Death had been a major thing this week for me. My stepdads funeral was yesterday and our dog had to be put to sleep the day before. This sudden shock of something that is so definite. No more, ever. To never feel that love for this person or animal ever again. The fear of that unknown. Something that awaits all of us. The mystery of it, maybe the fear of it.
Things usually come and go and death is forever. This is the only thing we know for sure will happen to all of us.
In level 2 teacher training we spent a whole week talking and meditating on death. What happens in the afterlife. What do we really know. Here is a video I did right after that week. ( Swenglish)
At the wake of my stepdad, a woman came to me and she told me that it was her third funeral this week. She told me that she had a problem believing that GOD had a predetermined plan for us and that he decided over us.
Ï told her that she did not have to believe that if she didn’t want to. That she could believe in what made sense to her.
Instead of Rest in Peace that I wrote on the bouquet of flowers at the church, I would love to have written …
”On to the next adventure beyond this 3 rd dimensional world. “
It is in the 3rd dimensional world that we live in right now and where we feel pain and sorrow and powerlessness because of the restriction of our ego.
I choose to believe that death is just a shift in dimension. A roadtrip in the world of dimensions.
When you sit in sorrow as I did during the ceremoni, I felt very empty, morning a loss. No hope, just despair over the fact that I will never see this person again. I listened to the preachers voice, clinging on to the selective words of hope and encouragement about the afterlife. Something that is so hard to understand when you live in a 3 rd dimensional space.
The dead might be dead to this world but I am sure they are still living in another dimension.
A place that I do not know how to access. But they have, and that intrigues me.
They are, have, experienced something that I have yet to experience.
It is like waiting for your turn in the merry go round and the closer I get to my turn the more unbelievable it feels.
This is what I said to this 80 year old woman in front of me at her third funeral this week. Her mouth was open and she looked at me as if I was a bit crazy, but still, I could see a little smile behind her eyes as she walked away.
