July 28, 2026

As my fourth writing honoring Sherryl Lin Taylor’s life and passage, I want to share her last words to me. They were unusual in a number of ways. And I feel they are meaningful to us all, worth pondering, and very much the sort of thing she’d enjoy having shared as wisdom from her.

She had come to me that morning quite clearly when I woke and asked me to visit her that day, saying she had a question for me. As it happened, Brian and another person decided to join as well.

The three of us were around her bedside; Brian and his friend were visiting, Brian sharing stories of his times with Sherryl Lin. After listening to them for a while, I began to feel Sherryl Lin reminding me she had a question.

Let me clarify that Sherryl Lin had become quiet and non-responsive in the last few days, her breath having grown more labored as well. So my last communication with her was entirely telepathic, non-verbal, but absolutely clear.

Receiving the feeling of inquiry from her, I asked telepathically, “You mentioned having a question for me?”

I felt her “Yes,” then immediately understood her question as: “Is breath also something you have to let go of?”

Her question referred to numerous conversations we’d had in the previous months as she moved closer to passing. She often asked me how I’d observed people in their final moments of letting go of the body. She realized the body itself had a strong reflex to stay alive and wondered if I’d observed people have difficulty with that at the end.

I had seen this many times, observing that it was not as automatic as we might sometimes suspect. Letting go of the body wasn’t always easy. So on this occasion her question to me was whether breath is also something you have to let go of. Her communication had a feeling of uncertainty about whether stopping breathing was okay.

Sitting there, I realized that, in fact, there could be an uncertainty about that. It seems obvious in a way, but when it comes to actually stopping breathing, I realized that in the moment it likely wouldn’t feel that obvious.

So I told her, “Yes, it’s necessary to let go of breath too.”

I wondered if she would do that right then because I had the sense that she was “practicing” it, approaching it, knowing yes, it was also something else to release. I could feel her approach her last breath and back away a few times.

Then I suddenly realized that what she was practicing was similar to holding her breath. I communicated to her that holding her breath was not what was needed. I felt her puzzlement.

“Rather than holding your breath,” I felt inspired to say, “you exhale as usual, letting all the air go. Then—realizing you no longer need breath because your full essence of self never dies—you simply don’t take another inhale.”

I felt a flash of insight pass between us, an AHA on her part, as she felt what was absolutely true: she didn’t need breath anymore! It was a revelation for both of us, at a depth I find words inadequate for. Though I suspect you feel it too.

It’s a deep, clear memory in us, this lack of need for earthly air. It’s an instinct as certain as the body’s natural instinct is to breathe. We instinctively breathe, but we also remember how not to breathe.

She got it. And again I wondered if she was going to pass then, with the three of us with her. I felt her smile and say, “Now that I understand how, I’ll just stay here… I want to listen to my sweetheart’s voice for a while.”

Brian talked on, remembering with his friend, as his sweetheart let the timbre and frequency of his voice wash over her, sound being the last of the senses to leave us when we go.

At length the friend left, and soon after Brian and I drove the hour back to our area together. We learned that Sherryl Lin passed before we were home.

Her beautiful last words to me—a question—seemed a wonderful gift.

And her beautiful last words for him—that she wanted, just a little longer, to listen to the sound of her sweetheart’s voice—were deeply touching to us both.

It is always a rare time, this walk with someone through their final passage in life. Many of you know this from your own experiences. Within it is the same mix of difficulty and awe, the same hush and feeling of the sacred that accompany a newborn’s birth into this world. It is a similar honor to be with someone in their departure out of it. The feeling of it lingers and deepens our awareness of our light and our own eternal natures.

Sharing that light and love with you,
Mayet Leilani

PS -The family incurred many expenses not covered by insurance and some of you may want to make a financial gift to them.  Here is their GoFundMe link. Alternatively, you can email me if you’d like to know how to donate directly to them by check or transfer. I know it would be gratefully accepted.

July 23, 2026

After a few weeks of honoring Sherryl Lin Taylor’s life and passage, I wanted to look again at the message she received from Spirit when she came to me for a session shortly after her diagnosis in February or March.

You might remember that I published that message here without her name, but with her full permission. Reading it again, I see that it carries a simple potency for helping us all design a new way of walking our path. I thought the message was worth repeating.

Beloved woman, as you have grown, you—like most others—have done so assuming that life should be largely knowable, sorting always for clarity, certainty, and prediction. The desire being that the future make sense in advance and that the ground be solid beneath the feet. Most of your life energy has gone to the endeavor of creating and maintaining the seeming safety and certainty of solid ground.

Yet in truth, its your experience that it rarely is. Most of what is called certain, in fact, is always and only a set of working assumptions. There is the assumption that tomorrow will resemble today, that the people who are loved will remain, that bodies will continue as they are, and plans will unfold more or less as intended.

In truth, however, it is ambiguity that has been your constant companion. You realize this, as all do, for it is widely known but rarely deeply acted within. And so—full of anxiety and questions about how things will turn out—there is always the turning to psychics, experts, authorities, healers—diviners of the unknown. And this is purposeful, well and good, and is a fun way for you to communicate with Spirit.

Yet there is also a place in you, in all, that is knowing itself. You are meant to guide yourself from there more often. This is called the Living Way.

What you face now is the invitation from the Fullness to set yourself primarily upon this Way—which means the putting aside of the illusion of certainty, doing this so that you may live ever more gracefully with not-knowing. This then becomes your superpower—artfully living with ambiguity. That is your Way Forward, and what is that Way? It is the discovery of the true power of The Unfolding Path.

For you see, ambiguity has always been woven into the deepest truth of all; it is the core of the Unknown. At the very heart of existence lies a vast and beautiful mystery—the creative force flowing through galaxies, forests, oceans, and through the unfolding of your own life.

Ambiguity is a spiritual orientation of high order. It is the willingness to participate in a universe far more creative, surprising, and alive than your certainties would ever allow.

And in learning to rest more comfortably in not knowing the outcomes and timelines, you will begin to discover something quietly reassuring:

That the ambiguity humanity has tried to avoid at all costs is actually the very space in which life is continuously creating itself.

Which means, beloved one, that when you feel lost in the wobble of ambiguity—wondering what comes next, urgently wanting to know—you are not lost at all.

You are simply standing where the life that you are is still writing your story—where the power of life resides.

And so we see you standing in just such a place at this time, waving your magic wand about like a child who knows the power of make-believe—but one who is also a Merlin, wise with the secrets of the gradually unfolding and ever-continuing Life. Walk this way from here, dear one, and all answers will unfold with certainty and beauty as you do.

This is exactly how she walked from that point: through the information-gathering about her diagnosis, through their decision not to have the aggressive treatment that would destroy her quality of life without good result, and through all the changes and diminished capacities that followed, as well as through her departure. She allowed it all to unfold with a calm certainty and trust that was both inspiring and a lesson to observe.

It’s a beautiful message, isn’t it? One so appropriate to each of us in our own lives. And it feels like the perfect way to end this month of sharing about her journey.

May we all walk the Living Way on our roads ahead and discover the true power of The Unfolding Path. This is my prayer. And many blessings to you, Sherryl Lin, as you continue your life in spirit.

Lovingly,
Mayet Leilani

PS -The family incurred many expenses not covered by insurance and some of you may want to make a financial gift to them.  Here is their GoFundMe link. Alternatively, you can email me if you’d like to know how to donate directly to them by check or transfer. I know it would be gratefully accepted.

July 16, 2026

For those of you who would like to contact to contribute to the Medical expenses of Sherryl Lin and family, we’ve just realized we gave a nonfunctional link in the last two articles.  Here is their GoFundMe link that you can use instead. This allows you to give even a very small amount and not need to contact me or anyone else.

A few weeks previous to her passing, my friend Sherryl Lin became bed-ridden, having to adjust to performing all body functions in bed and needing help with doing most things.

Observing her as she faced these big changes, I asked, “You seem to be adjusting to all this quite patiently, is that how it feels for you?”

Her reply reminded me so much of the tone of all the practical and frank wisdom that fills her book, Wise Beyond Your Fears. She said, “Well, part of me doesn’t want to accept these changes with patience AT ALL. But then I think about fussing about it or fighting it and I remember how that feels… which is not good at all. Plus it’s so much work!  Remember how that feels, I have such a huge sense of just wanting to make it a lot easier on myself because it’s so much harder when you fight things. So I let it all go and then it oddly becomes easy to handle.”

Through all the large changes and small indignities—even when everything became draining and hard and uncomfortable—she remained calm and patient. And grateful.  It’s unusual and a bit amazing.

It’s a lesson for us all about resistance and a study in letting things go.  And—as it is for all of us—turning things over and letting things go has been a life-long practice.  She said, “Why do we ever think it’s so confusing or hard? I wish everyone could see how simple, how easy, it actually is!  And what a relief!”

She asked me if I’d like to pass that on to my readers, “… just tell them I know it doesn’t seem like it, but releasing things is oddly incredible easy!  Maybe they’ll be able to feel what I mean.”

What a great thing to share, I can feel the invitation of it, can’t you?  It’s worth giving it a try, just walking away from the old familiar stories, once and for all.

What a blessed time this has been; how grateful I am to have spent spring and early summer in this way.

Sending you some of those blessings, 
and love,
💗 Mayet

PS –The family incurred many expenses not covered by insurance and some of you may want to make a financial gift to them.  Here is their GoFundMe link.  Alternatively, you can email me for assistance with your donation.  I know it would be gratefully accepted.