From Healing Meditation, a book still in making
This blog post is about a rare form of healing — I attempted to cleanse my mother’s spirit in her afterlife. I did it by using “healing meditation” method in the comfort of my own apartment.
Over time, my spirit communication dialogues, protected by prayers and meditation, had led to unexpected changes of my way of thinking. My many childish idealizations started to collapse, leaving me gazing emptiness. Instead of Mother with capital “M”, strong and royal and always right, I saw now a smallish unhappy widow struggling to make ends meet, not too bright, not too lucky, poor and weak, and not really loving me. Too often, she was looking at me with irritation, as if asking what for she had to slave for this cuckoo’s chick, a stranger one, as if I was not her daughter at all. After her death, when her spirit talked to me from the other side, she confirmed it. “You were a stranger who arrived into our family by mistake. Probably, angels swapped the souls in rush when they were sticking them in newly born bodies. Humans do mistakes, why the angels would not do them? My younger brother was a family pet, and I was the opposite, a stranger, a nuisance to her. It took many decades before I realized that this mother’s dislike of me was a blessing in disguise. I understood it entirely only when I started talking to the spirit of her father, priest Mikhail, my grandfather, whom I did not met on earth. The real reason of dislike turned to be invisible at the first glance and made me write a separate chapter about my grandfather and his demons packed into a set of impossible thought forms. I will post the results of my “research” on my blog the next time. The discovery of not being loved by my mother, made me to learn to curb my demand for mother’s love and increase the acceptance of her ways how she handled her karma. Of course, there was a connection between us, but not thank to our mutual effort to become closer, but despite everything that separated us.
… On one fateful day, back in 2005, I could not stop thinking about my mother in Estonia. There was no reason for a call as we had talked over the phone some days ago. She was well, and she assured me that my brother Sevo and his wife Madli were taking good care of her. I tried to think about some excuses to call, found none, and called anyway – from my Los Angeles apartment to Tallinn, Estonia. My brother happened to be in her room at that late hour in North Europe, and picked up the phone. He said that our mother was having flue and he was checking that she had taken her medicine and now she was trying to get some sleep. Nevertheless, he gave her the phone and suggested to answer my call. Mother did not speak, but I heard her breathing and I realized that she was listening. Finally, she was listening to me, or sensing what was coming from me to her. Was she glad that I had called? Or she was telling me something important beyond words… I also stopped making up words, like “how are you?” and letting our wordless messages to fly free. “Mama, talk,” my brother rushed her. However, she kept her silence. We continued to listen in quietude how our souls were conversing, and this was the best, and maybe the only sensible “conversation” we ever had in decades.
In four hours, brother called me from Estonia. After my phone call mother fell asleep and died shortly. She was 3 weeks short from her 99th birthday. I found a funny picture of her at that age.
Once visiting Estonia, her grandson Vladimir Elmanovich, American architect, walked his grandmother to the beach and joked, “Look, granny, across that Atlantic lake, over there, by the sea, is my house, do you see it?’ Granny laughed, and played along, “looking across the Atlantic lake!” Despite her age, she managed to keep her sense of humor alive and mind clear up to the last day on earth.
After my mother’s transition to the better world, I received two spirit messages from her. She asked me to light a candle when I was thinking of her as the same candle would appear in her dwelling nook enlivening the sense of being in touch with family on earth. In the last message, she said that my father Vladimir, who was enlisted into army at the beginning of the WWII, and whom war had never returned to her, found her, and now they were together in their afterlife.
However, their idea about living “happily ever after” turned to be the next idealization – not mine, now theirs that they had let go. Father’s war, and mother’s joyless life on earth had changed them both. And this was not my father, but my mother who made me rethink everything that I have learned about her and afterlife so far. Working on the book “Prisoners of Fame,” I heard from Myrna Loy, Marlene Dietrich, Cary Grant that everything moves and changes in afterlife, as it changes on earth, but only way faster and in more powerful ways. In different words, they tried to tell that everything that happens on earth is a shadow of what is unfolding in their world, “up there,” or “only some spins away” as the dwellers of the astral world say. Indian guru Yukteswar Giri, the author of “The Holy Science,” summarized it briefly, “Everything is possible in subtle worlds.” And this was exactly, what I had to learn about my mother’s afterlife.
About seven years after my mother’s death, I was approached by a spirit of a Hollywood star who spoke to me during my work on the book mentioned earlier. The actor came to talk to me about my mother’s situation in her afterlife. He said that my mother was …pregnant! He added, “She will give birth to a creature and she will be fine again.” Could I wrap my mind around this news? Of course, I did not believe him. Was he rehearsing a role in some sci-fi movie in his upcoming incarnation?
However, my guest was not done yet, because he had more to say. He reminded that after my mother’s transition, she was met nicely by everyone who shared their afterlife stories for “Prisoners of Fame.” Nevertheless, she misread that kindness and crossed the boundaries. In other words, I was asked to talk to her, and explain her who was who in the astral field allotted for the Golden Hollywood stars. He said that time to time they had similar problems with family members of some successful actors and, especially, actresses. My mother visited Golden Hollywood realm on her own… Do I really know what did happen over there? The cold shiver ran down my spine. My promise to take care of her intrusions into their lives wrapped up our pleasant conversation.
I started my investigation. My relatives kept silence, and pretended that they did not hear my question. But a stranger was informed to told me that my mother fell in love with a suspicious stranger whom she met on the streets of the astral world. Rather, he, a recruiter type of person, who was searching suitable subjects on the role of Guinea pig for a special project, befriended her. According to given me description, he was a handsome brunet with sexy mustache, friendly smile and very white teeth that helped him to win female hearts. He found out what the potential Guinea pig wanted most, and soon said to Tamara that participating in the project would earn her a small independent living space. She was introduced to the boss of that mystical bio laboratory and she agreed … to give birth to an experimental entity in an experimental laboratory. She signed the agreement, and rushed to share with the new man in her life the good news that she was accepted for the task, and she signed a paper. He was supposed to wait for her on “their bench” in a small park close to the laboratory building. But he was not there! And she never met him again!
Later, she told to Zhenya that she was impregnated artificially and was released back to the streets to carry out her side of agreement. Alone. She was too proud to ask anyone’s help. She refused to stay in her father’s, priest Mikhail’s small house. Because she knew that father would repeat hundred times, “I told you what’s out there! Children has to stay with their parents!” My mother wondered about the streets, stubbornly looking for “the new man” in her life, whom she had preferred to my father.
When the truth started to dawn on her that she was lured volunteer in dark Frankenstein business, she, probably seeking for protection, became a street walker. When her family and acquaintances tried to straight her out, she asked them sharply to stop moralizing, as they had no idea what her life on earth was all about. All she knew was hard work, and no fun. She, the daughter of a Russian priest, will not burden God with her problems, instead, she will take her destiny in her own hands. She continued to terrorize her acquaintances with question why they were itching to educate her now, in afterlife! Where they were when she, alone, a widow, dragged her small children, bed-ridden mother-in law, and her two helpless sisters through the war and hungry and dangerous post war decades in Sovietized Estonia; through the terror of mass deportations to Siberia, being persuaded to become a KGB informer, looking in dusty attic for a hook where to hang herself, if she would not be able to get them off her back. For some interesting reasons, at that time, nobody, no one offered her a helping hand to feed the crowd of misery surrounding her! She threw into their faces, “Leave me alone and mind your business!” And when I asked her to stay in my aura, she threw in my face the same words.
“I found how to feed you, when it was my duty to produce food for you. You left me your apartment, when you ran to America, leaving me alone with Zhenya in Estonia! We are even. Since now, you and I are strangers! You were a stranger to me always, I never liked you! And you did not like me as well.”
But she was not out of my life completely. The day arrived, when she accepted my modest offer to attempt to heal her.
After usual preparation for healing, prayer and meditation, I appealed for help to guides of my mother Tamara asking them to show me the metaphorical or realistic images of a problem that we could ease today!
I saw immediately in my “healing space” hay moving people under command of my mother. There were dark, heavy clouds gathering in the skies, threatening to destroy her dray hay in a minute… Old horse, our black Yulka was harnessed to the cart with a huge pile of dry hay, my small mother stood on the top of this pile shouting, “Faster, faster, faster, the first drops of rain are already here, lift your forks quicker, I can stack more hay here!” A minute later, Yulka was already moving toward gray lopsided shack to protect our hay through the winter time…
My IT picture changed suddenly. Now I was sown that dry hay was scratching her legs and arms, and her solar plexus area was filled to the capacity with images of the dray hay.
When the first drops of rain began to fall on her sweaty face, hay was already removed to the shack, she managed to save more than hay, but all her unbearable haymaking overwork, at least for now!
I prayed asking Light and angelic helpers to remove these hay images out of her solar plexus area. Light melted and erased them from her consciousness. I told her come again and expand the effort of cleansing of her chakras. Mother did not thank me or somebody else, and disappeared quietly. She did not tell anyone, if this cleansing helped her or not. I knew, if it would not help her, I would be informed about it by my relatives on the other side. Death truly does not change humans much!
Why she would so stubbornly cling to idea that I was not able… to do anything right? Or was it my karma to carry through my lifetime?
It started long time ago. I was about at age three. I woke up and want out of bed. But my blouse has buttons on my spine, and I called mother to button the blouse. She rushed into bedroom and turned the blouse around. Now the buttons sat in the front of the blouse. Mama says, her voice emanating irritation “You are big girl, think. Think! Do not call me for such stupid things like buttons.” Of course, she, a very important person, was too busy to deal with my buttons.
I am 7 years old. Our neighboring business savvy girl invited me to collect spring field flowers, make small bouquets, and sell them to people on our street. I was proud of myself, and brought home some pennies. Mother shouted, what you have done, my God! And ordered me to apologize and return my earned money immediately! I did. I apologized, I returned the money! I am ashamed ask money for my work up to these days, clearly understanding that I have to, but I cannot do it.
But what made her so sure that she was always right to put me down? I decided to continue looking into lives of my maternal side ancestry. It took some time, but I was rewarded with discovery of the astounding power of thought forms over our destiny. I will post the priest Mikhail’s story on my blog soon.
P.S. As a matter of fact, I got the story about the presence of dark forces in astral world, and most sadly, I received one more proof that suffering on earth does not bring automatically compensation on the other side. It may bring the opposite, continuation of suffering in afterlife, like it happened in afterlife of Yurik and my mother Tamara. In both cases suffering was carried over to the other side by negative thought forms, as they were stuck in both persons’ subtle bodies. In afterlife, they continue attract more negativity into hostesses lives. There is hardly anything more important than letting go these negative thought forms, our own unhappy creations.