Once a man, James, was haunted by the fear of death. His heart throbbed at the thought of eternal solitude and oblivion, a never-ending night spent alone. He feared the cold, dreary darkness that he thought death would be. This crippling fear drove him to seek help from a psychologist, Dr. Hennings.
In a room washed with morning sunlight, Dr. Hennings welcomed James with a cup of steaming tea. They talked, easing into the depth of James’s fear. As the conversation lulled, Dr. Hennings pointed towards the now empty cup. “You see the tea, James?” he asked. “It’s no longer in the cup. It’s traveled to another place. The cup does not yearn for it; it simply holds space for another serving.”
James listened attentively, brows furrowed in contemplation. The psychologist continued, “You savored the tea, didn’t you? It’s now inside you, part of your existence. That’s death, my friend.”
James shifted uneasily. Dr. Hennings leaned forward, his gaze softening. “You fear you will be alone, adrift in an endless darkness, but consider this: either death will be a state of complete unconsciousness, like being under anesthesia, where you’ll float devoid of fear, or it will be a realm bathed in light, resonating with the harmony of the spheres, and you’ll find yourself surrounded by love.”
“The other alternative, reincarnation, would require you to endure the trials of life again, which might not be desirable. Yet, both potential realities are not dreadful but beautiful. To dissolve into the vast, cosmic nothingness is to become an integral part of the grandeur of the universe. And if there’s a place bathed in the brightest light, filled with souls who have loved you and those who await you, liberated from the desires and limitations of a mortal body, wouldn’t that be heaven?”
James was silent, his face reflecting a blend of emotions. The fear of death still lingered, but Dr. Hennings had painted it in a new light. This wasn’t an ending, but a transformation, a journey from one state of being to another. He nodded, gratitude flickering in his eyes. The fear hadn’t disappeared, but it no longer loomed so large. Death was not an end, but another journey, either into profound tranquillity or towards a warm, welcoming light.