It was so easy. So smooth.
Dropping upward... like slipping from a limp grasp, from a lifeless hand, and falling... upward. Escaping a tight restricting husk. Metamorphosis. Sweet release and complete relief.
Drifting upward. Ever upward.
Why had I clung so tenaciously to that mortal husk? Why? Was it so dear, so precious? The smell of fear was on it like stale sweat. The husk felt pain. The husk was fragile. So dirty. And weak.
And now the husk was dead. It just lay there. Still and crumpled. Defeated. Deflated. Already the corruption of the flesh that had slowly killed it worked to eventually consume it. As the fluids stagnated and congealed, the solids collapsed in upon the hollow core. Hollow now. Empty.
But what did I care? The husk lay behind me. The sky wide open before me. Or was it the sky? It was space... or spacious. It had space. It was real... but not terrestrial. I recognized sounds, voices singing... myriad voices raised in praise. The music gave the space both substance and scope. A symphony of voices audible and clear, but not loud or overpowering.
And there were people... well, beings. Some I’m sure had been here all along. Others, like myself, relatively new, passing from one reality to the next. That reality to this one. A new reality... at least new to me. This place, this space, was real, and always had been. Ancient without being old. Timeless but new every morning.
Giving your heart to others by listening to their heart
When you grow a leader who values people you help the whole world