What Would Heaven Be

November 6, 2021

Ah God, that love should be

Another road to pain…

Still—if death were not

Another way to love,

There were little need of heaven

That sages whisper of.

~Willard Wattles, Heaven

Here’s a question that has bothered me pretty much forever. If each human being is actually an eternal soul experiencing multiple lifetimes, and we keep reincarnating, how can anyone visit us in heaven? If we reincarnated, presumably we’re once again on earth.

And how do we visit anyone in heaven when we go there, if they’ve already reincarnated and are off on a new adventure?

That’s the kind of question that makes it sound like somebody has too much time on their hands. But truly, this has bothered me for as long as I’ve been aware of reincarnation, which makes it a lot of years, indeed.

*****

I came across the Matthew Ward books shortly after discovering the Golden Age of Gaia blog in 2018. I read some of Matthew’s Messages on the blog and eventually the entire backlog of them on the Matthew Books website. I also ordered the books and read them one after another during a kaleidoscopic few weeks.

And there, there! I found my explanations.

Which completely made sense while I was reading them.

Now, all I can recall offhand is something about soul fragments and all of our lifetimes existing simultaneously and how we are really everywhere (and every-when) at once.

So that makes it sound like one personage, as Matthew calls them, can exist in heaven (aka Nirvana), while the personage’s soul can fling a new spark of itself to earth and reincarnate as a new personage. And all the while, the soul itself resides…where, exactly?

No wonder such a thing as multiple personality disorder exists. Maybe that’s what happens to someone for whom the veil never completely closes. Wait a minute! I could’ve sworn I was living in a hovel in Indonesia…no, I was a medicine woman in the Incas…who the heck am I?

*****

Sometimes I miss the unquestioning beliefs of childhood. According to the Catholic Church, we’re born, we live, and we die. Hopefully we’ve been good and we go to heaven because you sure don’t want to end up in the Bad Place, or stuck in Purgatory for that matter.

Birth, life, and death (ideally followed by everlasting life in heaven) is the sum total of existence. Even as a child, I wondered: is that all there is? It seemed a bit of a gyp, but one mustn’t question God‘s wisdom.

It took me years to figure out that “God“ and “church“ were not interchangeable terms.

*****

This is the kind of rambling philosophical exploration that humans have delighted in for millennia, judging by the amount of literature that exists on these topics.

I have paged through some of the more esoteric texts, which, I confess, tend to blur into an impenetrable swarm of words that make no sense even while I’m reading them.

Sages who communicate in relatively modern English—souls who speak through channels, or channelers who tap straight in to the eternal wisdom of the All That Is—can hold my attention more easily. While reading, I nod my head, yes, of course, this is how it is.

But after I put away the book, I forget; it becomes a mystery again, and I wonder if I will ever understand, and remember understanding.

*****

Like almost every other frustrating thing in my life, all I can do is accept my current limitations. I don’t have to like them. I can yearn for comprehension that lasts longer than the duration of my eyes following words on a page.

The recommendation for a sovereign being always seems to be, trust yourself. Trust your own wisdom and your own knowing.

What does my wisdom say? What do I know, unshakably?

The only thing I’d put money on right now is that my childhood understanding—based on what the church told me, before I started to question things—was probably flawed.

After that…I just have to say that almost anything goes.

Since that makes me smile a little, I’m going to accept that as my reality. For now. Who knows what doorways of vision might open for me later today, tomorrow, next century?

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One belief I hold dear and have no wish to discard: anything is, indeed, possible, and my limited understanding likely can’t imagine what all those possibilities are.