But I Raise My Glass

Tonyblog

Today, April 14, 2018 marks the 19th anniversary of the death of Anthony Newley. As I write this, friends and fans of Tony gather in London to lift a glass celebrating his life. He was a truly unique talent – creator of musicals both for the West End and Broadway, songwriter, singer, actor, director and mime. He inspired so many young performers and writers. He inspires me.

Even with all my work and study with the dying and now the dead, I feel certain that consciousness survives death, I miss him. He died too young, robbing his family of a loving father, his friends of “someone who made you feel like the most important person in the world,” and his fans of so many more magical stories and songs he would have created. We all die with unrealized potential. He died with universes left to unfold.

The soul that was Tony Newley continues but we are no longer be able to “Look at that Face.”[1] See his hands sing. Hear that unique voice and wicked laugh. Feel the embrace his friends describe as “engulfing, the biggest bear hug in the world.” Those are gone forever.

But not Tony. Not the spirit who endured an early life of despair and privation, not only endured but then soared to the very heights of the entertainment world. And back down again. That complex and charismatic spirit discovered nineteen years ago that what we call death needs redefining. It is not annihilation as those trapped in materialism argue. It is transcendence to a different frequency, a different dimension no less real than this one, for the “real world is really unreal.”[2]

It is okay that we miss the dead but we should never dismiss them. Nor should we bind them with intense sorrow. For someone we love, it is the least we can do. So today, I raise my glass from this side of the pond, joining those who celebrate his life. And then…I continue to build the bridge where we shall meet and share and create…together. Tony built a mountain. [3] I’ll build a bridge.

[1] Song from “The Roar of the Greasepaint, The Smell of the Crowd”

[2] From the song “This Dream” from “The Roar of the Greasepaint, The Smell of the Crowd”

[3] “Gonna Build a Mountain” from the musical “Stop the World, I Want to Get Off”

Listening Deeply

Letters-rising-off-book-pages

I wanted to check in after being silent for some time. It’s not that I haven’t been writing but my focus has shifted to a possible book. It is predicated upon all the work that I did first in death midwifery and now with the Community of Spirits. The idea ignited right around the winter solstice and has been going like gangbusters since. It is a project that, if it comes to fruition, will take a long time…so I wanted to check in and just connect with you.

I won’t speak of the topic. When I was a member of a Western Mystery school, when inspiration is hot, it is suggested to keep the vessel, the inspiration, tightly sealed, keeping things hot, holding the tension, allowing no leakage and therefore no weakening of the inspiration during the creative process. Writing is a fragile thing: it needs protection during its earlier stages. So I hope you will understand.

However, I would like to comment on something I am discovering about this particular process. In my journey to cross the threshold to the world of the “so-called living and the so-called dead” as Rudolf Steiner would language it, I have experimented with many different techniques: mediumship, the psychomanteum, the use of various brainwave entrainment music and various deep states of meditation. I’ve learned something from all of them.

Yet now…I find myself leaving all that behind and just sitting very silently and regularly, breathing deeply…and….listening. Just…listening. Then trusting what comes to me as having value. The source of this information, this dialogue? I am not sure. I do not know if I will reach a place when I do know for sure. Or perhaps the best attitude to take is that of a true skeptic as Dr. Raymond Moody would suggest. He told me that the classical skeptic never reaches a conclusion for to do that closes yourself off from any other possibilities. With your eye firmly on a conclusion you ignore your peripheral vision and therefore can miss miraculous things. That would be a great loss.

So…quietly I sit…listening more and more deeply as I sink down layer upon layer of…what? Mind stuff? The Higher Self? The Enlightened Dead? Yes to all? No to all? It is far too early in the process for me to tell if I ever will. But one thing I know is this: when I reach that place of connection with whatever this is, and we converse…it feels so beautiful…so loving…so safe. So…I must trust that there is purpose to this venture, that it will in some way serve.

I wanted to share that in the hopes that even this little bit of discovery might serve you…and just to connect with you for a bit…you who choose to read my little ramblings.

Thank you.