“It is through gratitude for the present moment that the spiritual dimension opens up.” – Eckhart Tolle
What if I said, heaven and hell had no place in the afterlife? What if I said, that we all just become formless–– wandering about the world? What if I said, that the house we grew up in or the home we lived in right up until the day we died ––the one that we paid the mortgage on for 30 years didn’t count on the other-side?
What if I said, that there isn’t a hierarchy in this sacred space? What if I said, the people we hate live in our house, invisibly watching our every move? Do you think we all just float up or down depending on how much good or bad we contribute to the world? Don’t we have enough to worry about let alone trying to figure out what will happen on some random day in the future, near or far?
Will we ask ourselves, what really matters when our body melts away? How will we go; without realizing it, will we make a sudden move to notice that we’re a little lighter than before? In that moment will we see ourselves slumped over like an ill-fitting coat that we just tossed away? Will we panic and rush back to our side, like the hermit crab too scared to strike out to find a more fitting shell, so we hide behind our lifeless body like a naked soul until we’re found out?
There we’ll be without any second chance, without anyone to tell, shifting invisibly from one place to another living among the physical realm. Our own mother afraid to admit that she feels us next to her. We will be too new to know how to express ourselves without our body. We will be too new to send warnings about impeding danger. We will be too new to know how to clear the house of strangers and enemies living invisibly among our loved ones. We will be too new, so we still view them as people with high and low status.
We will still function as if we still had limbs, it’s easier that way. Even a newly severed hand feels functional. Even the amputated leg still kicks at the air. Even the dead dress themselves and mock a routine that no longer serves them––visiting old friends and love ones.
What would it all be for in the end, a pastime? An amusement park we call Earth. Some rides lasting long enough to pull us through the birth canal. Some rides taking forever, round and round like a merry-go-round. Then there are some rides that take us straight ways lasting well into retirement, but of course the lines are longer and some figure too long of a ride to wait. Plus, they heard that it’s not worth it in the end; you get off with a headache and the re-entry takes too long. Why make a fuss if we all just end up at the same end? Some don’t ride at all, they’d rather hear about it and that’s a ride in itself without the pain of dizzy spells or abandonment issues.
Who is the mastermind behind this Earth Park? Every engineer that stands in line, of course. Everyone fooling themselves that they know how to make the park more interesting. Everyone believing in teamwork until they’re next in line switching amniotic fluid for air and what was before fades away with our purpose dissipating in the air. A purpose where all for one, one for all is lost on forgetfulness, but those invisible spirits keep rooting for us, their fantasy-like football team MVP of a lifetime. Will we remember to get the golden ticket and turn on the light of this world and tear the curtain that separates the blind from the seers?