Remembering my Mother, White Eagle and the Rose Star
Today would be my mother’s 72nd birthday. She died from cancer 4 years ago. I have been honouring her today in Ibiza with my daughter. Given the state of the world, I prayed to my mother this evening to ask if there was something meaningful to share. I then experienced a number of synchronistic events which led me to a piece I wrote on New Year's eve 2 years ago. The piece is highly vulnerable and personal. I didn't know who I was writing for, but, I hope you feel like I wrote it for you!
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Mum’s dying process began on 22nd December. She was ready to go to heaven. Right up to the end she really only thought of others. She didn’t want to be ‘a bore’ to us and wanted to be able to ‘die in peace, so that we can have Christmas in peace’. Typically people only live for a small number of days once the dying process begins. For mum it was different, she continued on until 8th January. None of us could understand how she was staying alive. She largely stopped drinking or eating on 22nd December and was on a heroic dose of morpheme but her heart continued to pump despite her readiness to cross over. As the days and nights past, I began to sense that somehow I needed to learn something more from her. That she had one more, final piece of wisdom to share with me. I did not know what it was. This was filling me with anxiety. I began to feel and believe that our spirits were entwined and I needed to receive something more. My lack of knowing left me searching every day in agony at the thought that somehow I was involved in the pain my mother was experiencing through this prolonged death process.
The hours, days and nights, past slowly. I would kiss mum every morning and night on the head and put holy water there in the sign of the cross. I prayed with all my being for the Almighty to be merciful to my mother and show me what I must see. My prayers went unanswered until 7th January, exactly 24 hours before my mother's death. I was sitting next to my mother's bedside when a royal purple book with gold lettering in her bookshelf stood out to me. It had been there along, amidst hundreds of her prayer books. This was Meditation by Grace Cooke, lessons from the sacred teachings of White Eagle. I reached for the book and discovered on its cover a symbol I knew would change my life. I had instant recognition, not from my head but from my heart, that this was the symbol for the new world. It was a symbol for the return to the sacred, to the new humanity in balance with everything. The symbol was The Rose Star. A 6 pointed star, or Merkabah, with the rose inside the centre. It was only later I realised the full extent of the sacred symbolism of this. I saw the Rose Star and immediately knew that this is what mum had been waiting for me to see and that now she would be able to die peacefully. I opened its pages with deep apprehension as I knew the first page would be the first words I would read to mum before she died. I knew before reading anything that it was these words that I must read to mum to guide her passage into the next dimension. I opened the book on a random page and began to read:
‘Man seeks individualism because he seeks self-consciousness, but later he learns that the way to God-consciousness is through the group. You think of yourselves as individuals, as monads, because you are learning expression on the outer plane; but, my brethren, you have yet to learn that you are part of a group. You, the individual, we liken to the proton, and around you circulate the electrons.
You must open your consciousness to this divine cosmic reality. You are nothing. Of yourselves you can do nothing. You cannot live alone. You have many selves, many personalities. You belong to your group, and your group belongs to many other groups, which form a community: and that community belongs to many other communities which form a sphere, and so on and on.
Every man or woman who thinks that he or she is separate and lives with this thought of self-life is living in darkness. Humanity is learning by the hard way this truth of group life, of brotherhood, of co-operation, and expansion of the little consciousness into the God-consciousness. The only way you can realise this is through pure love.
Look up into the heavens and see this truth demonstrated in the myriad stars . . .
I am nothing . . .
Yet I am all, when I recognise all.’
As the truth leapt out at me from the pages I couldn’t deny it. I knew that this was the truth that is the same today, yesterday and tomorrow. I began to read the book out loud to mum. Exactly 24 hours later mum took her last breath while holding my hand. I was guiding her through the experience inviting her to follow the light and to go to Him. I said to her that her time is done, that she had completed everything she was brought here to do. I squeezed her hand and sent her a wave of love through our connection. She took her last breath and let go. I felt a strong presence. Her soul touched us all. Her face began slowly changing to that of a young child, full of innocence. Her dead body began to smile. She looked beyond beautiful and totally at peace.
I continued to hold her hand for 30 minutes, watching her face change, honouring her spirit. I then kissed her hands and her forehead and let go of her hand. At that moment hundreds and hundreds of crows as ravens flew around the house in a spiral. They were having what is called a Parliament above the bedroom, flying in an enormous spiral up to the heavens and crowing at full volume. The sound was overwhelming as hundreds of crows sung to the choirs of heaven.
I knew my mother's spirit was being taken up to source. I felt her there, still with us though. I hugged my brother Sebastian and we cried together. I hugged my step-father Geof. I knew the last 24 hours were some of the most important of my life. I knew that White Eagle was a key holder and that I needed to study his work closely.
I then flew back to San Francisco and the following day was part of the opening of the Nasdaq the next day. It was the highest opening day ever in the history of the Nasdaq. They put a giant picture of my face and former company on the Nasdaq Billboard screen in Time Square. It was surreal beyond words what could happen in 2 days following my mother's death.
I began a deep giving process. I sat at home deep in prayer, with tears streaming down my face. I began to see myself in the 6 pointed star. I realised that this was a three-dimensional object, a Merkabah, Metatron's cube. I realised the star was an ancient space ship. As I stood inside the star and spun it, would create a vortex, an infinite tunnel. The end of the vortex was pure love, a warm white light that I had seen before in transcendent experiences. It was Source. It was me, I was it. I realised mum and White Eagle were continuing to guide me. On the sides of the void was an enormous amount of energy. It was spiralling clockwise. I could spin it either clockwise or anticlockwise and the result would suck energy either out of or into the vortex. I then began seeing billions of faces on the sides of the vortex. They were screaming with pain and anguish. They were being tormented. They concerned me but then I would look ahead and see the pure light and would know that in the end, everything was going to be ok.
These visions continued while I was on my own at home. My thoughts often went to the unborn baby daughter that was in Lea’s tummy. She was with her mum back in Sweden as she wanted to stay in Europe for the funeral. In the end we both decided to go to Davos. Lea was speaking in DLD in Munich and I wanted to join her there to support her. We were reunited in Munich, attended DLD and then spent the week in Davos with a hotel badge. It would be my 9th year in Davos, but I was in a different heart space this time. I was extremely open during this time.
I met many people in Davos and believe my energy was off as a result. It was an important time but on reflection, I should have been sitting Shiva with my family. We left Davos on the afternoon of 22nd January. We were staying with my best friend Eugenie with her children and husband in Holland Park. She cooked an incredible meal for us and we went to bed early feeling normal. At 3am Lea’s birth morning, 23rd January, I bolted up in bed. I knew I needed to be sick immediately. I ran to the bathroom, threw open the loo seat and began to vomit violently. The sick kept on coming. It reminded me of purging during Ayahuasca. My body began to shake profusely as if I was having a fit. I thought I must be going into a breakdown, that the stress of my mother's death had overwhelmed my body. I eventually finished committing and headed back into bed. I was coming on with a high fever — going from hot flushes to cold. Every muscle and joint in my body began to gnaw and ache at me. I fell back asleep fitfully, terrified that I would no longer be fit to deliver the eulogy that I was due to read at my Mother’s funder, 2 days later, on the morning of 25th January.
In the morning, before I could wish happy birthday properly to my wife, my brother, Sebastian, called me. He said in a melancholy tearful voice: ‘Lucian, I have really sad news. Isabella died last night. She had a heart attack in the hospital at 3am and died.’ Isabella was my step-mother. The loving wife to my father for almost 30 years. She had Alzheimer's and my brother and I had been looking after her since our father's death 4 years earlier. It was totally unexpected and took me totally by surprise. Outside of the shock of losing a loved step-parent in such close time to my mother’s death, Isabella’s death also created an enormous tax liability for my brother and I. Somehow, I knew that my sudden illness, vomiting, fitting and fever was a direct reaction to my spirits connection to my father, mother and Isabella’s. I can’t even begin to explain this using words but I know it to be true.
My body continued to be in a shock situation. I cancelled the dinner I had organised for Lea’s birthday that evening. I stayed in bed all day, grieving and praying. The following day, Sebastian and I drive up to Hereford to Belmont Abbey for the funeral the next day. We carried mum’s coffin into the Cathedral where her body rested for the night. The following day we had the most beautiful funeral imaginable. The Abbey was full to the rafters.
Halfway through the service, it was my turn to deliver the eulogy. I walked next to Mum’s coffin, power my head and stepped up to the pulpit and spoke this tribute of a life well-lived:
“Smile a smile,
For while you smile
Another smiles;
Soon there are
Miles and miles of smiles.
And life is worthwhile
If you but smile.
Mum would read this poem to us as children. It reminds me of my mother and the childhood I am so deeply grateful to her for. Mum had a beautiful smile — a window unto her soul.
Thank you for being here today to celebrate with us the wonderful life of my mother, Bridget. Mum planned every touch of this funeral, including her favourite colour — a touch of aqua sky blue. I hope you can feel mum’s spirit here today continue to touch our hearts, making us all smile.
Mum loved Belmont Abbey and the whole community here. She was an Oblate and would come for here for Icon painting and prayer retreats. I remember coming to Belmont and sitting where you sit today every Sunday for many years. After Mass mum would wait for us while we spent our £1 pocket money on 100 carefully selected 1p sweets.
Mum was such an incredibly loving mother to Sebastian, Moya and I and stepmother to Charlie. We remember the picnics, walks, pony shows, carriage driving, Tudor Hound dog shows, holidays in Tillypronie, games, swimming classes, laughing with family. So much love, so much happiness.
Family, friends and faith were most important in life for mum. We were raised with unconditional love in a happy home surrounded by animals. Mum had a special bond with animals. At no point was she not followed loyally by one or more of her four-legged friends — From Amber, Scarlet, Dibble, Jojo, Jake, Cuckoo. She developed a new breed of dog, her beloved Tudor Hounds, by crossing a cavalier and a whippet. She loved her horses, ponies and donkeys. Our animals were extensions of our family — sometimes we wondered who were most important!
Mum saw beauty everywhere. Whether it be people, friends, family, history, art or wildlife. She saw beauty in nature as a reflection of God. She would collect beautiful stones in the shapes of hearts and would sometimes write prayers on them. Mum loved to capture the beauty in nature and people through her camera. She travelled much of the world photographing. For many years she cornered the children photography market with her work for Harpers and Queen. She had a special talent with children.
We will always remember mum’s kindness towards others. If someone in the community was in need mum would always be there. Mum developed cherished friendships from all walks of life. She cared more about your humanity than your stature or social standing. Daughter of a Lord, she married my wonderful step-father Geof, son of a gamekeeper. Mum cared who you are rather than where you came from. Geof and mum spent a beautiful and loving 30 years together. Geof, I want to thank you for being such a wonderful husband to my mother. I will never forget how you would slowly stroke mum’s hair in her last days.
Mum was charitable and generous and supported many communities and foundations. In India, she was much loved by the Anandwan community and Mother Teresa’s nuns where mum supported an orphanage for mentally disabled children. The Smile with Love books you have today was what mum produced to raise money for these children.
For many decades mum volunteered for the Riding for the Disabled and the NSPCC. As a child I used to have to pretend to be my sister Moya’s husband as mum would dress me up as Joseph and Moya as Mary. I would walk around Ross-on-Wye with Moya on the back of Bridie, our donkey, raising money for the NSPCC.
Mum also had a great sense of humour. I remember another occasion with Bridie where mum was walking across the country with her to raise money for NSPCC. When the BBC news interviewed her on April 1st, April Fools Day, about her long walk they asked how mum got Bridie over the walking styles. Mum fooled the country by saying with a dead pan face that she lifted her over them all.
In many ways I learnt the difference between knowledge and wisdom from my mother.
Knowledge sits in the head, in the intellect, it is useful but not sufficient. Wisdom sits in the heart, in the intuition. In this way, wisdom sits with the divine. Mum had wisdom in her heart throughout her life. This wisdom is the truth. The truth that is the same, yesterday, today and forever.
A Catholic convert, mum was a tower of strength and light through her faith. Mum spoke of her faith quietly but lived it loudly. She expressed her faith through her actions. Mum was gentle, compassionate, constant, loving and kindly. Her examples for living were Christ, Our Lady Mary, St Francis of Rome, St Benedict, St Bridget, St Anthony, St Francis of Assisi, St Dominic Savio, St Faustina, St Padre Pio and St Teresa of Calcutta to name a few. Mum had many deeply spiritual and mystical experiences, from the time she felt the Holy Spirit at her confirmation, to her vision of the Passion of Christ, flashes in the sky at Medegojie as Our Lady appeared, to the Icon of Mary and Jesus turning white at my birth. I believe she was deeply blessed.
Mum had simple, humble almost child-like faith. I mean child-like in the most positive way. Child-like faith is the purest form of heart led faith. Seeing the world through the eyes of a child as an adult takes spiritual practice, prayer, dedication and devotion.
Mum demonstrated this child-like faith in her total absence of fear as she battled her cancer. Instead of fear, she only thought of others. What a profound demonstration of faith for us all. I used to joke with mum over the past year that she was contagious. She infected me with her faith. The final three weeks I spent by her side took me home to my childhood faith. And I ask you, what greater gift can a mother leave her children before death than this?
Mum nearly experienced death once before when in 1975 she had a terrible accident falling from her horse. A doctor managed to resuscitate her after her heart had stopped for 6 minutes. She was in a coma and then and mentally ill for many months. Following this, I believe mum lived every day as a gift. She was given a second chance by God and by God did she make the most of it.
Mum, I am honoured to be your son. Thank you for loving us unconditionally. Thank you for showing us the way of the heart. I hope to honour you every day as father to your granddaughter. I love you, Mum.”
