The line to the gate extended far into the distance. As each one waited in line with ticket in hand, one could observe various states of mind. Some were excited and eager to get to their destination to see what would happen. Others, perhaps recalling painful memories from the past, were hesitant and unsure about taking the trip. And still others—though these were very, very few—stood with calm detachment, knowing that it was their chosen duty to help others they would meet at the destination.

Jivan waited his turn with mixed feelings. Part of him was drawn to the comfortable familiarity of what awaited him, yet another part felt uncertain, with a faint recollection of having made this same, fruitless journey many times before. Finally his turn came, and he handed his ticket to the attendant at the gate.

The attendant, dressed in simple white robes, looked thoughtfully at Jivan and said, “Let me check your file.” Pulling open a drawer that seemed endless, he eventually found Jivan’s file, and began flipping quickly through page after page. From what Jivan could see as he leaned forward inconspicuously, nearly every page was stamped “Completed.” At the end of the file, however, the attendant paused to read the few remaining pages carefully. He placed them into what appeared to be a copy machine, and out came a manuscript.

“Here’s your script,” said the attendant, handing Jivan the bound document. “It will give your daily plot and lines, but will reveal them only one day at a time. Good luck.”

The gate opened, and Jivan stepped through—only to behold a figure standing before him. He was a beautiful being, his blue skin radiant with light, a flute at his side. His twinkling eyes and gentle smile hinted at infinite wisdom and eternal love.

Jivan instinctively knelt before him, and the divine being blessed him with these words: “As the ego keeps the thread of self-awareness unbroken through infancy, childhood, youth, and old age, so also the embodied soul maintains its awareness uninterruptedly, not only through the stages of earth life, but through the appearance of successive bodies.” (Gita 2:13)

He concluded: “Make the Lord alone, with all eagerness of heart, your refuge. By His grace you will attain the uttermost peace, and find shelter for all eternity.” (Gita 18:62)

Somewhat stunned, Jivan stepped onto the platform, script in hand, and waited to begin his journey. As he dissolved into the light of the transporter beam, past roles flashed before him. Some were lives spent seeking the pleasures of the world; some were filled with confusion as to life’s purpose; others were dedicated to seeking a happiness not found in this world.

When he arrived at his destination, he found himself in the home of high-minded parents, who lovingly cared for their newborn child. At first, the daily script and his lines were simple: sleep, eat, be cuddled, try to move your limbs, and make indistinct cooing sounds.

As time passed, and he entered childhood, the plot grew more complex. Just as the attendant had said, each day revealed his role: go to school; play with his friends; try to obey his parents. Moving into adolescence and young adulthood, Jivan did his best to act well the part he was given, though he encountered many tests and challenges along the way.

Then, one day, something different happened. As he opened his manuscript, a faint image appeared on the page behind the words: a small face, barely visible at first. On successive days it grew larger and more distinct. It was a beautiful face with Indian features, eyes that spoke of a loving awareness of who Jivan truly was, and a silent promise of eternal guidance throughout his journey.

From the moment this face appeared, both the plot and Jivan’s lines began to change. No longer were they in reaction to what others did, but seemed uniquely his own. The tests he faced became harder, and took more effort to overcome. Still, his choices were guided by a higher purpose, and one of his lines was something he had never expected to say: “I want to be your disciple.”

As more time passed, Jivan—whose name means “the embodied soul”—realized that the manuscript guiding his life was nearing its end. Each page now bore a larger image of his guide, changing according to what was being imparted to him, and contained only a few words for him to speak.

Finally, he came to the last page. It held no image, no plot, no words, only a calm, expansive light. Wonderingly, he asked himself, “Is this the end of the journey?”

At that moment, another figure appeared before him. He, too, was a divine being, but dressed in the simple garb of a carpenter. Once again Jivan knelt instinctively before the being whose eyes overflowed with infinite compassion and forgiveness. Placing his hands on Jivan’s head, he spoke: “Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go forth no more.” (Revelation 3:12)

Then the transporter beam lifted them both into a realm of light, and all was silent.

***

The line was still long as people waited to reach the gate with their tickets in hand. Most would make many more trips, but a few would follow Jivan’s journey and “go forth no more.” For whenever a soul reaches the journey’s end, he leaves behind a trail of light for others to follow.

With loving thoughts,

Nayaswami Devi

Listen to Devi as she first reads the blog, then expands on its meaning and messages for readers with behind-the-blog commentary. Subscribe to the podcast or download the audio recording by right-clicking here. Or listen to it here (10:14):

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