Message 25 – Playing Heals, 9/15/09

Posted

“When we play, we connect with our infinite nature; we are in the moment with joy.”

Jason gave me a new message Saturday night when I was at one of my lowest times.

I was asking to trust that I will understand the purpose of all of this.
I immediately sensed him telling me about porpoise, and I knew it was him because Jason loved playing with words.

A porpoise loves to play; there is also the submerge and emerge. (I am inspired to do more research on Cetacean wisdom, and to swim with the dolphins).

When we PLAY we PRAY.
We get in touch with our divine nature, our highest selves, beyond mind.

Jason taught me how to play. That is an incredible gift that brought so much healing and joy to my life. I didn’t know how to play freely until Jason showed me how. Jason is reminding me to remember all the times we played together and that will reconnect me to him and to the joy I feel when I play, with or without him. Feeling that joy will attract more play in my life – the law of attraction!

It’s working. Thank you again, Jason! I feel him with me again, and that reminds me he isn’t gone and he never will be. His energy is here to stay, and to tune into whenever I choose. It’s my choice!

My mind of course comes in and says – but I just lost a child, how can I play and have fun? Jason gave me the message Lighten Up for the ceremony and he is reminding me how powerful this is. It’s not avoiding grief, it’s finding a way to connect with him and it’s avoiding the attachment to the mind that causes unnecessary suffering. I can play and laugh and then go back to crying in sadness in a natural cycle. There’s no rules about how to grieve, but being in my heart.

Jason and I used to play all the time. We would get silly about the littlest thing. We made silly noises (natural sound healing!) and played with wild silly movements. We loved playing ball with no rules, the more we bent them the better (he detested competitive games). We made up card games and word games. We would go wild with silly hugs and faces and say “Too Much Love!” and pretend to die. We would put pillows under our shirts and come running toward each other from the other end of the room, jumping up and banging into each others’ bellies with a loud shout of “Samurai!”

Jason loved word games, like mad libs and the game I made up with him in our last trip back from California a week before he died, when we cracked up the whole way, making up silly sentences by taking turns coming up with the next letter (try it – it’s a blast – you think the other person has a word in mind then it changes – totally gets you out of your head to be open for anything!).

Jason started sharing a few plays on words with me Saturday night to share some messages:

Nonsense = Non-sense …..we get a lot without our known senses.
Massage = Message….we get a lot from receiving and giving touch
Suffer = Refuss = Refuse…..we don’t need to be suffering necessarily – give it up!
Word = World….If we add love (L) to the word we will understand the world

Jason and I didn’t communicate much with words. Chuck and I couldn’t understand why Jason would tell us so often that he couldn’t understand what we were telling him; he would get overwhelmed with words and didn’t want to read them, either. He was trying to tell us the words get in the way. He would learn best with play. I helped him through the years with homework that he was so stuck about doing by making a game out of it; in his teens he enjoyed making up spoof horror movies to kill the zombie homework.

Jason’s reminder to play is profound for me. I’m amazed at the shift and how I am reconnected to Jason. Jason used to tell me I worried too much (and I of course got a bit defensive and said I worry a lot less than most people, but I did listen and learn) and I am understanding more and more about what our minds do to us.

I’m also reminded by so much I’ve learned from Kule (from Non-Violent Communication training) that when we miss someone we are missing what we got from them and how we felt when we were with them, and there are other ways to get that when the other person isn’t around (there are many strategies to get our needs met). Jason’s huge gift to me was to teach me how to play, and now I can remember all those times and it’s like he is right there teaching me again. Each time I get it even more.

I’m ready to play more, and it feels good. I could use some support to remind me. Jason is my best reminder. I love him so much and I am so grateful for what he gave me.

Samurai, dude!