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Friday, June 1, 2018
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Bruce A. Smith posted a condolence
Monday, April 16, 2018
In Memoriam, Janet McNamara, 4. 17. 18
My path crossed with Janet’s intermittently through the past thirty years. In the ’90s she was a dynamic force at Mail Unlimited, helping its owner, Francesca White – who was my girlfriend, too – develop the business into the enterprise it is currently. Later, we’d have a dinner together occasionally or a glass of wine. It seemed that every time we touched base with each other she was living in another location, with a unique configuration – a house sitting gig arranged by a real estate company, a house share with other masters, a tent, and at one point even her own apartment! I even ran into once at the Masters’ Center at the showers as we were both without any place to live that had the basics, like plumbing.
But my lingering memory of Janet was an interview I conducted with her for the Golden Thread on a healing that she manifested for herself at RSE. During a Twilight retreat in the 1990s, Janet experienced a severe shortness of breath coupled with intense chest pain. “I’m having a heart attack!” she realized. But instead of getting out of her twilight focus and summoning a Red Guard for help, she resolved to heal herself in consciousness using what she had learned from Ramtha.
Her first thought was to focus on light-heartedness – to envision her heart being happy. Instantly images of her father appeared in her mind, followed by a memory of a visit to Disneyland with him. That image led to visions of Mickey Mouse dancing all over the place, and Janet burst out laughing. She stayed in that joyful reverie all night, playing with sweet memories of her father, his books and his love of science and learning.
When Ramtha called an end to that twilight session, Janet said that all of her chest pains were gone. She felt her heart attack was completely healed. Later, she says that Ramtha confirmed to her that she had had a heart attack. More importantly, she was processing her father’s DNA and restructuring it so that she would have complete cardiac health for the rest of her time.
When I heard that Janet had died I was surprised. Then I learned she passed away from cancer. “Must be time for her to have a new adventure,” I mused. She was that kind of gal, an adventurer. Bold, too. So, blessing to you, “Tanaj,” (as she called herself – Janet spelled backwards). My toast at her chair at the memorial service was blunt in Tanaj-esque fashion – “Give ’em hell, Janet.”
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Shelley Brown posted a condolence
Monday, April 16, 2018
I shared two caregiving jobs with Janet. She was the ultimate partner on both cases. She never needed to be “right”, never needed to control any situation. We just harmoniously worked together. She was truly lovely and one client loved her like the daughter she had never had. I was so happy to hear that she had received a lot of loving care from others. She absolutely deserved that. I attended her Irish wake and thought it a brilliant ceremony. I really felt like I got to speak to her in that chair and then toast to her new journey. Godspeed Janet.
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Vivian Clermont posted a condolence
Thursday, April 12, 2018
I will miss Janet and her bubbly personality – she helped many newcomers to the teaching find their way here, find lodging, jobs, and ranch gear and was a Momma bear with her cubs taking care of them. I know she met her teacher and is now on the Plane of Bliss. Bless you Janet, we are all better for knowing you.
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Victoria (Blaze) Blazejewski posted a condolence
Thursday, April 12, 2018
Back in the “old days” – probably the early 90’s – registration at The Ranch was done the old-fashioned way: in person, and you waited your turn at the window.
Now this particular event was Assay. It was not a required event, but one attended by personal choice where students came to test what they had learned by applying it under different circumstances. It was summer. It was hot. The line was long. It stretched all the way from the windows, down along the length of the Arena to where the Children’s Playground now stands. But the students were happy and excited to be standing there, and it was not uncommon for someone to hold your place whilst you attended to other callings. I had just resumed my place when the woman behind me asked me if I would do the same for her. Of course…and off she went.
When she returned a short time later, she handed me the sweetest little bunch of pansies that she had gotten from God only knows where. “These are for you” she said handing them to me. And then she laughed, “There are no ordinary flowers so indeed, you must have them!” I stood there contemplating those simple flowers, each one alike, and each one different from the next. It led me to the realization that just as there are no ordinary flowers, that moment of introduction was an uncommon moment with an extraordinary woman. I later understood that there are no common moments, either. I drew a card of those flowers for that event entitled “There Are No Ordinary Moments.”
Thus began my friendship with Janet McNamara. Our abiding love for RSE was seconded only by our mutual love of Star Trek. We began to call each other “Q” for the omnipotent, irrasible bane of Jean-Luc Picard’s existence who would try him, test him, teach him, confound him, and ultimately bring out his very best mind.
We weren’t close if one defined that by seeing or calling each other regularly. Whenever we saw each other, either at school, or out and about, we would always stop to talk, catch up, exchange points of view and explore the teachings we so treasured.
I’ve never seen someone with so much courage and strength. When she told me the doctors had given her 10 days to live, her voice never trembled or shook and the smile never left her face. The card I made for her and hung up on the Christ-in-Mass Tree was a simple ultra violet blue Q with a star and webs in its center, so powerful, just like Janet. Bless the fortitude of her being! She turned those 10 days into 4 months.
Thank you, Q, for teaching me that there are no ordinary moments. I will look for you in the stars, and hear you laughing with The Wind.
— Victoria
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