For several years I have followed this forum--found quite by accident while looking for an alternative medicine matter--I have never broken my neck, but I have hurt people; I have no knowledge of a prior life, but hope I don't have another one on earth in a flesh body; I have not had an NDE, but I live close to some corresponding reality that is almost here--occasionally offers glimpses of itself when least expected. // This is a dangerous place for our permanent being, the one that survives the journey to heaven. Just when we think we are doing o.k., doing good, our very zeal can, for some of us, become just one more passionate path to power and control guised as a cause or fixing things or misguided helping that some poor soul has to endure at my hands.// If you relate at all to this situation, you might try the following: it's called the Little Way; it's about small actions done well and with kindness. And it helps to cure me of some perverse ability to "cut to the chase", nail the nonsense in a meeting, penetrate the heart of an issue and forge ahead to the peril of my permanent self because I am so good at the nasty game that other people play as I set out to fix nastiness. For many years now, as a remedy to some 1970's-style activism that kept me diverted, I have embraced little things, anonymity, not seeking people but accepting those that cross this way; allowing them see things differently, even annoyingly differently, than I do. Mostly looking to nature, to studies and learning, but also even cleaning a toilet without getting annoyed and doing it well. Even singing. I am finding through the Little Way more reality, truth, in the color patterns on one fallen aspen leaf in fall than I ever found in stormy meetings trying to fix a broken world with my own brokeness. The Little Way is not for everyone. But some people, like myself, do better in the quiet and in contemplation(while still having to hold a job and steer clear of work politics); and always watching, waiting, waiting, for light to gather us into its loving self.
And thanks to all of you who have helped me to care more about my life, now and forever, than my liver.