Book Description
Excerpt:
After returning home from the 'fighting for my life in the sea' ordeal, I showered, slipped into my soft, midnight blue pajamas and fuzzy blue socks, and fell into bed to get some sleep. I wanted to be refreshed for my evening adventure with My Fool. Waking up hours later in my bed, I stretched, sore from my oceanic escapade. I was staring at a surrealistic Wizard of Oz poster on my ceiling. It seemed to mirror the journey I'd begun this morning at the sea and would continue tonight in search of my dead mother.
The room was almost dark, hence the sun was almost down. I rolled out of bed and crossed the bedroom floor. My twenty-year-old caramel-colored cat, Jensen, followed with an arthritic limp and hearty meows. When I got to the kitchen, I flipped on the light, opened a small can of cat food and emptied it in a white china bowl on the floor. Only the best for my beloved cat. As he sat to eat, I ran my hand over his bristly hair from head to rump, knowing he was soon to die.
Death was such an odd thing, a seeming good-bye that most often elicited in the survivors dire pain, a healthy dose of fear, and perhaps a shot of religion. We commonly call out for the deceased to return--even if only in the heart, or in spirit, and even if only for a moment. We might even enlist a clairvoyant to make contact with our deceased loved one. But I was soon to employ a less popular method to find my mother. I would go to her in whatever world or world's she resides. I was ready, My Fool's protégé, through and through.
From the Publisher
'Life rolls along, it seems, throwing punches and presenting prizes, often when we least expect it. A fire combusts in our backyard or a heart-warming package arrives at our doorstep. Our child dies in an accident or we are pregnant at long last. We are diagnosed with cancer or a loved one survives impossible circumstances.
`The seeming randomness of such events might be perceived as unfair or lucky. Or the seeming deliberation of fate exacting these occurrences might be seen as punishment or reward. Or the finality of such happenings might be interpreted as a forsaking of, or a miracle of--God.
`No matter which way the positive and negative events in our lives are viewed, we are often left with a sense that we are at life's mercy. Even if we do everything in our power to control our environment and the people around us, so that `bad things' can't happen--the yard can still burst into flames, the child can still die, and we can still be diagnosed with cancer.
`This helpless feeling often generates anxiety and depression. It can fuel obsessive compulsions, neurosis, hysteria, paranoia, agoraphobia, and emotional paralysis. In an effort to quell the uneasiness, people often become excessive in their behavior and develop addictions to alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, gambling, television, virtual reality games, chronic exercise, or even work. They might become spend thrifts or misers, overeat or under eat. To guard vulnerability, people might chronically lie, cheat, brag, deny, complain, or blame.
`But what if our life events were not random or the result of punishment or reward, betrayal or miracle? What if there was rhyme and reason for every single event in our lives? The yard catching fire might be about instilling caution to avoid a future fire that would be far worse. Our child dying might be about a new adventure for her while gifting us with a needed set-up to fulfill our current life intent. A cancer diagnosis might be about triggering a sequence of events whereupon we must value ourselves enough to extract hidden inner strength, setting us on course to fulfill our life intent.
`And if we were able to step back and back and back from these challenging scenes, we would witness how every occur-rence was relevant to the unfolding of our story.
