My father told me acceptance leads to forgiveness, which is vital for progression, according to him, but I don’t believe it’s quite as simple as that—for us, anyway—and not as easy. Believe me, I know it isn’t easy. I think acceptance can lead to forgiveness, but it’s too hard for most people. How do you accept a tyrant, a child molester, a rapist—a murderer? I had to accept that last one, although I did my best to stop the killer. But it doesn’t matter to me anymore. I can be objective—forgiving—because I’m no longer part of it all. Because ultimately, in the grand scheme of things, the tribulations in this life are not so important, not compared to what happens next, the wondrous things that will come to each and every one of us.
What’s helped me begin to understand is this gradual disconnection with the world I’ve always known—the place you’re living in now. Jealousy, deceit, anger, acquisition—it’s all trivial as far as the big picture is concerned, and it fades into insignificance when you’re totally free of those imperfections yourself. That’s why I’ve forgiven Andrea, Oliver and Sydney. My mother too. As for my father, it seems there was nothing to forgive. I’ve accepted the emotional pain they caused me. It isn’t easy, nor that simple, but the more my presence here wanes, the easier and simpler it becomes.
The only person I’ve not yet fully forgiven is myself, because I had some of those imperfections or faults I mentioned. But I’m working on it.
You know, even Alexandra Moker should have accepted her disfigurement, but unfortunately it—and the lifetime of rejection she suffered—corrupted her mind and soul. I think she’ll get another chance though, but it’s only a guess.
I don’t expect to be around much longer. But that’s okay. I’ve seen a lot. I’ve finally taken excursions into the countryside and even though I’m becoming more distant from this world, the true beauty of nature took my breath away (metaphorically speaking, yet again!).
I’ve spent ages in art galleries, really looking at paintings and sculptures, really absorbing them and, for the first time, truly appreciating the artists’ intent.
I’ve explored famous old buildings and some spectacular new ones, museums too, gaining insights into other times, other civilizations.
I went to the palace to see the queen again—she wasn’t in the first time. Very tedious, not the kind of life you and I would like, I promise you.
I’ve sat in parliament and, believe me, most MPs are just as lazy and self-important as we think they are.
One dark and beautiful night I tried to reach the stars, but never even got as far as any helicopter might fly. Something pulled me back and I knew it wasn’t gravity; it was as if I’d reached my limits and my own will would not take me further. But I saw stars and planets as I’d never seen them before, zillions of them, each one a separate dazzling jewel.
I’ve seen over our world from a new perspective and I can assure you, it’s more fabulous than you could ever imagine.
Now time’s running out for me.
I can feel myself slowly vanishing, my mind gradually becoming disenfranchised from this place. Look at my arm. It’s almost transparent. And by the way you’re squinting at me, I suspect the rest of me is disappearing too. It’s okay. I feel ready to leave.
Am I afraid? My destiny was daunting to me, but that’s not so anymore. In fact, I’m eager to go on. There are many more answers on the other side as well as more mysteries. I know, because not only have I become acutely sensitive to this world and its meaning, but I’m already beginning to perceive something of the next. I think it’s going to be incredible.
It’s been good to meet you and get so much off my chest. It’ll help me forget the hurt. You’re the only one I’ve been able to communicate with in my wandering, so thanks for listening. Ghosts, yes, but not out-of-body spirits like you. Besides, they never wanted to chat. I glimpsed Moker before and she glimpsed me, but it wasn’t the same as this. There was no contact. Incidentally, I feel I ought to warn you to beware of the OBEs—look what happened to me—but I know you have no choice. Just don’t journey too far away from your host body, okay? And if you can, always leave it somewhere safe.
You know, my feelings of being drawn away from this life have been growing stronger even as I’ve been speaking to you. I think my departure is more imminent than I expected.
Take care of yourself and remember what I said about acceptance. It can resolve many things. And again, be cautious in your spirit state—you’re leaving your body very vulnerable. Don’t abuse your gift, use it only for good things or not at all. Learn things and treat your body like the temple it is. Treat it with reverence—it’s more valuable than you know. Oh, and I hope you didn’t mind my little digressions from the main story. Just thought you might be interested. Besides, I haven’t had the chance to talk like this for quite a while.
Okay. Got to go now.
More things to see before it’s too late. More things to understand.
Take good care of yourself. Don’t neglect your body. Appreciate it.
Hey, you’re fading too. Your body wants you back. Try and remember this—it might just help.
Take good care.
See you eventually…
In another pla—
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James Herbert is not just Britain’s Number One bestselling writer of chiller fiction, a position he has held since publication of his first novel, but is one of our greatest popular novelists, whose books are sold in thirty-five other languages, including Russian and Chinese. Widely imitated and hugely influential, his twenty-one novels have sold more than fifty million copies worldwide.