Forever and Ever…

When I was five or six years old, I began having a recurring nighttime thought that terrified me. I described it to my mother as “The world goes on forever and ever.” My mind froze with fear when that perception arose in my consciousness, and I sat bolt upright in bed shaking my head frantically to get rid of it. My mother tried to help by suggesting I distract myself with happier thoughts. Her loving presence comforted me but did not erase the underlying feeling of terror and overwhelm. Years later I called it fear of infinity or eternity.

It felt like I was looking into the farthest stretches of the universe, an infinite void with no beginning and no end. As a child, I had no language or framework for that. It was so huge, so vast, I felt lost, engulfed. As a young adult, I ran from it, attempting to avoid its appearance in my night thoughts. Eventually I embarked on a journey of spiritual seeking, trying to come to some understanding of the nature of life/death, and resolution of my own existential despair—the grief beneath the fear of “forever and ever.”

Over the years, various teachers, in particular Panache Desai, helped me see infinity in a more positive light—indeed as light, as spirit. I was looking into the darkness, but within the darkness was the light of eternal Spirit, which cannot really be understood but only experienced. A five-year-old child staring at that limitless space does not recognize it as God or Spirit but rather as the unknown; emptiness. Something to be feared. Only recently have I begun to see my child’s vision as a soul gift, which set me on a life path of searching for the meaning of life and learning about Spirit’s presence.

I have tremendous gratitude for that gift, for the awareness it has brought me through so many spiritually expansive experiences. Yet there still remains a kernel of sadness within me as well. A recognition that life’s mysteries can never be solved. Many Native American cultures teach that only in complete acceptance of the “Great Mystery” as such is there peace. I’m finally reaching that view now, and I realize it is all part of my soul’s plan for my life.

For years, I thought that I could “solve” the mystery, and my nighttime fear of infinity would disappear entirely through “understanding” God. This was partially true: deeper soul awareness and trust in the wisdom of Spirit softened the edges and frequency of the fear. Ultimately, however, I am learning that only in full acceptance of life as is, as profound divine mystery, does total inner peace arise. I still have passing moments of sadness or grief about the nature of human life and death and “forever and ever.” At those times, the only “answer” is acceptance, surrender, complete letting go. If I take a deep breath and look up, seeing the infinite blue sky with my soul’s eyes, I feel peace. And perhaps that’s the greatest wisdom of all. 

Finding Softness in a Hard World

We are constantly bombarded these days with images of violence, conflict, fear, and hatred, whether on the news or in films and TV shows. Varied voices surround us, advocating anger and defiance or peace and compassion—or all simultaneously. Each voice belongs to a human being wearing an identity costume that hides their vulnerability. As individuals and as a people, we are in distress. The world seems on the brink of destruction. Yet in the midst of it all, there are also voices that remind us that this is a transformative transitional time, foretold in ancient cultures. We are not here to perish but to prevail, as spirit, as light.

Sound like a fairy tale? A fabricated distraction that feeds inertia? I don’t think it is. Perhaps belief in a greater purpose to life and living will be what gives us strength and stamina to continue to live love and hope in a world divided into fragmented sectors of adversity and suffering. Birth pains bring new life into being. Thunderstorms and floods are often followed by rainbows and clear air. Not everything is as it appears on the surface. A hard shell covers a soft center.

If we choose soft instead of hard in every situation, we engage the softest part of us, the heart. And the heart, through which the soul is expressed, is also the strongest survival tool we have. The greatest sages through the ages spoke of the wisdom and power of loving-kindness. In the face of life or death, be loving, be kind. Ask, “Can I help you?” One small gesture or word, amplified, can shift the consciousness of a planet. This is why we came here. Not for the easy ride or the simple tasks, but for the challenge of speaking the softest words and offering the gentlest touch in times of fear or trauma.

On any given day, we have that choice, we have that soul responsibility. When the entire world feels harsh and unfeeling, remember the power of your heart and soul and the reason why you (and all of us) were born.

Andrea Gibson: After Life

“I am happiest on the road, when I’m not here or there, but in between, the yellow line running down the center of it all like a sunbeam.”
–Andrea Gibson

I was not familiar with the work of dynamic spoken-word poet Andrea Gibson until after they (preferred nonbinary pronoun) transitioned in July 2025 from ovarian cancer. In November, I happened to see the trailer for a documentary film about Andrea called Come See Me in the Good Light. Next, I stumbled upon a clip of their friend Tig Notaro reading part of Andrea’s poem “Tincture.” Moved to tears, I found the entire poem online and read it through twice, continuing to weep. The kind of tears I had never experienced in quite the same way before: sorrow simultaneous with celebration of life. Andrea’s poetry encompasses both of these in extraordinary ways.

Thus began my hours-long journey across the web, watching every video I could find: Andrea’s poetry performances; Andrea and partner/wife Megan Falley (also a poet) being interviewed; Megan revealing her own feelings after Andrea’s passing; the trailer from the film and the song “Salt Then Sour Then Sweet,” sung by Sarah Bareilles and Brandi Carlile (with Andrea’s words) at the film’s end. Andrea’s website (andreagibson.org) showcases their vividly diverse poetry (lyrical, incisive, humorous, loving). The first poem I heard/saw was “Love Letter from the Afterlife,” written to Megan. I was audibly sobbing by the fourth or fifth line. I’ve listened to it many times since, and it still feels like the most beautifully wise poem ever written. I have been reading poetry all my life but have never run across any quite like hers.

Andrea’s words bridge life, death, and eternity seamlessly, using details recognizable from my own life, from everyone’s life. It all flowed together perfectly as I listened, crying at the heart-wrenching pathos and absolute splendor of life on Earth. Sadness and joy as one inseparable experience. At the end of the afternoon, I felt as if everyone I had ever known had died and come back to life. All at the same time. Everything inside me and outside me as One. That may not make logical sense, but that’s the best way I can describe the experience. Even my tears held the precious poignancy of all life in them.

And then there’s the film. After hearing/seeing all these pieces of Andrea’s life and work, I watched Come See Me in the Good Light, where it all comes together in an extraordinarily honest, funny, and beautiful telling of their (and Meg’s) journey with cancer. Once again, loss of life and love of life are presented as one experience in a way that is both heart-breaking and heart-opening. They share what they went through (for several years) with such vulnerability, humor, and loving sweetness. I laughed, I cried, I felt what they felt right along with them.

 Andrea’s description of coming to inner acceptance and neutrality about so much that had previously “mattered” struck a chord in my own life (I lived through breast cancer a few years ago). They felt parts of their “identity” fall away as they settled into soul awareness. Nothing was as important as the present moment, fully lived and appreciated. I still hear Andrea’s deeply expressive, musical voice at their last poetry performance in Denver in 2024 (shown in the film), the entire theater as one, cheering, laughing, crying, immersed in love.

I believe Andrea Gibson came to Earth to erase the dividing line between life and death. Between all dichotomies, actually. A perfectly nonbinary life and afterlife. Woven into the tapestry of the universe with precisely orchestrated timing for humanity’s deeper awakening. Thank you, Andrea, for your love letter to us all.

“Love Letter from the Afterlife”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QmZHLvq-gDg

“Acceptance Speech After Setting the World Record in Goosebumps”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XK-hb_bjqU 

Trailer from Come See Me in the Good Light: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0B8sjxR7Mo

Rose of Sharon art above by Anne Katzeff

The Miracle of Murmuration

There is a wonderful video online that shows thousands and thousands of starlings flying in synchronized sweeping movements through the skies of the Netherlands. It is a fantastical aerial dance, the birds moving as one across the entire sky. This spectacular sight has a name: murmuration, which refers to the sound of the birds’ wings. The term is applied specifically to starlings, and it doesn’t only occur in Europe. I have seen hundreds of starlings in Massachusetts flying like this, swooping and changing directions repeatedly, high overhead, moving as one mind, one avian soul. An astonishing sight. 

To me, murmuration is a perfect visual demonstration of how we live in a cosmically connected universe orchestrated by a greater Intelligence. There are no events or experiences that are not part of this infinite whole, which forms a kaleidoscopic tapestry of moving light and color. In our daily lives, we don’t usually notice how it all fits together, but occasionally something may make us stop and stare in wonder: a spectacular lightning storm; a lunar or solar eclipse; migrating Canada geese flying in a perfectly formed giant V. As we pause, we may speculate on the possible source of these phenomena (Spirit? Nature?), but whatever name we use for life’s magic and mysteries, the miracles on this Earth are beyond human language. We can only experience them in awe.

A number of years ago, I went on several trips to swim with wild dolphins and whales in the open ocean. Dolphins too engage in their own form of “murmuration.” They frequently move as one as they travel through the seas. “Dolphin mind” I’ve called it, and I’ve been part of it myself on more than one occasion. Once, as I swam at a distance from a pod of spinner dolphins in Hawaii, I found myself moving to the right at the exact same moment that they did. There was no conscious decision on my part. I was just suddenly swimming in synchronicity with them as they swam closer. I felt a part of whatever telepathy passed among them. It was an unforgettable feeling.

Such moments—whether watching birds or dolphins or trees moving as one with the wind—have filled my life with a deeper sense of connection to all things. And to a belief that the seemingly impassive and distant cosmos all around us is in truth within us as well. These connections, visible and invisible, are interwoven throughout the universe. Life on Earth and across the galaxies is perfectly related. The moon affects the ocean tides, as well as our inner fluidity. We are moved in every moment by something greater than even our own imagination: murmuration sweeping through all our senses. The heartbeat of the universe.
*Photograph above by Nicole Pearlstein 
Starlings in flight: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4f_1_r80RY

Patience, Peace, Kindness

These words have become my “mantra” lately. A summation of what I wish to focus on as I live my life moment to moment, day by day, year to year. The three work in tandem, each informing and amplifying the others until together they become an unbroken and unbreakable whole. When I am at peace, I usually feel patient; when I am both peaceful and patient, I am more inclined to be kind. We sometimes forget that these qualities are within us all.

Patience: Major life events, such as waiting for results of a medical test or for news about a possible job offer, require patience. I also find that I need to engage with patience daily on a smaller scale. When I’m cleaning up spilled food or a glass dropped on the kitchen floor, I have to pause and remember that this accident is very small in an overview of the day’s events. When someone says something that triggers irritation in me, I take a deep breath and step off the inner thought train leading to needless anger. There are countless times throughout the day when patience is the wisest response, with the happiest outcome. May I remember that.

Peace: If there is noise outside my windows or upsetting news on the TV, I try to remember that peace is an internal experience, not dependent on external circumstances. This is a big one because the peace that we carry within us radiates outward to circle the globe. It begins with each of us. Resentment, irritation, and anger feed on themselves to become friction and fighting between friends and eventually countries. If we truly want world peace, we have to get in touch with the core of peace in our souls and live it fully with each breath we take and with each person, friend or stranger, we encounter in our lives.

Kindness: If I were asked to name one quality that could make our planet a more harmonious place, I would say “kindness.” Kindness engages the heart, and the heart is sourced in pure love. If we are continuously kind, we gift those around us with love, which touches their hearts as well as our own. Together, we move forward in life as one, not separated into opposing “sides.” A kind word or gesture can make someone’s day; a smile can lift the spirits, given and received. It’s easier than you think to shift the energy all around you to a positive vibration.

Of course, the key is to remember. That’s why I have made these three words into an inner “mantra” that I repeat inside my mind and heart as much as possible. With every repetition, they become more deeply a part of my daily life. It’s only my own forgetfulness that excludes them.  If you and I realize that patience, peace, and kindness are exactly what we would like to receive ourselves on a regular basis, then that could be a springboard to remembering. And in remembering, gratitude too fills the heart, encompassing all three.