You’re allowed to leave any story you don’t find yourself in. You’re allowed to leave any story you don’t love yourself in.
You’re allowed to leave a city that has dimmed your light instead of making you shine brighter, you’re allowed to pack all your bags and start over somewhere else and you’re allowed to redefine the meaning of your life. You’re allowed to quit the job you hate even if the world tells you not to and you’re allowed to search for something that makes you look forward to tomorrow and to the rest of your life.
You’re allowed to leave someone you love if they’re treating you poorly, you’re allowed to put yourself first if you’re settling and you’re allowed to walk away when you’ve tried over and over again but nothing has changed.
You’re allowed to let toxic friends go, you’re allowed to surround yourself with love, and people who encourage and nurture you. You’re allowed to pick the kind of energy you need in your life.
You’re allowed to forgive yourself for your biggest and smallest mistakes and you’re allowed to be kind to yourself, you’re allowed to look in the mirror and actually like the person you see.
You’re allowed to set yourself free from your own expectations.
We sometimes look at leaving as a bad thing or associate it with giving up or quitting, but sometimes leaving is the best thing you can do for yourself. Leaving allows you to change directions, to start over, to rediscover yourself and the world. Leaving sometimes saves you from staying stuck in the wrong place with the wrong people.
Leaving opens a new door for change, growth, opportunities and redemption.
You always have the choice to leave until you find where you belong and what makes you happy.
You’re even allowed to leave the old you behind and reinvent yourself.
Those of us old enough to remember when the phone was wired to the wall, usually in the kitchen, can relate to this story. I loved this read.
When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was “Information Please” and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone’s number and the correct time.
My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.
The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. “Information, please,” I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.
A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.
“I hurt my finger…” I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.
“Isn’t your mother home?” came the question.
“Nobody’s home but me,” I blubbered.
“Are you bleeding?” the voice asked.
“No, “I replied. “I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.”
“Can you open the icebox?” she asked.
I said I could.
“Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger,” said the voice.
After that, I called “Information Please” for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, “Information Please,” and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her,
“Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?”
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly,
“Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.”
Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone,
“Information,” said in the now familiar voice.
“How do I spell fix?” I asked
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much.
“Information Please” belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, “Information Please.”
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.
I hadn’t planned this, but I heard myself saying, “Could you please tell me how to spell fix?”
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, “I guess your finger must have healed by now.”
I laughed, “So it’s really you,” I said. “I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?”
“I wonder,” she said, “if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls.”
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
“Please do,” she said. “Just ask for Sally.”
Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, “Information.” I asked for Sally.
“Are you a friend?” she said.
“Yes, a very old friend,” I answered.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” She said. “Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago.”
Before I could hang up, she said, “Wait a minute. Is your name Wayne?”
“Yes.” I answered.
Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you. The note said,
“Tell Wayne there are other worlds to sing in. He’ll know what I mean.”
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
The first part of the book is a teaching style in which Khorshed Bhavnagri’s sons share with us how they died, how they went to the spirit world, and all the learnings that they received there. Written in a dialogue format, the two sons who passed away share their experiences of meeting the High Good Souls, and the reasons for communicating with human beings on earth – including their parents. The book is written by their mother Khorshed Bhavnagri who supposedly received the teachings from her sons via automatic writing. Here’s a quick recount on what they have shared:
The spirit world has 7 realms, and each realm has 10 (counted from 0 to 9) stages. Each stage becomes better as it goes up. Realm 1 is supposed to be the closest to the earth and the darkest realm.
Realms 1 to 3 are the lower dark realms with no hint of light / day. They are known as what we call Hell. Realm 4 is the in-between realm, akin to the earth; where there are both night and day. Here’s where the human soul is born and carries out its deeds / karmas, thus, paving its way to either go back to the lower realms or ascend up to the realms 4 and above. Realms 5, 6 and 7 make up Heaven, the most beautiful being the 7th plane.
The concept of time in the lower and higher planes is different than that of Earth. Times moves very slowly in these planes.
Every soul’s goal should be improvement over self (or self improvement) so that it can become better and better until it becomes the perfect being – one that can reach God.
In the spirit world, souls become younger as they grow wise with enlightenment and learning.
High Good Souls are souls that are the rulers of each realm. They permit souls to travel from one realm to another.
Some people like to help everyone but helping evil people is wrong as you become party to the evil actions committed by such people. So, one must be very careful while helping others.
While earth has all kinds of souls living together, spirit world segregates souls by keeping them separate in separate realms; good souls are on a different realm together and bad souls on another; and evil souls on yet another.
Bad souls can be helped, if they repent – not to anyone else but to themselves. Repent with true intent.
Motive is everything – what’s your motive behind your charity, your actions such as visiting temples, helping others? Are you feeding your ego?
Bad souls stay together and continue to harm each other as is their nature. But the only way out of this misery of lower levels is to seek genuine repentance and a true call for help. The minute a bad soul is ready to repent, good souls from the higher planes come down to help the soul on its journey of enlightenment.
What you sow, so shall you reap is true; however, the reaping happens because of one’s own subconscious mind which knows the sins it has committed – and not by God as is believed by many.
God wants each soul that is living on earth to help others facing difficulties – and more than that, to help evil people back on the righteous path.
Purpose of rebirth of a soul is three-fold:
To protect & help loved ones
To finish karmas left over from previous lives – purifying the soul so that it can rise to a higher level (planes / realms)
To progress spiritually by taking part in its spiritual mission
It’s a myth that departed souls should not be contacted. In fact, departed souls are always looking after their loved ones, and they keep trying to communicate with the loved ones to guide them through their journey in life on Earth, to help them understand friends from foes and to ease their pain. Departed souls who were very closely and deeply connected with their loved ones when alive, tend to get affected by their emotions in the spirit world as well. That’s why they wish to ease their pain on earth.
If one has the ability or skill to communicate with departed souls, it is a great thing and it should be developed to help others. Good spirit world beings are always on lookout for people on earth who can communicate with them so that they can pass on messages to their loved ones.
Most souls on earth have taken rebirth 100 to 2000 (two thousand) times, and many of them have been on the lower realms.
It is true that evil souls could possess physical mind – but it is also true that this happens if and only if you yourself are innately evil. If you are a good person and try to communicate with good spirits, you will receive helpful messages from them.
It is advised that one must never attempt automatic writing on their own without a protective link from an experienced and already-linked person. It could turn dangerous as evil spirits could be attracted.
Part 2 of the book unfolds as a series of questions and answers. Most of these are probably questions that many of us would have thought about at least once in our lives.. such as
Why do we suffer so much in spite of leading a good life?
Why should we pay for something that we did in some other life and we don’t even remember it now?
and the like
All in all, the book is definitely convincing and I wouldn’t say I don’t believe in it; however, there are still persisting questions in my head that remain unanswered.
If you would like to explore it yourself, here’s the link:
As I move ahead on my spiritual path and discover new things about myself in this journey, I have received a lot of answers to questions that I always had, and to those that I never had either.
I will try my best to share this journey with you, maybe one of you will identify with it, who knows?
Songs affect me in a huge way. I can not bear to listen to some songs (esp from the oldies lot like Kishore Kumar’s) because they make me depressed.
Deja Vu is a common phenomenon with me, because I tend to have the feeling of “I’ve been here before”, or “I’ve seen him/her before” quite often.
Pink skies make me depressed and a bit scared as well.
I am highly highly sensitive and tend to pick up vibes very quickly. (To my deepest chagrin, at work, I am just the opposite..!!!!)
I like/do not like cities or places according to the vibes I get.
I tend to immediately catch the feelings of a person around me if they are sad, depressed or in grief.
I cry a lot… a lot means really a lot. Every emotion results in tears – joy, sorrow, grief, anger, irritation, upset – every damn emotion and the tears flow.
When someone shares their feelings with me, I suffer along with them because those feelings and emotions become me and I become them. This is the worst trait I have.
Hate crowds. Hate empty stores too. Extremes.
These movies disturbed me very badly: Trapped, Life, Alien Covenant – you get the point.
Long conversations, especially with acquaintances tire me out. I can’t sustain long phone conversations either.
Loud noises, loud speakers, screaming people etc. disturb me and drive me to madness. So also, I get startled easily, even by something as small as the ringing of a phone – I jump out of my seat. There have been times when I actually dropped the phone when it started ringing.
I can NOT multitask. Neither physically not mentally. Conversely, I can read two books parallelly – but each a bit at a time, I can switch from reading to painting to crochet to cooking faster than a butterfly switching flowers.
I need time out after social get togethers, not that I go to too many of them.
I have this very strong innate desire to heal others. Like I sometimes wish I had a magic wand to do that.
You can NOT force me to do what I do not want to do. If you force me, I will feel suffocated.
I am always disturbed by injustice. If I see any injustice happening around me, I have to hold the urge to get involved and give a piece of my mind. (My latest anger is directed towards Mr. Modi for coming up with privacy-killing ideas such as compulsory registration of marriages. What will women in our society do? He is so insensitive to women. My second latest is against trolls who want to keep pestering people who have no interest in them.)
Many times, I feel emotions that I have no idea where they have come from. I go down without reason, I am happy without reason… I have no idea what touches me during my course of the day.
You may have hurt me profusely and you may have back-stabbed me, but I will reach out if I know you are in pain. And I beat myself up for it, because it is the most vulnerable thing to do – put yourself up for more pain with people who do not value you.
And of couse, I am drawn to healing modalities. Obviously.