by M. R. THOMAS
“I chose to be here; you see I no longer have a physical body, I departed that a long, very long time ago. I enjoy this level of existence, I choose to stay and guide others who pass through, or like you, those who develop a capacity to come here while retaining the physical aspect of their body”.
“What do you mean?”
“This astral plane is the next conscious level after the physical, before we pass beyond and into the afterlife”.
“I’m not sure I can fully get my head around this”, said Abbie, “It’s all a bit mad”.
“No not mad, but very real. At the most emotionally-intense time of your life, when your physical being could not contain your grief, your spirit simply broke free. That is a unique gift Abbie, to come here as you are doing, but you must understand it is for a purpose, a greater good, but I’m not sure you can take that in yet”.
Then in an instant another bright light appeared nearby, giving off a warm glow. It also beckoned a welcome to Abbie, and she looked at it intensely as it changed and transformed in front of her to the shape of an elderly lady, not wrinkled or weather-beaten but mature and beautiful.
“This is my wife, Sarah,” said Isaac, “She also helps and guides others too”
Sarah smiled at Abbie but did not speak, merely nodded.
“What were you about to say, Isaac, about me not taking it in?”
“Are you sure you are ready to hear this?” Isaac asked.
“She is ready”, replied Sarah, “she will understand. I can tell by looking at her, she is ready and wants this”.
“What do I want? What do you mean? What is it?” Exclaimed Abbie. She was aware that she felt excited, a deep level of excitement somehow within her very spirit.
“Well” said Isaac, “sometimes when a person dies, shall we say when they leave their physical body, it can be before their time, they do not wish it, but it is out of their control. Often at that immediate moment before the physical body dies, a person’s consciousness can leave their body, and they enter here, the astral plane. Often these souls become stuck here and they are so disturbed, their wish to return to the physical so strong that they can sometimes break through, back into their physical world. The people there, sometimes loved ones, often sense or see them, and refer to them as ghosts or apparitions”.
Abbie could not speak, but listened intently.
“You my dear” said Isaac, as Sarah reached out to touch her, “You lost someone very dear to you. The pain you have felt has been almost unbearable for you, but you must understand this: Peter was taken before his time, and before he was ready. He is here, he has tried to get back to you but has not been able to, and not everyone can return to the physical. I know that he has spoken to you, maybe you heard him?”
“I think that maybe I did” said Abbie, “maybe once, yes, I did didn’t I? That time in the bedroom. He’s also felt very close to me at times but I thought I was imagining it”
“He is close to you, he needs you to help him, to leave this in-between place to move on and find rest”.
Abbie felt a deep tug of joy inside her, she thought she was maybe crying, but then realised that she wasn’t; she was warm peaceful and calm, but with a zeal and excitement that sparked in her being.
‘”What you have experienced, these physical sensations have all been your unconscious mind trying to remove itself from your body to come here, and you have, more than once, even if before it was ever so briefly”.
Abbie was spellbound.
“Peter is here, really? I’m not dreaming?”
“No dream” said Sarah, “look down”
So Abbie did, and far below her and the thin line of light connecting her physical body to her astral being, she could see her own bodily self in the bed below her, it was like looking in the top of a dolls’ house with the roof off.
“No dream” said Sarah, but we cannot say where Peter is exactly, you will have to find him, or he will find you; he will know your presence”.
“We will meet you again”, she said’, then in a moment they were both gone.
Abbie was alone, but this held no fear for her; she looked around in this bright glowing tranquillity. This must be the edge of heaven, she thought.
By her own will she could move around freely, at times she was aware of other astral beings passing her: some looked purposeful, others looked lost, but even they seemed to carry a sense of peace with them.
Abbie did not speak, just continued to move freely about, relishing the sensations; how long she was there and how far went she was unsure. Her unconscious had helped her, it had transformed Isaac and Sarah into familiar beings to help her understanding of what was happening. The space all around her did not alter; it was glowing and bright, a restful and peaceful place.
Could this place really help her? she wondered.
“Peter, are you really here?” she said out loud.
But only silence prevailed.
Chapter 9
When Abbie opened her eyes, the bedside clock read 6.30 am, and she looked around the bedroom; Peter’s dressing gown still lay on the bed. She lay motionless, staring at the ceiling, enjoying the feeling of complete restfulness, and she moved her fingers and toes - all connected and working, she thought.
Abbie took a deep breath. All this felt real, it felt familiar and normal. She looked at the window, darkness lingering outside. She heard the central heating click on, and she lay under the covers wondering whether it had all been a dream.
She genuinely could remember everything that had happened, but she didn’t know if it had been real, she just didn’t know.
Then the scripture came back to her, the one that she read the other day, the one made her feel so calm after the funeral; the same calm as she had felt in that other place, in that other dimension. She put on her bedside lamp and reached for the Bible, opened the page where the ribbon marker lay, and read from St John Chapter 14.
‘Let not your heart be troubled: believe in God, believe also in me. In my father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there you may be also’
After reading this again, Abbie lay back down in the snugness of the bed covers and thought this is it, it’s beginning to make sense now: that other dimension, the astral plane, is one of the many mansions, it truly is the edge of heaven, and soon, oh, I hope so soon, that I’ll meet Peter there.
Abbie decided that to help her understand, and more importantly, to help her remember all these experiences she needed to begin to write them down. So later that morning she sat with her pen poised and began recording events in the form of journal, trying her best to remember when these things first happened, what she was doing, and also her thoughts relating to the experience at the time, her concern or fear, or her being at peace with it.
After about an hour Abbie had already produced a significant amount of information, and she logged on to the PC to search more about astral projection. There were many sites offering explanations although a lot were very wordy and required detailed reading, something she did not feel able to commit to just now; she just wanted a snapshot of information, a quick guide of what, where, why, and how.
She didn’t find what she looked for though; did it exist? She wondered. Some of the information seemed, even by her own new standard of open-mindedness, somewhat out there, even a bit crazy.
But then she thought, you get craziness in any form of life or circumstance maybe the best idea is just to find my own way through this, in my own time.
What did make her stop and pause just before turning off the PC was what she read on one of the final internet pages she searched: the suggestion that all people travel to the astral plane after death before moving on. That totally tied in with what Isaac had explained to her. Maybe Isaac if he did exist was best placed to assist her further?
She pondered, and
wondered about how often and for how long she could travel there. She was aware that emotions had played a huge part in this, and maybe her adrenaline levels too, especially when out running, but her mind also was a significant factor, as in the supermarket during that panic episode; she was aware of really concentrating in order to stop anything happening. She no longer felt fear about this, only a real desire to go and find Peter.
Could she do this at will, like right now? Or did her body have to be energised to do that by being either relaxed or at extreme levels of exertion?
………………………………………………..
Abbie sipped her hot tea as she looked out of the kitchen window at the rain steadily falling against a backdrop of dark autumnal clouds.
Then a very real and paranoid thought entered her head that stopped her dead in her tracks. The intensity and the power of the grief that she had experienced had already driven her mad, she thought; she just had been too wrapped up in herself to notice.
This idea shocked her. She felt sane, able to understand what was going on at all times, aware of her surroundings; she could look after herself and had no difficulty communicating with people. She generally could do as she wished with no problems. Admittedly, the panic in the supermarket the other day concerned her but the doctor had explained that as emotional anxiety and quite common. She was not seeing or talking to pink elephants and she certainly didn’t think herself as Mary, mother of Jesus or something, so no major delusions there. Just the fact that she was now able to transport her consciousness to another dimension and see dead people; no, she thought surely nothing mad about that?
About midday, Abbie realised that her appetite had deserted her completely as she had not yet eaten. She quickly did herself a round of whole-wheat toast, but the texture was too rough for her and after only a few bites she threw it into the bin.
Abbie walked and paced the house in an agitated state, trying continually to put her thoughts in order and formulate a plan, but any sense of logic and constructive thought process would not happen; her mind just went round in circles until she felt very distressed, and somewhat out of her depth.
As a diversion Abbie opened some post that had arrived earlier: some were circulars addressed to the occupier, one for sponsoring children in Third world countries and one for insurance for the over 50’s.
Two envelopes looked important though and she recognised one as being from her bank; Abbie considered not opening it but then changed her mind and pulled out the typed letter, which confirmed that the insurance cover to the mortgage on the house had been applied and the debt paid in full.
So, she was now mortgage-free, a major achievement, but the reality of this didn’t take hold in the way she would have wished; if only circumstances had been different…
The second letter was from the life insurance company, paying her a life insurance cheque for the sum of £50,000. She tossed it on to the table; she was by all accounts considerably better off than she had been a few weeks ago, but without Peter none of this mattered.
Abbie felt a distinct level of distress building within her, uncertainty, confusion and doubt. Her thoughts were racing, then in a moment for the first time that day she thought of going for a run. Suddenly though she wondered, what if something happens? Then let it happen, she decided, I need this space and activity for me.
After a few minutes of stretching, the rain was still heavy as she set of for the park. Puddles had formed and she knew wet feet were guaranteed, but at least maybe the park and the hill would be quiet although it was early afternoon, she did not want to be bothered with other people. She felt that she didn’t have the capacity for anyone just now; dealing with herself was hard enough.
Abbie’s legs quickly became damp with rain and wetness was seeping in through the sole of her left trainer. Once into her running rhythm however she felt very comfortable, it was as though her mind began to relax, as if outside of the confines of the house walls it was no longer restricted by all her anxieties.
She focused on her breathing and also running strides, dodging water-logged areas of the park, but the grass was very wet underfoot. She was aware of perspiration on her forehead under her woollen hat, and warmth throughout her body. She realised that she had forgotten her water bottle, but then today that didn’t seem to surprise her at all, and despite not having eaten she felt strong and physically able.
On the bottom of the hill path Abbie knew today was going to be a big effort, but she was psyched up for it; it would not hurt her today. She refused to look up at the hill summit, setting her gaze only on the path a few feet ahead of her. Steadily and slowly she thought, but the gradient kicked in and tugged at her leg muscles, making them tired and sore. Her breathing became more rapid and her heart was beating strongly, blood pumping around her system.
Steady, steady, she said to herself, as though somehow this would help her to pace herself and not overdo it.
At just past the halfway point where the gradient increased again Abbie now began to struggle, and she dug deep into her energy reserves, lifting her head and looking up at the top of the hill. She tried with all her might to lift her aching legs and take larger strides, but she couldn’t; burning muscle pain swamped her body and, her breathing out of control and dizziness rapidly filling her head, she had to stop short of the summit. She was pleased though as this was the furthest she ever had got. She began to walk the final part of the path, gasping for air as the rain continued to poor down.
After a few metres Abbie picked up her pace and start running again, her speed did quicken but the gradient proved too much. She was getting very tired very rapidly, all sense of power seeping from her limbs as she pumped her arms and legs, willing herself to go faster, until again she was barely moving and she accepted that the hill and its gradient had defeated her.
Abbie continued to walk with her hands on her hips, taking rapid mouthfuls of air. At the summit she gazed back down the path. She wondered how many times she had attempted this run now, 3 or 4 maybe, she didn’t know. How much longer would she be incapable of running these final 200 metres or so? She felt a sense of failure creep in, that despite her best efforts this was not enough, and maybe it would never be, maybe physically this was beyond her ability.
Abbie stood and, as her breath returned, she began to cry, she couldn’t stop it; her life she thought was doomed to misery and failure, in everything. She was soaked to the skin, her body damp but hot beneath her clothes, her hair wet inside her woollen hat, and she now hurt both inside and out.
Abbie knew that she had reason to feel this bad, but even if it killed her, even if she was never able to run this up hill, she was not going to stop trying, no, never. Likewise there was vague opportunity that she may be able to see Peter again, even if it was imagined or dreamt, and as long as it seemed real, as long as it felt real she would not give up. Never, even if she descended into utter madness, this was too precious to stop.
…………………………………………………………….
Later that day, when she had showered, dressed and finally forced herself to eat something, Abbie decided that now was the time to deal with the one thing she had been avoiding for days; she didn’t want to do it, not ever, but her mother’s persistence had paid off: it was time to pick up the ‘phone and speak to Peter’s parents.
Abbie knew deep down that they too would not want this difficult conversation either, but the cruel circumstance of life that had pushed them together at this time made it necessary.
Peter’s father answered the ‘phone and Abbie was glad it was him and not Peter’s mother. After they had exchanged the usual pleasantries, Abbie explained what she was planning regarding her return to work the next week. She knew from the clipped responses that he thought it was too soon, and she could picture Peter’s mother snivelling into her handkerchief in the background: how could she possibly have recovered so soon if she had really loved him?
Well she had; she
still did love him and always would, and she had not recovered, not at all, she thought to herself. Somehow she was beginning to take the first steps in repairing her shattered existence, and it felt fragile; Abbie believed at times that she would never fully recover, that she would learn to live with this but never recover.
Abbie guessed that Peter’s father was sensible enough to know the real reason for the call; he admitted that he had wanted to call her but had not yet, not wanting to bring it up and upset her further.
So she was not the only one avoiding such things, Abbie thought.
It was quickly agreed that Peter’s father would do what needed to be done and collect the ashes from the crematorium. Abbie found the strength to admit that as yet she was very unsure of what to do with them, there was no real rush after all was there? Peter’s father stated he understood her difficulty, but Abbie knew that his mother would be condemning her through her pantomime weeping and saying that she was depriving her son of a final resting place. Abbie was actually beginning to admit to herself that she genuinely did not like this woman and she could no longer pretend. She knew that she thought her not good enough for her son, to the extent that she was probably cursing her for disregarding ‘her’ son and his memory, denying him a proper resting place.
Then she thought, sod her, he is my Peter and has been for years. I want and need him close to me and I don’t care what anyone thinks. Anyway, there was no unspoken rule that ashes have to be scattered within any given time frame, was there?
When the call ended, to her surprise her hands were shaking and she felt very jittery; her legs seemed incapable of supporting her weight as she moved towards a chair to sit down. She was aware of her breath being very rapid and shallow and she felt light headed, she was on the verge of tears with a deep tight knot in her abdomen. She curled up on the chair and cried heavily. She was not sure why she was responding in this way, but tears rolled down her cheeks and sobs racked her body, she felt disorientated with grief and emotion. Her head began to hurt and she had a sense of dizziness and being off-balance although sitting down.
