I have never been afraid of death. My sister will shudder when she reads this, but she knows this to be true. Rather than fear, I have a reverence for this transition and have always viewed it as a parallel spiritual experience to birth. I have had the honor and responsibility to sit with others as they pass from this world to the next, just as I have given birth to two beautiful souls. Both experiences feel like I am holding my breath and at the same time shouting from the rooftops. It has an air of complete silence yet with the buzzing sound of energy being exchanged.  Time stops for a moment and I feel my heart beating as it expands and contracts. Becoming acutely aware of my humanness as well as my holiness. It is a beautiful thing.  

 

When the heart grieves over what it has lost, the spirit rejoices over what it has left.” – Sufi

 

I sometimes think that I am not from this world. I don’t understand the constant need for commercial success, the hatred of others, the competition and greed.  I long for something that I cannot define, but know is just beyond. When I walk in the morning and feel the breathe of a new day, I feel the closest to this other. I tell no one, because this must sound crazy.  I know it is not, but I still worry about what others will think that have no reference or ability to believe what is not seen.

 

My physical body is just flesh and bones. I honor it by eating well, exercising and keeping active. I know too that this body is just a shell, a skin that will be shed, making way for the wondrous butterfly that is underneath the layers of a life well lived. I close my eyes and envision this moment when I will be free to fly as I am meant too.  I open my eyes and feel the restriction of my clothes, this body and my routine. It can be suffocating. I wonder if this is why the very young and the very old tear of their clothes at the first chance and gleefully parade about. Yet, I am so thankful that my physical body has allowed for so many life experiences. I am one that is living in both worlds, walking in between.

 

I once visited a healer and as soon as I entered her room she reached for my arm, taken aback by what she saw.  She told me that I had a legion of angels and protectors walking in with me.  I had been reading the work of St Francis at the time and she described a friar with a beard standing by my head.  She knew nothing about me, or the thin veil between the worlds, yet she saw me….really saw me. Used to hiding right under the radar, afraid to share too much with anyone, I was taken aback by her ability to see this. There were others that had variations of this gift as well? I felt instantly comforted and less alone.

 

It is not the end of the physical body that should worry us. Rather, our concern must be to live while we’re alive – to release our inner selves from the spiritual death that comes with living behind a facade designed to conform to external definitions of who and what we are.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

 

Death is not the end, but a new beginning.  If you are scientific you understand this. The first law of thermodynamics states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed; energy can only be transferred or changed from one form to another. Both birth and death are monumental transfers of energy. What has been found cannot be lost. We are forever more eternal and this should bring comfort to those afraid of the unknown.

 

Speaking of death does not make one dark or melancholic. It is a transition of life that none of us will escape. Reflecting on this is meaningful on a spiritual path and useful for growth.  The question becomes not what is death, but rather how do I live? By avoiding the topic of death, one never really understands that this life is fleeting and the measure of a good life is in the living. As one with a thin veil, I embrace each day and am not afraid of tomorrow.  I know what is to come and am ready when my lessons here are complete.