Residing in Heart Space

Nothing is ever finished. There is no finish line…
There is no ending place in this Eternal life we are all about.”

Abraham-Hicks

A preface: Death has become an all too familiar theme in the past year as we are surrounded by fear, loss, and unknowns. The pandemic has accelerated so many of these uncomfortable and painful conversations. It is a sensitive topic and every person has their own personal truth, experiences, and emotions tied to it. This post may resonate with you or perhaps it might not be right for you at this moment in your life. No matter where this writing finds you, I hope you find hope and love in the words because after being surrounded by grief and loss, this is the message that I felt needed to be shared.

What would you do if you could live forever? It’s an age old question. And a tricky one at that. 

That’s because we are eternal beings. Our souls go on forever. Always moving forward. Always seeking to expand. 

Many of us aren’t quite sure how or what to think about physical death, something that’s as inevitable as birth. One helpful way is to consider it more like a transition of our soul. A letting go of the physical body and returning to a purely spiritual being. In the blink of an eye, life continues on.

When someone you love transitions, the pain and grief you feel can be overwhelming. It’s like an unwelcome ending. Your loved one is no longer how – and where – you used to see them.  

But you can still find them, if you look to where they are now. And that’s within your heart space.

Eternal Beings are completely free, at peace and pure love. Their focus and attention often continues to be on those whom they loved here on earth.     

When I was a little girl, I recall our priest encouraging us to pray to our loved ones who’d passed on. He said they were always around us and eager to assist, waiting for an invitation to help.

For me, my go-to is my Grandma Emma. She would say we were like two peas in a pod. And then she’d add with a smile, “except for your driving” (which she always found a bit hair-raising). 

My happiest memories as a child were on the farm where she lived and worked with my grandpa. Growing-up it was a favorite family destination. I’d spend summer vacations with her, just us two. Time would fly quickly, filled with endless creative exploits and her full focus and attention on me. When Grandma passed in 1990, she was the first person I really grieved. 

It was years later after my first marriage ended when I felt her presence return.There were signs she was around. Egging-on the pugs, Louie and Junie. Looking after the house and protecting me and the kids. She had my back, I knew that for sure. 

It’s interesting to explore how cultures celebrate this passing of life. Many see it not as a place of permanence. Death is not the end, rather a continuation of forward motion. 

My husband recently lost his oldest son Alex who was just 31. Alex’s forward movement here had stopped. The things life was offering no longer drew him forward. He’d done his loving and living, and was ready to be free from physical burdens. To again expand as a soul.

For the people who love him, time will eventually lighten the heavy grief. That’s when their pain can give way to love and when his spiritual presence will outshine his physical absence. 

Life will continue on but in a new way. 

There is joy in knowing there is no death. Souls are eternal and they remain interested and active in our lives long after they’ve left their physical bodies. They are closer and more present than ever before. Residing in heart space, participating with us on our journey, and assisting from a place of pure love. There lies the reason for happiness and for certainty.

There is no finish line as life inter-dimensionally goes on forever. It’s up to us to keep looking forward.