One of the biggest fears for most people is death. Imagine death wasn’t at all what you may have thought or imagined, how would or could that change of perspective affect your daily life? I’m sharing a very personal experience here with you, trusting that it will benefit some, if not many…
How an Encounter with John Edward Changed My Life
I’ve always believed in life after death. Before my father passed away in 2005, we made a pact that he would make himself known from beyond if he could. Several years passed, without any obvious signs or messages and I’d pretty much forgotten about our pact when my father eventually delivered on his promise five years later.
John Edward is one of the world’s most renown mediums and I’d attended a couple of John’s Australian shows before 2010. I was moved by what I’d witnessed during those events and, even though I didn’t get a reading then, it left me with no doubt that he was 100% genuine and profoundly connected to the spiritual realm. I had a friend who was very sceptical and I felt a strong urge to give him reason to re-evaluate his views. All the bigger shows were sold out but somehow I managed to get tickets for a smaller group session that was announced only a few of days before the event.
About half an hour into the reading I suddenly felt an extraordinarily strong sensation through my body. My whole body was covered in goosebumps like never before, and they were clearly visible on my skin. Just as I was pointing this strange and unexpected occurrence out to my friend, John Edward started describing details that matched my Dad’s perfectly. When I realised that John had connected with my father, it came as a complete shock as, up until this moment, I was so focused on my friend’s experience that it didn’t even occur to me that I could get a reading! What followed was simply mind-blowing. John described events and circumstances he couldn’t have possibly known about and he couldn’t have found out about even if he’d spent weeks researching my life. He came up with most obscure facts, such as extremely unusual and rare things my Dad had collected in his lifetime. For privacy reasons, I won’t go into much detail but I must say John was 100% correct with absolutely everything. The reading finished with John pronouncing my mother’s name – Helga! The whole experience was very overwhelming – not only because of all the details John shared but also because I’d felt my father’s presence so very strongly immediately before the reading started!
I’d felt those kind of goosebumps to a lesser degree before and I remember wondering at the time if it was a sign of spiritual presence, but I never knew for sure. I remember thinking maybe I was just feeling it because I’d felt emotional to some degree at the time. It was so nice to see my instinctive interpretation confirmed with such certainty!
Slowly but surely I came to realise the enormity of what happened on this very special day. Seeing life on this Earth as just a snippet of my overall experience and my body as just a temporary shell to house my soul, without the slightest hint of a doubt, everything took on a new meaning. I realised that ultimately there’s no point to be afraid of anything – what’s the worst thing that can happen? Yet at the same time I also became aware of the importance of every little thing we do in our lives. If spirits are present at all times, everything I do is seen, no matter if there’s anyone physically present or not. Everything I’ve ever done to anyone will be remembered. I believe that at some stage we will be confronted with all of our actions – good or bad. But not to be judged and punished. It’s just lessons everyone’s here to learn. What meaning would life have if everything was only ever good? Without opposites, nothing would have any meaning at all! Maybe the whole point of physical life is to experience contrasts in order to evolve. We need to get lost to experience the joy of finding ourselves. We need to experience illness to value good health. We need to experience heartbreak to know the meaning of love. We’re limited by five senses, space, time and gravity – without these limitations we would not be able to become lost and unaware enough to enable us to fully experience these contrasts.
It’s a bit like standing in front of a mosaic. If all the tiles were white, the picture would be very boring, wouldn’t it? And I’d equate a physical lifetime to standing in the dark, with our life representing holding a torch that highlights a small section of the picture. As our experiences increase, we step back further and we see more and more of the picture reveal itself as the radius of the torch light widens. The more we see, the more interesting the picture becomes. I view death as the light being switched on completely and the whole mosaic becoming visible. Seeing it all, we realise that all loss was an illusion so we could experience the blissful joy of reality. We can increase the size of the mosaic by adding tiles and then ‘going back to the dark’ to experience the section we added or we can be so pleased with the mosaic we’ve created that we don’t feel any further need to add tiles (ie. not reincarnate / manifest back into a physical state).
The choice is up to us and we choose the colours of he mosaic, based on how intense we want our experience to be. If we willingly made choices for ourselves in another realm, we’d understand we’re not victims at the mercy of random events but it’s all divinity playing itself out. This is just an analogy of the understanding I’ve come to since my reading and I’m hoping that considering my views may trigger you to see life with different eyes. I’m hoping it will encourage you to enjoy life more and worry less… 🙂
Click on the image below to find out about one of the most amazing stories I’ve come across:
We live in a culture where it has been rubbed into us in every conceivable way that to die is a terrible thing. And that is a tremendous disease from which our culture in particular suffers.”Alan Watts
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I’m out of site?
I am but waiting for you, for the interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner.
All is well.
Written by Henry Scott Holland (27 January 1847 – 17 March 1918) was Regius Professor of Divinity at the University of Oxford