Straight From Death: Boy and Girl

It may come as a shock to the greater portion of my audience, but contrary to common conception, I am endlessly fascinated by humanity. I would go so far as to say that I adore you. Why else would I guide each and every one of you through your transition out of a given incarnation?

And while I'm dispelling misconceptions, I, Death, am actually female. Not in the gendered sense you humans imagine. I have no physical form and thus no anatomy to speak of, but in the way of vibrational energy, I am feminine. The entire Universe is female, really. Life can only be created from the void, the cosmic womb if you will. Don't get discouraged, men. You contain feminine energy, too, as much as it may pain many of you to admit it.

I also take no issue with being associated with darkness. Light can only be born from the dark, the stars shine brightest against the night sky. And you do all shine so very brightly in the end. Which again, isn't an end, but a transition. In the ultimate act of letting go, what you consider to be your death, you each finally allow yourselves to be the light you truly have always been.

If I do find fault with humanity (and even fault is too strong a word), it is in that one instance. The vast majority of you have to reach the end before you permit yourselves to see the brilliance of who you are. If I could ever wish anything for any of you, it would be that you would choose to die before your death. To live in the light that is you without the need of my darkness to see it.

Don't beat yourselves up over it, though. This Earth school you chose is the highest order of master class and learning to navigate it is undoubtedly a son of a bitch. Or daughter, as the case may be. Ha! Don't worry. Knowing the Universe like I do, She doesn't mind at all being called a bitch. She, like me, is unconditional love. Love has no need to mind much of anything at all. The only reason you humans mind much of anything is because it is a function of this school you've chosen. To be human is to forget.

It may seem a cruel caveat to this Earth life from the common human perspective. The idea that you come into this world knowing that you are love, that you are all that is, only to have that knowledge wiped from your human mind. But you see, part of what you've forgotten is that you volunteered to erase your own memory. There was no better way to expand your existence than to experience yourself from a place of not knowing the power that you are. And the broader part of you so deeply desired to expand and grow.

And so here you have incarnated. Purposefully. Joyfully. Born screaming into this place that so many of you curse and damn. We - myself, the Universe, all of knowing existence - We feel so much joy even in that strange habit humanity has. A habit of seeing your collective world as broken, in need of adjustment and correction. That is a part of this school as well.

Your ascended masters, Buddhas and gurus, they aren't more spiritual or better connected than any of the rest of you. They've simply remembered the perfection of all that is and have chosen to allow it. All of life, your own included, is entirely perfect. The filters of your perception of reality are what disallow your own joyous journey. But again, don't beat yourselves up over it. Even if it requires your own death, your transition, you do all see the joy and perfection of this Earth journey once I come to collect you from it. If you will allow me now, I'd like to make my case with a few examples.

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We'll start with the story of a boy. While I understand that you humans are highly attached to labels and names, we in the non-physical of existence have no need of such things. Even I don't actually refer to myself as Death, but for ease of your comprehension, I take on the label of Death. In order that we may avoid wild speculation as to which 'boy' this story refers to, we'll simply call him Boy.

Boy chose to be born the youngest child of six. And to answer the immediate question, yes, you do all absolutely choose the family you are born into. Among other facets of your human incarnation. But let's not become too entangled in that just now.

Boy's family was not wealthy by human standards, but they did not 'go without' as humans like to say. His father was a ranch hand to a family that could be called old money. His mother worked for the same family as a cook in their kitchen. Boy grew up watching his siblings take up work for the same prosperous equine magnates that employed his parents, and also watching how very different the lives of his horse and land owning counterparts were to his own.

Having no one else to look after Boy, his mother brought him along to the grand estate when she went to work in the kitchen. While he wasn't yet able to work as his elder siblings did, Boy would sneak away from the kitchen and play outside with the youngest daughter of the wealthy family. We'll call her Girl.

Girl was also the youngest of six children, daughters all. Of her sisters, Girl was widely considered to be the least blessed in the way of good looks. Their mother being something of a local beauty, it was often bemoaned in not so quieted tones that this lone female offspring, of all the others, did not seem to inherit her mothers fair features. Boy didn't mind. He thought Girl was beautiful as she was. From the very start of their friendship, he loved her soul far too much to ever consider her lesser than her sisters to any degree, whatever others might say.

As they reached their later teenage years, Boy and Girl of course grew fond of one another in the ways that humans often do. Boy, by this time, had taken up post as ranch hand like his father and siblings before him. This, naturally, meant that he was not of sufficient stock to be allowed to wed Girl, if her father had anything to say about it.

We'll skip over the more mundane details here, but after the inevitable explosive argument that ensued when Boy was caught with Girl in a compromising position in one of the stables, Boy left the ranch to make something of himself. What he made was a considerable group of followers in what I do believe you humans like to refer to as a cult.

Boy may not have been traditionally educated, but in his righteous anger at the hierarchy of society, he found an impressively persuasive voice. Not that his followers needed much persuading. They, too, had been 'victim' to the stations they were born to. Boy's message was a breath of fresh air to his rallied troops, many of whom left their lowly stations to join the community he was building.

Though forbidden to see him, Girl watched Boy amass his 'church' from afar, keeping up with the local gossip about him from family and friends. Whatever Girl may have apparently lacked in looks, she more than made up for in intelligence. She knew that whatever anyone in their upper class circles might say, her father's money was the only reason anyone deemed him 'respectable' and paid him attention. Boy held the respect of his followers with nothing more than his convictions, and in Girl's eyes, that only made him all the more enchanting.

Again, skipping over the unnecessary details, Girl made a number of attempts over the years to join Boy in his secular community. Each time thwarted and stolen back home by her father. Lesser a beauty than her sisters she may be, but no child of his would make a fool of him by taking up with fodder such as Boy. And so the righteous wrath of Boy grew.

Somewhere in his human early thirties, Boy had fully become the rage of his foiled love story. If he could not live in the joy of Girl, then he would find a way to be remembered forever by her wretched pompous father and all of his offensively affluent kin. Let them all see the madness they had driven him to, the devastation their rejection had wrought.

Boy called his entire flock to their gathering hall and summoned the last and most powerful of his orating skills. Enraptured as they were with Boy, only a handful of his community protested the plan Boy laid out. Those handful were the first to go. Their bodies were dragged to the end of the road outside the community's humble hall. Upon the chest of one of the dissenters was left a short manifesto of sorts, laying the blame for their carnage at the feet of the monied gentry in no uncertain terms. Then for the ugly, final justice.

Boy and his parishioners returned to the gathering hall, proceeded to board it shut from the inside, and set the hall and themselves ablaze. The screams of those inside were lost to the nearby townsfolk, all having perished before the smoke finally drew enough attention to bring onlookers.

Girl was not permitted to read the manifesto, but she didn't need to. She well knew what unkindness had driven Boy and his flock to their infernal end. In her own final act of rebellion, Girl locked herself in her room at the family ranch, laid in her lonely bed, and set herself alight to join Boy.

Before you shed tears of despair, know that everyone of these 'poor souls' was collected from their bodily vessels well before they could truly experience the horror of their chosen fate. That is the way with all of my collections. Only those who have requested to lag behind for the full physical flesh experience of torment are left to do so.

I met Boy and Girl together in their transitions, for there is no time and to guide them simultaneously away from their human theater was their wish. Upon their shift to non-physical with me, they were able to review the way their drama had played out together. They watched many of the infinite possibilities and timelines their story could have followed, but there was no lament that they did not experience those potentialities. Again, in the non-physical, when you remember that you are unconditional love, you really don't have need to mind anything much.

Boy and Girl saw the value in their story as it was, saw the generations that shifted cultural paradigms because they heard the tale of Boy and Girl. And they were happy that they had chosen to live the story as they did. Once their review was complete, they agreed that playing the game was far too much fun to stop there. Boy and Girl decided upon another soul contract, to incarnate as humans and play the game again to see if they could find their way to one another once more. And they delighted in the idea of forgetting, for they knew their remembrance of each other would be magical in their next life.

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Before we move to our next human tale, I would like to make note that Boy and Girl were not the only willing participants in their love story. Girl's father, the ill-fated parishioners, and indeed all involved agreed to play their respective roles. The Universe makes no mistakes, there are no unwitting players in the game of physical existence. The trick is to remember that bit while you're still acting in your chosen role.