By Ashara Morris, one of the Women Moving it Forward…

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My best friend of the last 25 years died in early December 2018. My oldest cat died a few weeks ago. Mortality is staring me in the face.

I’ve spent most of my life running from death. Not in the death-defying way of Captain Kirk, who spit at death and beat it back over and over, but more like person-hiding-behind-trees-if-it-can’t-see-me-it-can’t-get-me stealthiness. Except I can stealth all I want; the reaper and I are going to meet up at some point. Nobody gets out alive – or perhaps nobody keeps the particular physical body we have in the moment is a better way to put it.

Please note that I didn’t refer to the reaper as “grim”. There’s a part of me that feels like the next adventure is going to be awesome, so when we DO meet, I hope that part of me is feeling frisky, grabs the reaper’s hand, and trots off into the ether, head held high and really looking forward. The other part of me, though, the part hiding behind trees, does tend to be in control more often than not. Not as often as she used to be; I was a white knuckle flyer, every little ache or pain in my body was a death sentence, I could start hyperventilating at the mere thought of leaving the planet. I wanted to outlive whoever I was with at the moment. I was always the last one standing.

As I’ve aged, I’ve come to terms on a few levels with my own mortality in this physical body, and developed a belief system that seems to work for me – that we do continue, that hell, if there is such a thing, is right here on earth, that all is forgiven (because God/TheUniverse/AllThatIs is pretty nice), and that we get to come back if we want. I’ve certainly seen that played out time and again with my animal friends. They keep showing me that we continue. I keep seeing it, believing it intellectually, and STILL holding back my faith to some degree. “What if I’m wrong….?”

A dozen cats, dogs and horses can’t be wrong. They cavort around me, showing me parts of their former personalities (and sometimes even more), and as time goes on, letting the discernment be deeper and more mysterious. I’ve gotten to the point with them that if I can imagine it, it can happen. If that’s so with them, then it must be true for us humans, too. Right? Right.

TorbiAloysiusSmall

Aloysius photo bombs Torbie.

So – out there somewhere is my friend, Joy – who is still Joy but more than Joy, and when she returns will sort of be Joy but definitely more than Joy. We have conversations weekly, just like we used to when she was in a human body. They’re pretty amazing. This little voice pops up in my head, and darned if it doesn’t sound just like her, and I write down what she says. And out there somewhere is my cat friend, Aloysius – beautiful boy, teacher on so many levels, telling me (and I can hear Joy in the background, telling him what to say) that I don’t need crutches any more, I know what I’m doing, so for goodness sake just do it because people need it. Time to stop hiding behind trees and bushes, and get on with life.

They went before me. I should listen to them, I think. Except don’t think. Feel. Feel what’s going on. And then get on with it. Okay, OKAY. Message received. And thank you.

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Ashara Morris is a Certified Equine Gestalt Coach and incredible Animal Communicator. She speaks with animals living and passed, with your guides and helpers, and can assist you in moving forward in your life on a variety of levels. She has lots of experience “stepping up”. Learn more about her at www.harmonysheartanimals.com  or www.harmonysheartcoaching.com.

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