The summer seemed pale and lifeless. I tried to work on this book, but I was too sad. I wanted Billy back. People who knew about Billy were in awe of my experience, but for me the book wasn't as important as our relationship. And now he was gone for good . . . merged into the void of non-beingness.
Autumn came. Billy often said that nature is healing. I soothed my loneliness by walking in the woods, swimming in the bay, bathing in the light of the moon and stars. I began reviewing Billy's notes. How could I be sad? Billy lives in this book. He will never really be gone because he is now part of all that is, including me.
Late November, when the trees were surrendering their burnished leaves, just before sunrise I saw a thick ray of white light above me.
Good morning. Billy's voice was quite changed, its pitch much lower. I could tell he was speaking to me from somewhere much further away, but I heard him clearly.
A single eddy of light, whiter than any white imaginable, broke into the Void to pull me back into existence. Like an embryo in a womb, I again became the soul that lived all my lives.
The light ray propelled my un-embodied soul out of the Void and into a region where the light is so thick it falls like snow. I moved through this snowy light, the light that reveals the flawless nature of the Absolute, until I arrived at the present moment.
In the distance I see a landscape of snow-covered mountains. Standing on the white cliffs are shadowy figures, but the shadows are white instead of dark. The figures look as if snow is falling from their heads to their feet. I can't see the figures clearly. Their faces and the shapes of their bodies are a white blurry storm. Only their billowy sleeves and their hands are in focus. They are long and graceful, and rays shoot out from the fingers.
I recognize these figures although I don't think I've seen them before. These snowy shadows are Supreme High Spirits, who I will call the White Light Brothers. I call them brothers but there are females among them. And although these High Beings don't need to reap the rewards of an earthly existence, some of them have chosen to go to earth to bring the knowledge that something kinder, more beautiful, and wondrous is indeed the ultimate reality. Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King were from the Brotherhood. Most of the White Light Brothers never go to earth, but their absolute light intermingles with and protects your world. If you focus on the white light, as you do my voice, I know you'll feel it.
There's an impersonal quality to these Supreme Beings, but that's not a negative—it's a big plus. There's a pureness to it. This is what I've imagined being in the presence of God would be like. You see, the Brothers aren't souls. They are pure Spirit. Just as our bodies are the carriers of our souls, our souls are the carriers of our Spirit.
And in this blazing whiteness, the whiteness of the Absolute, in this heaven of all heavens, I am about to shed my soul.
It isn't scary in any way. If you were inside a space suit, like the ones astronauts wear, even if it's the most fantastic, gorgeous, all the bells and whistles space suit, and even if you get to have wild adventures and explore unusual things that you've never imagined, after some time it's still a great relief to take off the suit.
Rays from several of the Brothers’ hands reach out and join with my fingertips. I become one with their light, but oh, I want you to know, you must understand, that they are so most thankfully not me. They are so much more than me. Through them, I am becoming the first impulse of the Divine Source: Spirit. From pure soul I am becoming pure Spirit. And, as Spirit, I will leave the system of earth and all its heavens and go on to another Universe. I have cast off my earthly disguise, my life, my drama, my music; everything is being left behind, even my soul.
And as I go on to another Universe, flickering as a beam of light into the unknown, flickering as a flame of pure Spirit in and out of consciousness, flickering from being to non-being and back again, as I do so, I ask only these things. Play this role for me. Be the Scheherazade of my posthumous journey, keep listening for my voice, and always, always and forever remember my love.