The open heart and ADEC

Eight years ago, I started this blog as a way to explore evidence of the afterlife via synchroncities. My most recent losses at that time were my mother and great aunt who had just died within four months of each other. My heart had been ripped open. I hoped and prayed for some kind of "proof" that there was life beyond death. There was desperation in my search. I wanted to believe that they were just right there on the other side of the invisible curtain, and if I just listened hard enough, I would "hear" from them. Each synchroncity provided a wee bit of comfort, and the comfort expanded as more and more synchronicities happened.

I never expected to still be writing about synchroncities eight years later, but when I now look at the body of "evidence" of my own experiences, I am in awe. I am no longer searching for the "proof" of a connected universe, because I feel the connectedness every day.

I am now in my third year of membership in ADEC, the Association for Death Education and Counseling. My very first conference experience was overwhelmingly positive and I have been hooked ever since. Members of ADEC are all drawn to the field of death and dying from a profound personal death experience. Let's be honest here, kids generally don't aspire to be thanatologists when they grow up. We didn't choose the profession, it chose us.

One might think that gathering together with a massive room full of people who have profound loss experiences would be draining, like one big depressing funeral. After all, being around one grieving person is hard enough, why would you want to be around 600 people with sad stories? Wouldn't it be more fun to work on taxes? Or get a root canal! (poor dentists, this is always the comparison... but i have had a root canal and it is indeed quite awful ).

The truth is, being with ADEC people is unlike any other crowd experience I have ever had. Our losses have ripped our hearts wide open and left us exposed. Collectively, what this translates to is an invisible thread of connectedness that binds us to strangers. There is a sense of belonging, of knowing. You are still here and despite the pain you have endured; you survived. Me too. We were once alone, and now we know we are not ever alone.

Every time I come to an ADEC conference, the synchroncities go off like fireworks. I have over ten so far that have happened to me personally, and have heard countless others. First timers and veterans alike marvel at them. Almost all of the synchros are people related, and it is as if our guides and loved ones on the other side are arranging and rearranging us for serendipitious encounters.

The topic of after death communication comes up frequently at this conference. (that alone was proof for me that I was with the right crowd). The other night I had a delightful dinner with five other women and we shared our ADC experiences with each other. The question was asked as to why the "communication" takes so many forms. Why do "they" (our loved ones on the other side) have to send us a totem, a sign, a synchro? Why don't they just say hello? The answer to "why" is not ours to know. At least not now. But we do know with certainty that the messages are being sent. Those that have their radio on can receive. And I think that the receiver is inside the heart...only accessible to the hearts that are open.

Death education is a happy place

I recently had the great pleasure to attend the 32nd annual conference for the Association for Death Education and Counseling (ADEC.org) in Kansas City, MO. Having never attended this conference, I was not sure what to expect. I thought some people might be a bit 'goth' and perhaps morose with a lot of black. (I didn't think too hard on the matter). What I actually found was an amazing gathering of people willing to open their hearts and talk about the big stuff. To be clear, it wasn't all "serious" conversations - there was a lot of laughter too. Not surprisingly, there were quite a few synchronicities and serendipitous moments. But before I get into those, I wanted to talk about the general feeling of openness and try to share the experience.

Robert Neimeyer, for those of you who are not into Thanatology (the study of dying, death and bereavement) is one of the significant researchers in the field. As a graduate student, I recognized his name as one that I saw a lot in my studies. When I saw him at the opening reception, I asked him if he would take a picture with me for me to send to my advisor to goad my advisor about who I was "hanging out with" at the conference.

Because I did not know Professor Neimeyer personally, it was a big risk to walk right up to a top scholar and ask for a moment of his time. Well, he was so gracious and so polite and when we took the picture, he had a genuine smile - not a forced pose like most people do when asked to take a picture with someone they don't know. The person who was trying to use my phone to take the picture struggled a bit with the design of the camera phone (Google, please fix this!) and the moment extended into several as we had to keep trying...and then the lighting was bad, so we tried a different angle. Still, every picture had that genuine smile. (I would love to share, but when I took the picture I did not mention the internet, so in respect to him I shall leave it out...). Later on that evening and early the next day, we kept passing each other. Each time he smiled, genuinely. I felt special to be acknowledged by someone as important as him.

For the keynote address the following day, the main room filled up quickly and I was told there were open seats up in front. (Most like to sit in the back so they can get out of the room quickly). I ended up sitting in the very front row. There was one empty seat next to me in a very full conference room, and who should walk up and inquire, but Professor Neimeyer. Now, I had already randomly run into him 3 or 4 times in the past day in a conference of 600 people, so it was quite amusing to me. I told him, "I swear, I'm not stalking you!"

The keynote was amazing - one of the best I have ever seen. He made us laugh, he made us cry. His name is Thomas Lynch and he is a former funeral director, essayist and poet. I should be embarrassed to admit this, but I had not heard of him prior to this event, so it was even more surprising and delightful to have been so thoroughly entertained. But here's what also struck me. Sitting next to me, Professor Neimeyer laughed heartily. Several times when he laughed, he looked around to watch other people laughing too. It was like he took great pleasure in other people's laughter as well. Now you may have seen studies about how we laugh more in a group, yada, yada, yada, but this was different. He actively looked around and took in the laughter of others. He turned to me while he was laughing to see if I was laughing too. It was very unique to me and I pondered it for several days. What does it mean? Why does he do that? What does it say about him?

Over the course of several days in having additional connections with a wide variety of attendees, I talked about my experience and observations and I found out that others had similar stories -the feeling of connectedness. Granted, Professor Neimeyer has been going to this conference for years and is a former president, but so many people had the same type of experience - a meaningful (if brief) interaction with this man who is one of the TOP of his field. I even heard a story about him in a Conga line at a conference in the early '90s. Let me remind you, he is a top scholar on DEATH and DYING and he is this super friendly, open, warm person who laughs heartily.

And in thinking about this man, I realized that he personified for me the experience from the whole event. Those who study death and dying are, in the words of Thomas Lynch, "in the deep end of the pool." We were all connected. No one there has had an easy life. One doesn't just "happen" into the field of death and dying and grief and loss... we're there because we know loss. Intimately. But once one knows loss, you process it, you think about it, you accept it, you are free. You are light. It's there. You understand that you could lose your husband or your wife or your mother or your father, your child or your best friend tomorrow. You could even die yourself. So today is an opportunity, a gift. What do we do with this gift? Do we treasure it? Do we open it, share it, devour it, dance with it? Absolutely.

Thank you God for giving me today.