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The Light Between Us: Stories from Heaven. Lessons for the Living. Paperback – July 5, 2016
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Laura Lynne Jackson is a wife, a mother, a high school English teacher—and a psychic medium. Where most believe an impenetrable wall divides the world between the living and the dead, Jackson sees brilliant cords of light. She has dedicated her life to exploring our connection to the Other Side, conversing with departed loved ones, and helping people come to terms with loss. In The Light Between Us, she writes with clarity and grace, addressing the eternal questions that vex us all: Why are we here? What happens when we die? How do we find our true path in this life? Laura Lynne Jackson’s story offers a new understanding of the vast reach of our consciousness and enlarges our view of the human experience.
Praise for The Light Between Us
“A brilliant milestone marking our passage toward comprehending the deeper truths of our existence.”—Eben Alexander, M.D., author of Proof of Heaven and The Map of Heaven
“I read The Light Between Us with great joy, savoring the wonderful stories and messages of hope. It is a book filled with wisdom and love, exploring the deep bonds that keep us eternally connected to our soul mates.”—Brian L. Weiss, M.D., author of Many Lives, Many Masters
“A spiritual game-changer . . . For those suffering a terrible loss, you will find peace and comfort in her story. For those who question the afterlife, you will become a believer.”—Laura Schroff, co-author of An Invisible Thread
“Straightforward, unassuming, and profoundly generous . . . Brave, honest, and beautiful, this book is a treasure.”—Mark Epstein, M.D., author of Going to Pieces Without Falling Apart
“One of the most insightful and inspiring books about mediumship I have ever read.”—Gary E. Schwartz, author of The Afterlife Experiments and The Sacred Promise
- Print length288 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherThe Dial Press
- Publication dateJuly 5, 2016
- Dimensions5.18 x 0.59 x 7.99 inches
- ISBN-100812987926
- ISBN-13978-0812987928
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Editorial Reviews
Review
“This book will help countless people to heal grief, to let go of the fear of death and dying, and to better understand the spiritual realm. I read The Light Between Us with great joy, savoring the wonderful stories and messages of hope. It is a book filled with wisdom and love, exploring the deep bonds that keep us eternally connected to our soul mates. It is a book I highly recommend to all.”—Brian L. Weiss, M.D., author of Many Lives, Many Masters
“Compelling, riveting, and a spiritual game-changer . . . For those suffering a terrible loss, you will find peace and comfort in her story. For those who question the afterlife, you will become a believer.”—Laura Schroff, co-author of An Invisible Thread
“Straightforward, unassuming, and profoundly generous . . . The remarkable thing about this book is Jackson’s ability to turn her extraordinary gifts into a gift for us all. Brave, honest, and beautiful, this book is a treasure.”—Mark Epstein, M.D., author of Going to Pieces Without Falling Apart
“One of the most insightful and inspiring books about mediumship I have ever read . . . destined to become a classic.”—Gary E. Schwartz, author of The Afterlife Experiments and The Sacred Promise
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Pop Pop
On a sunny Wednesday afternoon in August, when I was eleven years old, my sister, my brother, and I were splashing around in the three-foot-deep aboveground swimming pool in the backyard of our home on Long Island. There were only a handful of days left before the start of school, and we were trying to squeeze every last ounce of fun out of the summer. My mother came out to say she was going to see our grandparents in their home in Roslyn, about a fifty-minute drive away. For years I’d gone with her on trips to see my grandparents, and I’d always loved going. But as I got older other activities got in the way, so sometimes my mother would go by herself and leave us behind. On this beautiful summer day she knew she had no hope of getting any of us out of the pool.
“You kids have fun,” she called out to us. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” And that should have been that.
But then, all of a sudden, I panicked.
I felt it deep in my bones. Sheer, inexplicable, ice-cold panic. I shot straight up in the pool and screamed out to my mother.
“Wait!” I yelled. “I have to come with you!”
My mother laughed. “It’s okay, stay,” she said. “Enjoy yourself, it’s a beautiful day.”
But I was already paddling furiously to the edge of the pool, my brother and sister watching and wondering what was wrong with me.
“No!” I hollered. “I want to come with you! Please, please wait for me.”
“Laura, it’s okay. . . .”
“No, Mom, I have to come with you!”
My mother stopped laughing. “All right, calm down,” she said. “Come inside, get changed, I’ll wait.”
I ran inside dripping wet, threw on some clothes, dashed back out, and got in the car still half drenched, still utterly panicked. One hour later we pulled into my grandparents’ driveway, and I saw my grandfather—whom I called Pop Pop—waving at us from the back porch. Only then, when I got to see him and hug him, did the panic subside. I spent the next few hours on the porch with Pop Pop, talking, laughing, singing, and telling jokes. When it was time to go I gave him a kiss and a hug and I told him, “I love you.”
I never saw him alive again.
I didn’t know Pop Pop had been feeling weak and tired. The grown-ups would never tell me something like that. When I was with him that day he was his usual self—warm, funny, playful. He must have summoned all his strength to appear healthy to me. Three days after my visit, Pop Pop went to see his doctor. The doctor gave him the devastating news that he had leukemia.
Three weeks later, Pop Pop was gone.
When my mother sat my sister, my brother, and me on the couch and gently told us Pop Pop had passed, I felt a blitz of emotions. Shock. Confusion. Disbelief. Anger. Profound sadness. A deep, dreadful feeling of already missing him.
Worst of all, I felt a terrible, shattering sense of guilt.
The instant I learned my grandfather was gone, I understood precisely why I’d been in such a panic to see him. I had known he was going to die.
Of course, I couldn’t have really known. I didn’t even know he was sick. And yet, somehow, I did know it. Why else would I have demanded to see him?
But if I did know it, why hadn’t I articulated it—to Pop Pop, to my mother, or even to myself? I hadn’t had a clear thought or even an inkling that anything was wrong with my grandfather, and I hadn’t gone to visit him with any kind of understanding that it would be the last time I’d see him. All I had was a mysterious sense of knowing. I didn’t understand it at all, but it made me feel horribly uncomfortable, as if I were somehow complicit in Pop Pop’s passing. I felt like I had some connection to the cruel forces that had claimed his life, and that made me feel unimaginably guilty.
I started to think something must be seriously wrong with me. I’d never encountered anyone who could sense when someone was going to die, and now that it had happened to me, I couldn’t even begin to understand it. All I understood was that it was a horrible thing to know. I became convinced I wasn’t normal; I was cursed.
One week later, I had a dream.
In the dream I was all grown up and I was an actress. I was living in Australia. I was wearing a long, colorful, nineteenth-century dress, and I felt beautiful. All of a sudden I felt a staggering concern for my family—the same family I had in real life. In the dream I felt my chest seize and I collapsed to the floor. I was aware I was dying.
Yet I didn’t wake up—the dream kept going. I felt myself leave my physical body and become a free-floating consciousness, capable of observing everything around me. I saw my family gathered together around my body in the room where I’d fallen, all of them weeping. I was so upset to see them in such pain that I tried to call out to them. “Don’t worry, I am alive! Death doesn’t exist!” I said. But it was no use, because I didn’t have a voice anymore—they just couldn’t hear me. All I could do was project my thoughts to them. And then I began to drift away from them, like a helium balloon that someone let go of, and I floated way, way above them, into a darkness—a dense, peaceful darkness with beautiful, twinkling lights all around. I felt a strong feeling of calm and contentment wash over me.
And precisely at that moment, I saw an incredible sight.
I saw Pop Pop.
He was there, in the space just ahead of me, though not in his physical body but rather in spirit—a spirit that was beautifully, undeniably, entirely his. My consciousness instantly recognized his consciousness. He was a point of light, like a bright star in the dark night sky, but the light was powerful and magnetic, drawing me toward it, filling me with love. It was as if I was seeing Pop Pop’s true self—not his earthly body, but rather this greater, inner light that was truly him. I was seeing his soul energy. I understood that Pop Pop was safe, and that he was in a beautiful place filled with love. I understood he was home, and in that instant I also understood that this was the place that we all come from, the place we all belong. He had returned to the place he’d come from.
Realizing that this was Pop Pop and that he still existed in some way, I felt less sad. I felt great love, great comfort, and, in that moment of recognition, great happiness. And just before I was drawn all the way home with Pop Pop, I felt something closing around me and pulling me back.
Then I woke up.
I sat up in bed. My face was wet. I was crying. But I wasn’t sad. These were tears of joy. I was crying because I’d gotten to see Pop Pop!
I lay in bed and cried for a long time. I had been shown that dying doesn’t mean losing the people we love. I knew that Pop Pop was still present in my life. I was so thankful for my dream.
It was only years later—many years—that I gathered enough experience to understand what Pop Pop’s passing and the events surrounding it signified in my life.
What I had sensed in that swimming pool was the beginning of the voyage of Pop Pop’s soul to some other place. Because I loved him so much—because I was connected to him in such a powerful way—my soul could sense that his soul was about to go on a journey. And sensing that wasn’t a curse at all. It allowed me to spend that one, last magical afternoon with Pop Pop. If that wasn’t a gift, what is?
And the dream?
The dream convinced me of one thing—that Pop Pop wasn’t gone. He was just someplace else. But where? Where, exactly, was he?
I couldn’t answer that when I was eleven. But over time, I came to realize Pop Pop was on the Other Side
What do I mean by the Other Side?
I have this simple analogy to explain it. Think of your body as a car—new at first, then older, then really old. What happens to cars when they get really old? They get discarded.
But we, the humans, are not discarded with the cars. We move on. We keep going. We are greater than the car, and we were never defined by the car. We are defined by what we take with us once we leave the car behind. We outlast the car.
Everything in my experience tells me that we outlast our bodies. We move on. We keep going. We are bigger than our bodies. What defines us is what we take with us once we leave our bodies behind—our joys, our dreams, our loves, our consciousness.
We are not bodies with souls.
We are souls with bodies.
Our souls endure. Our consciousness endures. The energy that powers us endures. The Other Side, then, is the place our souls go when our bodies give out.
That raises a lot of questions. Is the Other Side a place? Is it a sphere? A realm? Is it material or spiritual? Is it a way station or a final destination? What does it look like? How does it feel? Is it full of golden clouds and pearly gates? Are there angels? Is God there? Is the Other Side heaven?
I came by my understanding of the Other Side slowly, and even today I’m sure I know only a small part of what there is to know about it. But we don’t need to fully envision or understand the Other Side in order to take great comfort from it. In fact, so many of us already believe our loved ones who’ve passed are still with us—in spirit, in our hearts, called back into our lives through memories. And that belief is endlessly nourishing.
The reality of what happens when our loved ones pass on, however, is infinitely more comforting than most people realize, because these departed souls are much closer than we think.
Here are the first two truths I learned through my gift:
1.Our souls endure and return to a place we call the Other Side, and
2.The Other Side is really very close.
How close? Try this—take an ordinary sheet of paper in your hand. Now hold it up in front of you, as if you’re reading from it. Notice how that sheet of paper becomes a border that neatly divides the space it inhabits. It may be sheer and flimsy, a few tiny pulp fibers strung together, but it’s still inarguably a border. In fact, as a border, it divides a great amount of molecules, atoms, and subatomic particles. When you hold it up in front of you, you and billions of things are on one side, and billions of other things—chairs and windows and cars and people and parks and mountains and oceans—are on the other.
And yet, from your side of the paper, you can see and hear and access the other side quite easily—in fact, some of your fingers are already there, holding the paper. The sides may be separate, but, practically speaking, they are one and the same. The other side of the paper is right there.
As you come across the term “Other Side” in this book keep that sheet of paper in mind. Ask yourself, What if the border between our earthly life and an afterlife is as thin and permeable as a single piece of paper?
What if the Other Side is right there?
2
The Girl in the Grocery Store
Long before the swimming pool incident, I was a strange little kid.
I was hyperactive and volatile. I had extreme reactions to ordinary things. “When Laura is happy, she is happier than any child I’ve ever seen,” my mother wrote in my baby book when I was one year old. “But when she’s sad, she is sadder than any child could ever be.”
Plenty of children are fidgety and energetic, but I had a motor inside me that was constantly churning, and I had no way to shut it off. My first week of first grade, my mother got a call from the school nurse.
“I’ll give you the good news first,” the nurse said. “We were able to stop the bleeding.”
I’d run into a ladder on the playground, cutting a bloody gash in my forehead. My mother took me to the doctor, who gave me seven stitches.
A week later I threw a nasty tantrum in my bedroom because my sister had been invited to a neighbor’s pool and I wasn’t. I knocked over the heavy, wooden bunk-bed ladder and it hit me on the back of the head. My mother took me back to the doctor, who gave me three more stitches and sat my mother down and asked her a lot of tough questions.
I was a tiny thing, undersized and stick-thin, a little blond moppet with bangs, but I could be a terror. My mother had to pin me down by an arm or a leg to get me dressed. If she let go of me for a second, I’d be gone. I constantly walked into things—doors, walls, mailboxes, parked cars. My mother would take her eyes off of me for a moment and the next thing she’d hear was a crash or a bonk. At first she’d hug me and comfort me, but after a while it became, “Oh, Laura Lynne walked into a wall again.”
I’d get upset at my older sister, Christine, and I’d stomp my feet and put my head down and charge at her like a bull. Either I’d crash into her and knock her over, or she’d jump out of the way and I’d go flying.
“Go to your room,” my mother would say to me, “and don’t come out until you can be human again.”
The worst punishment of all, though, was being told to sit still.
After I’d been particularly bad my mother would make me sit in a chair and not move. Not for an hour, or even ten minutes—my mother knew better than that. My punishment was to sit still for one minute.
And even that was way too long. I never made it.
We think of ourselves as solid, stable, physical beings. But we’re not.
Product details
- Publisher : The Dial Press; Reprint edition (July 5, 2016)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 288 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0812987926
- ISBN-13 : 978-0812987928
- Item Weight : 7.4 ounces
- Dimensions : 5.18 x 0.59 x 7.99 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #4,356 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #12 in Parapsychology (Books)
- #28 in Mental & Spiritual Healing
- #179 in Personal Transformation Self-Help
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
Laura Lynne Jackson is a high school English teacher and psychic medium who has been certified by the Windbridge Institute for Applied Research in Human Potential and the Forever Family Foundation. She lives on Long Island with her husband and their three children. This is her first book.
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However, the urge to help others with her psychic abilities prevailed, and as she continued to do so, she realized that she could communicate with her clients' departed loved ones in the afterlife, or the Other Side, as Jackson refers to it. She learns that we are all connected to our loved ones through powerful, unbreakable cords of light, and that those on the Other Side remain by our sides, doing what they can to love us and guide us through our lives. Slowly, she gains confidence in her gifts, realizing her powers to help the bereaved, often paying special attention to parents who live with the pain of having lost a child. She is tested by scientists, who determine that her abilities are real. All of this goes on in secret from the faculty and students at the high school where she teaches, in fear that her work as a medium would be at the cost of her much-loved teaching position. When her secret finally comes out, she is met by her colleagues and students with acceptance and love.
This book is excellent and worthy of five stars for many reasons: First, Jackson's writing style is clear and concise. The author studied at Oxford and has a degree in English Lit, and is a high school teacher, so basically...this is someone who really, really knows how to communicate in a way that is attention-grabbing and easy to understand, without dumbing anything down. Second, every reading that she recounts has the potential to resonate personally with the reader. If you've ever wondered where your loved ones are after they pass, if they are well, if they are watching you and sending love, and if they feel the love that you send out to them, this is by all means the book for you. Additionally, and very importantly, the author puts a face on a mystical and oft-misunderstood subject that is easy for just about anyone to relate to. This is not surprising, coming from someone who has tapped into the collective consciousness to such a high degree. Many people claim to be psychic, but Laura Lynne Jackson is one who is the real thing, backing up her abilities with proven science. Best of all, she believes (and I agree) that we all have a little bit of psychic in us - we just have to be open to it! She offers a few tips, and the first time that I asked for a sign from the Other Side, I got one within hours. This book affirms everything that I have come to believe over the years about life and death.
In a world that currently seems very harsh and bleak on the surface, The Light Between Us will bring the reader a feeling of great hope for humanity. Knowing that there is a place of love and light, full of our loved ones who are rooting for us to be our truest and best possible selves is a great comfort indeed. There are lessons in here for both the believer and the skeptic. Read it, and your very consciousness just might make a change for the much better.
I was told many years ago I was a very old soul when I went to Arizona to a house with many psychics. When I walked in the women who greeted me screamed and asked all the other psychics to come. They said my aura was amazing, I still have the photo, with white all around, purple and a few other colors. They wouldn’t even charge me and told me to work on developing my gifts, which I didn’t pursue. After reading your book I would really like to because I understand more about myself and things that have happened. I hope I can find where to learn more. Again thank you
This book made me want to reach out to the author for a reading and I can only imagine she has received many reading requests after this book was published.
I would recommend this book to anyone who is in need of a world rocking change and especially someone who is struggling with a loss in their family.
My only critique would be that for me personally, there were too many individual stories and by the end they bored me a little bit.
Pick up this book.
Enjoy every word reminding you how deeply connected we are.
Share this book with others.
Let's remember the gifts we are as spiritual beings having a human experience.
Top reviews from other countries
I think he led me to this book from the other side because he saw me grieving. He taught me so much when he was alive and he continues to teach me through his "absence". He gives me signs, some that I asked for, some that I didn't specifically ask for. I think he is a a guide that came into my life as a hamster, because the way we communicated (he understood words and phrases, we were often telepathic, he seemed very evolved, etc.) was impressive.
This book gave so much insight about the other world (that I always felt real), and signs of eternal connections. I am very thankful for it.
I picked the book because of the great reviews from world renowned spiritual masters and the fact that it was published by Penguin, which normally publishes only accredited authors. I was gratified to discover an authentic, moving and instructive autobiography that speaks of the author's lows as well as highs and the fact that she submitted her abilities to scientific enquiries time and again in order to bring her gift into the mainstream of spirituality -- as well as to ascertain for herself that what she has is the true blue thing.
There are many lessons in this book that any reader could incorporate in his/her life -- such as the importance of forgiveness, of living true to oneself, of the fact that all creation is fundamentally connected....and many more all of which I thank the author for...they were very useful to me.
Laura writes truthfully and modestly never pretending to be anything more or less than what she is...and she writes honestly about her feelings which are all-important in a book of this nature.
As a Nichiren Buddhist for the last 25 years, someone who's incidentally based in Mumbai, India, I share with Laura the feeling that when one changes one's perception (or inner reality, as we like to call it) the world changes for us. Here, if I may add, I've worked hard at it for the last quarter of a century, chanting and cleaning up my darknesses and weaknesses, trying to improve my behaviour and trying to help other people in ways best suited to my attitudes, inclinations and abilities. Luckily I've had a Japanese mentor, the late Daisaku Ikeda, for the last 25 years to direct me as a beacon and guiding light. Not everyone is as lucky to be naturally spiritually gifted as Laura is but, as the author indicates, we all have our unique missions in life to fulfil.
Thank you for this book. It gave me several days of reading pleasure. :-) 😃
An excellent read!