“Fear not What is not real never was and never will be. What is real always was and cannot be destroyed”
This is the way that one of our oldest and most powerful human archetypes is described in an ancient Hindu text. A character that is born free, lives free and dies willingly knowing that this ultimate life initiation only leads to greater freedom.
I was awoken in the early hours of the morning by a collective voice in my head. The ancestors were calling me from my slumber. I was visiting a friend in the mountains of Montana. It was March. Snow was still lying on the ground and capping the tops of the Rockies that curled around the house like the embrace of a lover. The voice asked me to rise and go outside. After a moment of hesitation I dressed, emerging from the house into a bright clear, mountain dawn.
Today (as I sit here writing this) is the first year anniversary of my grandmother’s death. One year ago today her soul woke me up at 3:33 am UK time – the very moment she was passing from one life to another (9:33pm Denver time). In many ways she is more with me now than ever, yet in others I still miss our times of practice that we shared together.
“Practice” ? You might think. That doesn’t sound like a stereotypical granddaughter, grandmother activity.
I know but nonetheless this was the essence of the deepening of my relationship with her in the latter part of her life.