Archive for January, 2010

Mountain Air

January 21, 2010

It’s a sweltering night and the light drizzle is not enough to keep me indoors. Sitting on the steps outside my thatched loft room in the Overberg mountains, I look past the rising trunk of a parched tree towards the shadowy mountains. Above, the clear night sky is scattered with stars that you don’t see from the city. The silence is almost eerie.

I came here to visit a dear friend and also to consider the option of moving here one day. You see, I have dreams. Plenty of them. This week I have been thinking about how to make these dreams a reality. To come up with a game plan. What I have instead found during my time here in the country is this – I have been living in the future. In my dreams and vision boards I am already living with my girls on a farm and my book is already published. I have designed my house and I have mapped my path. My dreams are so specific that I have been existing there.

But I am not there, I am here, now. The only sound is the drought-browned leaves rustling in the warm berg wind and the odd distant bark of a farm dog. And as I sit here and breathe in the mountain air I know what I want. I want simplicity, I want to be present and love my girls, and I want to write. I am writing. Not to become a famous author, I’m just writing. I don’t know where it will lead. I still believe in dreams. I want to finish my book, but I am no longer attached to the outcome. I want to have a lifestyle where my children can grow up running free, but I don’t mind where. And while I am doing whatever I do, I will follow my heart and enjoy each step of this journey. I don’t want to miss out on today. Here. Now. Open to all possibilities.


Whisperings from Another World

January 9, 2010

This is an article I wrote for a magazine, that I wanted to share –

Whisperings from Another World: After Death Communications
Can your loved one communicate with you from the other side?
by Leila Summers

I sometimes think I can hear him in the wind or I catch a flicker of movement out the corner of my eye but when I turn, he’s not there. The first time I felt my husband, Stuart, was only a few hours after I had received the news that he had drowned at sea. I was driving when I unexpectedly felt his presence. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I nervously looked in my review mirror half expecting to see him. Then an immense calm flooded through me and as I looked across the sky, the clouds had a brilliant golden edging. I knew Stuart was trying to tell me that he was at peace. But this wasn’t my only communication with my dead husband.

The following night, I saw Stuart in a dream.  We were sitting across from each other in two old fashioned armed chairs. He was explaining things to me without actual words and I again had the sense that he was at peace. Months later, I was surprised to read that conversation in a dream visitation is always telepathic and the author described an example of sitting across from each other on two chairs in an empty room.

During those beginning days, black birds and orange butterflies seemed to follow me around. My daughters Jane, aged six, and Rose, aged four, had their own dreams and experiences. One day, Jane casually asked me why dad always runs next to the car when we are driving. I tried not to look surprised and questioned her about it. She explained that his legs move slowly and his feet don’t touch the ground.

I talk to Stuart all the time, but I am never sure if the conversations in my head are figments of my imagination. At times he even warned me of things that were about to happen before they did! Like the night I drove home late and knew that there were burglars in my house.

My most recent experience was a lucid dream. I woke up to the feeling of arms around me. As I leaned into the hug I looked down and recognised Stuart’s arms. I said – it’s you! By thought, he replied – yes, it’s me. I could physically feel the arms. The top of his body was pressed through an invisible veil, as if it was an effort. I said – you managed to get through. He answered – it is difficult. After a long hug, his form was sucked back and suddenly disappeared. I was sitting up in bed, awake and knew it was real. After some time I opened my eyes to find that I was still lying down and slowly it dawned on me that it must have all been a dream.

Skeptics will say that these are all coincidences or imagination. But whether you believe in after death communication or not, there is no doubt that these experiences can be extremely comforting and healing in the grieving process.

After Death Communication or ADC is a term coined by Bill and Judy Guggenheim, authors of the book ‘Hello From Heaven’. They define an ADC as a spiritual experience that occurs when a person is contacted directly and spontaneously by a loved one who has died. These experiences include sensing a presence, hearing a voice, feeling a touch, smelling a fragrance, visions, dreams, physical phenomena and symbols. Typical symbolic ADCs include butterflies, rainbows, flowers, birds and other animals, and any number of inanimate objects. For more information visit

Leila Summers lives in Durban, South Africa, with her two daughters. She enjoys reading and writing and has a passion for research. She is busy writing her memoir, It Rains In February. Visit