According to some, with some including me, before we step
foot cell into our mothers’ wombs, we make a contract with God that stipulates our begin and end dates on this side of the earth.
I used to have a hard time dealing with death until I accepted this version of it. The belief that I’m a part of the death decision-making process is more soothing, empowering and, actually, more Godly to me than the belief that God will steal my life like a thief in the night. (God? A thief? In the night? No, thank you.)
So, when I got the news several hours ago that one of my childhood friends’ end date was, in fact, yesterday, I nodded and took some measured breaths.
She was ready to go, I thought.
Then, being the egocentric that I can often be, I turned my thoughts to me.
Now what was that end date that God and I decided on again?
After a short while of coming up empty, I took some more breaths, savoring them a little more than I had earlier in the day.
Well, I’ll probably remember the closer the date comes, I finally thought.
And such is life. You’ll know what you need to know when you need to know it. Hmm. Nothing encapsulates life quite like death. And yet, I don’t think death puts a cap on life at all.
“To truth there is no error. To life there is no death.” ~Walter Starcke
From my understanding, Starcke is saying that what looks like an error, against the backdrop of truth, is not so. Since we’re all born in truth – knowing truth, having truth, being truthful – any “error” that we encounter is really only a light whose purpose is to illuminate truth even more. Therefore, there is no real error because everything always points back to truth. (We’re all about that truth, ’bout that truth, no error.)
Similarly, there is no real death. No, my friend is no longer living on this side of the earth as I knew her, but that does not mean that her life has stopped because life, itself, has not stopped. In fact, life hasn’t stopped since it began. And what we generally call “death,” and “birth,” for that matter, are really only “life” transmuting into another form of “life.”
Thus, my sadness at my friend’s departure from her old life is soothed by my belief that she has arrived at her new one. Not stolen, but empowered. Not dead, but sleeping.
Live in peace, Jamese.
Copyright © 2014-2016 Stephanie Rochelle Redd. All rights reserved.