The Witness

Pop.

My brain explodes and I am instantly above my body, staring down at the empty shell of a man called Serge.  Killer.  Madman.  Villain.  I am incredibly relieved to be rid of him, and a bit surprised that the ending I finally faced was not the one I had planned.   The bullet that killed my body was a silent, stalking aneurysm that finally exploded one evening as I finished off the dish of tapioca my niece had delivered earlier.  I died in a bright flash of light with the sweet taste of pudding still on my tongue.  An ending far kinder than the one I felt I deserved.

The relief is immeasurable each time the veil parts and I return home.  Memories are restored and I once again know who and what I really am.  Questions are answered, and healing takes place.  Lifetimes that have left me broken, either physically or emotionally, have to be healed, but the love that greets me when I arrive back home is unconditional and soul rehabilitation always begins immediately.  I am restored.  I remember.

The One I knew as Horst from this lifetime greets me in a rush of energy and our memories mingle.  I understand in that moment that the nagging companion of my last years on earth was not this Horst but was the ghost of my own madness.  I also gain knowledge that the handgun given to me by Horst had been deliberately tampered with by my friend.  He had known what I would try to do with it and saved me from that end.  We spin together, remember many lifetimes, many lessons.  Ours is a long and fruitful relationship and I am overjoyed to see my friend.

Horst leaves and the space I am in transforms into a large, white room.  Young men, some not much more than boys, in tattered and muddy uniforms, line up along the wall.  I count them.

Twenty two.

I walk up to the first One.  I stare into his face, memorizing it.  I have known this One before, but in other disguises.  We embrace and our souls remember each other once more.  I ask forgiveness but am instantly aware that this is not necessary.  Forgiveness is a human game required only because in the human world there is also judgment.  There is no judgment here.  There is only unconditional love and understanding.

The purpose of my life as  Serge comes to me then.  I am surprised because it is the same purpose I had during my lifetime as the girl with no name.  I am amazed that two such diverse lifetimes could be so closely linked.  A murderer gone mad, and a four year old victim of terrible abuse, both sent to this earth school for the same purpose.

To engender compassion.

As I greet each One, I feel their unconditional love.  They lead me to understand that the acts I committed in taking their lives sent out ripples and waves of grief, but then of compassion.  Every grieving heart inspired others to reach out and show love and compassion.  Each death that was at my hand inspired awakening around the world.  Each murder I committed became a ragged love letter to the world to stop the violence and the killing.

My soul weeps, shedding the shame of Serge and  I embrace each of the Twenty two, knowing now that we had planned this dance together, killer and victims.  Everything happened as it should.  In Serge’s life I just happened to wear the guise of villain, while in other lifetimes I was victim.  We play many roles in our lives on Earth.  We learn, we teach and we grow.  All is in perfect order, even when it seems it is not.

Engendering compassion when dressed as a starving and beaten four year old girl is easy to accept.  More challenging to  accept is that acting as murderer or villain can also engender compassion.  Even now as I try to wrap my mind around it, I have difficulty.  Again I am reminded that our time on earth is meant to gather experience, and not necessarily understanding.

I have had three lifetimes of which I am aware that my purpose has been to engender compassion.  Once as Serge, the perpetrator, once as the little girl with no name – the victim and now, in this lifetime, as the witness.  As I bear witness to these memories it is my great hope that the breadth and scope of compassion engendered by my past lives will add to the ever widening ripples of an awakening and increasingly compassionate society.

If we let go of the need to judge, we let go of the need to forgive.  Instead we find compassion. Believe that all is perfect, because it really is.

And besides, you just never know,  the greatest purveyor of bad assery in your life may be one of your closest soul mates, taking one for the team.  As Ram Dass says, “We’re all just walking each other home.”   What’s say we take the scenic route?

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