When I practice dying, I close my eyes, and I imagine. I enter the void. A transient in the station of non-existence. No sight, no sound. The only sensation is breathing sensation. Slowly, gently, subtle points of light pierce the veil. Then, with a sudden, silent explosion burst in full. Engulfed in a cosmic breeze my arms sweep back like wings of a peregrine in mid-dive. I sail through the stars, the cosmos, the majestic infinity with incredible celerity.
Navigating through the memories of existence, past, present, and future, I come before the untold gods and goddesses. Beautiful in their irradiant animal and human forms. They do not stand above, lofty or arrogant, but gather around me in the Enormity. Together, among the crystal columns supporting the Entirety. I bow in deference, then hold my head high—as they favor no genuflecting.
There is no judgment, no condemnation, nor praise. I offer no excuses as the phantoms of my crimes, slights, insults, and animosities, my insecurities, sorrows, and pain appear in the ether, mingling among us like guests at a ball. Faceless shadows of myself that suck the turmoil from my soul. Left undenied, these apparitions of my life fade like vapor drawn into the nether reaches.
There is no love nor hate in these realms—the concepts of humans. There is an alliance, ineffable solidarity among the Celestials. A oneness I cannot describe. And there is an outcome to determine; a decision by divine consensus. Do I remain, or do I return?
For now, I return.