The awesome thing about death

Bright space widescreen“I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.”
― Rabindranath Tagore

Experiencing a single lifetime via past life regression offers a profusion of wisdom but usually one central theme is highlighted. This theme is the reason you have been drawn to a particular life. It illuminates the wisdom that will most benefit you in your current life and circumstances.

There is one recurring theme which all lives (past, present and future) address: the theme of death.  Past life regression includes processing the death experience and evaluation from an expanded awareness, outside of the body. This is very good news. Most of us are fearful of dying.  We are taught to fear death by our own survival instincts and through both culture and religion. One of the very awesome things about death is that we all get to experience it!  Death is universal and guaranteed. When looking to kickstart your self-inquiry journey, death is fertile territory.


My final regression at the workshop where I was first hypnotized explored the theme of service — yet it was the death experience which impacted me most profoundly, or rather, the post-death experience.

When instructed to go to a second past life I panicked, convinced I would revisit the same life I had just left. This doubt in my ability to regress continued for several years despite all evidence to the contrary.

Regardless of my palpitating heart and adrenaline surging, the murky darkness DID coalesce into something unique: a planet of murky darkness.


This planet is brown and dead.  Seriously dead, devastated by war. Covered in dead bodies. There is no plant or insect or any living thing. The bodies are humanoid but small.  All male.  There is a huge central trench and various groups of women in brown robes (approx. 35 total) are tending the bodies, moving them into the trench in orderly lines.  We are not from here.  This is not our home. These are not our people.  We belong to an order of women who devote their lives to service of others and we have volunteered to come and bury the dead.

The bodies are a little smaller with brown skin, dark hair.

I feel peaceful, resolute, purposeful. We live in crude circumstances with no amenities. The food is brown and bland.  The “celebration” I am instructed to go to is a funeral procession for one of the women. This is as fun as it gets.

The wisdom of this life:  Be of service; service is sacred.

The value of sacred service has become a guiding principle for my life. To be of service is validation enough for being alive. More than enough.


Then…something crazy happened. Deus ex machina.  I am instructed to “go to the end of the life.” Immediately a huge, silver, bullet shaped ship lands in our burial area.  This object is so incongruent that my conscious Sarah mind can’t make any sense of it. Yet in the brown robe clad body, I feel calm and… expectant.  I realize I have been instructed regarding this eventuality and for the first time since our arrival on this planet, I feel excitement.

Standing next to the ship, my hands run over the hull.  It is smooth and shiny, the only shiny thing I have seen, possibly ever.  Suddenly the doors open and black clad soldiers emerge.  Without a single word or hint of ceremony, they open fire and execute us all.

Now here is the awesome part:

Before our bodies hit the dirt, we are flying fast and free.  Everything changes from brown drabness to a kaleidoscope of color and light.  I feel delighted, elated, exuberant!  It is the ultimate sensation of freedom.  I AM freedom.

Like this with a sensation of UP at high speed and the feeling of an ear splitting grin.

 

Oh how I wish I could accurately convey this sensation! The juxtaposition of a life well lived in deep and sacred service with the instantaneous sweet release into absolute freedom. Glorious soaring joy bursting from a rising flood of giddy anticipation.

Does this sound like the death you are expecting?

We experience the death experience we believe we will experience. Doesn’t it seem prudent to believe it spectacular?

 

 

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6 thoughts on “The awesome thing about death”

  1. Sarah – this is trouble. I just read all of your blog posts and I am sweating. It’s 8am and I thought I’d just have a quick read before starting to make breakfast and lunch for my kids – now I just yelled at everyone to leave me along – “mom’s working”.!!!!! (My home office is the mudroom off the kitchen!!!!) Crap -my youngest (7) just walked into the room with a big kick ass knife, thrilled that she is going to slice her own tomatoes for her sandwich – gotta go – but I will be back.
    Ever since you told me you were starting a blog I thought – how the hell will I ever be able to articulate the most profound life changing experience I had from your hypnotherapy sessions – in a friggin comment box!!! Do I sound angry?? No I’m just excited.

    1. Oh how I love you Nancy! You have all summer to write…perhaps wait until you have the trees and water and fresh air to inspire you!

  2. Hi, lovey. Well…..it sure would have been simpler if I’d had you back when I was having those rapid fire past life “situations” after Ian was born. Much less lock me up and throw away the key and more reflection and integration. Also what has been interesting is that the experience of my dad’s death is so far different from the experience of my mom’s. With my dad, I was clear that all was well where he was and that he was keeping an eye on us for awhile. He had things to do where he was. With my mom? Lets just say it hasn’t been the same experience. Hard to say if the experience is created by me or her. I still say that our whole gig was created on the other side of the veil late one night and it involved a bottle of wine….”Hey, Jean, wouldn’t it be a hoot if we….” Love you, love your work and your writing. Mwah!

    1. Every death is unique in detail…just as every life is. You are probably correct about that bottle of wine…..

  3. My experience with death in my one and only past life regression was that I was very old, living in an earthen hut, and died alone. It was the afterlife, however, that was pure ecstasy. I was met by these white stranded beings and encircled and lifted up somewhere where there were many of these hive live configurations of stranded white light beings. I felt comfort and pure joy. It was incredible.

    1. Ahhhhh. Yes. Words cannot describe this incredible feeling of comfort and joy. I wish this experience for every living being so they may truly KNOW they are loved. Not as an idea but as an experience. It is life changing.

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