Ordinarily I would not presume to share others' stories, except for one
reason: to use the story to make a point. For example, I
have shared some of my family's stories, because it's important to
understand how these can be so personally enriching and, I believe,
specially provocative, inceptive for the spiritual inclinations of
others within the family and/or one's circle of cherished familiars. There's a thing about kindredness
that is like adding a rich spice to an otherwise good stew.
There's an added personal Something that potentially contributes power
to the magnetic pool of influence in our spiritual lives. You can
feel it in your body -- your chest or heart -- when this additional
attribute is added to the story. It's my grandmother, my
brother, my mother, my father, my friend.. For
most of us most of the time, we are open and trusting with our families
[including close friends / kindred spirits] in a way we are not
with the rest of the world. There are some filters down or missing
with those who are close to us. Of course, sometimes this is just
the opposite [however you want to read that], where it doesn't work this
way at all. Even if someone is by nature skeptical of such things,
to hear such stories from or about family members [preferably 'from'],
the story "sticks" in a way that it probably does not from
most other sources. I also believe the skeptic takes this
with hir to the life beyond; the story is a seed and sooner or later it
will grow and bear fruit.
An example is the story of 'JoAnn'. Upon regaining
consciousness from surgery, she had a personal encounter with someone in
her family she was very close to that caused her
almost instantly to suppress a near-death experience. From that
moment, the dramatic incident was as 'gone' from her memory as last
year's headlines, for years. When it finally resurfaced, the
recovery was also dramatic for her. There is no doubt that
suppression of such powerful personal experiences can have consequences,
as can the recovery of such memories, as in this case.
