The Soul Remembers

There is a pronounced ugliness there, brassy, irritable attitudes found nowhere else. Anger and rage is rampant. Desperation, disease, strife, rape, and murder happen daily. I shudder at the thought; these concepts are well beyond my sensibilities. One of the guides flips a button, and the viewing screen starts. I am shown desperate people who are willing to perform unspeakable acts for a meal or a place to sleep. “Some are deluded not realizing the person they called friend could plunge a knife Into their heart in an instant of rage, without caring.” The stories are harsh, stark, frightening, and surreal. I back away from the screen and look At the leader of the masters. He is glaring at me, awaiting my decision. I can choose to stay in Heaven to learn my next five lessons, or to go to Earth. If I choose Earth, it’ll be a lot faster, but Heaven is safe. “But surely there is some good there,” I argue. My voice cracks, as if I am pleading. A soft hood nods. “Newborn babies,” she says softly. The other hoods join in, “Puppies,” “rainbows,” “gentle rain,” “flowers,” “hope,” “faith.” “I choose to learn my lessons on Earth,” I tell them. My voice sounds stronger now. “I’ll watch for the good,” I tell them. I am thinking I’ll nurture it too, so I say that. Because in Heaven to think a thought is to say it. I am impregnated within minutes. By the time I can walk without a toddle, this memory is but a wisp in my hair. Luckily, my spirit guides will remember. They remind me in my sleep.