Life Beyond the Physical Plane
Science tells us that nature abhors a vacuum. When we die, we do not turn to dust and bleached bones in the ground. Dust and bones are merely the remains of the body. Our body is the vehicle that houses and transports our soul while we are here on earth. While the remains of the body are ours, those remains are not who we are. This is a crucial distinction.
At death, the electromagnetic energy field that contains the spirit/soul/mind is no longer tethered to the physical plane by the physical body. When we die, the invisible silver cord linking the soul to the body is broken, and the soul returns to its home on the astral plane. Where we go in the astral worlds when we leave the body at death depends on how much or how little spiritual light we built into our system while we were here.
In this world, the soul is hidden and clothed in flesh. In the higher worlds, the soul stands revealed in its own light. That light is the real body of the soul. The brighter the light, the more powerful and evolved the soul has become.
The Story of Paula and Ted
My friend Paula once told me the story of her husband Ted’s death. Ted had been in declining health for a long time, and one day he had a heart attack. Paula called 911. The medics arrived quickly and were able to revive him. Paula, of course, was greatly relieved. Ted, however, was not. After he recovered, he scolded Paula.
“Listen,” he said in the no nonsense manner that was his trademark, “the next time that happens don’t try to bring me back.”
“Why Ted?” Paula asked him, a hint of panic in her voice.
“Paula, I was out of my body, experiencing more peace than I ever knew existed. I was in a very bright place. It was so light and so beautiful, better than anything I ever experienced here, I’ll tell you that. I’m not afraid to die now. I love you very much, Paula, and I don’t want to leave you behind, but my time is coming soon. I know it, and you know it. It won’t be much longer. That’s just the way it is. You promise to let me go next time, Paula? No more calls to 911?”
“Okay Ted,” Paula told him reluctantly. “I promise.”
A few months later Ted had another heart attack. This time Paula stilled her panic and remembered her promise. Instead of reaching for the phone, she reached for Ted’s hand and held him as he died.
“Alan,” she told me years later when she could talk about losing Ted without emotion, “when Ted died, I could see his spirit rise out of him and go up through the ceiling.”
“What did it look like?” I asked her.
“It was a long strand of silvery white light,” she replied without hesitation. “And that’s not all. When he left his body there was a feeling of deep peace in the room. Knowing that he was at peace made his death a lot easier for me to bear. It also helped me let go of my own fears about dying.”
Life is hard and unrelenting, and will always challenge us to grow. As Ted was fond of saying, “That’s just the way it is.”