When our loved ones leave the physical plane, we often want to know if they have gone on to another plane of existence or what, if anything, happens after death. Some people sense or feel the presence of that loved one nearby after they have departed. Often in the mourning of this loss, we are searching for a way to understand what death is and how to deal with our grief.
There are many beliefs about what follows this life. Some hold that nothing awaits us at all, that life simply ends when the body dies. Others sense there is something more but cannot say what it is. In the Universal Understanding of the God Consciousness we teach that life does not end. Life always has been, is now, and forever shall be. For the one who grieves, knowing what a loved one is actually experiencing is the beginning of healing. So before we speak of our own grief, let us begin by following the one who has gone.
In Reincarnation and the Wheel of Life, we explored graduation and transition: that which is commonly called death is not an ending, but the soul’s release from a particular embodiment on the physical plane. When a soul completes its task upon the physical plane, it is freed from the body. The body is a vehicle for the expression of the mind of the soul, and it is retired once its journey is complete. The consciousness and the awareness that animated that body continue on with the soul into the astral planes of existence. For the one who has graduated, this is a homecoming.
There, we have an etheric body that appears much as our physical body did, and to those in the astral it is every bit as solid and tangible as our physical bodies are here on the physical plane. We carry with us the same personality and the same memories, and our loved ones already in the astral would recognize us. Over time, the etheric body gradually returns toward its prime, taking on the appearance we carried between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-five. Those who graduated in later years grow younger, and those who graduated young grow older.
Graduation comes to each of us in its own way, and the manner of our going reflects the karma we have accumulated, not our goodness or our worth. A soul that graduates quickly and suddenly in its natural time, as with a heart attack, has earned that swift passage. This is not a tragedy but a blessing, although for those left behind it rarely feels that way: the shock of a sudden graduation can make the grief harder to carry. A soul that endures a long illness before graduating simply has more karma to work through, karma that requires more time to resolve. Both paths are exactly what that soul’s journey required, and in either case, there is a peace that comes with being released from the confines of the physical body.
There is one manner of leaving that stands apart. In the Universal Understanding of the God Consciousness, we teach that the timing of graduation belongs to the soul alone. The soul chooses when we incarnate and the soul chooses when we graduate. The soul never brings us an experience we cannot overcome; however unbearable a moment may feel, we have the strength to meet it and to see it through. Life itself is the greatest gift the soul gives us, and to take one’s own life is to cast that gift aside and interrupt the soul’s plan. It is not an escape: the pain and torment we sought to leave behind are carried with us, and the one who does so faces a long and difficult period in the astral before the journey can continue. Yet even then, no one is ever abandoned. Teachers remain near, waiting for the first sign of readiness, and however long it takes, each one rises and goes on.
For those who suffered through an extended illness, the astral provides a place of healing. We are brought to a place of rest, where we enter a deep, restorative sleep while our consciousness recovers from the ordeal of the illness. How long this rest lasts varies from soul to soul: some of us wake quickly; others rest for a long while. Guides are present throughout, and when we awaken, they help us orient to our new surroundings.
But for those of us left behind, the question remains: what do we do with our grief? Grief is natural. It is not a failure of faith or of understanding, and no one should feel ashamed of mourning someone they love. But at a certain point, it is worth being honest about where our mourning comes from. When we grieve endlessly for someone who has graduated, we are mourning our own loss, not theirs. They are not lost and they are not suffering. And prolonged mourning does more than hold us in place; it becomes a tether. Our sorrow and longing reach the departed soul and pull at it, holding it back from the rest, the healing, and the growth that awaits it. Releasing our grief is the final act of love we can offer: we let them go so that they can go on.
The sense of a loved one’s presence that many people feel is often real. A departed soul may draw near to bring comfort, or reassurance that they are well. Receive that reassurance with gratitude, and then consciously release it so the soul can continue on its way. The visit is the gift; holding on to it holds them back.
We can also choose, when we are able, to celebrate the life rather than mourn the loss. A completed life, however long or short, is the finishing of a task the soul set out to accomplish, and there is something worth honoring in that, even through tears. And when someone we love graduates, we can send out a thought, a prayer, asking our own guides and teachers to go to that soul and help it through its transition. Anyone can do this, in any moment.
Once rested and recovered, the soul in the astral carries on. The plane of consciousness where each of us finds ourselves is governed by a simple principle: like unto like. We are drawn to the realm that matches our own consciousness, surrounded by those of a similar vibration. An angry or troubled individual will find themselves among others of that same state of mind, while an awakened individual will find themselves in the company of those of a peaceful, calm, and loving consciousness. In this sense, what humanity has long imagined as heaven or hell is not a place we are sent, but the makeup of our own consciousness reflected back to us.
Life in the astral is also freed from the material concerns that occupy so much of our physical existence. There is no need to work, to eat, or to sleep. At first, we may still feel those familiar desires, but since we never grow hungry or tired, they fade away very quickly. Without material pursuits to fill our days, we find ourselves with something the physical plane rarely gave us: time for introspection and the development of self-awareness. There are also libraries and halls of higher learning, concerts, and gatherings that those in the astral may attend.
How each individual uses that time varies widely. The awakened individual, the one who has been seeking, will study and grow and in time begin to prepare for the next incarnation. But many people do very little between incarnations. Some drift through their astral life much as they drifted through their physical life, and some never fully realize they have graduated at all, until they are ready to be awakened to a greater truth.
Love does not end at graduation. What changes is the form the bond takes. Letting go does not mean forgetting, and it does not mean feeling nothing. It means learning, gently and over time, to trust that the one who has gone is cared for and finally free, and to let our love follow them there rather than hold them here. So surround your loved one in white light and bless them on their way so that they may continue to move forward in consciousness and in thought.
Grow in light and grow in peace.
