How the Universe and I Had Our First Fist Bump

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 A World Where Death Has Lost Its Power | by I. Trudie Palmer | Medium. death. Beating death. Life after death. Awakening. Dark night of the soul. When Death has lost its sting. reborm. redemption. How to overcome death. Medium Writer’s Challenge. Winning.
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I died in 2019. Well, at least that was the official year I would have to say the final nail was hammered into the proverbial coffin. But I was never given a proper burial because my family did not notice until about two years later after two other members of my family also died.

Death was not something that happened to persons who were very close to me, at least not close enough to feel any deep sense of grief knowing that I would never see them again. I mean, there was the passing of a few family members, one or two friends, and many acquaintances over the years but never anyone for whom I felt this deep visceral missing. Until 2020. Two family members that I knew all my life; that I had grown up with; played marbles and cricket in the road with; went to the beach with; gathered sea grapes and looked sand crabs for cooking with, died. That was my closest brush to experiencing what should have been real grief. They were dear to me, both of them but I did still not experience that gut-wrenchingly painful sense of loss. Because I had died the year before them and so I understood death and the process of dying.

Now that my story had thoroughly confused you, let me explain how it happened.

Late in 2018, I interviewed for the job of a lifetime. It was a job that I have always wanted since I knew what wanting a career entailed. I wanted to heal people with food; I wanted to be in the thick of promoting healthy eating and healthy lifestyles; I wanted to be in a position to influence policy for change; I wanted to feed the world or at least my part of the world. So when I applied for a recently vacated position that I knew would allow me to do this, I was over the moon. The interview went well — at least in my books and soon I was anxiously waiting for the congratulatory email that alas, never came.

Well, an email did come about three months after. It was to say sorry a better candidate has been selected for the job. Those were not the exact words, but I knew and you know as well, when at some point in our lives, having received one (or many) of these dear johns, we understand that that was exactly what was meant behind all the fluff — someone better, more able, and capable was chosen and you, my friend, were the loser yet again!

This news could not have been delivered at a worse time. My partner, whom I had loved since my university days and had the opportunity to meet some fifteen or so years later and start a relationship with had just, quite unceremoniously, dumped me. We had had a five-year relationship that came with its ups and downs but had more ups than downs — at least in my view.

What resulted was the proverbial double whammy which led to a spiraling downwards for me, the two pillars of what I considered important to me — work and love, had crumbled and I was left flailing in the wind. It was not even a cool breeze, the ones that hit you just so on hot summer nights, it was of hurricane proportion and I was not prepared — no rope, no anchor, no port in a storm.

The only action I was left to take was to shake my fists at the Universe and ask why me — a question that I am sure it has heard many times when, as humans, we feel that the last straw was just dumped on our backs. We cry out to the Man, first accusingly and then begging for a reprieve and a response.

For me, the funny thing was, I actually got an answer — it was time to die.

And so, during a treacherous dark night of the soul, that saw me on many occasions drenched in hot tears, the part of me I always knew and depended upon for my identity in this world, died. And out of the embers of smouldering fear, regret, loss, pain, and trauma, there rose like a phoenix, a new me, one that was tuned in and turned on to the greater part of me.

I had begun to meditate and I found a connection to a greater spark that lit up my life and set fire to my soul. The unknown artist and sleeping writer in me emerged; the real lover and carer in me made its appearance; the happy person that I came here to be surfaced. And the past me was left in the ashes of 2019.

By early 2020, when the whole world was screaming and running for the hills behind locked doors, I was my most calm, most happy, most zen. I understood it all — the reason and the process and the new consciousness that was to be born out of this catastrophic event.

So I did not cry when my family members died. I rejoiced for I knew what was happening. Death was not the end, it was the beginning of something new and exciting. It was the returning of the soul from whence it came — to its real home. I was at the stage of my awakening where I was able to share this information with a family that was hurting so badly. How many believed me? I do not know, but they had begun to see the change in me. I was in a different place — died and was born again with this new knowing and clearer understanding.

Now, as I position myself to weather the storms of a new beginning — a new happy existence where physical death has no power; where false beliefs learned from childhood conditioning hold no sway; where feeling happy is the order of the day, I raised my clenched fingers to the Universe for a second time but on this occasion, it was for our first fist bump.

I. Trudie Palmer
One Love



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Ilis Trudie Palmer

Ilis Trudie Palmer

Energy, Creativity, Spirituality, the Great E.S.C; One dose of upfulness in each story or poem or song lyric.