Oh, Death
Whoa, Death
Won’t you spare me over ’til another year? – Wiki
“There is no death. Consider life and death like the flipside of the coin — never seen, yet the afterife is ever present.” – The Nightlight Oracle.
The Gentle Doorway of Change
Lately, I’ve been surrounded by reminders of impermanence. Several transitions are unfolding at once — some human, some animal — each, with a quiet teaching to offer. When you love deeply, the passing of any being feels like an earthquake in the heart.
The Hidden Choreography of Departure
The thing I find most amazing about these transitions is how highly choreographed they are. Nothing unfolds at random. Subtle cues begin to appear — perfect timing, meaningful dreams, sudden synchronicities, even changes in the behavior of animals, as an invisible team of directors steps in to guide the entire passage, cueing each scene with care and compassion.
As the body becomes less animated, the spirit grows more aware. Even when a person appears distant or unresponsive, on a deeper level the spirit is actively taking in the surrounding hum — listening, sensing, and preparing for the leap to a higher plane. What seems like withdrawal is, in truth, an alignment process. The frequency is shifting, and that shift opens the door to greater perception.
This is often when paranormal phenomena intensify — lights flicker, clocks pause, electronics spark, animals gather, synchronicities cluster. These anomalies are part of the framework — natural expressions of energy adjusting to a new configuration.
Death is a reorganization of energy — a transfer of consciousness from one octave to another. The choreography is precise, compassionate, and electrified. The so-called oddities serve as signals: the transition is underway; all is proceeding as planned.
When viewed through that lens, fear gives way to awe. We begin to sense the exquisite precision of it all — the orchestration of exits and entrances, the way the unseen world steps forward to guide the passage. Life and death are not separate acts; they are complementary movements in the same symphony.
Shared Wisdom
Through the years, I’ve explored the work of researchers, experiencers, and mystics whose insights have helped me navigate this area. The short list includes:
Dr. Raymond Moody, who gave language to the near-death experience.
Dr. Kenneth Ring, who documented the transformations that follow.
Dr. Yvonne Kason, who teaches how Spiritually Transformative Experiences can heal as much as they humble.
Leslie Kean, who gathers evidence for continuity beyond the body.
And Seth, the channeled teacher who reminds us that forgetting our vastness is part of how we grow through the heart.
If you are walking through grief, caring for a loved one in transition, or simply pondering what lies beyond, I offer these reflections in the spirit of comfort and companionship. You are not alone.
Prepared to Travel Light
Death is a flip of a coin — a transition, not an ending. To one side, physical solidity; to the other, an equally real plane where thought and form merge. What was once taken for granted rearranges itself into vibration, intention, and awareness.
Disorienting at first, but when the shift settles, it becomes liberating — the reason so many near-death experiencers resist returning to the physical plane.
In Life After Life, Dr. Raymond Moody first charted what so many described: the tunnel, the light, the meeting with loving beings, the panoramic life review — and then, the decision point. Some are told, “It’s not your time.” Others feel themselves drawn back by the thought of loved ones. Yet many return reluctantly, as though pulled from the true home of their being.
Dr. Kenneth Ring explored that same pattern, noting that after such encounters, experiencers are permanently changed. They lose their fear of death, become more compassionate, and develop a greater sense of mission.
Such stories echo the analogy of the coin flip. When perception shifts to another side, the senses reassemble in new form. What was once limited becomes whole.
Learning the Language of Light
The guides suggest there is more to this story, saying incarnation is a challenge of remembrance. We recall fragments at key times to release what no longer serves — and to value the wisdom of not knowing.
This message finds resonance in the work of Dr. Yvonne Kason, who coined the term Spiritually Transformative Experience (STE). After surviving five near-death experiences — beginning with a 1979 plane crash — Kason writes of how each passage reshaped her awareness. She describes an initial confusion, a yearning to return to that luminous field, and then, over time, an expanded clarity that infused her daily life. For her, acclimation is not forgetting but integrating the light into form — learning to “translate” higher frequencies into human expression.
Remembering Across Lifetimes
Journalist Leslie Kean, in Surviving Death, documents cases suggesting that memory transcends the body. One striking (and well documented) story concerns a young boy named James, who at two years old began recounting vivid memories of dying as a WWII pilot — naming aircraft, carriers, and even the location of his crash. Historical research confirmed the details.
Kean’s compilation of accounts include mediumship, verified reincarnation memories, and shared-death experiences, illustrating how consciousness seems to retain continuity even as the body dissolves. It suggests pieces of the coin occasionally shimmer through both sides at once.
Seth and the Multidimensional Self
In the Seth Material, channeled through Jane Roberts, Seth teaches that every incarnation is a chosen expression of a greater multidimensional being. Forgetting one’s total self is part of the contract — it allows growth through feeling, through the heart rather than the intellect. Seth’s words mirror the guides’ message: You are learning to remember by experiencing what you have forgotten. Each life is a focused portion of the whole, and the whole expands through every act of awareness.
Through that lens, death is not loss but reintegration — the return of the particle to the wave, the finite to the infinite.
The Ocean of Continuity
Nothing here is as it seems. You are far greater than you imagine.
The light that animates you is not extinguished — only transformed.
To borrow a metaphor from Moody’s later work on shared-death experiences, the moment of transition is like two rooms briefly opening into one another. Those near the space sometimes glimpse what lies beyond — the familiar blending with the luminous.
When wonder dies, the light winks out. When curiosity thrives, the light expands. Death is the movement of that light — a diffusion into the next dimension where it recombines and continues.
Aloha — we meet again.
We remember what we agreed to before incarnating: to love, to learn, to forget just enough to rediscover ourselves through the heart. That is the hidden curriculum of existence — evolution through awareness.
Archangels
What is the role of Archangels?
Archangels serve as the luminous bridge between planes, whispering that the purpose of incarnation itself is expansion — even for those in the higher realms. They show up to inspire and to remind the soul it is loved beyond measure.
Beyond time and space there is light, conscious and aware of every spark. Each soul is a descendant of that Source, destined to reincorporate when its term is complete.
Language for description is lacking. It is ocean and wave, water and mist — none separate. Evaporation is temporary. So is incarnation. When water becomes vapor, it does not die; it only ascends. When it returns as rain, it nourishes new life. So too with the soul.
Finite to Infinite — Wave to Ocean
All is motion, all is life. The coin flips, and you are on the other side —
not gone. E-x-p-a-n-d-e-d. The evolution of the particle and the whole continues. All evolves. All is ONE.
Departure Imminent — Tally Ho!
“Tally Ho!” — an exclamation of excitement, readiness, and trust in the unknown. It’s the soul’s equivalent of “Away we go!” when standing at the edge of a great adventure.
If death is merely the flip of a coin, then Tally Ho! is the joyful cry that accompanies the turn — the recognition that what waits on the other side is not darkness, but continuation in a new light.
Even the act of letting go is part of the dance. So, when the call comes — whether to cross, comfort, or carry on — we can meet it with readiness. The heart follows the light.
Tally Ho!
The adventure continues.
Conscious Living & Wendy's Coffeehouse 