The Great Wide Open

Photograph © 1998 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 1998 Peggy Kornegger

When our dear cat Lily reached the end of her very long life (22 years), her health declined during the last few months. In consultation with animal communicator Teresa Wagner, and thus with Lily, my partner and I made the decision to ask compassionate local vet Dr. Jake to come to our home and help Lily make her transition in order to relieve her of any further suffering. He was to arrive around 5 p.m., so we spent the last day of Lily’s life sitting with her in presence, candles lit, soft music playing. The three of us formed a small circle, Lily in her fleece bed and we sitting in chairs beside her. She would reach her paw out to us periodically, and we would kneel and stroke her head, looking into her beautiful eyes and listening to her purr. At that point, Lily was pure soulful peace and love. Teresa herself had commented that she wished everyone in the world could know Lily and experience that extraordinary peace.

As we sat with her, that peace permeated our souls. There was really no spoken language to describe what we were feeling, except in the words of Mary Chapin Carpenter’s song about the “great wide open.” The veil between life and death had slipped aside, and Lily was indeed in that space. She gave us that final gift of resting in divine presence with her as part of the love the three of us had shared here on Earth. The sky faded toward dusk, and the quality of the light in the room became almost golden. With Dr. Jake’s assistance, Lily passed peacefully in our arms.

Now, four years later, I have come to understand the full power of what Lily shared with us then. A few weeks ago, as I sat in meditation with Panache Desai’s recording of “Being Peace,” suddenly I was once again immersed in that afternoon of peace with her within the Great Wide Open. As the tears streamed down my face, I realized that Lily had given me my first positive experience of infinity, two years before I met Panache. With his help, I have been facing a lifetime fear of infinity/eternity, and gradually, as I stop resisting it, the fear is loosening its grip, and I am able to experience something entirely different—the light and peaceful expansiveness that is the heart of infinity. Exactly what I had felt with Lily as she transitioned, radiating peace from her entire being.

The animal companions in our lives are often so much wiser than we are, if only we would open our awareness to their divine intelligence. In their quiet loving way, they teach us so much about what is really important in life: love, peace, harmony, heart connection, play. We laughingly referred to Lily as the “cat Dalai Lama” because she always absolutely insisted on a peaceful home atmosphere—no arguments, no friction or raised voices. It turns out we weren’t far from the truth. Lily truly was a small bodhisattva; she came into our lives (on Mother’s Day, no less) to share what she was at her very core—unconditional love and peace. And to show us that we too are that. Thank you, sweet Lily. We love you, always.

[Lily: March 14, 1988–January 7, 2010]

Light

Photograph © 2013 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2013 Peggy Kornegger

“This is not a journey of understanding; it’s a journey of trust. It’s a journey of surrendering every aspect of you over to the light.”—Panache Desai

My life is so different than it was two years ago, even two months ago. Perhaps not noticeable to others, but distinctly noticeable to me. The intensive spiritual journey that I have been on for almost twenty years (my entire lifetime really) has become more and more expansive, to the point that boundaries often completely vanish from my perception. Limitations, too, are fading to invisibility, and mental preconceptions are rapidly dissolving. This is at least partially due to facing a lifetime fear of infinity that I had always run from (see previous blog post “Free Fall to Infinity”).

What has occurred is an opening around something that had always seemed rock-solid and impenetrable. Thin beams of light began to filter through what had been a frightening gray mass of emotional density locked into my consciousness since I was five years old. I thought I had been accurately perceiving a basic terrifying aspect of life and death: endless eternity. I came to realize that it was my mind, not my soul, that feared infinity. Beneath the mind’s fright, at my core resided profound peace. Experiencing my soul’s infinite peaceful nature, the light-filled universe within, shifted everything for me (with a little help from my friends, Panache Desai and William Blake).

Now, when I look up and sense the infinite cosmos that both the sky and I are part of, I am filled with amazement instead of fear. The very quality of the light has become infinite to me, a translucent golden that is beyond the color spectrum as we now perceive it.  The doors of my perception have opened, and I have experienced the power and beauty of something greater than my own three-dimensional mind. Sounds like a 1960s acid trip, but I assure you it is not.

I believe what is happening is I am opening to the light within me and within all of us, the radiant light that is the living vibrating essence of the cosmos. One by one, and thousands by thousands, worldwide, we are opening to this light now. It is the light of awareness, it is the light of love, it is the light of infinity. Gradually, we are becoming less attached to this physical reality that we were always told was fixed and immutable. We are beginning to see the deeper truths of what many Native Americans referred to as “the Great Mystery.” We cannot understand the secrets of the universe with our minds; we can only feel their sacredness and infinite miraculous nature in our hearts. We can be in continuous awe before the wonders of the world, including our own ephemeral presence on Earth and our eternal presence within the light.

 

Free Fall to Infinity

Grand Canyon, NPS
Grand Canyon © National Park Service
Some of you may recall a blog article I wrote last year called “Infinity.” In it, I described my lifelong fear of infinity/eternity and my first individual session with Panache Desai in which he took me to infinity. Unlike the mind-freezing terror I had experienced late at night at the thought of a never-ending universe, what I felt with Panache was free-floating peace and calm. No real sense of time or space; no thoughts, no emotion. Yet a comforting soft energy surrounded me. I remained in that state for hours, and the experience shifted my consciousness profoundly. The late-night fear did not occur for more than a year and a half.

This past summer, however, the terror-infinity thoughts began to recur, more and more frequently. I gradually realized that I was being prepared for the next phase in the evolution of this deep-seated fear. Consequently, I decided to take part in Panache’s 21-day program of “vibrational activation,” which consisted of daily meditations and energetic transmissions, interactive telephone sessions, and online group support. Each participant wrote an intention for the 21 days, and mine was to walk through my fear to freedom. A friend had recently told me that “terror is the final barrier to merging with God,” which actually helped give me a positive incentive for the journey.

How to explain an inner process that practically defies language? I will try. The first thing I experienced was a subtle shift in the energy around the terror, which allowed me to get closer to it than I ever had before. Usually panic took hold of me completely, and I froze. But one night I was able to access what was an integral part of the terror: overwhelming grief. Was this the sum total of life—a universe without end and an equally endless state of being or nonbeing? The despair I felt was so strong that I shut down entirely. But in a phone session, Panache sent me energy for the grief, and I was able to feel it through completely—days and days of crying at the “painful beauty” of life, then anger at the unfairness, and finally emotional neutrality and an inability to access the terror at all. I was in a holding pattern, wondering what would come next. I wrote online: “I feel as if I’m sitting on the edge of something HUGE—like the Grand Canyon with God in the middle of it. If only I could find a way to free fall into that vastness—or get someone to push me!”

Around the same time, another group member posted this quote by William Blake: “To see a World in a Grain of Sand/And a Heaven in a Wild Flower/Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand/And Eternity in an hour.” I have always loved those lines, but that evening I read them as if for the first time. The words infinity and eternity leapt out at me. World upon world opened up inside me. I realized that I had held Infinite Spirit in the pulsing palms of my hands during sessions with Panache. And I had experienced the Eternal Now in meditation, with my soul as silent witness. What we call God, or Spirit, exists as infinity and eternity and loving presence within each moment. Now is all there is, ever, and my soul doesn’t fear infinity because it is infinity. Only the mind is terrified of something that is beyond parameters, beyond thought really.

The next morning, during meditation in my back yard, I sat silently observing all the dimensions of the universe playing out magnificently within me. Opening my eyes and looking up at the infinite eternal peaceful blue sky, I felt my heart and soul as one with everything. No separation, no duality. I am the Grand Canyon and God. And life is a free fall that includes it all.

Infinite Inner Space

© 2007 Anne S. Katzeff / Artist
© 2007 Anne S. Katzeff / Artist

“Your soul is the silent witness of your life.”
—Panache Desai

That one sentence changed everything for me. Yes, I had heard about the “witness” before, but it was an idea in my head that I could never access within my own experience. After years and years of meditation practice, I continued to be lost in my thoughts. Then, during a webcast, I listened to Panache talk about dropping into present-moment awareness by simply taking a deep breath and repeating, “Here I am.” And here I am. And here I am. Now. And now. And now. Something shifted within me, and I was there, or rather here, in presence. The next morning at sunrise, during meditation, I was able to step back from my mind’s mental chatter into a silent inner space of awareness, of peace. When thoughts arose, I could observe them without losing consciousness. If I drifted into my thoughts momentarily, I found I could bring my self back to witnessing from the soul’s point of view: “Here I AM…now.”

That I AM that lives within each breath is greater than the personality self connected to the mind. It is a pure state of being, of infinite consciousness, which links all beings on the planet, actually in the cosmos. When I access that inner silent space, I am in the same place that you are when you access it. Within that living awareness, we are in complete and utter oneness. Within that space is the deepest peace and calm I have ever known. Infinite, with no fear attached to the endless being-ness. Some call this place Heaven, or Home. It is the source from which we all arise into human form and into which we dissolve at the end of our lives. It is God or Goddess; it is Great Spirit. It is Om.

And immersion in this profound state of consciousness is not limited to human beings. Animals experience their own contemplative moments. My dear cat Lily in her elder years used to sit on the back of the couch by the window, facing west at sunset, eyes closed in deep meditation. In the tall oak tree in my neighbor’s back yard, leafless now in the winter months, birds gather each evening, all facing west, their breasts shining red-gold in the setting sun.

We creatures living on Planet Earth find connection and comfort in the profound sacred silence that occurs at moments like sunrise and sunset. It reminds us of something beyond our lifetimes, something eternal and infinite at the heart of the universe—and within our own hearts. It reminds us that even when we feel most alone, there is always the loving presence of a greater consciousness of which we are part.

Growing Up Godless

I grew up outside of organized religion. In a small Midwestern town, this was unheard of. I knew no one else like me; all my friends dutifully went to church every Sunday. My parents didn’t want to impose any one set of religious beliefs on me, so they basically left the door open. They told me that God might exist or might not; it was not provable, all based on belief—the agnostic’s view. So I was left with a question mark and a feeling of “differentness” among my peers. I can remember feeling very uncomfortable whenever the topic of church or God came up at school, fearful that I would be “found out.”

When I was about 9 years old, my parents took me to a Unitarian church service in a nearby town, after which I commented, “I’m glad that’s over!” Clearly I wasn’t longing to go to church as much as I was longing not to be different. When I reached college age, all my new friends were rejecting their religious upbringing, and I found myself ahead of the game since I didn’t have a religion to reject. But still I was searching for something, as were so many others of my generation. The meaning of life perhaps, or the secrets of the cosmos. At any rate, I gradually began to look for answers in diverse spiritual books and teachers, not really wanting a guru or one answer, but rather a tapestry of truths that resonated with me.

My search for meaning was partially driven by a deep-seated fear of eternity/infinity, which I had carried within me since childhood, possibly because I had no superimposed God image to block the fear. The void, or an endless universe in which “the world went on forever and ever,” was very real to me. Eternal life and eternal death seemed equally frightening. Still, in spite of this, I was a happy child for the most part, nurtured and supported both by my parents’ unconditional love and by the natural world outside our rural home. It was only at night that my fears about the infinite universe arose.

These night fears continued throughout adulthood, even after I came to believe in Spirit, or a greater sacred presence in the universe. After many years of spiritual exploration and growth, it was in an individual session with Panache Desai that I had my first tangible experience of infinity as an expanse that was both peaceful and comforting (see previous blog post “Infinity). Months later, during Panache’s webcast series “Mother, Father, God,” I faced my long-ago religionless past. As he instructed listeners to embrace the image of God they had grown up with, until it disappeared and became one with them, I felt disconnected, alone, different, stuck in my Godless childhood. But when he said, “The Divine in essence is formless and nameless and is in fact love,” I suddenly realized that I was already at “disappeared,” and God/Spirit had always been a part of my life, as love. I felt old fears dissolving as I also realized that I had never really been alone. God, or the Divine, was always there, at my very core.

Looking back, I see how what seemed my greatest challenge as a child was in fact my greatest blessing. What I experienced then, through my parents, through nature, and within my own heart, was Divine love in its purest form, undiluted by human concepts of an external God. Now, in my present life, as I continue to have extraordinary experiences of Spirit and infinity, I am so very grateful for my parents’ openhearted love and wisdom which allowed me to follow my own path when it came to matters of the spirit.

“Look in your heart for God, for truth, for the answer. Feel that heart space—that is where you and infinity can meet, because your heart is not limited, but ever expansive.”—Panache Desai