A Sudden Goodbye to a Treasured Friend

Tremayne Johnson thought about you, prayed for you and sent you love.To you, me, everyone whether he knew you or not. He beamed love to the world through deep meditations, energy healing and his sparkling smile. He was a quiet soul with a big heart that was always open to help others. He never failed to ask great questions and had a sharp, inquisitive mind.

I met Tremayne several years ago through our mutual friend, Melody Krafft, at the Fairfax Public Access television studios. He asked me to do a show for him and together we created "Heart-Centered Success with Diane L Haworth." He was the  producer, director, often the cameraman and always the greatest promoter of the show. This photo was taken on our very first day of taping. It was a great day and one that was better than I expected because of Tremayne's skill, encouragement and never ending patience.

We had similar interests and soon became friends. I actually called him my "work husband." We'd talk for hours at the studio and on the phone...the topic was always the same. Love. How to spread love, live love, teach love and help create a more loving world. His mission in life was to learn, understand and share all he could about unconditional love. It's no surprise that the name of his production company was "Love Unleashed."

My dear friend passed suddenly last week at the age of 46. His family and friends are devastated by this loss.

There's one thing I have no doubt about. Everyone who met Tremayne was blessed by his beautiful heart and I know he continues his loving work on the other side.

In his memory, I'm even more dedicated to spreading the message of love on this planet. And I have an idea. To honor Tremayne, and all those people who strive to make this world a better place, today let's think the best of others, make kindness a way of life and speak our truth from the deepest knowing of our divine soul.

Now let's do that everyday...

The Secret to Life is in the Asking

What Does Love Look Like Here and How Does Love Move Me Forward?

           Life can be hard. We all deal with harsh situations like the pain of loneliness, a broken heart, deep grief, losing a job or serious health concerns.

           I’ve learned difficult life lessons over the years and remembering to ask myself a key question has been the secret to my sanity. Remembering to ask “What does Love look like here and how does Love move me forward?” has been one of my most challenging lessons. It’s certainly the most rewarding.

While I’ve actively used this query for many years, it took me being an observer to really understand the meaning of this practice.  I got to see firsthand what love looked like when my friend Jim passed away at home after a long illness. It was life changing.

           When she knew Jim’s time was short, his wife Linda asked me to come by the house. It was here I witnessed a pivotal lesson about what love looked like at work in the world. I arrived at their house and was greeted by the family, their faces red from crying. I went into the back room to see Jim lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by equipment. He was weak with labored breathing, but a dim light still shone from his eyes.

           I can tell you what love looked like that Wednesday afternoon at Linda and Jim’s house. I saw love in tear stained cheeks, in colorful posters made by the grandchildren, in the gentle stroking of Jim’s skin and in loving hands administering Reiki. I saw love in the fussing with the bed sheets, in the loving gestures toward Jim and each other, in the position of the bed so he could see the emerald green lawn and softly swaying trees in the back yard. I saw love in the medications and the essential oils, in the whispered “I love yous” and in Jim’s determination to hold on a little while longer. I saw love as patient, kind and resolved.

           As the grandchildren arrived from school, I witnessed love move the situation forward.

           We all gathered around Jim’s bed, gazing at his face, hands on him and each other. I heard his daughter whisper in his ear. “We’re here Dad. We love you, Dad. We’re all one. We’ll always be together.” Love moved forward with dignity, grace, respect, strength and surrender. And relief for physical suffering that would soon be over. Love moved with deep gratitude and appreciation to our Creator for a shared life and unique journey.

           Jim’s breathing became faint and we watched as he peacefully slipped from this world to the next, surrounded and supported by love. It was a beautiful experience. What a privilege to have seen love in action with this amazing family.

           This experience was profound. It brought home to me the value of recognizing what true, unconditional love for oneself and others looks like in any given situation. Love for yourself is not long-suffering sacrifice which always breeds resentment; it’s not always having to get your way or even putting yourself first.  Love asks us to recognize the Divine Spark within and treat it with the same respect that’s given to others.

           “What does Love look like here and how does Love move me forward?” I’m embarrassed to admit that I know how resentment, anger and jealousy move me forward. I’ve been shoved, prodded and pushed by those emotions many times and always with disastrous results. But how exactly does Love move you forward?

           While your head will never know the answer to that question, your heart already does. Go inside, into the quiet wisdom of your own heart, and ask. Listen. While I don’t know what your answer will be, I know it comes accompanied by a feeling of peace. And freedom.

           Following Love’s guidance from the heart allowed Jim and his family to gracefully move through one of life’s greatest challenges. Love will guide you as well in any situation big or small.

           You just have to ask.

Love in Laughter and Tears

Our hearts don't really break, but sometimes it feels like it. And if often happens at the most peculiar times. For me, it happened just this past weekend.

Saturday was my darling grandson's second birthday and a time for great joy as our family gathered to celebrate. Several of his toddler friends attended the party and added to the fun. For hours we heard giggles, belly laughs and the occasional joyful shriek as the children played and the smiling adults mingled, ate good food and watched the fun.

It was as glorious as a two-year-old party could be.

While I was there, I was totally caught up in the excitement, but in the day's quiet times, my heart was heavy. Earlier in the week, a "kid" from our old neighborhood had died. And I heard the bubbly blonde cheerleader who graduated from high school with me had died as well. The morning of the party, I learned a beautiful young mother I knew through our Course in Miracles on line group had succumbed to cancer. 

Laying in my bed that night I my heart was full of joy thinking of the life ahead for my beloved grandson and at the same time, I felt such sadness for the lives that had ended. It was a weird feeling. And I wasn't sure how to deal with it.

As I allowed myself to feel the sadness, I decided not to judge the recent deaths as "right" or "wrong." As best I could, I abandoned the idea that these departures were "too soon" or "unfair." I decided to relax into the only thing that was true, eternal and real. I relaxed into love.

I imagined those souls who had passed and all who knew them surrounded by love, which to me looks like an effervescent pink and white glistening mist. I blessed them all and silently honored their life journey. I prayed that the families found the comfort they needed in this time of grief and I thanked each soul for being part of our shared experience.

I also remembered to relax into the love that was filling my heart thanks to my grandson. Grateful tears filled my eyes as I thought of the joy and new energy he had brought to our entire family and the happy years I expected to come.

Right before sleep, I remembered that love is ever present in the laughter of toddlers and the tears of the grieving. It’s the current that runs through life and helps each of us no matter what step we are on our journey.

Anika, Dad and the Zombie Princess

This week marks the second anniversary of my Dad's death. I decided I wanted to note the event, but from an upbeat perspective in this week's blog.

“What could I say?” I wondered…then I remembered the sweet gift I received from a gorgeous four year old named Anika and decided to share it with you (with permission from her mom, Anja).

After Dad’s passing, I was given the beautiful drawing you see with this blog along with the following letter:

Dear Diane,

I wanted to send something special to you and your family to let you know we care about you so much and you are in our hearts. I thought Anika could help with this by drawing you a picture of your father in in heaven. I explained that a dear friend of mine’s father did not die (because no one ever does), but he decided to leave his body. I wanted to send you an explanation of the picture and everything that’s in heaven, from a four-year old’s perspective. She shared in detail with me as she drew this picture, as she knew we would be sending it to you.

Bottom left:  your dad, you (Diane), your mom, Anika (she didn’t want to be left out), part of a person she had to start over with, and Kitty (her toy kitty she takes with her everywhere). Next to the kitty are some letters she learned to write in daycare (also above the others are some more letters).

Bottom right:  a rainbow, a flower and above the flower a “rainbow car” with wheels (she said it started as a dolphin but morphed into a car at the end).

Above your dad:  two hearts – a baby heart and a mommy heart. To the right of the hearts is a fairy (green), an angel (pink) and a zombie princess with pearls and string in her hair (because what heaven would be complete without a zombie princess!). To the right of the zombie princess is a ring (pink circle) and to the left are more hearts that got colored in.

Top right: the star shaped figures are a mommy and baby crown with skirts and feet. You also have a sun, blue sky and clouds.

I don’t know about you, but I think heaven is sounding pretty cool. 

Sending you and your family much love, 

– Anja & Anika

I miss my dad. When I'm feeling particularly sad, I look at this beautiful picture and see Dad in heaven with Mom, a pink angel, green fairy, rainbow car, crowns with skirts and feet....and a zombie princess.

It always makes me smile.

Life Is Eternal. Love Never Dies.

Life is eternal. Love never dies.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when my sister asked me to go with her to the Afterlife Conference this past weekend in Norfolk, Virginia. I didn’t know if we’d be chasing ghosts, listening to lectures on angels or what. But I went. She said, “This’ll be good…”

She was right.

For nearly four days we listened to traditional clergy, hospice doctors, paranormal researchers, psychologists, grief specialists, shamans and professional mediums all give unique views on death, dying and what lies beyond. We met parents who had lost their children, family members mourning a loved one lost to suicide and war vets struggling to understand massive wartime loss.

We attended speeches by researchers like Dr. Raymond Moody whose ground breaking 1975 book, “Life After Life,” detailed over a hundred clinical studies of patients who had experienced “clinical death” and had been subsequently revived. The work established him as an authority in near death experiences and helped change the world’s view of the afterlife. Remarkable.

Tears often weld up in my eyes when I listened to tender stories from a hospice chaplain who described patterns he’d observed as he waited with his patients during their last days.

I heard professional medium John Holland console a mother as he brought messages from her deceased child including specific and unique details no one but she knew.

I was amazed by a psychological technique that had been developed in the mid 1990’s by Dr. Allan Botkin in a Chicago Veteran Administration Hospital to help the most severely traumatized Vietnam vets find closure with their experiences. His work led to a revolutionary, effective – but non-traditional – method called “Induced After Death Communication.” Fascinating.

Throughout this remarkable conference, one theme repeated.

Life is eternal. Love never dies.

Whether we heard it from a rabbi, pastor or shaman the message was clear. Life is eternal. Love never dies. Doctors, critical care nurses and psychologists reported the same. Life is eternal. Love never dies. Over and over again, the mediums delivered the same message.

Life is eternal. Love never dies.

I don’t know if you believe in mediums, the paranormal or the validity of near death experiences. You may not believe in traditional western medicine. Whatever your beliefs, I hope you consider the consistent message we heard in our conference.

Life is eternal. Love never dies.

Nothing Is As It Appears

Have you ever heard the phrase “nothing is as it appears?” It reminds us that we only “see” through our own mental filters. We bring our opinions, learning and past experiences to everything we see, hear and think which colors our perspective.

When we were kids, my family traveled from our Virginia home to visit relatives in the mid-west. I remember we stopped in Michigan one year and my dad decided to treat us to a “nice” dinner. After a recommendation from the hotel staff, we were off. Dad negotiated the station wagon up and down the crowded city streets until we came to what appeared to be a run-down warehouse. A single metal door marked with the name of the restaurant was visible under a lone street light. The building had no windows, no decoration, no curb appeal. It was scary.

“This can’t be it,” my mom said. “It’s the right address,” Dad countered. “The guy said it looked rough, but for us to go in anyway.”

We entered through the stark doorway, through a small hall and into a dazzling dining room sparkling with beautiful tables, giant floral displays, elegant chandeliers and smartly dressed staff. “WOW,” I remember thinking. This wasn’t the Waldorf Astoria, but the restaurant was completely different than it appeared from the outside. This episode helped me understand the adage, “You can’t judge a book by its cover.” Great advice for us all, don’t you think?

I got an even deeper understanding of this principle just this past weekend. My husband’s oldest sister, Joann, passed away on New Year’s Eve after a short but aggressive bout with cancer. In the ten years since Joe and I’ve been married, I’d only spent time with Joann twice, and spoken to her on the phone a few times more. She lived eight hours south and we’d both been dealing with sick family members for several years. We were going to visit soon. They were coming up to see us soon. It never happened. And now we were heading to Charleston, South Carolina to put Joann to rest and be with her grieving husband, children and grandchildren.

Based on the time I’d spent with Joann and the stories I’d heard from Joe and other family still in Virginia, I was confident I knew all about her. I was wrong. As many of us do, I’d forgotten she’d continued to grow and change over the years as I had. It hadn’t occurred to me she was more than the wife, mother and school teacher I had spent time with. My memories of Joann held her tight in a specific box in my mind, complete with a few descriptive phrases I remembered when I thought of her. My little box proved woefully inadequate to describe the woman she was in this life. Where had I gone wrong?

I had neglected to see the beautiful Divine spirit that she truly was. I felt this spirit embrace us all as we gathered at the funeral home on Sunday to bid farewell. I saw it in the stunning portrait of Joann that had been painted only days before by her brother-in-law. Her spirit was there in the fragrance of the vibrant flowers as their scent wafted through the room. It was her spirit that shined through the eyes of her beautiful grandchildren, when I saw them laugh and cry.

As I sat through the service, I heard the pain in her son’s eulogy and I knew his great pain came from the great love he had for his mother. Her spirit was there again in the striking poem read by her adult granddaughter and the tearful words of her ten year old grandson. I began to understand the woman she was when, after the service, I saw two young men come to pay their respects to the family.

These two had been best friends since sixth grade when they were in Joann’s Language Arts class. She had truly inspired them and since that time, they had gotten “A’s” in every English class they took. They were now college seniors. Amazing. Two young men – at the end of a holiday weekend – took the time to let her family know how Joann had changed their lives all those years ago.

Back at the house, her husband David reminded me that he and Joann had gone back to college in their late 40’s to get teaching degrees. Joann had been a high school drop out as a kid. In her 20’s she was a mom to five children, then added several step children. Many years later, she got her GED and graduated from college when many people would think it was too late to reinvent themselves. But Joann did.

David also told me Joann had first worked as a teacher in a very poor, rural area of South Carolina where many children were raised by their grandparents. Many of the adults in the area were illiterate. At the first parent-teacher night that first year, Joann was shocked when only two parents in the entire school showed up. So she concocted a plan. She and David went to local grocery stores and got donations, then purchased supplies for a cookout and, on their own, threw a party at school inviting the kids, parents and grandparents. David smiled as he remembered nearly 150 people showed up for the cookout.

“Joann knew the adults were intimidated by the school, but she also knew everyone shows up for free food!” he remembered as his eyes sparkled with the memory. Brilliant. She figured out a way to meet the families and got them involved in school life.

Incredible. And I never knew. I never knew the spirit of this woman who was determined to help children in need and found a way to do just that.

Was Joann a saint? Not at all, as was apparent from the hilarious stories told around the table after the service. I bet you’re not either. I know I’m not.

I am thankful to have been a part of the family gathering to celebrate the life of this special lady. And I’m grateful to be reminded that nothing, and no one, is as they appear from our limited thinking.

Perfection Amid Chaos

I get it. I'm finally able to see Divine Perfection amid chaos. Much of the time at least. Here’s a recent example.

I decided to go to IKEA a mere 48 miles away from home on a Friday afternoon and talked my strong son into coming (someone had to lift those boxes). My plan was simple: drive an hour, grab something to eat, quickly locate what I needed from my list, check out and be back home before afternoon rush hour traffic. I’d have plenty of time to go home, change and attend the visitation of a friend’s dad at the local funeral home that evening. All was good. Or so I thought.

But Life happened. We were late leaving the house, there was a problem with lunch, not all of the items I wanted could be located, and there was a HUGE issue with my intended “speedy” checkout and delivery process. Of course we were late leaving the store, which put us “smack dab” in the middle of the worst rush hour traffic in the country. Great. For a few minutes I was concerned about the snarled traffic and erratic driving style of the adjacent drivers, being late for the funeral visitation and inconveniencing my son. Then I remembered there is Divine Perfection in every moment. And I started to look for it.

Amid the chaos of the grueling traffic, my son and I had a beautiful heartfelt conversation about our life goals and what we wanted for our careers over the next few years. He shared some sensitive and loving insights about his life that touched my heart as I realized (again) what an incredible guy he is.

We had taken a back road thinking we’d miss some of the traffic, but another thousand or so commuters had the same thought, so we continued to crawl along the scenic back roads meandering toward home. We saw sparkling landscapes we’d never noticed when we typically whizzed by at 55 miles per hour. We noticed majestic trees, interesting homes, and fascinating looking people in cars next to us. We listened to music on the radio and sang along to a few familiar tunes. What I had feared would be a nightmare ride, became the best part of the day. I saw the Divine Perfection in it.

I made it home in plenty of time to pay my respects at the funeral home, and my husband and I even managed a late romantic dinner. I realized my experience of the day would have been drastically different if I had allowed anger to take over when my carefully crafted plan had been changed. It’s so energizing when a truth I’ve realized before gets reinforced on an even deeper level.  

The gift of this day was that I was able to understand how Divine Perfection exists in even the most chaotic situations, which results in deeper inner peace for me. Chaos takes many forms. What I perceived as chaos paled in comparison to someone who’s lost a child, had a job termination or other life altering event. Even in those situations, I am convinced there is Divine Perfection. In retrospect, I can see it in the death of my own loved ones and in a devastating divorce.  

OK, God...I get it. You do have this Life thing. I'm going to concentrate on allowing the good to surface in situations instead of micro managing every detail. And I know the greater good is there whether I recognize it or not. I’m trusting in the Divine Perfection of it all.