I am grateful for my connections with Jason and how much I am learning about how we connect.
Jason I love watching movies together, good ones and bad ones (the latter gave us some good laughs). We stayed up late two nights ago watching a movie, hanging together like old times. We made good use of the Comcast Digital On-Demand we got when we moved to Ipswich. Since Jason passed, Kule and I haven’t been using it and we discovered we could save $25 a month without it. Yesterday morning I woke up crying and couldn’t stop; I was missing Jason, thinking about how nice it was to watch the movie with him the night before. Twenty minutes before the Comcast technician was scheduled to arrive I called and cancelled the service change. I stopped crying. I suddenly realized I wasn’t ready to let go of that connection with Jason. I’m going to watch more movies with Jason and make use of that service! Jason reminded me of how much I like to watch movies, with or without him!
I’ve been thinking about how I connect with Jason and how I connected with him when he was alive. In many ways there are no differences. I can’t hear his words but I can sense them. I can’t hear his laugh but I can feel his silliness and joy. I can’t experience his physical strength, but I can feel his hugs energetically. The emotional feelings are the same although the physical sensations are not there. I know what it feels like to be with Jason, and I can get into that feeling whenever I choose to, if I believe I can. I had practiced that when we would be apart for days and then weeks as he got older.
It got me thinking how we limit our connections in life when we put so much emphasis on the physical. How much connection are we missing with others because of this belief? I’m blessed to have experienced ongoing closeness to many friends who live far away, and how Kule and I stayed connected on his 4-month trip around the world last spring. It’s as if we are never physically apart. I realized that I am now doing this with Jason, and that’s why I can get in the preferred space of knowing I haven’t lost him at all. I’m actually benefitting from a new relationship with him where he isn’t limited by his body, mind, and teenage hormones. I sense him as the wise soul he has always been, and now with adult energy. It’s awesome, and yet it does remind me that he isn’t here physically and I feel the sadness again. I’m finding that this cycle is an iterative process, and the more I go back and forth and feel the gratitude for the gifts I receive from Jason, my pain of not having him here physically gets less and less.
Jason and I always connected well non-verbally. We hugged less frequently as he got older, so I wasn’t as dependent on the physical touch (although he loved my massages, and I certainly enjoyed his shoulder rubs and sitting squished on the couch together!). We had some great conversations throughout his life, but at a length that was much shorter than my expectations, and I got used to that. We enjoyed hanging together as we travelled. In the car he made music mixes on CDs of music he knew I would enjoy, with the understanding my mood might not be up to hard rock or his unique alien-artists, as I called them. I have been listening to these CDs and feeling him in the car with me, enjoying the vibrations together. I’ve been enjoying the alien-artist music in a new way!
I had a wonderful Watsu (aqua therapy) session with Bobbie this week, and I enjoyed the underwater cosmic experiences, soaring like a dolphin. Jason was there, playing and soaring with me. It was so wonderful. At one point I realized I was so relaxed and surrendered that my body didn’t exist. Wow – that’s how Jason is, and I’m on his plane now! It was an awesome way to connect, and the experience reminded me that I can connect with Jason’s spirit in many ways. In fact, us earth beings expect others to connect with us on our earth plane, but we can connect with them on their plane as well.
The night before my Watsu session I had an experience of seeing down a deep tunnel and feeling Jason at the end. It was a message that he is there and I have ways of connecting with him that I might not have been open to before. I can use that image of the tunnel, and I can imagine I’m underwater in the cosmos swimming with Jason.
I was reminded of Oneness in a vortex session Liz offered me last night. I was wanting to be able to connect with Jason more often like this. During the session I felt the shift in my mind to understanding that we aren’t separate, that we are one. As an extension of this, I also was able to see that I don’t need to connect with Jason in any way to feel complete in myself. I do, however, enjoy our connections very much and know I can through memories, if not through ways that feel almost physical in nature.
In many of the Messages I had shared ways that Jason has communicated with me – the automatic writing, “giving” me things I needed just at that moment, feeling his shoulder rub, doing things that lightened up the intense sadness. I was cleaning his desk a few days after he passed, to capture his notes (and poetry, we discovered) folded up randomly on his desktop (his desk was overdue for a cleaning!). Maybe there was an explanation, like bumping the mouse, but I was a bit freaked out by what happened. Fanfare music was playing from his speakers that lasted a few seconds. However, it was like off-wavelength poor-quality radio sound (not the quality of his speakers) and certainly not the kind of music he would have had on itunes, and there was no webpage open. I said “OK, Jason, that freaked me out, but I’m ready to communicate with you this way. Keep going. That was very creative, dude.” The next moment I hear, in the same poor-quality sound, “Thank you”. From my reaction, I think Jason was pleased he got through but he didn’t do it again, he knew it was too edgy for me and I needed more subtle forms of communication.
I was going to say I’ve never seen Jason’s spirit, but I actually have. In the dark I would see subtle shadow forms moving. I wasn’t afraid, so I thought it was Jason. I experimented moving my eyelashes to make sure that the shadows weren’t from them, and I confirmed they weren’t. Since the first experience with this, I realized the forms could be other “spirits”, or energy from other beings, but connecting with Jason’s spirit has opened me up to connect with the other side more clearly. I use the same protection as I would when I don’t see them, so I feel safe and enjoy the connections.
Chuck was over one night about a month after Jason passed, and he had taken a copy of the death certificate back with him. It was a bit emotional, but he needed a copy for his records. After he left I went downstairs and something happened to catch my eye through the small side windowpane of our front doorway. It was something white. I went out to investigate, and found the death certificate on the street. I called Chuck and he drove right back to get it. We both laughed. We knew this was Jason’s sense of humor. He knew how to lighten us up.
Jason has let me know in many ways how much I mean to him. When I made the decision a couple of weeks ago to clean out his bedroom and move his things to his studio downstairs, which is now a memorial gallery to Jason and his works and a continuing recording studio, I felt him smile. He wanted me to move on, and not look at his empty room with sadness. I also wanted Kule to have his own room, something I couldn’t offer him before. Chuck helped me move all of Jason’s things but his bed. The next weekend, Kule and I disassembled his bed to move to the studio as a futon couch. When we moved the mattress, a green peridot earring fell on the floor. I cried with delight; it was one of my favorite heart-chakra earrings I thought I had lost raking the yard last fall. Maybe after a day of raking I leaned over to give Jason a massage, a common night ritual, and the earring fell onto the bed. But how did it survive months of bed-making? It’s too weird, and yet it’s Jason’s unique way of letting me know how much he loves me; he loved weird experiences. He was grateful that we cleaned out his room and that I was doing what I needed to be in my flow of joy in life.
During a ride back from R.I. a few weeks after Jason passed, I was feeling very sad and couldn’t stop crying. I looked up and saw an amazing cloud formation, the kind of photo opportunity Jason wouldn’t want me to pass up; I almost heard the request to pull over. Then I was in awe and felt the immense beauty of having had him in my life. My sadness turned to joy and I continued my journey. Several miles later the sadness slipped in again. I looked up and saw another beautiful cloud formation, and I got the message. Now whenever I want to connect with Jason I look at the clouds, and I feel his presence and sense his awe for the beauty he would see everywhere. This has been his gift to me.