Signs: The Secret Language of the Universe

by Laura Lynne Jackson

Each of our lives matters greatly. We are forever connected to one another, and to the light and love and energy of the universe.

In Islam, a belief in angels who are made out of light and function as Allah’s messengers is one of the six pillars of the faith.

We are connected to God energy. We are connected to the angelic realm and to our spirit guides on the Other Side.

…even out of unspeakable grief, beautiful things take wing. —A. R. TORRES, “The Lessons of Loss”

An imam presided over the service. In his speech, he talked about the Islamic view of the afterlife, and compared it to a cone. If you had made many connections and brought light to many lives, in the afterlife you would be at the top of the cone, where the most light reaches.

Death ends a life, not a relationship. —MITCH ALBOM, Tuesdays with Morrie

Dream visitations are a very real thing. As I’ve said, I believe we all have the capacity to experience the nonphysical, spiritual energy of souls that have crossed.

We are often hopelessly locked in the brain’s frontal lobe, the control panel that handles our language and math skills and our analytical thinking—in short, all our cognitive skills. Except, that is, when we’re sleeping.

When we sleep, our brains go offline. We drift away from consciousness. The noise and the static quiet. Our brains shift in and out of the frontal lobe. We enter into something called slow-wave sleep, and beyond that, REM sleep—the deepest level of sleep, the state in which we dream. Ironically, our brains are nearly as active during REM sleep as they are during waking life, with remarkable bursts of electrical activity.

Intuition is one of the great gifts we have as human beings. But it only works if we heed it. When we begin to look at intuitive pulls as evidence of our connection to a higher source of power, and we begin to honor them in a way that leads us to better decisions, we find our higher paths and attain more fulfilling happiness.

Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die. —MARY ELIZABETH FRYE

“We feel called to something bigger in our lives. We might not know exactly what that is, but we can feel it in our bones.”

This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet. —RUMI