Alt Journey


Part 1

A cold breeze laced with pine and rich earth blew across her mind and erased every story, every reason why. Glimpses of a forfeited future flashed in a hologram first to her right, then her left, and back again. A visibly older her sat on a blue blanket on a lush lawn laughing while a well-calloused hand brushed a raven curl away from her face and tucked it behind her ear, her tiny gold cross earring catching the sunlight. At middle-age, she drove faintly blue vintage convertible along a shoreline highway, seagulls dove into sparkling waves and that same hand reached for a radio station dial. A strand of pearls fastened around her neck by younger long fingers. Her body jerked against the rope as a baby nestled into her shoulder. She kissed his downy hair. Mingled scents of baby shampoo, mother’s milk, and fresh laundry filled her briefly with an old familiar hope. What looked like heavy purple curtains tangled around her limbs, squeezed and constricted them relentlessly until she no longer had limbs. Something forgotten strained against her diminishment; a desire for sight grew as this lifetime blurred and receded into nothingness. How unfair that life still withheld joy, still punished her even to her last breath. Death laughed in the vestibule while Life pushed forward with all its might to give her a parting gift. His name was Seth. Tall like his Dad, he enveloped her arm in his and helped her slowly shuffle to a worn shiny pew at the front of the cathedral, where he bent down to receive her kiss as the sun fell on a stained-glass depiction of Mary holding the Christ child. I look happy, was her final thought as tiny vessels in her eyes popped and released their crimson sentence. Urine filled Shana’s favorite leather boots, the ones with roses embroidered on them, as a sea filled her skull and applied waves of pressure needed to oust a soul from its form: a mammalian human female of short stature, deep amber eyes and only medium wear. Life sighed and moved on as one silver-toed boot gave a final kick through the door.


The Veil Nebula, a popular subject for Hubble images

“Whoah! Slow your roll there, Kazmir. This one qualifies for a hearing.” Oisin arrived at Termination chute #333 just in time to play the hero it imagined itself. Belief was everything; everything except for a tiny, infinitesimal bit. Feathers of nil swept Kaz to the side easily as they paid little attention to #333, which every being knew was highly protected. Kaz and servants much preferred descending Soul Mover #66, where souls with potential slid toward repetitive contracts nearly impossible to fulfill, except for those that did. Drool enveloped and dripped from them all as Kaz’s mouth inspected cracks, dents, and holes in search of the oldest and most damaged of souls with karmic contracts. Some writhed rather than jerked when he prodded their wounds with needles of searing blue fire, a fresh delight each and every instance. Kaz envied their torment and cut two in half in eagerness for Death’s worst rewards. Even if he could feel remorse, there was nothing to regret. Souls weakened over centuries with little personal care from Death’s demons would never withstand another initiation, let alone another lifetime. Oisin plucked Shana’s soul, still in a state of shock, from the crowd of first-timers yet to be sorted, and pitched it hurtling through nothingness until a tiny speck of blue appeared below. “Ok, so … Eddy asked me to cover this gig for him today and I don’t really remember exactly what I’m s’posed to impart. Knew I’d be picking you up, concentrated on that part because it seemed more important than a transmission…but, I’ll try”. Oisin extended a pink tendril toward her. “You fucked up. Wait, I mean… (Big inhale of nothingness) you were obviously hurting immensely, maybe even in a mentally ill vessel, so you have an exam and hearing to evaluate if you can finish your contracted missions in another vessel, or if your soul … um, yeah… not quite sure. Forgive me, but I normally work in the Birth Arenas.” It stepped aside as blue speck grew until it enveloped the soul and spun, faster then faster as loose bits of identity such as age, race, gender, and religion let go and vaporized. This Soul held tight to its’ name with an ancient ownership that defied Oisin’s abilities. Crimson and violet tendrils wound around concepts of good and bad, ripped them out, and left behind shreds of guilt and regret. Eddy didn’t communicate this possibility, nor the worrisome grey which tainted Oisin’s pure aura. One mammoth golden wing swept Oisin aside, who didn’t mind in the least. Not even a portion of a single soul minded Tri-Eloh’s graceful ministrations once they were beyond earth’s physical plane and limited valuations. Aura as clean as the first day of it’s promotion, Oisin felt entirely free as it floated left at the edge of the Milky Way galaxy, consciousness erased of any concern for Shana’s soul. Eddy would understand. Surely, of any Ancient Ones, Tri-Eloh had Divine exemption.  Oisin had little knowledge of, and no appreciation for, rules and processes. It attained its choice of exalted positions thousands of lifetimes ago after serving love in 15 lives, 5 of them entirely volunteer, and two in another galaxy. Having been healed by Tri-Eloh eons ago, it existed in bliss as long as it stayed within the Birth Arena, which it planned on every time it returned.

kss image of sunset
Sunset

Three spherical beings slightly less bright than the Sun became one around the battered soul, lengthened into a shaft of starlight, then slipped into a disk galaxy 3 million light years from Earth. Shana’s soul rested in a tiny green star among the debris at the outer edge, just left of the Erasure Chambers reserved for Tri-Eloh descendant souls, prior to healing in a collective rainbow eligible for planetary re-entry. “It’s good to have her back, even under the circumstances.” Shana’s ancestor spun energetic threads of protection as it whispered, “You are cherished.’ “There IS a process for suicides”, one being intuited. “Yes, it’s true. Your descendant, or not, it should’ve been stripped entirely and put in Grief Empathy BEFORE erasure”, the other added, even as it floated toward the galaxy exit in anticipation of  a negative reaction all three would find equally excruciating. But, typical separation that occurred with disagreement did not come. “It may happen so rarely that we forget their dire oaths, but Death’s demons have been known to cheat.” Tri-Eloh felt a surge of protective love snap their collective will back into alignment.

“Noooooo! Nooo!” a tormented scream of soul mate separation shot out of Earth’s atmosphere and reverberated throughout the universe until it landed on the tiny green star.

If you or someone you care about needs a listening ear trained in helping turn a “hot moment” into a cool one, in the U.S. and Canada please text HOME to 741741 or visit https://www.crisistextline.org/ for more resources.
In the U.K. please text SHOUT to 85258.
In Ireland text HOME to 50808.
In Australia visit https://www.lifeline.org.au/crisis-text/

Help in several other countries, along with resources can be found Here

Suicidal ideation verbalized should NEVER be ignored or downplayed.

If you’ve lost someone to suicide, support can be found Here or Here

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