The line was long, very long. And I couldn’t quite remember what I was in line for, but I knew they would give the proper directions at the front of the line. The people in line with me didn’t seem to know any more than I did. We were the clueless, blankly staring, trying to recognize the surroundings, which were familiar somehow, but not yet identifiable.
Someone called to me and indicated I should leave the line and follow them. As I stepped out of line and walked toward him, my mind and vision cleared. I could see we were in an extremely large terminal of some kind, like a bus terminal, only the size of twenty superbowls. The ceiling was so high I couldn’t make it out. The space was filled with people standing in lines, waiting for directions and answers to the questions, “Where am I? Where am I supposed to go? How did I get here?” They were the recently departed, who arrived on the other side with no preparation. In life they tried to ignore death, or put off thinking about it until it was too late. Because they had no concept with which to understand their situation, they had to rely on the explanations of others. To do that, they had to wait in line.
I realized that I was brought to this place as the others were, in order to understand what it is like to pass over with no forethought or preparation. For me it was a learning exercise, since I had not actually died.
With that thought, my friend Cathy McCoon stepped forward. She had died of cancer some years before, after first losing an arm. Cathy was absolutely vibrant in life and full of spiritual conviction. We were good friends and I visited her in the hospital, after her arm had been removed. I was concerned and anxious to help, if only to lift her spirits. Foolishly, I leaned over and gave her a hug, which proved to be very painful for her. The expression on her face stayed with me for a long time. She of course, held no bad feelings. That just wasn’t Cathy. Her eventual death was difficult for me to accept, and I didn’t attend the funeral. But now she twirled around for my benefit, and showed me both arms to demonstrate that she was now whole. Her job at this terminal was as a greeter, helping to calm the confused arrivals.
The endless lines were grouped according to background, religion, attitudes, and general belief system. People gathered according to their expectations of the afterlife, and were led to environments that supported those beliefs. Gradually, new arrivals would begin to understand that the afterlife includes much more than they were taught or came to believe on their own. They could then explore any areas that their state of awareness would allow. Essentially, the only limitations are our own beliefs and expectations.
The people who have the most difficult time adjusting, are the ones who expect to be “the chosen ones” who would hold some spiritual position above the rest of the “unbelievers.” It was funny to watch the arrogant important people indignantly stand in line next to the humble folk who were indigent, or homeless, or even just lower middle class. The self professed “higher ups” couldn’t understand why they were being forced to keep company with those of lower social and intellectual standing. The truth is, they were not being forced. At that level of expression in the afterlife, “like attracts like”, and although they couldn’t see it, they had many shared attitudes with the other people in line.
I’ve learned there are many levels to the afterlife, and this experience represents just one of them. I think it’s comforting to know that we survive beyond this life. Its reassuring as well to think that what we do here can affect our understanding of events there later on.
Filed under: The Other Side
