What To Remember Before You Die
Poetry & Stories from the Shores of the Salish Sea
This morning there is nothing you must do to prove, justify or rectify your self. This morning the task that awaits you is to become more delicious. Plunk your self down inside the sturdy container you were given when you woke up that first miraculous morning. Ferment in your own goodness until morning arises within you and you know, without a doubt, the miraculousness of every single morning you were given. Then feed your self to the one who gave all of this to you, so that the sweetness and the sourness of life, as it has been lived through you, can be tasted.
This poem was written for Shirley and Roy. Shirley was my next door neighbour. I never met her in person as she was unwell and rarely left her home. She died two months after I moved into the little old beach cottage next to the house where she lived with her daughter. Two days after Shirley died, my other next-door neighbour, Roy, died. I never met him in person either as he was unwell and rarely left his home.
The next morning, I was sitting in my sunroom staring out at the sea. I was reflecting on the recent deaths of my two elderly neighbours and how peculiar it was that they died a few days apart, and so shortly after I moved in. Suddenly I felt a presence in the room with me. Instinctively I knew it was Shirley’s spirit. I felt a pushing sensation and knew that she had a message to communicate. I am an intuitive. It is not unusual for me to feel the spirits of the deceased. They often seek out a sensitive ear to impart a message. So, I listened, with pen poised, and began to write this poem. While I was writing I felt another spirit presence hovering nearby. It was Roy. I felt them both leaning over me as I wrote. I was receiving impressions and carefully translating them into very particular words. It was almost as if I was taking down dictation. When the poem was finished, I felt a nod of approval.
Then I got a nudge to immediately hand write a second copy on a sheet of fine paper. As soon as I finished, the two spirit presences departed and a knock sounded on my back door. Startled, I went to the door and there was Shirley’s daughter. She had come to thank me for the condolence card I had left on her doorstep. I told her I had just finished writing something and I that it was for her. I folded the paper and gave the poem to her.
Several years have passed and I still live in the little old beach cottage. Shirley’s daughter still lives next door. I found out that she loves poetry. We often share poems, books and home baking. She told me that she wished I could have met her mother, that we likely would have been kindred spirits. I just nod and smile. Roy’s family sold his home and lovely new neighbours moved in. Sometimes we all get together and enjoy a beach fire. My new neighbour is learning how to play the bagpipes. Some mornings I hear the pipes playing Amazing Grace as the sun rises.
The cottage I live in sits very close to the high tide line on the shore of the Salish Sea. It faces south-east. If I rise with the dawn bird song and eagle’s call, or the bagpipes, I see the sun rise over the sea. I take a photo of the sunrise most mornings. Somedays the display of light and colour is so astonishing I weep. I know that each day I live here is precious. Some days I forget this. On those days, the days when the heaviness of the world weighs me down and I feel so weary that I can barely make myself get out of bed, I read this poem.
Dear Luma, I read this poem and this post right after I finished listening to a channeled message by Elizabeth April. She had been relaying a message from the galactic that the reason why we humans often struggled with issues of self-worth, was because we haven't really been fully embodied in our bodies, or that we haven't submerged inside our bodies enough to truly appreciate being human. We don't feel at ease inside our bodies and we are kind of surprised that we are here everyday we wake up. Therefore, since we already have parts of our consciousness outside of our bodies, we subconsciously sabotage our own existence here and create issues / problems to justify why we are not supposed to be here. And then I read your poem, and all at once "Plunk your self down inside the sturdy container you were given when you woke up" shed a new light for me. The whole poem shines a new light for me. What synchronicity it is! Thank you!
Exquisite 🙏🏻❤️