Death is life might not make sense at first.
My husband and daughter were killed in a terrorist attack in the city of Mumbai. But they are not dead to me. How could they be dead? Yes, their bodies were shot and had to be autopsied and then cremated. To fully accept the loss I had to fully feel it, to let my heart melt into a million tears. The old me dissolved in the process and I felt like I was dying while still alive. I wasn’t courageous in this surrender, I simply had no choice because it was so big I couldn’t possibly resist this one.
I survived and I am still here. Not the same, but still here. The more I accept that Alan and Naomi are gone in human form I can feel their spiritual presence envelope me with such pure love. When I allow myself to melt into that, I am transformed. It is pure positive energy. It’s more than a memory, more than nostalgic longing.
When I think of them as dead I feel sad. Such a tragic loss is true on one level, there is no denying that and I have felt it. But if I open my lens of perception to consider they are alive in another way, in a subtler form, their essence feels very much alive. This brings a smile to my face even as I write this. Warmth fills my heart with joy. Love is to ready to flow at any moment. How open am I to receiving?
I have come to see that death is the transition to another form of life. It’s just as we see in the seasons year after year – fall, winter, spring and summer. So simple. It just requires open acceptance, willingness and surrender to what is. Relaxing into that space is pure love.