Walking on the frozen lake this morning, with ou pup, Jema, at my side, I recalled the words of an elderly acquaintance: “My Irish and Scottish grandparents were steeped in the presence of their family members who had died, and spoke of them as if they were in the next room.” This wasn’t so long ago. It’s my heritage and probably yours.
While we may lament the near erasure of this old wisdom knowing, we can decide to consciously rediscover what used to be taken for granted. Rudolf Steiner wrote much about the need to bring conscious intent to all our undertakings. In doing so, we become elders, co-creating our reality, our world. It’s time.
But how to begin…
In my work with both ill and dying patients, the topic of loved ones who had died would often come up. When asked if they ever felt their presence, invariably a memorable experience or anecdote revolving around something “unexplainable” would surface. Often this would come from people you would least expect it to.
Prompting with little questions is helpful. Something that allows our senses and imagination to travel a less worn path, away from our usual assumptions. Then our memories, experiences, and perhaps even the presence of those who have died may find a way to coalesce, bringing something to mind or heart that might have gone unnoticed.
At a retreat a number of years ago with Robert Sardello, founder of Integral Spiritual Psychology, he began by asking a question that took us by surprise: “Who brought you here?” That puzzled most of us, and certainly shifted our usual perspective. Then as we sat in the quiet, the intent became clear—Who, indeed? The image of my deceased Dad came to mind. Yes, my Dad brought me. My journey with exploring death began at his deathbed many years before. Dad “brought” me to this retreat where I would learn more about the ways of heart, grieving, and being in relationship with those across the threshold.
Years later, I asked the same question when we began our first community deathcare group. People were surprised by the question, but everyone was able to speak of a “who” that brought them to the gathering. And whose presence seemed to join us when named.
So, dear reader… a little question, Who brought you to these pages?
We don’t have to be “psychic” in the old way, or on a psychedelic. Just come to a place of inner quiet and ask the question. For me, it’s a bodily felt sense, and sometimes an image or a name will arise. We can also just begin by taking note of the little nudges that guide us in certain directions on a daily basis. What is intuition, inspiration, synchronicity anyway? Maybe, at least in part, they are ways the dead speak to us.
As I write in my book, “In being led to this ancient door of my ancestral past, I seemed also to be awakening not just myself but those who reside there.”
In fact, the next room can start sounding pretty lively after a while.
And that’s another reason for doing this: allowing our beloved dead to play a role in our lives, in our world. They are needed, they want to help. Can we let them in by a little acknowledgement, a little conscious awareness?
Your wondering about this little question—Who brought you to these pages?—will help us all with the task that has come to us: hearing the whispers from the far shore, in a way appropriate for our times. Please add your comment in the comment section below, even if it’s a one-word response. There are no “right” answers, and there are many paths. And what you say today may change tomorrow. But the way is made by walking, wondering, writing…
More on these themes are found in Nancy’s book, to be published by Inner Traditions, April 8th, 2025.
Pre-orders of The Call to the Far Shore: Carrying Our Loved Oneshrough Dying, Death, and Beyond are now available through your local bookstore, Amazon, and most major booksellers.
https://www.amazon.ca/Call-Far-Shore-Carrying-through/dp/B0D9TMVNL9
https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/The-Call-to-the-Far-Shore/Nancy-MacMillan/9798888501092
From the Foreward by Robert Sardello: Dive into the ocean-like depth of this writing … To read this book is to invite radical change, both personal change and changes in the lives of those around you… for these stories will increase the depth of your being.
Who brought me here? You did, dear friend, but not just you. There is a host of 'others' at your gates, and when I am alone with you, the room quickly becomes crowded with many others - some alive, some passed, but all very present as the veil between life and death thins and the heart opens. How lovely to see Gemma in the snow, and I also enjoyed the heart-art at the beginning of this post too!
Who brought me here? It's complicated ;-)