I can't sleep.
I am wondering where she is........not her body of course; that's easy enough to answer, but her essence, her energy, her soul....you choose your spiritual lingo.
Recently, my seven year old niece comforted her teary eyed mama with the words, "Don't be sad about Grammy. She's in heaven. She's happy there. She's having fun!"
This reminded me that I used to know as a kid. She was in heaven; a beautiful, serene alter universe somewhere high above the sky, above space even. She'd be surrounded by friends and family who had already stamped their passports and immigrated to the new land. I often envisioned them gathered around a long, obtrusive dining table. It's dark, solid wood fighting to dominate the room; trying tirelessly to turn it's patrons into miniatures of themselves. It doesn't work. These people are larger than their former selves, not physically, but something big and luminous is definitely radiating from within. It's as if everyone in this new place had been indoctrinated with lightness and contentment. The room is stuffed with happiness; the laughter is raucous and heartfelt. The food looks exquisite and of course there is wine (we are Italian after all....even in seven-year-old heaven). It reminds me of an indulgent, medieval feast and, as a child, this brought me much comfort. Heaven. A revolving door of giant re-unions. So many infact, that they quickly become just "unions" deeming the "re" obsolete.
So then I grew up.......a little.
I don't think I am jaded or subscribing to the "Negative Nellie" way of life when I say that my seven-year-old version is a little to bubblegumesque for the adult me to swallow.
I chuckle as I now envision a long line of new recruits approaching the gates of Heaven, nervously and suspiciously shuffling towards the guard. Their left sleeve is rolled up and their bare arms outstretched. As the passports are stamped and the entry visas distributed, a syringe is nonchalantly jabbed into the unsuspecting newcomer and the happy serum is successfully injected.
Hmmmmm.
This heaven is closely resembling that of a prison camp.
And what about all that "happiness"? The seven-year-old girl doesn't realize how oppressive all that lollipop imagery can be. The happy happy was palpable in heaven's dining room. So much so that you needed gumboots to wade through it all. It was competing with the oxygen in the room and the adult me is simply suffocating. Bring on some brooding for desert so I can breathe.
Who am I kidding?....I AM jaded. Maybe my subconscious is filled with too many images of horrific atrocities that have gone on in THIS life. Or perhaps it is because I just read the highly entertaining, but seriously dark "Hunger Games" trilogy. Maybe it's just my mood or that it is 5:00 am and I need more coffee.
Whatever it is, I suspect my ID and EGO are having realationship trouble and my SUPEREGO ???....isn't he the gatekeeper or something? ......Must be taking the morning off.
At times, I am envious of those who have absolute faith in one religion. I actually am more comfortable using the word "way" and so I will do so here. I can't even commit to the WORD religion so you can see how deeply my predicament is rooted. Lets begin again.
At times, I am envious of those who have absolute faith in one way. They are on their journey equipped with a map. They have unwavering commitment and fortitude and a guide pointing them in a direction. Right now I am a map-less. My compass is in a frenzied state of relentless circling.
All I have is my travel journel with a few words scribbled down. It's all I am confortable with at this time.
The words are:
Way
Energy
Source
It's all I have but it's a start.
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