Conversation with Christina Ameron, author What my brother knew
First, please tell us about your brother, Jay. What kind of child was he and how did you have a relationship with him?
Jay was extraordinary. Even as a child, he had the energy of a magnetic, wise year that could draw you in. He was curious, creative and had an unusual ability to connect deeply with the people and the world around him. We were approaching as our brothers often did — building together secrets, conflicts, dreams to share — but there was also the respect I had for him. I didn’t fully understand it at the time, but Jay was clear about life and death, but it was rare and almost worldwide.
Jay predicted his death with amazing accuracy. He said the green car would attack him while he was on his bike. Do you remember the moment he pieced together what was actually unfolding? Did the others believe you when we talked about Jay’s premonition?
The moment that happened was surreal. I didn’t just make connections, I was slammed at me like a wave. I remember how creepy they matched what Jay said. It was devastating and oddly positive, as if he knew something none of us could understand. At first, I hesitated to talk about it. The idea of predicting his 13-year-old death is still difficult to grasp. When I finally did, people had a mixed reaction. Some believed in me, others thought that sadness was just the trick in my memory.
How did this prediction, and Jay’s passing – shape your understanding of life, death, and unexplained? How did it affect your philosophical and spiritual beliefs?
It was completely unraveled and I learned to understand my existence. Jay’s foreboding forced him to question everything he thought he knew about reality, time, and consciousness. Over time, I pushed me into exploring Donald Hoffman’s conscious realism, quantum physics, the philosophy of a cosmic tapestry, where everything is interconnected. It also deepened my appreciation for the mysteries of life and death. It is not how it is entangled in the same infinite aspects of the process and intertwined aspects.
At some point in your life, you realised that you weren’t talking in depth with anyone who actually knew him about Jay’s death. How was it like reunion with friends who grew up with him?
The reconnection was painful and soothing. It felt like I was opening up the old wound, but at the same time I was able to see Jay through the eyes of others. Hearing their stories and memories gave rise to richer pictures of who he was and how his presence touched those around him. It also reminded me that sadness is not linear. It is a common experience that evolves over time.
Do you believe in signs and sync, moments of insight from the universe? How can you recognize and interpret these signs? How do you identify which indications are accepted as meaningful and which is simply a choking?
absolutely. We believe that signs and sync are the universe’s way of communicating with us and lead us towards growth and understanding. To recognize them, your intuition needs tranquility, presence, and trust. To identify their meaning, I ask myself whether experience resonates deeply with what I have come up with. When I feel that “sign” lives meaningfully, I accept it as a gift.
What role did nature play in your spiritual awakening? Is this an approach that others can rely on in their journey through sadness and emotional transformation?
Nature is my sanctuary and still my sanctuary, a place I feel held and understood. Walking along frozen lakes with my dog or putting flowers in my backyard leads to something bigger than me. The cycle of nature’s growth, collapse and renewal reflects my own healing process. I think anyone can find comfort and transformation in nature. It reminds us of our place in the world and the rhythm that unites all living things.
How does your book explore self-love and compassion?
A healing journey from trauma and loss demands self-love and compassion. My memoirs are, in many ways, love letters to my young self. Turning her pain over, celebrating her resilience and allowing her to struggle. By sharing my story, I would like to show my readers that self-compassion is the foundation of deeper healing and connection.
How did you stay motivated on a spiritual journey without being cynical? Have you experienced moments of unwillingness, doubt, and frustration? How did you handle that?
of course! I felt lost, I doubted my path, and I wanted to give up. I learned not to resist them, but to tilt towards those moments. Practices such as contemplative writing, photography, and connections with supportive communities helped me navigate uncertainty. Sometimes I was able to meet new teachers at key moments. I tried to remember a larger picture than usual: even that growth and transformation is possible; And especially The darkest times, and all beings lie in eternal journeys.
Why do you think many people are so afraid of death? Should we?
I think the fear of death comes from attachment to the unknown and the material world. But what happens when death is not the end, but a transition? Jay’s story taught us that death holds a deep mystery. It emphasizes the beauty of life. Instead of fearing it, we can see it as teachers and invite us to live more fully.
What do you think will happen if we die? How did you come to that belief?
I think consciousness continues in some way and is woven into the fabric of the universe. Jay’s premonition and the sync I experienced show that there is more to us than we see or understand. Many are unknown and my beliefs are not strict. It is an evolving understanding, open to adoration and discovery. As our teacher Dr. Mark Gafni says, we live in an intimate universe and we know without question that our stories are chapters and poetry of the universe’s tales.
While writing this book you learned a lot about your brother, his life, and his death. Are there still unanswered questions that will leave you haunting?
Yes, and I think there is always. Jay’s death left me with questions that I could never answer, but I learned to find peace in my unknown. It is in a mysterious space that we can most deeply connect with the meaning behind our existence.
What do you want your readers to take away from your book?
Jay. His story. I want readers to truly feel and believe in who each life is a profound mystery. problem. I hope that readers do not feel alone in their own pain and are associated with the beautiful, unknown quality of life. I want them to see that healing is possible, that love can transcend even the greatest tragedy, and that no matter how painful all losses can be, they can light the path forward.
How has your book changed since you wrote it?
Writing “What My Brother Knowed” was a profound experience, but ever since I finished it, I have been reluctant to reread it. My writing has always felt like a ghost I was scared to meet. This reflects my pain and resilience and I feel that life is too born to revisit. For years I avoided it.
Something changed when I finally reread it. Instead of fear, I felt relieved. Over the years I have come to once again fulfill the depth of holding Jay’s story for myself. Jay wanted us to know that his foreboding, his life, and even his death were gifts we shared to awaken something within us. With a book about to be published, I feel like I’m not walking alone anymore. Jay’s story lives only in my body anymore. It will take shape in the form of a book and will soon live in the hands and minds of others. Sharing Jay with the world is bringing greater healing.
Source: Spiritual Media Blog – www.spiritualmediablog.com