Gone

During the 1980’s and 90’s, I took nine trips to the Philippines to study with some of the most powerful healers in the world. While I was there, I made friends with a group of like-mindedpeople and each time I returned, I spent most of my time with them. We were like family and I kept in touch with some of them.

I was online a few days ago, when a message showed up from a woman named Anna Pensacola. She was the sister of Riza, my closest Philippine friend and Anna was messaging me to tell me that
Riza had passed away. She had died at the age of 77 from lymphoma and she wanted her ashes to be used to plant endangered trees on her farm. That was typical of Riza’s kindness and awareness. Anna reminded me that I had introduced Riza to the healing power of crystals and she had embraced it as her life’s work. Sometimes we don’t know the impact we have on the people that we
love until they’re gone. I realized that I had been Riza’s inspiration. I had made her laugh when I dubbed the primitive bath room in the building where she worked as “The Discomfort Room.”

When I told Anna that I would contact a mutual friend to talk about Riza, she said, “He has also left us and so has his wife.”

The deaths of three friends was shocking. I went on Google to find my other Philippine friends and I got a pileup of grief.

Boy M. Gone

Jimmy. Gone.

Boy F. Gone.

Alex. Gone.

Chuchi. Gone.

Aleli. Gone.

In one day, I found out that I had lost half a dozen people whom I loved and admired. I had a stab of guilt that I hadn’t stayed in touch with some of them, but I was comforted by the knowledge that we had the kinds of relationships that rose above distance and time.

I thought about my beloved friends who had impacted me so much:

Their bodies made up the skeleton of another place and time.

Their souls invited me into their hearts and their minds.

They took me with them to physical places where Western people didn’t go.

They recognized me as a fellow traveler with no boundaries 

They chanted mystical songs to make me feel safe when I took my claustrophobia with me as I squeezed into tight entrances of hallowed caves.

I have never been anywhere, before or after, that was as magical as the places I went with them, where the extraordinary was ordinary. Where the paranormal met the normal and both of them were forever interchanged and transformed. A place where there was little
difference between the sleeping and waking world.

I walked around in a kind of trance that day and I had a vision of my friends’ bodies rising up and dissolving. My heart was broken and I have to learn to live with it. Remembering the gifts they gave me helps me feel close to them:

We climbed sacred mountains in the dark of night. 

We saw what they called mother ships.

We listened to invisible spirits singing.

We bathed in waters that allowed us to communicate with people who had passed away.

We uttered prayers at Mt. Banahaw to get permission from the spirits to enter sacred sites.

We witnessed extraordinary healings and paranormal events that should never have happened.

And yet, they did.

It felt tragic that there was no one left to keep the otherworldly realm alive, but I was leaving out someone. Me. I’m still here. I count. I’m someone who still has access to that world and to everything that happened. I carry it proudly and talk about it when someone is
interested. I even wrote a book about it, “Awakening the Healer Within.” My friends are dancing through the pages. They live inside of me and I’ll be carrying their wisdom for the rest of my life.

Missing each one of them has forced to face my own death. A friend told me that when her parents died, she realized she was next in line. I had the same experience when my parents died and here
it was again. I had to accept the fact that one day, I would be gone, too. I had to face the mystery of my death. Would I see my friends again? Was this an ending or a beginning?

 

When people talk about me when I’m
gone, (I hope they will), I’d like them to say, “She didn’t have any answers
but she had some really good questions.”