Being with you at the time of your death, even though we were a few hundred miles apart, has played havoc with the emotions one considers normal at someone's passing, but then we have never had what would be considered a normal relativeship, have we. So I say what the family expects I should be saying but I am feeling quite different.

I will also not mention to the family that I intend to continue to write to you, that I have gotten your replies to my past letters well before Canada Post delivered them, and see no reason for this to change. I already know your answer to this - if anything, your 'voice' is clearer.

In my thoughts I am playing over and over the 'tape' of your actual death because I found that fascinating. I guess I was sharing both experiences, yours and mine. And it wasn't a feeling of release or passage, no, not at all. It was an emotion I have never had before - I guess the emotion of death. It was intriguing and marvellous both at the same time. Do you relate to this? Did you go along the tunnel and see the white light as others who have started into death but returned have reported? Aaaahhh - okay, I understand, you need time to sort of incorporate all this and won't answer now.

Well, let me tell you, for me it was as if - now wait - I search for the words to describe something I have never had to describe before - it was as if here we were, you and I, and then you snapped your fingers, and there we were, you and I. And nothing had changed but everything had changed. Oh, this doesn't really say what I mean at all, but it does, it says it all. It's the fine edge of understanding and one simply cannot describe an awareness, one must experience it.

My head buzzes - I cross a dimension yet unfamiliar but so homelike I long for it but the stretch is causing me distress as I 'pull muscles of spirit' long unused. So I will give it a rest for the moment. And for goodness sake get in touch as soon as you are ready and able to answer all that I want to know. If you can. Maybe you're not allowed to share that knowledge for some reason. Whatever - I will be content with our usual contact or closeness or however you wish to speak of it.

Yes, the figs are finally ripening - just picked ten: six green (two went into the basket in the fig house for later snacking, four into the house), two in droop-ripe condition now in a basket on the table and waiting on being sliced into a bowl of creamy vanilla ice cream for an afternoon tea, and two, partially eaten by the starlings, were consumed on site. My boys think I am going to get some disease from eating fruit the birds have started on ("never know where those beaks have been, Mom!") but I can't resist. I just wish those darned speckled creatures would eat one fig totally and then go onto the next, not take bits and pieces of out so many!

I also noticed, today, as I was about to pop a late loganberry into my mouth, that it had a bug on it. I saved the bug a cavernous end and then wondered how many insects I have eaten over the years with my casual picking and popping. What? Wings are indigestible so remember to spit them out? Oh, okay. Your sense of humour survived the death trip, I see.

(Oh, I am going to miss earth contact with you, Pansy, and I am just being brave to think I won't.)

The theme of this week's garage sales was - bathroom weigh scales with one kitchen food scale thrown in for good measure (ha ha ha ha). Can you still laugh without a body? What does it feel like?

Just went out on the front porch stoop for a dose of sun and a snack of apricots and almonds (I got sort of early involved in the day and forgot to have breakfast) (actually the nuts were pecans but the alliteration sounds so nice I will let it stand and let precision follow thusly). And I wanted to see what was going on, of course - something always is.

Well, the pink frilly hollyhock were nodding in a sun bob and gave me much pleasure to companion. These are the volunteer ones - I have no idea how the seeds got here and isn't it fascinating that, of all the places in the garden they might have chosen to grow, there they are, right near the yellow hollyhocks (not frilled at all).

And then I watched the Sim cat walk up to the goldfish bird bath (you know, the plastic fish platter nudged in sand) for a drink and, instead of standing solid on the sidewalk and drinking steadily, he chose to straddle a rock, the curb and the sidewalk, and lap up the water in the most tottery of positions. Why, do you suppose? Do you have any more insight into behaviour now that you are out of it, so to speak. Oh, this will be fun, if you do. My already teeming curiosity will then know no bounds. Deepak Chopra says transcendence is necessary for a full and beautiful life, that one must cross boundaries. Nice to have a passion affirmed.

And then the mailman went by (actually a lady) and I felt the most incredible contentment and traced it down to an unchanging link to the past. The milk no longer comes in a wagon drawn by a horse; I haven't seen a Fuller brushman or a scissor sharpener or even an Avon lady for a long, long time. But daily I see the mailman. Well, lady. And I don't think there were women letter carriers when I was a child; I remember none. But you will know what I mean about the continuity that was evoked. It felt nice.

I continue to learn about myself and others in my adventure as a simplicity consultant which I am pursuing as you thought I would. It doesn't seem to disturb my dharma but be part of it.

One reason for being resistent to and fearful of change seems to be the notion that if we entertain the idea of voluntary change then we are expressing a dissatisfaction with our present state and may invite something less. A perfect example of the poverty consciousness that is so pervasive these days. When you can perceive a glass as half full or half empty why do so many choose the latter?

I had one client who got me to help her clear out her closets as we talked and she 'cleared out her head' - it was a liberating combination. Trouble was, once she had organized the closets she could not bear to throw out what she had set aside but begged me to take it home! I did come away with a handsome scarf (see, I'm wearing it) and a linen tea towel but I left her with seven boxes and the number of the Salvation Army. I suspect those boxes will remain with her until we have a session or two more 'head clearing.' Which is fine - nothing benefits from being forced before its time.

Oh, such a strong feeling of your giving me a hug just now - I can still smell your powder: lily of the valley today. I think I want to stop writing and open the way for thoughts without words.

Love