Many people who work with souls believe that when we die our souls become whole again. All the soul pieces that we lost return to make us whole.
I have a report from Dana Smith where she talks about one time when parts did return. She and some other beings were watching a soul ascend to the light. Just as the soul was about to pass through the boundary between this world and the next, the process stopped. The entities helping the soul to move on told the people watching to go back down and check on the body.
Dana and the other beings did that. As they watched, soul parts began arriving on the bed. They were dressed in old-fashioned travel outfits and looked eager to make their journey. Dana says that in her experience with the dead and dying, they sometimes present in nice travel clothes, but not always. She is not sure if that is just how Spirit speaks to her, so it may not be universal. What she does know is that when her clients show up dressed for travel they are ready to return or cross over.
When the soul parts were assembled, they rose up to meet the soul waiting at the boundary. After the parts were joined up again, the larger soul passed through.
[This is one of the kinds of shamanic work Dana does. If you are interested in more information, her e-mail is DanaSmith_9@yahoo.com.]
I think there are other times when all the pieces don’t get back together. People who do soul retrieval, including me, have brought back soul pieces from previous lifetimes. Sometimes parts of our souls are left behind. I don’t think there is a simple answer for what happens at death.
My advice is to do your work now. Don’t count on being fixed when you die.
And I have a request: Please tell me about your experiences with souls coming back together. Have you seen soul parts gather at death? Have you retrieved pieces from past lives? Is retrieving soul parts from a past life different from retrieving parts from the current life? What did the soul parts look like? Any information will be appreciated.
You can contact me directly by adding a comment or emailing to firstname.lastname@example.org. Please let me know whether I can use the information in a newsletter and whether you want to have your name and contact information included.
Thank you for this work and the care that you have taken with your newsletter and the souls that are in our charge. As a chaplain and, as such, a clinician, like you I truly believe that it is best to work on our stuff as we live for it will make living a more whole and peaceful endeavor. As a chaplain for elders I am often leading support group for families and caregivers for people with dementia and the reality there is that some people’s bodies live past the ability to integrate and deal with significant emotional scars and pain. This is sadness that we work though together, and it is further confirmation to “work on your own stuff.” It is simply healthier.
Just so, as a person with chronic illness and disability, you can imagine that the question of wholeness…finally, perhaps after death in the arms of the Divine is an important one. As a Christian there are curious passages of Scripture like when Jesus says, “If your hand causes you to sin…it is better to enter the Kingdom of Heaven with one hand…foot…eye…than to be thrown into hell.” (Mark 9:42ff) This seems to suggest that “wholeness” is not the point.
Even more, the Christian stories of the resurrection all have Jesus appearing to the disciples still bearing his wound. This is very meaning for to me as a wounded person because I identify with those wounds immediately. If I were to have made the choice, being a wounded person and knowing what that’s like, I’d probably have resurrected Jesus without his wounds. I hate mine. But, the picture is instead one of God incorporating those wounds into the Divine.
This is the mystery that makes me think. Maybe being in the presence the Divine is finally being in a place where my wounds don’t matter. Sure, they have defined me and made me who I am. Sure, they hurt me physically too, but the pain from the exclusion, inaccessible communities, churches, and the way that you are pushed to the fringes is even more painful. I find comfort only among the people who know and understand what I’ve been through.
Maybe there is a mode of being where our wounds bring us intimately together. Wouldn’t it be truly healing if our communities could welcome us without fear, exclusion, and the rest even if our wounds reminded others of their one wound and fragility? Perhaps the soul finds healing from love of and the acceptance of they really are…wounds and all.
Thank you so much for your work on this, for making me think and for reading those thoughts.