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.

Present-Time Paradise

Photograph © 2012 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2012 Peggy Kornegger
Years ago, Stevie Wonder wrote a song called “Pastime Paradise,” which described people who lived their lives glorifying the past or longing for a different future. We all have that tendency because our society fosters dissatisfaction and discontent. The advertising industry feeds on it, as do our social and political institutions. Yet, the quieter voices that whisper “live in the moment” and “count your blessings” are growing stronger and more widespread. If we shift our focus to the present and look at what we do have instead of what we don’t, life is suddenly full and abundant beyond measure.

Personally, I have no doubt that I live in paradise. I love my life. My partner and I live in an apartment in a two-family home with a yard, front and back. Our small-town neighborhood is friendly and quiet. We like our neighbors, and our landlord is kind and responsive. I have freedom to grow flowers, plants, and bushes in the yard, and this is my greatest joy. I spend hours in my garden every day, sometimes working, sometimes just drinking in the colors and light. Hummingbirds visit the red tubular flowers of the native honeysuckle, goldfinches cluster about the hanging thistle feeder, and butterflies and bees fill the air around the large purple flowers of the butterfly bush. What more could one ask of life than moments like these?

Don’t get me wrong. I have experienced my share of life’s heartaches too—the death of loved ones, the end of relationships, loss of jobs, physical pain, etc. But all of it has been part of life and has brought me to where I am today. If I step back and look at my life as a whole, the miracles outnumber the tragedies, and even the tragedies had hidden miracles within them. Events that I feared all my life such as my parents’ deaths ended up being extraordinary spiritual experiences because I was fully present with them as they transitioned. Losing my job late in my editorial career allowed me to step into the freelance world for a couple of years and then gradually move into full retirement. I now have the time and freedom to write and garden whenever I want instead of squeezing it in on the side.

What I have discovered is that paradise is a state of presence, not an aspiration. I truly believe that I came to this planet to have all the experiences I could possibly pack in and that each one allows me to expand more and more as both a spiritual and a human being. Everything that has occurred has enabled me to become more fully myself, my soul self. And I am grateful for every single bit of it, the tears as well as the laughter. It’s a miracle to just be alive. Really. Look at your physical body—how did that happen? You can’t help but be in awe of the infinite complexity of the tiniest aspect of every part of life. Or at least I am. And I think that’s where we’re all heading. Collectively, we are shifting from suffering to celebration, from dismay to full-hearted appreciation for the gifts each day brings. Paradise is with us, within us—now. It really is.

Writing Your Soul Self into the World

Photograph © 2012 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2012 Peggy Kornegger

Every time you write, you are expressing something about yourself, sending a vibration, either a faint, half-hearted one or a full-on, authentic blast of your soul self. Whether it’s an email, a social media post, or an article or book intended for publication, it is filled with your vibes—clear and forthright or vaguely uncertain. In the world of vibration and perceived intent, writing is the same as speaking. We are announcing who we are in the world with every word we utter, out loud or in cyberspace. The question is: How truthful are we when we speak/write? True to ourselves, that is.

We may write one thing but mean something entirely different, and the recipient is left confused and unsettled. We may not really know what we mean ourselves if we write impulsively or hurriedly, which is often the case in our fast-lane, multi-tasking world. Meditation teachers often tell students to take a deep breath and pause before speaking or acting in order to bring themselves into present-moment awareness. Clarity of mind and connection to the inner soul self rests in that deep breath and pause. Or at least I’ve found that to be true in my life.

If I rush through the day, speeding from one activity or conversation to another without resetting my inner focus, then I am scattered, stressed, and probably presenting that energy to those I encounter. If I take the time to breathe consciously for a minute or two and really look around at my surroundings, everything shifts into a softer, slower mode, and I have made space for my inner spirit to come to the fore. I feel more centered and grounded in who I really am at heart instead of being only half-aware, half-present in my own day-to-day life. I don’t always remember to do this, but when I do, it makes a big difference in how I experience everyone and everything. And the more I remember….well, the more I remember….

Since I’m a writer, this little piece of wisdom has been invaluable to me. Writing from the surface of the brain without involving my heart and soul makes for dull, inert content unconnected to the life force from which all creativity springs. When I write from my heart, then I experience a conscious alignment with who I am at the deepest level. Words and sentences seem to flow more easily when my heart is engaged, not just my brain. My spirit, or soul self, unique to me, steps forward into the world to express herself. I treasure that connection to my inner self.

More and more, people today understand how energy makes up our entire universe. We are energy, and our words are also energy. Why not make them truly represent who you are at the deepest level, which is love? Use language creatively, playfully, to send a loving vibration into the world. Pause, take a breath, and align the words you write with your truest self. There is no one else exactly like you on the planet, so express your unrepeatable, full-color soul self in everything you write—whether tweet or blog or email. Now more than ever, your voice is needed in the world. Together, our collective positive energy can shift everything!