I was thinking about my Mom this morning. It’s her birthday, although she’s been gone some 18-plus years. I miss her.
What I hold onto is a fact Albert Einstein taught us: energy can neither be created nor destroyed. And therefore, my Mom is not really gone. This thing we’ve labeled as death isn’t the end. Not really. This body we walk around in is a shell. A vehicle from which we experience life on earth. But when we die, our soul, our essence, our energy – our very being – lives on. It leaves the shell for parts unknown, and the shell is ultimately destroyed in one way or another unless, of course, you’ve arranged to be mummified or cryogenically frozen. Sadly, many of us destroy it long before we move on. We are temporary custodians of this body, and poor ones at that.
Point being, I find peace in knowing that the energy that was my Mom, the essence of her being, lives on, somewhere among the stars. She could be anywhere, anyone, anything, doing whatever she desires. The Universe is vast, and my Mom was always the explorer. A traveler, but not in the way you might envision. She didn’t go far. To work, to the store, for a walk. But from her couch, or her seat at the kitchen table, she traveled the world via books. A voracious reader. My Google before computers even existed. I felt like she knew a little something about everything. She loved knowledge simply for the sake of knowledge.
Knowledge and experience gained here, on earth, as humans, is added to the knowledge and experience of the Universe. Everything that happens here is shared with the vast primordial pool of energy. The people we share our lives with, those who walk beside us for a spell, share something with us before moving on to share with the vastness of the Universe. My Mom shared her knowledge with us. She shared the importance of observation, critical thinking, research, questioning. I think she knew life was so much more than the years spent in human form.
This personal belief leaves me with two conclusions. First, and most importantly, I take great solace in knowing my Mom lives on. Second, I feel it is important that I do everything I can to experience this life with eyes wide open. Take it in, explore it, and reserve judgment as much as possible (not that I’m necessary very good at that, but I try). I thank my Mom for all the wisdom she shared with me and my brother. And I’ve come to realize we’re all here for the ride called experience. We are all trying to learn from this life, while still learning to navigate it. And it’s up to us to make the most of it. Whether gallivanting around the world in jets and boats, or from the comfort and security of our couch.
Namaste 🙏
~jwb~