Lianne Downey

Have you thought about what your heaven will look like?

At my age, there’s no shortage of friends and family on the other side or getting ready for that final passage. But a recent reviewer of my sci fi suspense novel, Perception, made me pause over this question.

I realized that when I write about higher-dimensional worlds, that’s what many people would call Heaven. And my concept probably differs from yours.

Since I also believe in the continuity of consciousness after death, I believe that without a body to hold you back, what you conceive is what you will experience

My first thoughts about the afterlife were influenced by the writings of the science visionary Ernest L. Norman, which is where I got the idea of higher-frequency dimensions, or higher dimensions for short.

In Norman’s book, The Voice of Venus, he leads us on a psychic tour of non-physical after-worlds where the buildings are built of the pure energy of Infinite Intelligence as channeled through the Advanced Minds who populate this shimmering place. The energy buildings look like crystal to our (inner) eyes. The gardens wink at us, too, with their sparkling grasses and twinkling flowers and endless palette of colors.

In Cosmic Dancer, my YA fantasy, I got to explore this scintillating vision of higher-dimensional afterlives. I use the plural because my concept encompasses the interdimensional science of reincarnation, i.e., an energy body that carries us from life to life, in and out of physical bodies. Our purpose? Soulic education and development. That means in my Cosmic Dancer heaven, my characters benefit from the instruction of Light Beings, advanced mentors who answer questions and teach anything a soul might want to pursue, or needs to learn.

I still love this vision of sparkling temples and enlightened mentors who love me unconditionally and also serve as my guides while I live in a flesh body on Earth. For sure, that will be one of my heavens, where I will walk through the restorative energy fountains and gawk at the towering temples, sit in a “class” taught by a Master in her field who might be communicating by telepathy in a place with no walls and no limitations.

But a few years ago, a student in one of our past-life awareness classes complained, “But what if I don’t want sharp crystal grass in my afterlife? I like Earth grass!”

I was jarred out of my rigidity. How could he not love crystal worlds? Hmmm…Put on the spot, I was forced to go back to, “We will be/go where our thoughts take us.”

Clearly his beacon of consciousness will create beauty as he enjoys it best. And he did me an excellent turn by breaking my spell.

Eh, Lianne, what about that, huh? Everyone’s heaven won’t look like yours!

And now I relish that fact, and look forward to visiting loved ones in their own afterlives. If our basic frequency remains compatible, that should be possible. Um, and yes, I realize that’s what a lot of you would call LOVE. The unbreakable kind. It’s like a highway that pulls you to and fro, from loved one to loved one, life after life.

Perception must have made my reviewer think of his own Heaven. I do take readers on a visit to a main character’s deceased grandmother. Her heaven has church windows and a choir. At least, until she acclimates to something more, at some future stage of her mental conception. I may have also hinted at other things in the book…

In his review, he mentioned my favorite Mark Twain story, Captain Stormfield’s Visit to Heaven, wherein the old sea captain discovers just how boring it can be sitting on a cloud, wearing a halo and strumming a harp you don’t know how to tune. He realizes there must be another option and sets off to discover it. The story was so controversial, Samuel Clemens made everyone promise it would not be published until 50 years after his death so as not to offend or frighten his devout wife.

I had the excellent good fortune to know and love an actual harp player, who died young in a tragic turn of events. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if HIS heaven included a full-on, tunable concert harp—and any aggrandizements he might fabricate for it, because he was also a supremely talented artist and builder of gigantic set pieces and floral displays. I look forward to visiting his heaven one day, but of course, not until the time is right.

For my sister, author of Lonesome for Wilderness, I suspect her heaven will be rich with dense forests, huge animals that leave good tracks, but also deserts and oceans and plenty of Nature mysteries to solve. Also, she’d have an energy body that feels no pain, and an endless supply of oil paints, easels, and watercolors, with the ability to gallop along any trail and follow any animal, ocean-going or land-based. Yeah, that’s a good start. It will be spectacular and it will also be on my tour agenda.

My old high school buddy Rhonda, who just passed four weeks ago, may wake up in a world that I would lay odds includes an excellent major league baseball team with an inside track to meeting all the players, plus a marathon to run in which she has endless energy and powerful muscles. I’m not as much of a sports fan but I will definitely pay her a visit to chat about old times.

For my husband? Right now I think his heaven will have to include a gas stove and a massive kitchen in which to create scrumptious edibles that are completely non-fattening. Somehow that’s going to fit into the little rose-covered cottage on a quiet lane that we’ve always considered our future home among the stars. That cottage will have to adjoin my towering temples and open-air classrooms that extend for miles and accommodate students from throughout our neck of the universe (meaning aliens we haven’t met for a few lifetimes). Oh, and it might need room for a couple of dogs we miss and a special canary. And a ballroom dance floor.

I now realize that my heaven is not going to be a static place, if all goes well. I want to visit all these other heavens, too, guided by my connections, my love, my frequency, and especially my aspirations. To be a paradise for me, it will also offer endless opportunities to expand my knowledge in support of future incarnations.

So, thanks to the people who have touched my Earth life in wonderful ways and made me think beyond previous limits, I will no longer be stuck with only one small garden full of crystal flowers and brittle grasses. (Although I’m told that energy crystals are very soft and pliable, that argument did not sway my friend who loves Earth’s beauty.)

I also better understand that we can create a “heaven” full of our worst doubts, fears, cruelties, and strictures, a uniquely personal place of torment. Just like we do on Earth. Except that, after the release from our bodies, it can take on a very “real” quality of entrapment. And just like on Earth, we hold the key to break free.

I must say, I’ve been there—both during and after life. How do I know? Flashbacks experienced during my years of past life study. How did I escape? With help from Friends in High Places. I had the sense to ask for that help, or if I didn’t, if I was too lost, then someone asked for me and sent in the Rescue Team. I think whether we’re living or “dead,” there’s always a beacon of some kind, if we but recognize it and follow. Those rescues do indeed draw upon the energy/prayers of loved ones who care, if you were wondering.

I also suspect it is helpful if we think of these things in advance, so as not to be caught off guard.

Or we might wind up like the grandmother in Perception and just tread water in one eddy for a long, long time. We might even sleep away the time between lives, if that’s what we believe. That is, until an especially bright wave comes along and offers to sweep us to a new and more expansive landing place. The choice will be ours, as Captain Stormfield discovers.

And no, you don’t have to wait until you leave your body. You are building your heaven right now. What does it look like so far?

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