When I dream I hardly ever see my face, such as in a mirror,
let alone my body.
“To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream ....” What
if Shakespeare's idea about what may happen after death is right? What if each and every dream during life foretells
the array of experiences – some ghastly, with emotional distress but no
physical harm; many pleasant; some fabulously funny; some blissful; all
interesting – the soul has after death of the body?
One perspective on dream interpretation, one theory, is that
everything in a dream represents the dreamer.
What if each dream shows the dreamer his or her connection to – being a
part of – all things? And, if we are all
connected, each of us a leaf on the tree of life, why should we expect all of
whatever post-death experiences we have to be idyllic, any more than we expect
all of our dreams to be so?
My definition of heaven is the experience, however fleeting, that everything is all right just the
way it is. If there is a life of the spirit
after bodily death, perhaps the shedding of bodily limitations permits a view
of Life, including all earthly lives and the earthly environment, that is of
such a grand scale that acceptance of what we left behind will be easier than
now seems possible. However, I would
rather experience a heaven of perfect compassion, including for lives left
behind, than a heaven of perfect but ignorant and compassionless bliss. So I expect, for me, there will be sadness in
heaven, just as in this life. But, as
there is now, there will be love and grace to console me.
