We are light beings that have stepped into bodies. Doesn't it make sense that when this physical body doesn't work anymore, we just step out of it? I remember telling this to my mother when I was just little. Maybe when we are little it's easier to let go because our tenacious hold on the physical isn't as hardwired?
I had a dream last night. In the dream I was driving a car. The car broke down. I kept turning the key, nothing. I called a garage, and they came and got it. The mechanic came out and shook his head. I realized that the car was done.
I patted the car on the fender. It was a red car. Still shiny, but it was tired. I could see that even though I had taken care of it, it was done. I shook his hand and left. I watched myself walk down a road.
I woke realizing that this was a dream about the physical death. And it was gentle. And it was sweet. And it was complete. I was still me. I got out of the car and went on. I might drive another car or not. I watched myself walk down the path, floating a bit, light speckling me as I walked.
I opened my eyes and laid in the dark for awhile then. I wondered who was about to die? Who had been asking this question? Who had I just sent that dream to, because it was a message. I was sending it to someone? Or was someone sending to me?
We just go on. It's not a big deal. It's not an end but rather a new chapter that begins.
2 comments:
love this metaphor for dying. I have been thinking about death lately and having this same realization. I have also been thinking about paintings with paths.
:)
It's just a new chapter! A faster, lighter way of being.
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