Psychically Assisted Death

February 2, 2000

In the late nineties I had a woman-seeking page on the Internet. I told about myself on the page and I described the sort of mate I was seeking. It was mostly an experiment to try to find a good match without going through the awkward and inefficient process of dating people with whom I had no compatibility. The page was up for two years or so and generated several interesting correspondences.

One such correspondent was a lady in Miami, Florida. In her second letter to me (Tuesday, February 1, 2000), the lady told me she was caring for her sick mother at home. She said her mother was dying of cancer. She said her mother's mind was gone and it would be a relief when she died.

I wrote her a response the same day (February 1), in which I offered to meditate for her mother's smooth passage into the afterlife. As I proofread my letter I realized the offer was way too far-out and presumptuous, so I deleted that paragraph from the letter. However, around midnight I meditated with the purpose of trying to help the mother make a smooth transition from this dimension into the next. I figured if the mother's mind was gone, she was severely ill, she was a burden on her daughter, and she had terminal cancer, there was no reason not to try to help her die. In a sense it felt like the daughter had reached out to me for help, so I should attempt to help if I could.

The next night (Wednesday, February 2) I received an email from the lady in Miami. She told me her mother had died that morning. She didn't say a time, and I didn't ask.

The news shook me up for awhile. Of course my meditation and the timing of the mother's death could have been a random coincidence, but I felt like my actions had influenced her death. I couldn't help but wonder if my efforts had played a part in the death, and if so, had I done the right thing? I came to the same conclusion I had before meditating. Trying to help the mother die seemed appropriate.

The only other time I had meditated to help someone die had resulted in a similarly coincidental death. I wasn't convinced my actions had directly affected either death, but it did seem possible. Years later I meditated a third time to help someone die, with the same quick outcome. I'll post that account too when I get to it in my journal.


Copyright 2009 Jon Maloney

Assisted Death

Friday January 2, 1998

I had a penfriend in Australia with whom I felt quite close. I had never met her in person, but we had regularly exchanged lengthy letters, photographs, stamps, and small gifts for years. In April 1997 she was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. Her health deteriorated during the rest of 1997. In late 1997 I went to a Hallmark shop and bought about thirty cards for my penfriend. I mailed several cards a week in hopes of helping my friend keep her spirits up. Her partner told me my penfriend loved the cards and became excited when each card arrived.

On December 30, 1997 I received a letter from my penfriend's partner. She said my penfriend had gotten worse and was back in the hospital. She said my penfriend was psychologically and emotionally at peace and ready to die, but that her body was still strong and might continue fighting for quite a while.

Physical death is a tricky business. There are considerations regarding the dying person's state of mind, the readiness of loved ones, the readiness of legal affairs, the possible benefits to the soul of learning from the process, possible karma that is being balanced, and more. For those reasons I am reluctant to interfere in the process. In this case though, all I knew for sure was that my penfriend was suffering terribly, physically, and that if I could do anything to help alleviate that suffering I should.

On Friday night January 2, 1998 I had a long meditation session in which I envisioned a peaceful death for my penfriend. I envisioned helping her make a smooth transition into the afterlife. I appealed to my alternate spirit selves, the cluster consisting of all my present and past pesonalities. (See Monroe, Robert. Ultimate Journey New York: Doubleday, 1994.) My penfriend died on Sunday, Australian time, about 31 hours after I completed my meditation. She had been ill for eight months and had been hospitalized for about two weeks.

I logged these events into my psychic journal for the record, but I was not convinced my efforts had played any part in helping my penfriend die. It was clear she was going to die soon. The only uncertainty was when.

I changed my mind about this event years later though, when twice more I meditated to help people die, and both times the people died very soon after my meditation. I figured one time could just be coincidence, but three out of three seemed to imply a cause-and-effect relationship.


Copyright 2009 Jon Maloney