Drawing on Edgar Cayce's channeled readings, this content reveals ten messages from the deceased, emphasizing that death is a transition, not an end, and that love and learning are the only eternal aspects of existence, urging the living to prioritize these over earthly achievements.
Mind Map
Click to expand
Click to explore the full interactive mind map • Zoom, pan, and navigate
10 Things the Dead want you to know.
According to Edgar Casey, what if those
you've lost could send you just one
message? Not through a medium, not
through a dream you half remember, but a
clear, undeniable transmission from the
other side of the veil. What would they
say? For over 40 years, a man named
Edgar Casey became something
extraordinary. Not a spiritualist, not a
charlatan, performing seances in
darkened rooms. He was something far
more mysterious, a bridge between
worlds. In a deep trance state, eyes
closed, voice distant. He delivered over
14,000 readings. And in those readings,
a pattern emerged. The dead were
speaking, not in riddles, not in
warnings designed to frighten or
manipulate. They spoke in reassurances, incorrections,
incorrections,
in urgent, compassionate truths meant to
change how you live and how you grieve.
These weren't abstract platitudes about
eternal rest or pearly gates. These were
specific, detailed accounts of what
happens after the final breath, where
consciousness goes, what the departed
experience, and most importantly, what
they desperately want you to know while
you're still here. Because here's what
Casey discovered. Everything you fear
about death might be exactly backwards.
The darkness you imagine, they say it's
light. The silence you dread. They
describe it as communion. The ending you
mourn. They call it a beginning. This
isn't about comforting lies. This is
about accurate information from the
other side. Information that changes
everything. How you love, how you
forgive, how you spend your remaining
days on earth. 10 messages, 10 truths.
The departed wish they could whisper in
your ear. 10 corrections to the story
your grief has been telling you. And the
first thing they want you to know might
be the hardest to accept. Edgar Casey
didn't set out to become a telephone
line between worlds. He was a
photographer in Kentucky, a Sunday
school teacher, a man with a strange
gift he didn't fully understand. the
ability to enter a self-induced trance
and access information that shouldn't
have been accessible, medical diagnosis
for people he'd never met, historical
details about civilizations long
forgotten, and eventually testimony from
those who had crossed the threshold of
death. But Casey never channeled
individual spirits the way mediums claim
to. He didn't conjure the ghost of your
grandmother or produce ectoplasm in
dimly lit parlors. His gift was
different, more vast. He accessed what
he called the aosic records. A kind of
cosmic library where every soul's
journey is written, every life, every
death, every lesson learned and lesson
missed. When people came to him asking
about deceased loved ones, Casey would
lie down, close his eyes, and enter that
deep trance. His voice would change,
become measured, formal, oddly distant,
and he would describe where that soul
was now, what state of consciousness
they occupied, what they were learning,
what messages they wished to send back.
What made it credible wasn't
showmanship. It was specificity. He
would provide details, names, dates,
descriptions of events that he couldn't
have known, details that were later
verified. He did this thousands of
times, never seeking publicity, never
exploiting grief for profit. He simply
reported what he saw. And across those
thousands of readings, a cosmology
emerged. A consistent detailed map of
the afterlife. Not heaven and hell in
the traditional sense, but plains of consciousness.
consciousness.
Levels of learning, a continuation of
the soul's education in a different
classroom. Most importantly, he
discovered something unexpected. The
dead were remarkably consistent in what
they wished they'd known while alive.
The same themes appeared again and
again. The same regrets, the same
revelations, the same urgent desire to
correct the misunderstandings of those
still in physical form. Nothing they
revealed was meant to induce guilt.
Everything was offered with compassion,
with the clarity that comes from seeing
the larger design, with the hope that
you, still alive, still choosing, still
growing, might hear what they couldn't
while they walked the earth. 10 truths
emerged from those thousands of
conversations. 10 messages that the
departed, freed from the illusions of
physical existence, wanted desperately
to communicate. And the first one
challenges everything your grief has
been telling you. The first message is
the most urgent, the most misunderstood,
the one that if you could truly absorb
it, would transform your grief from a
wound into a doorway. They want you to
know we haven't left. We've only changed
location. In Casey's readings, the
deceased described death not as
cessation, but as relocation, like
moving to another country while staying
in touch, like graduating to another
school while remaining part of the same
soul family. The relationship hasn't
ended. It's transformed. They are not
gone. They are not in some unreachable
void. They are not sleeping in the
ground, consciousness extinguished like
a candle flame. They are aware, present,
closer than you imagine. The veil
between worlds, Casey explained, is
thin, translucent, permeable. They
attend significant moments in your life,
not as ghosts haunting the halls, but as
loving presences bearing witness, your
wedding, the birth of your child, the
moment you finally overcome the fear
they watched you struggle with. They are
there, not always. They have their own
journey, their own curriculum in the
afterlife, but they remain connected to
you in ways that transcend physical
proximity. So why can't you feel them?
Not because they're absent, but because
you're not attuned. Like a radio dial
sitting between stations, catching only
static. The signal is broadcasting.
You're simply not tuned to the right
frequency. Casey's readings provided
evidence of this. Deceased individuals
accurately describing events happening
in the lives of their loved ones after
they had died. A father knowing his
daughter. Changed careers. A wife aware
that her husband had finally forgiven
himself. Details they couldn't have
known unless consciousness truly
persists and remains connected. Here's
the reframe your grief needs. Your
aching isn't their absence. It's your
adjustment to a new form of
relationship. You're learning a new
language together. One without words or
touch. One made of signs and
synchronicities and sudden memories that
arrive at exactly the right moment. One
made of dreams that feel different from
regular dreams. Clearer, more vivid,
leaving you with a sense of visitation
rather than imagination. They haven't
abandoned you. You're simply learning
how to hear them in a different
frequency. This is the labor of grief.
Not the pain of permanent separation,
but the work of birthing a new kind of
love. One that transcends physical
presence. One that operates in
dimensions beyond the five senses. They
want you to know the love didn't die.
It's more alive than ever. You're just
learning how to feel it without a body
to hold. But here's what surprised Casey
about what the departed communicate
next. They don't want your grief. They
want something else entirely. This is
the difficult truth. The one that might
make you defensive. The one you need to
hear with compassion, not guilt.
Excessive, inconsolable grief. The kind
that becomes identity. That refuses
comfort. that clings to sorrow as a way
of proving love creates an energetic
tether, a chain that binds the departed
to earthly vibrations when they need to
ascend. Casey explained it as a kind of
physics, not theology, not judgment,
physics. Emotional energy is real. It
has weight. It has frequency. and
concentrated sorrow when it becomes
chronic and all-consuming creates drag
on the soul trying to move into higher
plains of learning. The dead must
lighten to ascend. They must release the
dense vibrations of physical existence.
Fear, anger, attachment to access the
finer frequencies of the spiritual
dimensions. But intense grief from those
they love pulls them back like gravity.
They experience your grief not as anger
or resentment. They understand it. They
honor the love it represents. But they
feel a longing, a wish that you could
release them so they can progress. So
you can progress. Because this tether
binds you both. The more you cling, the
more you delay both your healing and
their evolution. This isn't about
denying your grief. Initial grief is
natural, necessary, sacred. It's the
holy expression of love meeting loss.
Cry, rage, ache, honor what was. The
departed don't ask you to skip this.
What becomes problematic is prolonged
identification with grief. When months
become years and years become decades
and your identity becomes the person
whose mother, child, spouse died. When
you build an altar to sorrow and tend it
daily. When you refuse all comfort
because releasing the pain feels like
betraying the love, that's when the
tether tightens. Here's what they want
instead. Remembrance with joy, not
sorrow. Celebration of the love, not
fixation on the loss. They want you to
tell stories about them and laugh. To
see their photo and smile instead of
weep. to honor their birthday not with
flowers on a grave, but with living in a
way that embodies what they taught you.
They're not asking you to stop loving
them. They're asking you to love them
differently. In Casey's readings, souls
in the afterlife often express this
gently with infinite patience. They
understood why you grieve, but they also
saw what you couldn't, that your sorrow
was creating suffering for both of you.
Here's the practice they're asking for.
When you feel overwhelming grief rising,
pause. Ask yourself, am I honoring them
right now or holding them hostage? Are
you remembering them or are you refusing
to let them go? There's a profound
difference. One is love. The other is
fear disguised as love. And they can
feel the difference from where they are.
So, what are they doing while you mourn?
something that will change how you see
death forever. Death is not rest. Death
is not stasis. Death is not lying in
peaceful slumber in some celestial
waiting room until you arrive. Death is
the continuation of learning in a
different classroom. This was one of
Casey's most consistent revelations. The
afterlife is active, purposeful,
structured. The deceased don't simply
bask in eternal light. They attend what
Casey called schools. They work with
guides and teachers. They review the
lessons of the life just lived. They
prepare for the next steps in their
soul's evolution. The structure isn't
arbitrary. Souls gravitate toward plains
of existence that match their level of
consciousness, not as punishment or
reward, but as natural law, like water
finding its level. Higher consciousness
occupies higher plains. Dense
consciousness remains in denser realms
until it's ready to ascend. Think of it
not as heaven and hell, but as
universities of the soul. Kindergarten
through graduate school. Each soul
learns at the level they're ready for.
What are they learning? How to love more
purely? How to understand the patterns
they missed in life? How to forgive
themselves and others? how to release
the illusions that kept them small. How
to expand their capacity for compassion,
wisdom, service. They're studying the
life they just lived with total honesty,
seeing where they succeeded and where
they fell short, not with shame, but
with the curiosity of a student
reviewing a test to understand the
mistakes. And they're preparing. Some
are preparing to reincarnate, to return
to physical form with new lessons to
learn. Others are preparing to ascend,
to graduate into higher service,
becoming guides and teachers for other
souls. Why does this matter to you?
Because they're not waiting in some
static paradise for you to join them.
They're growing, evolving, becoming more
of who they truly are. Your loved one
isn't lonely. They're not bored. They're
not sitting in a cloud wishing they
could come back. They're engaged,
purposeful, often more fulfilled than
they were in physical life because now
they can see the meaning in everything.
Casey described specific activities.
Deceased souls counseling other newly
arrived souls, helping them adjust to
the afterlife, serving as guides for
those still on Earth who are open to
their influence, attending halls of
learning where higher teachings are
transmitted, planning their next
incarnation with care and intention,
choosing the exact circumstances that
will provide the lessons they need. This
isn't wishful thinking. This was
reported consistently across thousands
of readings. Different souls, different
circumstances, same cosmology. But
here's what will surprise you most.
There's one thing they're doing that
directly involves you. And most people
have no idea it's happening. Many of
your deceased loved ones have
volunteered to serve as part of your
spiritual support team. Not all. Some
souls need to focus entirely on their
own healing and learning. Some move
quickly into reincarnation.
Some ascend to levels where they no
longer interact with the physical plane.
But many choose to stay close, to watch
over you, to offer guidance when you're
open to receiving it. In Casey's
framework, there's a hierarchy of
spiritual support. Ascended masters,
angels, beings of pure light who have
graduated beyond the need for physical
incarnation. These higher guides work
with everyone whether you're aware of
them or not. But deceased loved ones
occupy a special role. They know you
intimately. They understand your wounds,
your fears, your potential. They
remember being human with all its
challenges and temptations. So they can
guide you with a kind of empathy that
higher beings for all their wisdom may
not possess. Here's how it works. They
can't interfere with your free will.
That's sacred, inviable. They can't make
your decisions or force you onto a
particular path. But they can send
signs, nudges, synchronicities that feel
too precise to be coincidence. They can
visit your dreams with messages, not the
confused symbolic dreams of your
subconscious, but clear visitation
dreams where they appear solid, healthy,
delivering specific guidance or comfort.
They can arrange meetings, place people
in your path, influence circumstances in
subtle ways that honor your sovereignty
while steering you toward opportunities
for growth.
Casey's readings provided countless
examples. A deceased mother who arranged
a chance meeting between her living
daughter and the man who would become
her husband. A father who sent repeated
signs that steered his son away from a
dangerous business partnership.
A grandmother whose presence was felt so
strongly at a crucial moment that it
prevented a suicide. How do you
recognize their guidance? sudden intense
memories of them at crucial decision
points like they've stepped into your
consciousness to remind you of something
they used to say, something you needed
to hear right now. Songs that play at
impossible moments, their favorite song
on the radio just as you're asking for a
sign. Once might be coincidence, but
when it happens repeatedly with eerie
timing, pay attention. Objects that
appear, a feather, a coin, a photograph
you haven't seen in years, suddenly
falling from a shelf. Small physical
reminders that they're near. And perhaps
most powerfully, gut feelings that
arrive in their voice, not audibly, but
a sense of their presence, their energy,
their loving influence on your
intuition. When you suddenly know what
they would say, when you feel their
approval or their caution, when their
essence seems to merge with your inner
knowing, that's not imagination, that's
attunement. They guide, but they never
control. They suggest, but they never
demand. Your free will is sacred, and
they honor it absolutely. But if you're
listening, if you're open, receptive,
willing to believe that death didn't
sever the bond, you'll start noticing
their influence everywhere. That feeling
that they're still with you. You're not
imagining it. They are, but they can't
guide you effectively if you're holding
on to one specific illusion. Upon death,
something extraordinary happens. The
deceased undergo an immediate life
review, not judgment imposed by an
external god with a ledger of sins, but
self-evaluation in the presence of
unconditional love. Casey described it
as standing before a mirror that
reflects total truth. Every choice,
every impact, every moment of love and
every moment of fear, nothing hidden,
nothing justified, just clarity. They
see their entire life not through their
own limited perception but through the
eyes of everyone they encountered. Every
person they hurt, they experience that
hurt as if they were the recipient, not
as punishment but as teaching. So they
understand viscerally the impact of
their actions. Every person they loved,
they feel that love received. They see
the ripples it created. The way one kind
word changed a trajectory. The way their
presence made someone feel less alone.
It's both devastating and liberating.
Devastating because selfdeception
evaporates. The lies they told
themselves in life. That the affair
didn't really hurt anyone, that their
anger was justified, that their absence
didn't matter, all dissolve under the
weight of truth. Liberating because they
also see the good they did. The small
kindnesses they forgot about. The
moments of courage they dismissed as
insignificant. The love they gave that
mattered more than they ever knew.
Casey's readings consistently revealed
that souls are often surprised by their
positive impact. They thought they
failed. They thought they weren't
enough. But from the other side, they
see how their love landed. How it
sustained someone through darkness. how
it altered the course of another soul's
journey. What does this mean for you?
That person who hurt you, they now know
what they did. They carry that
knowledge. They've experienced your pain
as their own. They can't call you and
apologize. They can't undo what was
done. But they can send you energetic
apologies, waves of remorse, of wish for
healing, of hope that you'll release the
burden of what they inflicted. And
here's the profound part. Your
forgiveness frees you more than it frees
them. They're already awake to their
failings. They're already in the process
of healing and growth. Your forgiveness
doesn't change their journey. It changes
yours. It releases the hook embedded in
your heart. It transforms you from
victim to sovereign soul. It completes
the karmic loop that kept you bound to
them in pain. Forgiveness isn't saying
what they did was acceptable. It's
saying, "I refuse to carry this anymore.
I release you. I release me." The flip
side is equally important. If you hurt
someone who has since died, if you carry
guilt or regret about what you said, or
didn't say, did, or didn't do, know
this. They see clearly now. They
understand the fear or pain that drove
your actions, and they forgive you. You
can offer them an energetic apology.
Speak it aloud. Write it in a letter you
burn. Meditate and send the words into
the space where they exist. Now they'll
receive it and the release will be
mutual. The person you're grieving is
not the same confused soul who left.
They've awakened. They've graduated into
clarity. And what they see about their
life leads to a shocking realization
about yours. From the afterlife
perspective, there's a stunning
reversal. Being alive, the state you
take for granted, the daily grind of
work and worry and mundane tasks is the
extraordinary condition, the rare
opportunity, the treasure that's easy to
squander. In Casey's readings, the
deceased express something like regret,
not the heavy, shameful regret of the
living, but a cleareyed wish, a longing.
If only they'd understood while
incarnate the sheer weight of earthly
life. Because every moment alive is a
chance to make choices that shape
eternity. Every conversation is an
audition for who you're becoming. Every
kindness is a brick in the architecture
of your eternal self. Every choice
between fear and love is casting a vote
for the soul you'll carry beyond the
veil. From the other side, they see it
so clearly. Life wasn't the obstacle
between them and peace. Life was the
opportunity, the singular chance to
practice love in the densest, hardest
classroom in the cosmos. And now that
they're on the other side, they can't
practice in the same way. They can
learn, they can grow, but they can't
take the same risks or make the same
choices. Incarnation offers something
unique. the ability to love imperfectly,
to fail and try again, to transform
suffering into wisdom while still in
form. Here's what they wish they'd
prioritized. Love over achievement. Not
because achievement is bad, but because
it doesn't transfer. The promotion, the
award, the bank account, it all stays
behind. But the love, that's the only
currency accepted in the afterlife.
Presence over productivity. All those
hours spent working late, chasing more,
accumulating things. They see now how
those hours could have been spent
holding their child, sitting with their
aging parent, being fully present with
their partner, courage over comfort, the
risks they didn't take, the truth they
didn't speak, the life they designed out
of fear instead of love. From the other
side, they wish they'd been braver.
forgiveness over righteousness, the
grudges they held, the feuds they
maintained, the refusal to bend even
when love required it. All of it seems
so small now, so painfully, tragically
small. And here's what they wish they'd
cared less about. Status. No one on the
other side cares what title you held or
how impressive your career was.
Possessions, the house, the car, the
carefully curated collection of things.
All of it irrelevant. Petty conflicts,
the argument with the neighbor, the
family drama that consumed years, the
political disagreements that fractured
relationships. From the afterlife
perspective, it's all noise. Others
opinions, the years spent contorting
themselves to meet others expectations,
to avoid judgment, to be accepted,
wasted energy. The message is urgent.
Don't wait until you're here to realize
what mattered. We're telling you now
that argument you're holding on to
meaningless from here, release it. That
risk you're afraid to take, take it. The
regret of not trying far exceeds the
pain of failure. That person you haven't
forgiven, they won't be here forever.
Neither will you. Forgive them now. That
love you haven't expressed. Speak it.
Write it. Show it. Tomorrow is not
guaranteed. They're not judging your
choices. They are hoping. desperately
hoping that you'll make different ones
than they did, that you'll live awake,
intentional, loving without hesitation.
But there's one choice they don't
regret, even when it caused immense
pain. This is the difficult comfort. The
truth that sounds like spiritual
bypassing, but isn't the reframe that
honors pain while revealing its hidden
architecture. From the other side, the
deceased can see how their earthly
suffering, the illness, the loss, the
trauma, the betrayal was part of their
chosen curriculum. Casey's cosmology is
clear on this. Souls don't incarnate
randomly. They choose. They select
specific lifetimes, specific challenges,
specific pain points because those
challenges are precisely what their soul
needs to grow. like a student choosing a
difficult course to accelerate learning.
Like an athlete selecting the harder
training regimen because it builds
greater strength. This doesn't erase the
pain's reality. Suffering in the moment
is real, brutal, often seemingly
meaningless. But from the expanded
perspective of the afterlife, the
meaning becomes visible. The chronic
illness taught patience and surrender.
The betrayal revealed where trust was
misplaced and catalyzed boundaries. The
loss cracked the heart open wider than
it could have opened any other way. They
want you to know we're not traumatized
anymore. We understand now. What felt
like random cruelty was initiation. What
looked like punishment was education.
The pain wasn't inflicted by a
capriccious god. It was invited by our
own soul which knew exactly what we
needed to evolve. This is especially
important for those whose loved ones
died young or tragically. Their souls
completed what they came to do. The
length of life doesn't determine its
completeness. A soul can accomplish its
purpose in 20 years or in 2 years or in
2 days. From the afterlife perspective,
they succeeded. They learned what they
came to learn. They taught what they
came to teach. Often through the very
circumstances of their death. Your loved
ones suffering wasn't in vain. It was
profound, painful, effective teaching
for them and for everyone who witnessed
it. Here's the paradox you're allowed to
hold. You're allowed to wish they hadn't
suffered. And you're also allowed to
trust that their soul knew what it was doing.
doing.
Both can be true. Your human grief and
your spiritual trust can coexist. What
they don't want is for you to be
destroyed by the unfairness of their
death. They don't want you to build an
altar to injustice and bow before it
daily. What they do want is for you to
extract the lesson, the teaching
embedded in their suffering and live it
on their behalf. Did their illness teach
you that life is fragile? Then live
urgently. Did their addiction reveal the
cost of numbing pain? Then face yours.
Did their death in service, military,
medical, sacrificial, show you the power
of selfless love? Then love selflessly.
Their pain wasn't wasted. But it becomes
wasted if you don't harvest the wisdom
it produced. And here's what they want
you to know about your pain, your
challenges, your suffering. You didn't
get unlucky. You made the same choice
they did. You chose this. Not from a
place of massochism or ignorance, but
from the expanded consciousness of your
soul before incarnation. You chose this
family, this body, this era. These
challenges. Casey's teachings on
reincarnation are unambiguous.
Souls select specific life conditions to
balance karma, develop qualities,
complete unfinished business. Nothing is
random. Everything is designed. Before
you incarnated, you looked at the
curriculum available in this lifetime
and said yes to the difficult parent.
You chose them to learn boundaries, to
develop forgiveness, to heal patterns
from previous lifetimes. To the health
challenge, you chose it to cultivate
patience. To develop compassion for
others who suffer, to learn that you are
not your body. to the heartbreak. You
chose it to crack your heart open wider
than safety allows. To learn that love
doesn't require reciprocation to be
real. Why does this matter? Because if
you chose this, then you're not a victim
of random chaos. You're a student who
enrolled in a challenging course. The
circumstances of your life aren't
happening to you. They're happening for
you. Designed by you, for your highest
evolution from the afterlife. The
deceased can see this clearly. They can
see the brilliance of your pre-birth
planning. Even when you can't see it
from inside the maze, they watch you
struggle and they want to whisper, "You
chose this. You knew it would be hard.
You chose it anyway because you're
braver than you remember. This doesn't
mean you have to enjoy it. Choice
doesn't equal ease. You can choose a
marathon and still find miles 20 through
26 excruciating. The choice doesn't make
the difficulty disappear. It just
changes your relationship to it. You're
not being punished with a hard life.
You're being educated with a rigorous
curriculum. And from the other side,
they want you to stop asking why me and
start asking what am I learning? Why was
I born into this family? What am I
learning about love or boundaries or
forgiveness? Why did I experience this
loss? What am I learning about
impermanence or resilience or faith? Why
did this relationship fail? What am I
learning about self-worth or
compatibility or letting go? The
questions shift from victimhood to
sovereignty, from suffering to meaning.
They're not telling you to bypass your
pain. Spiritual understanding doesn't
erase human emotion. You're allowed to
rage and weep and wish it were
different. But underneath the pain,
there's architecture, design, intention.
Your soul knew what it was doing when it
said yes to this life. And now, knowing
you chose this life, the next question
becomes obvious. This is the promise.
The one that should dissolve the fear of
permanent separation. According to
Casey, souls who genuinely loved each
other in life will reunite.
Not maybe. Not if you're good enough.
Not if you pray hard enough. Inevitably, guaranteed.
guaranteed.
Cosmically scheduled. Here's how it
works. Souls don't incarnate alone. They
travel in groups. Soul families, Casey
called them. These groups incarnate
together across lifetimes, cycling
through different relationships. In one
lifetime, your mother might be your
daughter, your brother might be your
spouse, your best friend might be your
parent. The roles change, but the souls
remain connected. This means the person
you're grieving. You've loved them
before in previous lifetimes in
different bodies, different
circumstances, different configurations,
and you'll love them again. When you
meet again, whether in the afterlife or
in another incarnation, there's instant
recognition, a knowing that transcends
logic, a feeling of I've been looking
for you. The bond you share exists
outside time. It's woven into the fabric
of your eternal selves. You can't
actually lose each other. Even when
death separates you temporarily, it's
just that, temporary. A pause between
chapters in a story that spans
lifetimes. Right now, while you're alive
and there in the afterlife, they may
already be planning their next
incarnation, possibly timing it to
overlap with yours. again choosing
circumstances that will allow you to reconnect.
reconnect.
You might meet them as a stranger who
becomes a friend or a colleague who
becomes essential or a child born into
your life carrying the unmistakable
essence of someone you've loved before.
This isn't wishful thinking. This is
soul law according to Casey's consistent
testimony across thousands of readings.
what they want you to release. The fear
that death ended the relationship. It
didn't. It transformed it. Right now,
you're separated by the veil. But the
veil is thin and getting thinner as
human consciousness evolves. You're
connected across dimensions. And one
day, whether in the afterlife when you
cross over or in another lifetime when
you both return, you'll be together
again fully, completely with total
recognition and joy. The reunion is
already scheduled. It's guaranteed. So,
what does this mean for how you live
now? It means you don't have to cling or
wait or put your life on hold. It means
you can live fully, love completely, and
trust the design. The relationship
didn't end. It's just in intermission.
And when you reunite, you'll want to
have grown. You'll want to be an even
better match than you were last time.
You'll want to bring stories of a life
fully lived, lessons fully learned, love
fully expressed. Live now. Love now.
Trust the reunion. It's coming. But
there's one more message. The
culmination of all the others. The
reason for every teaching, every
insight, every truth they've tried to
communicate, every message distills to
this, every regret, every insight, every
urgent whisper from the other side
points to the same singular truth. Love
is the only currency that transfers
across the veil. In the life review,
only two questions matter. Casey
reported this again and again. When
souls stand before the mirror of truth,
when they evaluate the life they just
lived, only two questions are asked. How
much did you love? How much did you
learn? Everything else, the success, the
beauty, the wealth, the status, the
achievements you worked so hard to
accumulate is stage props. Set dressing
for the play of incarnation. None of it
makes the journey from the afterlife.
They watch you strive and hustle and
compete and they want to say you're
spending so much energy on things that
will evaporate the moment you cross
over. The house doesn't matter. The
career irrelevant. The body you're so
worried about, you'll leave it behind
like an old coat. But the love that
comes with you. Every act of love, every
choice to love when fear would have been
easier. every expansion of your heart's
capacity. That's the wealth that
matters. Casey's readings reveal three
forms of love. The departed emphasize.
First, love for others, especially the
hard to love. The difficult people, the
ones who triggered you, challenged you,
made you want to close your heart in
self-p protection. Loving them not
because they earned it, but because love
is who you are. That's the graduate
level curriculum. Second, love for self
without which you can't truly love
others. Not the narcissistic conditional
love that says I'm worthy when I
succeed. But the unconditional love that
says I'm worthy because I exist because
my soul is inherently valuable because
I'm a spark of the divine having a human
experience. Third, love for the divine,
whatever you call it, God, source, the
universe, consciousness. The love that
recognizes you're part of something
infinitely larger than yourself. The
love that surrenders the illusion of
separation and remembers. You are held,
guided, never alone. What the departed
see clearly now, every human is a soul
on a journey. Every encounter is an
opportunity to practice love. The clerk
at the grocery store, a soul. The
stranger on the bus, a soul. The person
whose politics enrage you, a soul. All
of you playing different roles in the
grand curriculum of Earth. All of you
learning love through the friction of
being human. The regret they carry, if
it can even be called regret, from their
place of clarity, is the times they
chose fear over love, judgment over
compassion, safety over vulnerability,
when they withheld love because someone
didn't deserve it, when they protected
their heart instead of risking it. When
they were right instead of kind. Their
urgent plea, don't wait to love. Not
until the conditions are perfect. Not
until you're healed. Not until they
deserve it. Not until you're sure
they'll love you back. Love now. Love
messily. Love imperfectly. Love without
guarantee. Because every day alive is
another chance to increase your love
capacity. And that's the only wealth you
take with you. Imagine your life review
standing before that mirror of truth.
Seeing every moment, every choice, every
relationship. What will matter? The
argument you won, the deadline you met,
the pound you lost, or the moment you
chose kindness when cruelty was easier,
the time you forgave when bitterness
felt justified, the love you gave even
when you were afraid. This is what the
dead want you to know. The culmination
of all 10 messages. You are eternal.
Your relationships are eternal. The love
you cultivate is eternal. Everything
else is temporary. Beautiful, meaningful
in its way, but temporary. So, how do
you live with this knowledge? You know
what they know now? The question is,
what changes? Because information
without application is entertainment.
True understanding demands
transformation. Here's how you integrate
each message into your daily life.
Message one, we are not gone. Create
rituals to feel their presence. Talk to
them out loud or silently. They hear
you. Set a place for them at holiday dinners.
Click on any text or timestamp to jump to that moment in the video
Share:
Most transcripts ready in under 5 seconds
One-Click Copy125+ LanguagesSearch ContentJump to Timestamps
Paste YouTube URL
Enter any YouTube video link to get the full transcript
Transcript Extraction Form
Most transcripts ready in under 5 seconds
Get Our Chrome Extension
Get transcripts instantly without leaving YouTube. Install our Chrome extension for one-click access to any video's transcript directly on the watch page.
