Death is Not the End

“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?” – Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

There is no “winking out” of existence. There is an everlasting essence, the true self, that shifts form when needed, physical to spirit, and back again. – The Nightlight Oracle

Spirit Prompts

After I got up to do the morning traffic, Andy told me he’d walked by the bedroom on his way outside with the dogs and heard something. He said it sounded like I was still in bed, softly snoring. When he came back in with the dogs, he heard the same sound again and stopped to look inside the empty room. Neither dog would enter.

Later, when I was in the room, I heard a sentence — clear as day: “I talk to the dead.”

Then I noticed the book I had started reading was open on the bed. The title: The Dead Have Never Died by Edward C. Randall. Source

I got the message. I’ve since included some of Randall’s insights as I share my own encounters with those who are “deceased but not dead.” One passage stands out: “The body that you see and touch is but the housing, or the garment worn by another body, the etheric or spirit body, which is just as much substance as the flesh, but so refined, intense and so high in vibration that the physical eye cannot see it or the hand feel it.”

In death, the etheric form simply becomes an inhabitant of that higher plane.

Randall also offered an important message about imagination, something we often misunderstand in the physical realm. Referencing a spirit source, he wrote: “You must know there is no such thing as imagination as that word is generally used. Your dictionaries define it as the image making power of the mind; the power to create or reproduce ideally an object previously perceived; the power to call up mental images. There must exist the sun before there can be the shadow. The real must precede the imitation, there must be an original before the copy, the subject before the photograph. One cannot imagine something that has no existence in Nature. The imagination must have something basic.”

“The etheric mental lines or waves of the mind ordinarily move at will in and about the unknown land, and through the sub-conscious brain get impressions and suggestions, usually intangible and indefinite. Such wandering of the mind not being understood, an entirely false conception is obtained of the mental operation.”

When thought is passive, the psychic sense is activated and one can see more than is possible with the physical eye. One can glimpse the mental sphere – thought realm. Etheric forms are fashioned and changed by mental operation alone. Mind informs the present.

Understanding this aspect of our consciousness, this spiritual intelligence, becomes more accessible as we evolve our awareness. As I’ve been inspired to remember: “Quiet mind, open heart.” When we are in harmony with our environment, we are better able to access the higher planes.

Through conversations with my guides, I understand that I’m being urged to present more information about dying, about the need for preparation in the mind, and how important it is to understand that death is simply a transition from one state of being to another.

There is no “winking out” of existence. There is an everlasting essence, the true self, that shifts form when needed, physical to spirit, and back again. [Some non-human entities are also quite proficient at this.] The body is retired, but the essence remains. With awareness and preparation while still in the physical, the transition can be smoother — with less fear, trauma, and confusion.

I asked my guides what would be most helpful to focus on for The Nightlight Oracle, and what might help others expand their awareness, their answer was clear. This guidance — practical and compassionate — is the result. And I have to admit, it resonates because of one undeniable fact: everyone dies. And yet, many still don’t realize that death is a doorway, not an ending.

Signs and Lessons

There are often subtle cues. Smells, for example. One morning, while out for a walk, I noticed a bad scent — sharp and unpleasant. At first, I thought it was coming from Cassie’s collar. Then I thought maybe Andy’s shirt. I smelled again — nothing. We planned to wash the collar. When we got home later, the smell was gone.

That reminded me of another experience, years before my nightlight encounters, when someone who had passed tried to get my attention.

[With my previous husband.]

We had just bought a duplex and, over time, I realized we weren’t alone. A ghost lived there — and he was irritated. Looking back at the signs, I can see he thought we’d invaded his space. He preferred things neat and orderly. I’d get flashes of images — a closet with hangers spaced perfectly apart, clothes arranged just so.

Odd things kept happening. A shelf unit detached from the wall and fell on me — but nothing broke. An antique pickle jar, a family treasure of my husband’s, hit me on the head, then bounced on the floor, and somehow didn’t shatter.

When we went on vacation, a friend cared for our cat. When we returned, it was obvious something had disturbed him — tufts of fur left clumped in one spot on the stairway between the upper and lower floors.

There was the time I came home to find the glass doors on the entertainment center open. Even though I knew no one else had been there, I still called my husband to ask if he’d stopped by. Then came the event that changed everything.

The Breaking Point

At night, things escalated. What I experienced seemed only to bother me. I couldn’t ignore it. One night, after throwing off the covers, I felt something touch my toe and bend it forward — gently but unmistakably. After that, I kept the covers on.

Other nights, or during daytime naps, I’d hear a soft chime — so close it was almost beside the bed. The most troubling experience was waking up choking. At first, I thought it was some odd sleep issue — that I’d forgotten how to breathe. To fix it, I started propping myself up with pillows. That worked… until it didn’t.

Then one night when I woke myself up choking, I realized I was also making a noise, a low, hollow moan. At that point it hit me: that sound wasn’t random. It sounded like… a ghost. That’s when I understood.

Our ghost was trying to use my voice, my body, to communicate.

Finding the Truth

We started asking questions. Why was the property such a bargain? Who had lived there before us? The neighbors knew, but we hadn’t thought to ask. The truth: the previous tenant in our unit had died there. Suicide.

With that knowledge, pieces started falling into place.

Over time, I learned that he didn’t know he was dead. He was still there, stuck and angry. He thought ending his life would release him, but instead, he was trapped.

The Release

For a while, he hovered in the background, following us even through two more home projects. It wasn’t until his frustration deepened that I started to notice odd smells. The odors didn’t last but the scent was unpleasant, indicating decay of some sort, impossible to locate.

When the fish tank inexplicably collapsed, I took it as my cue to finally ask for guidance. That’s when I heard it — a voice, loud and angry, berating me for ignoring him. He needed help crossing over, and I hadn’t understood. I called on my guides and asked him to focus on someone familiar, someone who could come to meet him. Three beings appeared, ready to guide him home.

He left — still angry, still grumbling about my delay — but gone. The beings were kind. I felt the warmth of their energy. One even thanked me. It was a profound learning experience. One I’ve never forgotten.

We get trapped by our beliefs. Reality shifts the moment those beliefs change. And when you feel stuck, when you don’t know how to move forward, the lesson is simple: ask for help.

The challenge and the reason for knowing the dead have not died?

“…their ability to influence “and in some measure control the thought and conduct of every individual.”

“In the afterlife time does not exist, and progress is eternal.” – The Dead have Never Died, Edward C. Randall

The takeaway: If I had understood the level of interference that is possible when the deceased (and others) roam between dimensions, I might have been better able to identify relationship issues that were triggered in the interim.