Transitions

I believe in life after death but it scares me.

My fear, I know is only the fear of the unknown, like how I felt before I ever flew in an airplane.  All of those unanswered questions, how would it stay up in the air, would I survive the fall if it didn’t.  Then my father took me up in a small cessna, we soared above the land and into the clouds, free and at one with the beauty of the sky.  My stomach moved with the wind, up to greet my heart and down again.  My feet, so redundant from the earth, hung from my small body waiting for their next step.

It’s the same with many new experiences, snorkeling, writing, speaking out in public, a new job and those first date nerves.  Until I have reached the other side of the experience I have no map of it or understanding.  It is clearly the transition and loss of any control that scares me not the event.

The separation of my soul from my body worries me, will it know where to go will it leave anything behind, what colour will it be and what will that say about me.  What about the scars, how will the soul carry these memories.  What about these poor souls you hear about that are lost, left to wander the earth until rescued, will my soul find its way.

We get so entrenched in our lives as they are, without the chains that hold us to the everyday, what will we do without these ties.  It took me a year to get used to being me after I quit the job I felt I was dying in.  I had spent years going through the motions that I felt kept me safe in a job I was not happy or ever my true self in.

This year I have found me, talked to myself and explored my new world.  I have made new friends, much kinder, more interesting friends.  The reason for this I think is because they are the people I have met while doing the things I want to do, they like me are drawn to certain areas and experiences.  Through my new world I believe I have found love and that I really care about the people in my life, not for what they give me but for what we share.

I do worry about those people I love when I die, the separation from them even if only for a short while pains me to think about.  Will I really be able to see my family grow, will I carry my worries as a parent with me or will I know then that everything will be okay.  Will my son feel me close by and catch me from the corner of his eye, will he notice the signs. What about the people who wait to greet me, that have been watching my mistakes on earth, will they too understand.

When we make this next transition, will we understand, does the soul that has travelled through many lives really recall them all.  Will this last existence make sense when remembered with all the others.

And then what……

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