What is Heaven on Earth?
“I just want to die!!! I just want to die!!!” wailed Annie, Toni Collette’s character, as yet another tragedy crushed her family (and faith) in Hereditary. Sadly, it doesn’t get much better for them as what I believe to be the most horrifying movie I’ve ever seen continues to show how death grips us, shakes us, and refuses to let us go. How the secrets we take to the grave continue to eat away at those we’ve left behind. How fragile our sanity is when confronted by the hellish darkness. Case in point: following my first viewing of the movie, I flipped off the bedside lamp in my bedroom one night, which is only 8-10 steps away from the door, but before I could make my exit, my newfound fear of the dark shattered my mental defenses. Three steps in, the shadows in the opposite corner of my room took on a menacing form, so I rushed back to the lamp and flipped on the light to ensure no threats were lurking. All clear, right? In that instance, yes, but had I emerged from the pit of hell in my mind?
After jumping from the sky with Self-Esteem in tow, I was ready to tackle all the inner demons that held me back from living my destiny. Fear was only in my mind, and if I was able to quiet it through meditation and mantra repetition, I would experience all the joy the world had to offer. Heaven, as an internal state of being, was only a step away. Then, the stairway began to extend upward, well beyond my field of vision while I tried to will myself from the bottom step. It wasn't until a friend asked me---"do you want to remain a question?"---that I saw what was holding my feet in place, and it sent me back on a journey through my own personal hell. A lifetime of trauma and self-destructive behavior was laid out before me, from the initial pains of childhood to the more severe torment of adulthood. I experienced each agonizing moment over again, feeling the full weight of the emotions I previously pushed away. It's insane what the mind is capable of detaching from and normalizing; often times it's meant to help us persevere and thrive, but in these cases, I was confronted by my silence, my willingness to partake in physical and emotional abuse, and my departure from inner faith.
When portrayed in media, hell is frequently filled with fire and brimstone, and pointy-headed figures lurk around in the shadows awaiting newly-arrived souls. Perhaps the unbearable heat is supposed to represent our anger or shame as both give rise to that burning sensation that makes us feel so uncomfortable. On the other hand, heaven is airy albeit a bit cloudy. Grand entrances pour forth emanating light in a welcoming fashion yet the gates and guardian angels keep the unworthy at bay, ensuring that the wicked remain far from the holy. So when death grips me, where will I end up? Will I be invited through the pearly gates or drop down through the trap door into the flames?
“Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth?” Belinda Carlisle might have been onto something with her song “Heaven is a Place on Earth”; as Yehuda Berg offers in The 72 Names of God, “It may be hard to believe, but chaos and, yes, even death are temporary distractions of this physical world, necessary for the game of life. Our true purpose is to have unending happiness and eternal existence. We can create heaven on earth” (74). Sure…that sounds easy enough, but I struggled to win Milton Bradley’s version of Life let alone get ahead in my own reality. Often, it’s not until I consider death that I see the importance of living; as a result, my mind is clouded with terrifying thoughts I try to repress but struggle to bury. Berg continues, “we must first achieve our own internal liberation and recovery through personal transformation…Only when individual transformation in the world reaches critical mass, will universal peace, harmony, and a global messiah materialize before our very eyes” (75). Perhaps I’ve been going about this all wrong; rather than burying, I need to dig.
“Suicide creates a ripple effect”
I looked down into the coffin at his lifeless body and thought, this is wrong, it should be me in there. It was only 8th grade; it didn’t seem right for death to strike in such a way. For it to take the life of someone so popular, charming, handsome, funny, compassionate (I could go on…) made it seem even more chaotic. How could he do it? Why?! A lot of questions bombard you when you learn someone close has committed suicide. Granted, in Eric’s life, I was merely in the peripheral: we had a class together, played on the same volleyball team, and exchanged occasional pleasantries. Still, our slight interactions meant a lot to me, the outsider looking in. Like when Eric stood up for me before a few of his friends started messing with my starter’s block during 7th grade track practice. It was a moment in time I saw his heart while simultaneously feeling seen for my own. Unfortunately, my admiration quickly turned to idealization, then idolization, then sexualization. I saw him as everything I wanted to be and to be with, but of course this was all done from afar with only momentary glimpses of what it must be like to live as king of the hill. In my fantasies, I never imagined that Eric was battling in his heart, and before I knew it, he was gone. I blamed myself for a while, being witness to several instances throughout that fateful day where teachers and coaches made Eric feel small, but I was too afraid to use my voice and reach his heart like he did for me. It wasn’t until freshman year of high school that I stood in front of my health class and spoke about the impact suicide has on those around the individual. I wasn’t an avid speech maker, but I shared how my own feeble suicide attempt the summer before barely grazed the wounds left behind from losing Eric.
Fast forward to my mid-20s: closeted, self-destructive, uncompromising, manipulative, self-pitying, disconnected, egotistical (I could go on, again…); I had lost touch with my heart, and though I seemed to be heading in a positive direction professionally, I was spiraling down personally into new depths of my own hell. Miraculously, I found someone who saw me. Someone who saw past all the negative qualities that had been compiling. Someone who saw my heart and loved me despite the mean-spirited actions I took against them for making me feel so vulnerable. Sadly, they weren’t able to lift me out of my downward spiral; I hated what I was too much to connect to my heart, which blinded me in recognizing theirs. Instead, I pulled them into my hellish landscape where hiding and lying were personified as the coercive pointy-headed creatures, where rage burned the skin off of bones, and where shame dissolved the soulful being that lay beneath. It was in the chaos of our combined hell that this individual tried to end their life. When they shared this with me a day later, my mind could only focus on what would have happened if they were successful: I would have walked into the place, found their lifeless body on the bed, and…it still brings tears to my eyes today. Yet, even after learning this, I was still so buried in my hell that I used it against them, making them feel small for something so painful, going so far during a heated fight as to say, “I wish you would have died.”
There is no light in my hell, only darkness. It feeds off my fear and grows to such proportions I feel resigned to submit to it. If I don’t, all I hear are voices from the past reminding me of the terrible things I’ve said and done; this resulted in even greater abuse of alcohol and sex, creating a never-ending cycle I thought I’d never escape. After that relationship came to a screeching halt, I entered into someone else’s hell and punished myself for my past, allowing them to take advantage of my broken heart and place themselves as king of the hill. It’s clear now how desperate I was to find someone to pull me up and out, to recognize my heart even though I barely could, but by entering into their hellish landscape, things only got worse. Through the physical and emotional torture, the voice I referenced on my About page spoke the clearest: You're not good enough to be alive. I knew it was the devil, the negative energy within me that made me question everything I was to the point that the only solution seemed to be death.
Aim, Less Wandering
Though I made my exit from that relationship before any more damage could be done, life crumbled around me following my realization. Hell is not easy to escape from when you’ve made yourself so comfortable in its confines. Each step forward resulted in two steps back, and it seemed like my best efforts to connect to my heart were misguided and based on the same platforms that lead me down the darker path in the first place. I was convinced no one had a similar experience dealing with these inner demons; either they were strong enough to see heaven around them all the time or were crazy and needed to be institutionalized. Still, I made attempts to connect to others despite my growing isolation, hoping (with what little I had left) that I would find someone to pull me from the wreckage of my own doing and help me stand tall. I must say, it’s a losing battle going into any relationship without having any self-trust. While I found a few individuals to share and sort out some of my experiences with, it was clear I was going to have to make this journey alone in order to find my version of heaven.
It wasn’t until January 2017 that I found my path back toward the light. A friend invited me to her wedding in Arizona, which I extended into a vacation to explore the area. Having never been before, I did some research on where to visit and what to see. The Grand Canyon, Sedona, it seemed like a mecca of beautiful, natural sites, and it did not disappoint. After a somewhat bumpy start due to my need for companionship, I drove to Sedona with Adele as my passenger, singing the same three songs on repeat. The day before, I visited the Grand Canyon but only drove around the South Rim snapping photos before turning back to Phoenix. I needed more immersion. When I arrived in the Sedona area, I found a parking lot with several trailheads and took off on the one leading up Bell Rock. It was the most strenuous hike I tackled up to that point, but when I arrived at the highest peak, it took my breath away.
Laid out before me was heaven, or at least what I believe to be heaven. The previous day’s trip to the Grand Canyon was inspiring (and tear-inducing), but something about the physical action I took to reach this apex in Sedona made it even more gratifying. I was at the pearly gates standing tall. But of course, no trip to heaven is complete without a reminder of hell. Before I could catch my breath, the inner demon whispered something nasty in my ear: you don’t deserve this…you should jump. It caught me so off guard I had to lay down on the rocky ledge in order to collect my bearings. Clearly, that negative energy still needed to be sorted out; it launched me into an unforgettable 2017 that probably looked like a giant question mark (and red flag) from the outside as I left the comfort of my home, job, and relationships. However, I had an opportunity to explore the heaven that exists around me as well as the God/soul that exists within me (and each of us).
“They say in heaven, love comes first”
What gives? If you found heaven and the answer to so many questions, why do you hesitate to share, write, and trust yourself? Excellent question…and in order to answer it, I’m going to circle back to my post about (Endless) Love from last year. When I explored what it meant to love, I found that it is important to love yourself first. In this context, it would be impossible for me to find heaven if I didn’t love myself; rather, I would find myself trapped in hell like I was previously. When I returned back to civilization, I came face to face with what I considered to be my personal hell before I left: financial trouble, unemployment, suburban living, political division, awkward social gatherings, single life, etc. Moreover, I was reintroduced to my friends and family, many of whom had been pulled into my hellish landscape at some point in time. How would I live in society with this heavenly voice, and how would I prove to everyone I wasn’t some fake/flake?
An important thing happens when you love yourself: you begin to focus less on external opinions and instead find balance with your heart in all situations. You listen less to that demonic voice, the negative energy that threatens to pull you back down into the abyss. Then, you realize that the people around you, particularly those who also open up their hearts and share their voices, are guardian angels who are in your life not to judge you or keep you from the gates of heaven. No, these angels are in your life to lift you up and support you if you ever find yourself spiraling back down to hell. Whenever that negative energy reclaims head space, I believe it is essential to bring this to the attention of others; not for recognition or validation necessarily, but because it can help uplift those around you since it exposes your heart. It’s terrifying at first, but with enough patience and effort, the universe begins to unfold in a beautiful way as you realize that every person is in your life for a special reason. You regain faith and find your own path in the light that connects you to everything else. You will wipe your eyes and see that heaven is all around you, no matter the situation. It is our collective destiny to lift others up in a wave of love.