The Content Taxi Driver

I had a flying trip to London last week for a meeting and got talking to a taxi driver as he took me to Victoria station.

I asked the habitual question, 'Have you been busy?' Then I remembered how much of a ridiculous question that was as he was a taxi driver in the capital of England.

'Yes' he replied.

'How long have you been doing this for?' was my next question.

I watched as he did some quick maths in his head. 'Thirteen years.'

I asked him if he enjoyed it and he said he did.

'Don't you fancy doing anything else?' I asked.

'No, I don't think so,' he replied, looking at me through the rear-view mirror.

'What did you want to be when you were a kid?'

'A professional golfer,' he said.

I could see him smiling as if remembering how amazing that dream actually was.

'What do you do in your spare time? Is there a hobby you do which you could excel in?'

'Nah, not really,' he said.

There was a pause as we snaked in and out of cars, buses and cyclists.

Then he said something which made me smile.

'I'm content, you know.'

'Yeah?' I said. 'That's good.'

'I've never really been one of those ambitious people who reach for the stars and have to have this or that. I'm content driving my taxi and doing it the best I can.'

I continued to listen whilst smiling and looking at the passing scenery of tall buildings, trees and loads of busy people doing their thing.

'I'm not unhappy but I wouldn't say I'm over the moon either. I'm just content with what is.'

Brilliant.

I think there are a lot of us who mistake happiness for contentment.

For me, happiness is on the surface and has little depth. It might be short-lived and it comes in bursts. Contentment goes much deeper, but only shows subtle ripples on the surface in the form of a small smile of knowing that all is well.

The taxi driver was content. He didn't need dreams and ambitions to find purpose in his life.

I learnt a lot from him.

'I've been to a good place. Everything's OK.'

Whilst volunteering at my local hospice last Monday, I was made aware of a booklet called Nearing the End of Life - A Guide for Relatives and Friends of the Dying written by Sue Brayne and Dr Peter Fenwick. This booklet is there for anybody to read.

Now, it was Fenwick's name that jumped out at me because I've read his amazing book The Art of Dying.

He is a well known researcher into NDEs (Near Death Experiences) and OBEs (Out of Body Experiences) and believes that at the point of death, consciousness doesn't cease to exist, but actually goes on to another state of existence.

I was excited to find this booklet (which has been there for ages and I've never seen it until now) because other material I've read which the hospice provides for families (especially to help them with their grief) says, and I'll paraphrase, 'Once your loved one has died don't be surprised if you feel their presence around you, or have certain sensations like being able to smell their aftershave or favourite perfume. These are natural reactions to grief.'

This simple says that if you feel your deceased relative around you - it's not them. It's the grieving process.

I don't agree with this.

I'm a trained bereavement support worker with Cruse Bereavement Care and they said the same as the hospice - again, I disagreed.

If someone has felt their deceased loved one by them and it's brought them heaps amount of comfort and has eased their pain of 'losing' them, then surely, just because this experience can not be explained scientifically by our limited understanding of consciousness, we shouldn't assume that these experiences are grief-induced fantasies.

What a shame to dismiss someone's comforting experience out of ignorance.

The booklet, which I mentioned above, contains several stories. One of which I would like to share with you now:

DENISE'S STORY

I knew that my father was going to die that day and decided to leave him alone with my mother.

I had no problem leaving him as he had told me he was 'ready to go', wasn't frightened and very calm. We spent a lot of time talking while I nursed him, and without actually saying it, we had said our goodbyes.

I wandered around until I just felt that he had died, returning home to find he had indeed died 20 minutes before. I felt mixed emotions of relief, as he was no longer suffering and fearful.

I had not seen a dead body before. I stood nervously, with my back to the wall, at a distance, plucking up the courage to approach.

It was then I felt the pressure of hands on my shoulders and a voice whispering in my ear, 'I'm OK'. This was followed by the overwhelming sensation of a very strong force moving far away with immense speed.

I knew it was my father. Any fear I had I felt melted away. It gave me the strength to deal with the duties associated with death. Much later I realised this experience had removed my fear of dying.'

Imagine saying to Denise, 'You were just grieving. It's natural for things like that to happen.'

But that's exactly what our current scientific understanding of these experiences is saying.

I've recently read Raymond Moody's latest book, Paranormal. Moody has played a huge role in the field of after death studies. In the 70's, with his book Life After Life, he coined the term Near Death Experience. His latest book is biographical in nature.

He explains his troubled relationship with his dad, how his dad never really accepted his research into life after death. His dad, you see, was a respected surgeon so he had his reputation to protect. He even, at one point, admitted his son (Moody) to a mental institute because he thought he was loosing the plot with his latest research into the technique of scrying.

Towards the end of the book, Moody describes the passing of his dad, and this is what I'd like to share with you now, as it really made me smile. Remember, this is someone who, throughout his life, didn't believe in life after death, despite his son's tremendous research:

In the moments before his death, my brothers who were there at his side said his breathing picked up and they were amazed to see his eyes open; the doctors had told them he was in a coma from which he would not regain consciousness. He was wearing a beatific smile as he looked into their puzzled faces and said: 'I have been to a beautiful place. Everything is okay. I'll see everybody again. I'll miss you, but we will be together again.'

With that proclamation, he died.

I always remember the psychic medium, Johnathan Edward, saying, 'I prefer to live life believing in an after life and then to find out there isn't one, than to live life not believing and to find out there is one.'

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