Often, when I write, I find myself inspired by what comes from the other side. A thought arrives as a quiet flash, brief but clear, and when I rest my attention on it, it begins to unfold. I write it down quickly before it fades. What once came at random moments now tends to arrive in the early morning, when the world is still, and the silence feels welcoming. At times, these moments feel like responses to questions I had asked inwardly, long before any answer appeared. I continue to learn, day by day, as I move along this remarkable journey we call life.
I sometimes wonder about those who live alone, those who have spent their lives feeling separate or cut off from others. What happens to them when they cross over? Will someone be there to meet them, and if so, who?
The gentle truth is that no one is ever truly alone, not here, not beyond, not anywhere. Some people choose solitude, while others arrive there through circumstance, but everyone is met. Even those who lived quietly, or felt unseen are welcomed. There is always someone waiting. For those who prefer continued solitude, that choice is honored, on this side of life and the next.
And what of those who carried heavy burdens, those who struggled with mental illness, addiction, or deep emotional pain?
There is a special tenderness reserved for them. The other side meets vulnerability with patience and care. Healing unfolds gently, at a pace that feels safe, offering comfort and understanding before any return to wholeness. Those who suffered are never overlooked. They are held with particular kindness.
Is healing ever denied?
Healing is available to all, though it must be accepted freely. There is no judgment here, only service, offered with compassion and forgiveness. In that shared care, we become whole together, and this is what life is about.
