The soul has wings that bring it forth into the wonder we know as Life, it comes to us from the Sommerlands, from Heaven, from the Unknown. In this state of Life, it can laugh, cry, awaken, mourn, create, frustrate, hope… love. Maybe sometimes the soul isn’t always ready for these wonders, it can be pretty overwhelming to be born, (or reborn) but when does choose to come forth into our marvelous, tumultuous, inspiring little world it is a truly amazing experience. I know this because I have given birth and I knew the moment I looked into Damian’s eyes that his radiant soul knew it too. Who knew one tiny blue speck in the vastness of the universe could harbor such amazing potential?
Life, as we known it, begins and ends, what comes before or after is a mystery to most. I know the soul exists, the evidence is in my dreams, Damian’s soul came to me on wings. I accept that come people don’t agree, some people see my evidence as simple faith but my faith makes all things possible. I definitely believe in the divine, maybe not a single omnipotent being, but I believe that there are sacred forces out there that are worthy of my respect.
To me Life is most certainly only one side of a coin, the Mystery is the other. Death (and Birth) I suppose is that thin edge connecting the two. It is a turning point, a veil, obscuring the great beyond. Many of us feel apprehension as we look at Death (and as we wait for a Birth too.) Why, do we fear the Mystery? To people of faith, we might feel an understanding of the Mystery, but even we see the transition as daunting and sometimes terrifying, both to watch and experience.
Everything must eventually die. From the body the soul takes flight once more back into the Mystery, into the embracing, welcoming and joyous light of the divine. For some, the ancestors who have not yet returned to Life will be there to greet them under the golden apple trees of the Sommerlands, for others all their loved ones in Heaven as well as God will be there with open arms. I know those I love and who have crossed over look back at us and smile. They send their love and check in from time to time.
Birth is a celebration, the midwifing a beautiful soul into our world. It is a mysterious and wondrous transition. Death is also mysterious but should it be celebrated? Sometimes the dieing are fortunate enough to be comforted, to be midwifed back into the Mystery, surrounded by those who love them. We hold varying degrees of rituals and celebrations for those who pass on. I do think some kind of farewell is necessary, if only to bring comfort to our own souls.
I had a dream last night, and echo of one I had when I was a few months pregnant, when I condor brought me Damian’s soul. I watched the condor as it lead a shinning flying soul into the starlit sky and the light of that soul grew as it rose, a blazing lantern at first, then a radiant sun, then an all colorful shifting blue and gold light, the aura that which faded into a streaking shooting star passing over the horizon of our Wild Old Mama Earth.
I knew I had to share the dream when I woke up, so here we are at the end of my post. I am a bit lacking for some form of eloquent conclusion so I will share I little Eskimo legend I heard once that seems strangely fitting with that dream.
On the darkest nights, near the stairway from Earth to the Sky (the constellation we know as Orion,) the ancestors come out to dance. The stars are the lights around their dance floor and they are the Gulla, the aura. They are letting us know that they are happy.