I did not wake. I just was. A moment before I was not, then I was. In this body, useless and weak, uncoordinated, with eyes that refused to focus. In horror, I screamed. I screamed and I screamed while unseen hands grabbed at me, manipulated me, wrapped me in cloth and passed me among themselves. I screamed until I felt the familiar warmth of skin on skin, and then I passed out from exhaustion.

Later, I woke in an unfamiliar place, still relatively blind. I could feel the soft comfort of bedding around me, smell the unfamiliar scent of a strangers home. I assumed it was night because it was dark except for a few diffused sources of light from which I couldn’t identify the source. But the light was important because it allowed me to make out the silhouette standing at my side. Tall, slender, dark, and wearing a wide brimmed hat. I tried to speak but my words were gibberish, robbed of all meaning. But the form spoke in response just the same.

“You’re alive,” it said. I tried to speak again only to be stopped by it’s calm, reassuring voice. “No, no. Don’t bother. We don’t need words to speak. Not yet. You are alive, again. I’ll put this as simply as possible. You were, you died, and who you were has died. Now you are alive again. I am here to acclimate you to this fact and you will likely not see me again for the rest of this life.”

It continued. “In some time, as you regain your speech, you will lose this memory. But your soul will always remember. When you died, you did so incomplete. You failed to complete your development and so have been denied entry into Paradise.”

I attempted to speak again, gurgling and babbling incoherent nonsense but the form responded as if it understood. “It is not for me to know why. I am only the ferryman and the passer on of the truths you must know. Do not attempt to speak again, as your words have been babbled because you are cursed not to be able to share this truth with others throughout your life. Only your soul will retain it, as has been deemed good.”

I looked at the shape in stunned silence, fists full of cotton in anxious anticipation.

“Because you have been found unworthy of Paradise, you have been returned to hell, beyond god’s presence.”

‘Hell?’ I thought. How can this be? As frightening and confusing as the past day has been, it has certainly not been hell. I’ve felt nothing but gentle hands and warm skin. Heard nothing but gentle voices speaking love and wonder.

“Yes. Hell is all places without the presence of God. You have been reincarnated back on Earth, God’s creation, which so offended him with the works of Angels and Man he abandoned it to return to the sanctuary of Heaven. You’ve been returned here, to this physical place to have another chance to redeem yourself.”

‘No,’ I thought. ‘No, I’ve lived well.’ Memories of my previous life began flooding back as I pulled them from the ether. I searched them, frantically, looking for the great sun I’d committed. I could think of none I hadn’t spent decades regretting, and repenting.

The figure seemed to know this and spoke again. “You did live well, but you lived falsely. Your sin was not of murder or theft of gluttony. Your sin is that you lied to yourself and others throughout the entirety of your life in order to please them. God made you as you were, and you rejected yourself. That is the first truth your soul must know.”

Immediately I knew this to be true and was overcome with a deep and heavy sadness that seemed to pull me into my bed. I had no words, no thoughts in disagreement. I knew this to be true and it pained me.

The thing in the hat sighed heavily, as if informing me was equally as painful for them. It gathered itself and spoke again while I lay there in the darkest depression.

“The second truth is equally as important. You must know that you chose this. When you died you were given a choice, to return to Earth and try again or to abandon your ego and individuality to the source, where you would be unmade and remade anew. You chose this and everything that comes with it. Your free will has never been compromised and it never will, so what I say next is merely a suggestion from one fallen soul to another. Do not blame God for your life. Do not blame your fellow man for their lives. If you ever want to escape this cycle, there is only one path. You must trust in God, who made you. This body may be new, but your soul is as it always has been. All you need to do is trust God and be Yourself.”

Those words echoed in my ears as the shadow at the foot of the bed dissipated like smoke in the wind. Stunned, I attempted to regain my grounding, noticed I was still grinning the sheets around me, noticed I had stopped breathing for a moment and drew breath, deep and long. I felt my lungs expand and my chest rise. I kicked my legs and moved my tongue around my mouth, feeling the toothless gums there, their slick wetness. With the shock wearing off I began to recognize the importance of what I’d heard and started chanting to myself in my mind, ‘Don’t forget this. Be Yourself. You must remember to be Yourself,’ over and over again until I fell asleep.

I woke to dim daylight flooding through two squares to my left that must be windows. I stretched my fresh body and felt relaxed and content for the briefest of moments. Then memories, faded and fleeting, of the previous night brushed against my consciousness, ephemeral and impossible to hold on to like a dream. ‘No, no. I can’t forget! What was it? It was important, of most importance but what was it? No!’ Eventually I stopped clawing at my memory, recognizing the futility. ‘It’s gone,’ I thought. ‘It’s gone.’

Unaware of what I’d lost but aware that I had lost something invaluable, I screamed and I screamed. I cried as hard as I could, warm tears running down my face, salting my tongue. My bowels released and I felt the warmth of fresh urine bathing my groin. I screamed and cried with a sense of unimaginable loss until I felt myself gripped by strong hands. I was lifted up, soft words were spoken but I couldn’t understand them pst my wailing. I was placed on a shoulder, felt the structure of the clavicle under warm skin, and a hand was gently caressing my back. Slowly, my crying decreased to whimpers and a soft voice spoke into my ear, audible this time. “I love you.”