In real life, although I have an acute ear for a wrong note, I cannot sing to save my life. Maybe this is why, every few years, I have a dream in which I am singing a wordless song of great beauty. A song which seems to heal everything around me. A song which is still sounding when I awake.
I have a very strong intuition that I’m not long for this incarnation. A few years, perhaps – maybe less. It’s not in the least dismaying – I just seem to know that my body is going to break at some point in the near future.
I don’t feel any need to go to the culture’s technical medicine men to get it fixed, either. I have run my race and have no family left to consider. My son I count as lost to me, and this is probably the best thing for him.
What struck me about my own attitude as compared to most incarnate humans around me is not just the lack of fear I have in facing off with death compared to others, but the absolute joy with which I am ready to embrace this dissolution.
The salts and fluids of this body to return to the Earth; the consciousness to turn at ninety degrees to everything else.
Grok Earth – pray without ceasing as the illuminated Sarah says. Even as you die, grok Earth and let the gentle rain and worms grok you.
There is no fear in letting go – my Lady has strong arms to catch me as I fall, once again, into Her embrace. Just as I held briefly to my mother when I was born into this world, so may I rest myself on Her rough and earthen skin when the time comes once again to free the God who was temporarily held captive within these walls of flesh.