A vast, green landscape. Endless fields and hills. The sun sits behind a large block casting a shadow on the land I walk on. As I come closer I see that the dark block is a door. Massive, ancient, at least 30 stories high and as wide. When I reach it, I sit down, leaning my back against it. The wood radiates warmth, comfort, heated from the sun on the other side. When I look toward the direction I came from, I see an ocean of human shapes in the distance. I can identify faces. My family, friends, clients, co-workers and strangers, all walking together toward the door. Their shapes are dark and distinct.
I get up, step away from the door and turn towards it. Their two massive sides open slightly, building a small gap in the middle, just large enough for me to look through to the other side. The same landscape. A mirror image of the one I’m standing on. The only difference, it is drenched in light. I see the same people there. Family, friends, clients, co-workers and strangers. Shapes of light, almost indistinguishable. There is a chorus, slightly below my ability to hear, easily dismissible, coming from the light shapes. Utter and complete joy radiates from them. For a moment I hear the song, a hymn, inviting me to join in, to add my voice to theirs.
My hands touch the doors. One hand on each of them. There is the slightest push, ever so gently pressing against the palms of my hand. “No”, I think quietly. The pressure lessens. The massive doors respond to my smallest wish and close. I sit down again, warming my back on it. There is no rush, no urgency, no time. Just the comfort of the knowledge of where I am always and where we all are, here and in eternity.
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