Daniel's web site

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0><script> (function(i,s,o,g,r,a,m){i['GoogleAnalyticsObject']=r;i[r]=i[r]||function(){ (i[r].q=i[r].q||[]).push(arguments)},i[r].l=1*new Date();a=s.createElement(o), m=s.getElementsByTagName(o)[0];a.async=1;a.src=g;m.parentNode.insertBefore(a,m) })(window,document,'script','//www.google-analytics.com/analytics.js','ga'); ga('create', 'UA-47423994-1', 'fortunecity.ws'); ga('send', 'pageview'); </script> <center> <br> <div> <script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://ad.broadcaststation.net/ads/show_ad.php?width=728&height=90"></script> </div> </center> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=110 BGCOLOR="#999933" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="06900a20ddwnfv.gif"> <div> <B>Daniel's web site</B></div> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=190 BGCOLOR="#CCCC99" TEXT="#080000" background="041bec00esnpes.gif"> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id42.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="About Me"><U><B>About me</B></U></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id43.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="My Hobbies"><U><B>My hobbies</B></U></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id44.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Favorite Links"><U><B>Fave links</B></U></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id46.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Resume"><U><B>My resume</B></U></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="mailto:ganesha@unite.com.au" TARGET="_top" TITLE="mailto:ganesha@unite.com.au"><U><B><IMG SRC="07f2c250.gif" border=0 width="44" height="37" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></B></U></A><FONT SIZE="4" COLOR="#333399" FACE="Script MT Bold" ><A HREF="mailto:ganesha@unite.com.au" TARGET="_top" TITLE="mailto:ganesha@unite.com.au"><U><B>Contact me</B></U></A></FONT></div> </td> <td valign="top" height=370 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <bR> <div> <B>Welcome to the Daniel Kerr web site.</B></div> <bR> <div> Hi to everyone reading this. The main purpose of this site is to get the start of my book out there incase people have a read, its in bits and pieces but i wanted to place it out in the information universe for the pure possibilities, and to expand my limitations. For those who have lost a loved one to cancer, this book is going to be about what it means to be left behind. I hope by telling my story, to chase away the demons inside and inspire others to maybe think differently about death and life. </div> <bR> <bR> <div> My peak experience was no `cosmic connection' or explosive awakening that all of a sudden for little apparent reason just happened. Neither was it a sudden great spiritual leap in my path to enlightenment, No, at this juncture in history there seem too many such `peaks' and not enough subtlety. I ask myself why all significant experiences seem to be about great soul stirring events beyond normal human awareness. I ask why have these experiences never seem to have an element of pain to balance out the joy, don't we truly learn more from these trying times. History records many great changes occuring in the most difficult of times, and often at great cost.</div> <bR> <div>   Mine transformative experience came at a tremendous cost, the loss of my 49 year old mother.</div> <bR> <div> 333333333333333333333333333333</div> <bR> <div> There is a cool breeze blowing.  Though my heart be dark, though the tears meet my cheeks more often than not, though I yearn for reconciliation or wish for things to not be as they are, though my heart be as dark as death - there still, is a cool breeze blowing. There is a ring, a band that tightens around my head as if to strangle all good thought and all my memory of her. I struggle to find the words, my face is heavy.</div> <div> I yearn for the reality of struggle again, that time in the hospital was so real, so much emotion, it was a time when my aim was clear, just to be with her and prey and say everything that came to my head, whether stupid or wise. Do you understand what it means when I say it is I who have died and I who have never lived? This life must be the punishment, the exam time when I cram all sorts of useless knowledge into a pathetically short time and then try to prove at the end I have learnt wisely . And when I   die the test time is over…………. and I will not be coming back.</div> <bR> <bR> <div> Her mind moves in psychedelic waves while her head is motionless. Images appear and transform into meaningless grey shapes. Sounds enter the eardrum that are comforting and honest but are processed by the brain as muffled nonsense, moving within her in nauseating crescendos and decrescendos. But pushing through the haze is a single cell of energy, desperate to make sense of the chaos while the other cells fight desperately to contain the beast. Every fragment of life contained in that miraculous body is under attack, it has gone to its base, survival.</div> <bR> <div> `When your ready….. let go'.</div> <bR> <div> Every part seeks its whole. It is impelled by love towards the Perennial source from where it sprang. </div> <bR> <div> Her spirit, like a snake coiled in anticipation, releases itself from within her, like a Mother holding her child up to the heavens as a gift, it rises, rises. </div> <div> And all that was good and beautiful within her does not die, but is rather dispersed like a light seeking dark corners to fill. At the moment when she no longer thinks of herself as Susan, there is nothingness, not even thought. And yet there is awareness so meaningful, so sublime that is transcends joy and sensation. She joins the strings and ebbs of energy that bind all life, assembling her with subtle forces vast enough as to belittle God itself. </div> <bR> <div> Can you feel the silence here, an agelong quiet, pulsing with the memories of all that she is, and of the tensions that herald things that are soon to be. The synergy of millions of experiences flow within her like the life blood that was. </div> <div> And here - twisting within this miriad of energies and textures she can sense that which was Susan dispersing itself into several dynamic forms. </div> <bR> <div> One such form places itself in the centre of chaos as if waiting in judgement. The memories of her life which are as ghosts here dance and weave playfully around her, until one at a time they move to the centre - and cover her, and as each new memory makes contact it is either discarded like unwanted clothing or accepted into the expanding circle. When the ghosts have gone and met their fate, what it next? What of the rest?</div> <bR> <div> They drove home. That's all Daniel remembered for it was beyond memory. And what was said or how they behaved was irrelevant . All he remembered was tiredness, a yawning unpleasant feeling…… Daniel just needed to sleep. To this day he feels disgusted by how tired he became. There he was on the night of his Mothers death………and he was so tired it was all he could think of. That longing you feel when you're somewhere far from your own bed and its all you can think of. Can you believe that? So Daniel was getting his wish. They drove home, and the world was silenced, as was their hurt. </div> <bR> <div> The car rounded the corner which led them home, the driveway lights as usual beckoned the way a few hundred metres ahead. The house began at the end of the road, almost like a continuation of it. People would often times drive in there and think it a public garden or a scenic thoroughfare, and drive slowly around the large house and follow the stone driveway right around the large block and back out where they came. Once a car followed a side way up the top of the garden where a rough path led it directly towards a small sloping garden bed which plunged down to the real driveway. They stood in the kitchen and watched as a car slowly drove along the path. And without even attempting to stop,  dipped over the edge of the drop and down to the driveway with a terrible grating of the car's underbelly as it scraped along the gardens large boulders. The strangest thing of all was their faces, all that time the family of four did not speak or look sideways at the fruit trees and roses. They just kept staring straight ahead like zombies, even while crashing down that drop and then continuing to drive around the real driveway and out the entrance, still with that collectively stunned expression on their faces. Daniel and his Mum stood at the window for a few minutes not saying a word, what does one say when greeted with insanity driving a Ford Telstar, they finally turned to face each other, their shocked expressions soon turning to grins and delightful laughter as was not seen in that house for many months. And this night was to be the norm, no time for joy and memory, or so Daniel perceived. For as he drove that last stretch towards the house, his attention turned to the entrance of the driveway, which was a large roller gate with it's own tiled roof and garden beds greeting each side of the fence, and a strong light filling the surrounding area with a warm glow. And so it was under this strange but lovely entrance that he saw, or no perhaps not saw but became aware of his Mothers presence, as if she had borrowed some of that light and encased her soul within it and so becoming much more than a feeling of being there, no, she commanded that light and her `joy' rather than her body could be seen, and its love brought tears to Daniel and Jenny's eyes so quickly that not even a word had yet been spoken of it. Daniel slowly continued to drive and turning to Jenny, smiling as she smiled back, and together they drove through the entrance and just as she had encased the light, so too did she fill the spirits of those two she loved so dearly, and there she remained in un-paralleled bliss, for the briefest of times and for eternity.</div> <bR> <div> 777777777777777777777777777777</div> <bR> <div> to my mother, my mother whom I miss so much .</div> <div> There is a cool breeze blowing.  Though my heart be dark, though the tears meet my cheeks more often than not, though I yearn for reconciliation or wish for things to not be as they are, though my heart be as dark as death,there still, is a cool breeze blowing. God there is a ring, a band that tightens around my head as if to strangle all good thought and all my memory of her. I struggle to find the words, my face is heavy.</div> <div> I yearn for the reality of struggle again, that time in the hospital was so real, so much emotion, it was a time when my aim was clear, just to be with her and prey and say everything that came to my head, whether stupid or wise. Do you understand what it means when I say it is I who have died and I who have never lived, this life must be the punishment, the school exam time when I cram all knowledge in a pathetically short time and then try to prove at the end I have learnt . When I die the test time is over and I will not be coming back, I intend to keep learning and remembering all life's lessons that I do not already know.</div> <bR> <div> 66666666666666666666666666666666665</div> <bR> <bR> <div> I was alone that day; everyone was either at work or at the hospital. Jenny had asked me over for a spa as Martin was going but I had declined, I was either playing the martyr by not seeking out any pleasurable pursuits or as normal I just plain didn't like spas, probably a bit of both. . The television was on but I cant remember what was showing or whether it was something I saw that started me crying, all I know is that in a very short time I was unable to stop. Everything up to that point, all the denial crumbled as did my positive outlook. It was at that moment that I was forced to accept the inevitable. 'She is dying Daniel'.  I can't stress enough what a milestone, what an important moment this is, and it happens to everyone going through this, whether it be before or after their loved ones death. There will happen, just as in the beginning of life, a cataclysmic event, a single moment in time that brings form to shadow, the monster taken shape, and truth revealed in all its hideousness. In this moment we release an enormous amount of pent up emotion and energy, it rocks our bodies, leaves us feeling like we just ran the Boston marathon. We sob, we hyperventilate: we scream and thrash: we rage and relent. Its great stuff for the soul, for we cannot forever deny the body of it natural flows. As we build up this catchment of energy, through pushing the pain down, through mentally blocking reactions, and through constantly denying the reality of the situation, our bodies start to suffer, as the energy usually taken to look after us is diverted into this amassing dam. It swirls and batters on us, we look pale, we don't eat, and we get diarrhea and headaches, all the common ways our bodies use to tell us something is needed.  And so when I say we all go through it, it is not an overstatement, for if you are truly attached to that person suffering, you are undoubtedly going through similar things to what I have described, depending on the way your body communicates with you. Well my body was pretty damning of my preoccupation with denial, was sick of diverting resources to the wrong cause and so, with a court injunction, I was denied access to my energies, and they were diverted back to much needed projects. It is as sudden as the cracking finality of a judges hammer, and immediately the punishment is implemented, with horrible results - body hunched over awkwardly, hands over my face pushing with watery palms into my eye sockets trying to stop the flow, the `Saint Francis damn disaster' of the body. And as Frank Black sings of the water seeking her own, so do my tears seek a return to the salt of the earth, its origins. I found myself at this time having difficulty breathing, and even more so difficulty controlling the waves of emotion.  It was truly overwhelming. I was never so scared of my sanity as I was during that outburst. When we store up this energy it becomes useless to us for anything else. Without wanting to sound crude, food is a source of energy for us, we use it once, take what nutrients we can from it and then we remove the waste. Imagine the same thing with our bodies use of energy, and like all men honest enough to admit it, any euphemism pertaining to poo is a good one, and so I dub my outburst as an `energy shit'. All joking aside, despite this being good for the body, it screws around with our brains terribly, we can't see how things are ever going to get better. For me, I was aching to be comforted, but that's a mother's job, and she was not going to be there for me this time: not ever again. That finality was the most common trigger to start me sobbing again, I called out to my Mummy often in that half an hour or so, I reverted back to the child state, and preyed to stay there forever. When I got some composure for a minute I quickly called Jenny and said simply, “Jen, can you come over now, please”. And for once she didn't answer a question with a question! She came right over and took me through the final stages, where my body was exhausted and my mind was surprisingly clear of pretty much everything. A stillness of mind is something to be sought after most definitely. It is something many people tell us. But what I don't read very often is that to lose control can be just as cleansing. And my issue with these experts is that they put across this persona of constant stillness of mind and clarity of thought, and they probably are in that zone most of the time. But I ask you this question, truly how are we to know clarity of mind if we don't sometimes experience chaos, that's what the word balance means, remember that. A guru who radiates peace constantly is not to be trusted, because you can be certain that the energy they are pending up will have to be released one day, and you don't want to be around when it does. Remember the well worn phrase - “But he was such a quiet unassuming man”!!!</div> <bR> <div> 888888888888</div> <bR> <bR> <div> Still the thing that but there was always another part of me that was in control, observing the play of life and it was my comforter, my foundation. I have willed myself to have a strong spirit since I was young, I turned it into a habit. I forged it from its suppleness into steel. </div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> What do I remember of the day? Not a lot actually, I tend to forget things quickly if they are not resurfacing as a constant reminder; my memory is truly a selective creature. It is a keeper of pleasures and a destroyer of negativity. Funny how those sorts of characteristics, which are so vehemently admired in our Gods, are in turn seen as a failing quality amongst people, that is until a crises. I keep very little of that day because I just have not taken myself to task on thinking about it very often. At least not in the sense of breaking the day down into parts ,yes 2-4 pm was my pre-discovery period whilst 12-3 am were the lost hours, lost in despair, lost in hope and lost in the minds version of agony.  </div> <bR> <div> I remember absolutely nothing of the day and neither does Jenny -(we were sitting on the couch during which I said that maybe I could have done more, she said I was the one that was there, she was the one who asked to come in the ambulance with, I had the strength. I was the one who held her hand during crunch time. The others talked about that she waited till she was alone. Didn't want anybody there. The one time I wlasked out of the room said tracey, one went ot the toilet and di spoke to doctor. )</div> <bR> <div> We were asleep when we received the call- “darling its Di, <I><B>its time to come in sweety</B></I>”, “ok well be there soon”, “drive safely ok:, “yeah I will, see you soon”.  I looked at the clock, it was 3 in the morning, I remember feeling guilt at some stage that I was even able to sleep. Jenny was beside me and we quietly got up, got dressed and got in the car. </div> <bR> <div> Saying nothing. </div> <bR> <div> I got a speeding ticket by the way, that made me feel good when I heard about it much later. The drive to the hospital was about 10-15 minutes so it gave me time to deny a little more. Then upon entering the ward and seeing the faces of my family was enough to tell me that it wasn't simply a turn for the worse. The door to her room was closed, preparations were being made apparently, Di said.  I guess it was then that someone actually told me she was dead, I just don't remember. I think after the hugs and seeing If Sophie was all right, I went outside on the verandah and looked across at the park. It striked me as being a beautiful little spot, the fountain, all those chairs scattered around, the exotic mixture of trees, some having lived there for a long time, being cared for and given room to grow.  They had, many of them reached a ripe old age. And everywhere I looked were different shades of green, the colour of life. </div> <bR> <div> Back inside and the blur continues, words are spoken, fragmented, muffled, gruff and choked from speaking through tears. Then someone says something about it being ok to go in. So I grabbed someone's hand, and walked thorough the door of the room my mother no longer occupied. There was a semi circle of people, all holding hands. Jenny came in and then left upon seeing her lying there so still, she ran out crying. I turned and looked at her………..”<I><B>its not her, shes gone</B></I>”.</div> <bR> <div> (explanation about her being there)</div> <bR> <div> My smile had an adverse effect on my nana, “Daniel how can you smile like that, your Mothers dead? “. “Nana im smiling because I can feel her here, shes not really gone”. She looked into my eyes and I guess she saw the conviction of what I was saying in my eyes, even if it probably came out like a bad script from Days of our Lives. I remember because her eyes quickly changed, and being a mother herself she understood things that men don't, because I didn't expect her eyes to soften so suddenly as they did. </div> <bR> <div> *</div> <div> So here's what I do remember vividly - I remember getting the call, I remember them preparing her for `the viewing', I remember the body, though not as much as you would imagine. But do you know what I remember most about the night of my mother's death? I remember feeling that wonderful soul enter my heart, I remember <I>that</I> more than memory, more than mere thought, for I can relive that moment any time I wish. It was the single most important event of my life, and those experiences don't fade with time. And because of that night, I understand that the only thing that really dies IS time, as it never really exists unless your thinking about it, and when you don't its not there anymore, its absence is in symbiosis with the absence of thought. </div> <div>  </div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <IMG SRC="076c1760.gif" border=0 width="193" height="118" ALT="New object <|%%|>" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> <A HREF="http://www.trellix.com/" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://www.trellix.com"><U><IMG SRC="04e52280.gif" border=0 width="82" height="40" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></U></A></div> </td> </tr></table></body>