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Excerpted from Anatomy of the Spirit by Caroline Myss. Copyright 1996 by Caroline Myss. Excerpted by permission of Harmony Books, a division of Random House, Inc.  All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.  HTML and web pages copyright by SpiritSite.com.
 


"This 'presence' escorted this woman through every detail of her life, and I mean every detail."

Caroline Myss, Anatomy of the Spirit, Part 3

Although I had been taught, more or, less, that our spirit goes either "up" or "down" after death, depending upon how. virtuously we have lived, I now saw that our spirit is more than that. it participates in every second of our lives. It is the conscious force that is life itself.

I carried on with my health readings on a sort of automatic pilot, until one day my ambivalence toward my skill was resolved. I was in the middle of a session with a woman who had cancer. The day was hot, and I was tired. The woman and I sat facing each other in my small office at Stillpoint. I had completed her evaluation and was hesitating for a moment before sharing it with her. I dreaded telling her that the cancer had spread throughout her body. I knew she was going to ask me why this catastrophe had happened to her, and I felt irritated by my responsibility of answering her. Sure enough, as I opened my mouth to speak, she reached over, put her hand on my leg, and asked, "Caroline, I know I have a serious cancer. Can't you tell me why this is happening to me?"

My indignation rose to meet the hated question, and I almost snapped, "How would I know?"--when suddenly I was flushed with an energy I had never felt before. It moved through my body, as if it were pushing me aside in order to make use of my vocal cords. I could no longer see the woman in front of me. I felt as if I had been shrunk down to the size of a dime and ordered to "stand watch" from inside my head.

A voice spoke through me to this woman. "Let me walk you back through your life and through each of the relationships of your life," it said. "Let me walk with you through all the fears you've had, and let me show you how those fears controlled you for so long that the energy of life could no longer nurture you."

This "presence" escorted this woman through every detail of her life, and I mean every detail. It recalled the smallest of conversations for her; it recounted moments of great loneliness in which she had wept by herself; it remembered every relationship that had held any meaning for her. This "presence" left the impression that every second of our lives--and every mental, emotional, creative, physical, and even resting activity with which we fill those seconds--is somehow known and recorded.

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