Monday, January 18, 2016

We Are the Soul Eggs

Egg World -- BradleyBlazed
David Bowie's death a little over a week ago has had me thinking a lot about mortality. As is the case when such things are on my mind, I've been having some odd dreams. Some of them make sense and others? Not so much.

The other night I dreamed about the nature of the soul. It was something that lived in a little egg inside of your chest. As you approached the time of your death, you felt the little creature inside the egg starting to stir as it prepared to be born. Then when your time actually came, it would pass through the front of your chest with this tremendous explosion of energy -- a little like a cough. The soul itself looked exactly like a tiny bird made of yellow light and would go flying toward heaven without any fear or confusion. It just knew where it was, where it was going, and why. It was the person at their most evolved and complete.

Unlike a lot of people, I dream about my own death a lot, but rarely in a scary or negative way, so I'm not surprised that I dreamed about the moment my soul egg hatched. The night before, I knew it would happen soon because the little light bird inside was incredibly active, trying to break free. It twisted and pecked at the shell of the egg, very eager to be hatched. It felt odd emotionally -- both the saddest you ever felt and the most hopeful you ever felt all at once.

I spent a long time telling Seth how much I loved him because of how strongly I could feel the bird. Then the next morning, I was making breakfast in a red dress and the egg hatched. My body dropped to the floor like a pile of old rags and I zoomed out of my own chest as this bird. I still remember the feeling -- very odd, but not negative in the least. I wonder if David Bowie felt anything like that when his time came. Maybe. Perhaps he'll tell me one day if he decides he feels like it.
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