An invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break.
Before I share with you a few incidences of unusual connection—of threads that continued or appeared in a way our human brains might question–I feel the need to reassure you that I am so very grounded. While I admit to believing in the power of energy, prayer, meditation—I also pay my taxes, eat meat, mow the lawn. A boss once described me as “hopelessly Midwestern.” But he smiled when he said it. I stand for decency, honesty, solidity. Just don’t tell me my soul can’t take flight every now and then.
I believe many grounded people have stories of connection that go beyond the usual realm of human activity. I am far from unique. And mine are spaced quite a few years apart. If I am able to establish a strong connection with the Divine, it seems I need to work on my receptivity if I want it to happen more frequently. And I do. Oh, I surely do.
Just a regular chat with Nana
My Nana died when I was in my early twenties. I lived in Chicago and had just experienced a major heartbreak. I missed her solidly. But, as usual, she took care of things. She came to me in dreams that were far from my regular dream quality. No, these were different—and I can’t explain how. But she chatted with me, advised me, reassured me—all the things she would have done in the flesh. After a few of these dreams, she told me she could not come back to see me because she had to “move on to the next level.” I did not know what that meant at the time, but now I take it to mean her soul energy was progressing.
An early morning reminder
As I struggled during this same period in my life to deal with heartbreak, loneliness, finding my way in the world, I was sent a reminder. It, too, was in the form of a dream—but it also had no normal dream-like qualities to it. A voice—and I say “voice” hesitantly because while the words were strongly put in my mind, I did not “hear” them per se—said to me: “This is to remind you of who you are, where you came from and how much you are loved.”
As those words came to me, I felt a flood of unconditional love that I had never felt before nor have I felt since. It was an amazing feeling I’ve often wished I could recreate on demand. I think it was another message from the Divine, reminding me that this, too, would pass. And of course it did.
During the year after my mother died, I feel she tried to reach me in a million ways. Not to shower love—that was not my mother’s way—but to warn me. Crazy times were ahead and I was blind to them as I grieved her and tried to deal with my father’s upcoming death. As I sat in the bath one evening, a voice “spoke” to me. Very clearly, it said, “Leave him.” I knew the “him” was my husband at the time. But the rest of the message made no sense. Until it did. If only I had heeded it sooner, I could have saved myself so much of the pain that eventually came my way.
A peek into someone else’s life
I recently attended a seminar given by Dr. Brian Weiss, a past lives expert. (Yes, there were plenty of other meat-eating, tax paying individuals there.) He asked us to partner with someone we did not know, hold something they had been wearing, and just be open to what came to us in a few minutes of silence.
I was sitting next to a twenty-something woman, so she and I exchanged jewelry. As I held hers in my hand, I closed my eyes and just allowed images and sensations to come to me. At first, nothing came. And I kept thinking how foolish I was going to feel either way–if nothing came to me or if something came to me.
Surprisingly, when we shared, I had picked up on many things—none of them seeming related in my mind, but very much related in her life. The horses, the older man in a white coat, the trip to London with a younger man, the feeling that it was hard to breathe, the table set for a literal feast in India. It seemed that with just a bit of effort on a Saturday afternoon, I had tapped into someone else’s reality. Many other pairings in the room yielded similarly surprising, needle-point accuracy. Dr. Weiss’ takeaway message was that we are all incredibly connected on a daily basis—we just don’t stop long enough to take in each other’s energy and feel the connection.
Tugging on that thread
How to tie these threads together, right? First, I should confess—connection has been on my mind because my coworker with cancer has announced she will no longer work as of the end of the month. I am already feeling bereft and hardly able to explain it. We no longer chat daily, but knowing Tersea is in the world makes me feel a kindred spirit is out there. Knowing she will be taking on a different form, moving in a different divine circle where I will not be able to communicate with her, leaves me trying to find incidences of connection that go beyond the human realm.
Those invisible threads that lead us to each other in human form and beyond—I believe in those. I believe we all have the capacity to do much more with those threads than we do.
And I believe I will be moving less gingerly in the future, knowing my human fumbling cannot break those threads. Perhaps when Tersea passes on, I will tug a few times in the hopes she comes to have a few more conversations. The older I get, the less strange that seems . . .