Giving an idea wings

Before meeting with a friend for a coffee on Friday, an idea came to me as to how I could get my book into the hands of more readers.

The basic principle was for the reader to pass it on once they'd read it.

You know what an idea looks like in your head, right? It's vivid and it calls for your attention. If you don't give it your attention it fades, and sometimes I've found it can move onto somebody else who is more than willing to invest time and energy into it.

I can't remember the amount of times I've said, 'I had that idea,' but simply didn't act on it.

So the idea for my book came as an image in my mind's eye, and it looked like this: the book was opened on the first page and in it were the words, "Dear reader, once you've read this book, please pass it on to somebody you think will benefit from its message. With love, Gavin." And at the bottom was the date and the words, 'Book 1'.

I got kind of excited by this so I acted on it without delay (excitement is usually a clear sign that an idea deserves some attention). I got the only copy of my book I had, opened it up to the first page and wrote the words I saw in my mind's eye.

I then took it with me when I went to see my friend and gave it to her as a gift. I asked her if she would be interested in starting off an idea for me, 'to give my book wings,' I said. She was thrilled by the idea and said she would be happy to pass it on once she'd read it.

So - - - - in a short period of time there's going to be ten copies of my book floating around. I'm going to pass them onto friends to pass them onto their friends, who will pass them onto their friends.

I think it's a beautiful and rather organic way to spread the comforting message of the book - a message I believe in.

So if you do come across my book, Waiting for Wings - A Story of Hope, know that it has been given to you because the giver thinks you might gain something of value from its content. I sincerely hope you will then pass it onto somebody else for them to gain comfort.

Much appreciated.

G

Poem - 'Together'

Writing poetry is something I took up about two years ago. I never force an idea. If it doesn't come easily, then I don't write it.

Three nights ago, before going to sleep, I said to myself I wanted to write a poem to help people who have lost a loved one.

I woke up with the following poem ready to be written.

(I suppose that's where the term 'sleep on it' comes from).

Together

by Gavin Whyte

 I never thought I would say this,

So it is my hope that you believe;

But death is not the end,

It's just the way it's perceived.

We always dreaded that moment,

And I know we said it wasn't fair,

We had so many plans,

And life didn't seem to care.

But now I understand, you see,

Every breath is planned by our host.

We were together, love,

And that's what mattered the most.

We will pick up where we left off;

Time will become a thing of the past.

Eternity as one,

Me, you, together at last.

Farewell Letter by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

I haven't updated the blog in a while, for the simple reason that I haven't felt like saying much.

What is there to say when one spends one's time looking and listening?

Words don't seem to come close to capturing the moment felt.

I got given the following link this morning and I felt compelled to share it. I read it out loud and it had a massive impact on me.

So this is it for this post. Short and sweet, but I hope the content of the link will make up for it.

Happy living, folks.

Remember to breathe deep and smile!

http://www.prrb.ca/articles/issue08-marquez.html 

Boomerang

I'm currently reading Lessons from the Light by Kenneth Ring. It's a fantastic book which covers what we can learn from the near-death experience.
Since I was a young'n I've asked the question, 'What happens when we die?' so I'm naturally drawn to such topics as NDEs and OBEs.

In the book, Ring states that, as an exercise, we should reproduce the quotes he has used from NDErs - so I don't feel guilty for doing so here.

You see, when you read what people have experienced when they have been close to clinical death, it's like a contagious bug; you end up changing, especially if you read them with an open mind and an open heart. Your perspective on life begins to change, and you start to notice your feelings, thoughts and actions and the effects they have on you AND others.

This where it gets interesting, because when people have an NDE they go through certain stages. One of which is a life review.

This life review is like a film being played back from your first breath to the present moment - but you're not detached from it. You are the observer but you're also taking part in it. And it all happens in an instant because time is fiction. Our minds can't even begin to comprehend what that must be like.

This is where I turn to the quotes in the book to show you what people have reported, just so you get a taster.

"Then it seemed there was a display all around me, and everything in my life just went for review . . . When I would see something . . . it was like I was seeing it through the eyes with (I guess you would say) omnipotent knowledge, guiding me and helping me to see. That's the part that stuck with me, because it showed me not only what I had done, but even how what I had done had affected other people . . .because I could feel those things . . . I found out that not even your thoughts are lost . . . Every thought was there."

How does that make you feel?

Every thought was accounted for!

Here's another one:

"I remember one particular incident . . . when, as a child, I yanked my little sister's Easter basket away from her, because there was a toy in it that I wanted. Yet in the review, I felt her feelings of disappointment and loss and rejection. What we do to other people when we act unlovingly! . . . Everything you have done is there in the review for you to evaluate (and) when I was there in that review there was no covering up. I was the very people that I hurt, and I was the very people I helped to feel good . . .It is a real challenge, every day of my life, to know that when I die I am going to have to witness every single action of mine again, only this time actually feeling the effects I've had on others. It sure makes me stop and think."

That's some powerful reading.

Can you imagine not only seeing what you've done to others, but actually feeling what it was like on the receiving end, whether it was good or bad?

One last one for you:

"Mine was not a review, but a reliving. For me, it was a total reliving of every thought I had ever thought, every word I had ever spoken, and every deed I had done; plus, the effect of each thought, word and deed on everyone and anyone who had ever come within my environment or sphere of influence, whether I knew them or not . . . No detail was left out. No slip of the tongue or slur was missed. No mistake or accident went unaccounted for. If there is such a thing as hell, as far as I'm concerned, this was hell."

Can you see how you can be changed by reading such accounts?

How do they make you feel?

Next time you call someone a name, think how they must feel - because, chances are, you're going to feel it when your time comes.

Next time you lose your temper at the traffic lights and give someone the finger, think what ripples you've just caused. And consider the possibility that those ripples, caused by your feelings, thoughts and actions, will recoil straight back to you.

Even if you don't believe the accounts, not only will you be dismissing thousands of peoples' experiences, but you'll be gambling with your souls growth and condition.

In the book, the author suggests you finish the following sentence:

When I reflect on these commentaries in relation to my own life, I  . . .

Why not give it a go.

Remember, whatever you say to others is reflected back to you. Whatever you do to others, whether good or bad, is reflected back to you.

It comes back to the old adage, what you give is what you get.

After reading these accounts I wrote the following in my journal: 'Life is like a boomerang; at the point of death, what you have given, you shall receive. This is universal justice.'

More on this topic later. :-)

Lulu

This post is a little belated but never mind.

My book, Waiting for Wings, is now available to buy in paperback.

I've used Lulu, a self-publishing, print on demand company.

I did this because, not only do I trust them to create a brilliant finished product, but by going with them I'm chopping out the middle man from the equation. Middle man being the hard-to-reach-publisher.

I received a contract in March from a publishing house. I was very excited at the prospect. The subject in the email I received said, 'Contract book offer.' I can remember sitting back in my chair before opening it and saying, 'Sh*t, this is real.'

I read through the contract and it seemed OK to the layman that I am, but I decided it would be wise to get a solicitor friend to read through it, to which, when she did, pointed out some factors that didn't sit very well with her - and later, myself.

The more I thought about accepting the offer, the more fuzzy my stomach felt.

I tell people all the time to follow their gut instinct; it was time to take my own advice.

I declined the offer with the trust that something better would come along.

Lulu was brought to my attention about three years ago and since then I've visited their site several times and looked at what was on offer (in terms of the genres they covered, how much they charged the customer AND the author etc) and that fuzzy feeling never once made an appearance.

My aim, since completing Waiting for Wings, has been to get it out there to as many people as possible - as quickly as possible, and by using Lulu the speed of making it available was achieved.

Now it's just up to me to get it out there - but I won't turn down your help.

I know, from what I've been told by those who have read it and reviewed it (thanks to all of you) that people will gain something of value from reading the story.

As the review by Felicity Warner (Author of Gentle Dying and the founder of Soul Midwives Foundation) says, 'A wonderfully uplifting book, which I would recommend to anybody fearing the process of death or living with a degenerative disease'.

I'm massively grateful to have been (and continue to be) part of this process with the book - it's a real journey, and with it being my first book I'm learning a lot.

I'm currently working on a new project; a short illustrated book on bereavement for 4 to 6 year olds. It's being illustrated by my good friend, Laura Skilbeck. I can assure you it's going to look great when it's completed. I've seen her ideas - and I'm excited!

The ball is rolling faster than ever now with Waiting for Wings and I've always believed that word of mouth will play a big part in getting it to the right people at the right time in their lives.

If you have read it and think someone you know will benefit from its message then please feel free to pass it on.

Once again, thank you.

If you haven't already seen the book, the following link will take you straight to it:

http://www.lulu.com/shop/gavin-whyte/waiting-for-wings-a-story-of-hope/paperback/product-20138926.html

The Visitor

Today, on my delivery, I spoke to a lady who was recently in a nasty car crash. Her three children were in the car as well but fortunately they were unharmed - physically, at least. They've had nightmares ever since. Whereas she can't remember a thing.

The last time I spoke to her was not long after the accident; she looked like she had been beaten up really bad. Her face was swollen and was made up of several colours, ranging from yellow, red, purple and blue.

When I saw her today she looked like she had recovered 100%, although she told me she still hurt inside.

She still can't remember anything that happened. Her children keep trying to kick-start her memory but to no avail.

Then she said something that resonated with what I'd been thinking and reminding myself of all morning.

'Having this experience has made me realise that it can all be over in a split second. One minute you're here, and the next you're not. We (her and her husband) haven't even made a will. We're in the process of making one now. We didn't think about it before. You think you're invincible, don't you? You go through life thinking that you're going to be here forever. But you're not.'

I shared with her the saying that goes something like, "A mere banana skin separates you from death".

'That's exactly how I feel,' she said. 'You can be gone like that.' (she clicked her fingers).

I mentioned before some resonance between what she said and what I was thinking of.

What I was reminding myself of was making me feel great. It was making me perceive things more clearly. Gratitude was overflowing from within. My senses came alive every time I uttered it. I was soaking up everything. And the more I reminded myself of this one statement, which only consists of three words, the more elevated I felt.

And those three words were . . .

I'm
.
.
.
Only 
.
.
.
Visiting.

Honestly?

Honesty.

I try and be honest as much as I can. I don't like to feel like I'm being fake or my integrity is being compromised.

It becomes tricky when feelings come into the equation; whether they belong to you or somebody else.

We (I say We, but I can only speak for myself) don't like to upset or offend anybody by being honest, but sometimes the honesty has to be expressed, and if there is awareness there and the honesty is taken on board with openness and acceptance, then personal growth can develop.

Lately, I've had to be honest with a couple of friends and I wasn't sure how they would react and if our friendship would be put under strain. It had troubled me for a few days, causing mental static and stickiness.

I live in the same building as a Buddhist nun, and she said to me, 'They might be good people, and that's why you don't want to hurt their feelings, but if they are good friends, then they will stick by you and your decision.'

Then she said, 'I think in times these, we know deep down what has to be done.'

And she was right.

I had made up my mind to tell my friends how I felt, but I was delaying doing so out of fear.

After speaking to her I went straight to my laptop and sent both my friends an email telling them what was bothering me.

Within moments they replied saying how they completely understood; how they felt the same way and how they would continue to support me with my endeavours.

The metaphorical weight I had gained on my shoulders was unnecessary, but it in an instant it got lifted and left behind.

They were good people - and they were friends.

What a feeling.

There're times when honesty comes from a place of irritation, though, and doesn't really benefit the people involved.

A man on my delivery was cutting his grass. He stopped, looked at me and said, 'Don't you postmen wear uniforms now?'

I looked down and my uniform, then back at the man and said, 'Yes, mate, I'm wearing it.'

He looked me up and down and said, 'Well, you look shit.'

Honesty.

(The words stung a little, but then I realised that they had nothing to do with me whatsoever. Come to think about it - have any?)