“I think Heaven will be like a first kiss.” -Sarah Addison Allen, The Sugar Queen.
I would like to invite you to participate in what I hope will be an interesting experience for all.
For years, I have kept a personal Journal, and over the last few years I have entered several versions of what I’ve called “Visions of Heaven”. What I mean by this is not so much the traditional Heaven as described by most of the Western religions traditions, but, rather, “Heaven” in the sense of “Paradise”- that is, the best place you can imagine. What Henry James once called “The Great Good Place”, in his short story of that name.
What I invite you to do is imagine yourself in the best possible place you can think of. I would like you to be as specific as you can- to fill in details about what the place feels like. Where are you? What scents are carried on the breeze? What is the weather like? What textures and colors do you feel and see? Who else is there, if anyone is? What are you doing?
I would ask you to go beyond generalities, like “A world without hatred”, desirable as they may be, and selfishly, pleasurably put yourself in the picture of a perfect place, at a perfect time, dictated only by your need for absolute satisfaction and happiness.
I think you’ll find that, for a variety of reasons, this will not be as easy as it might, at first, appear. Most of us are taught what we should want, and it is difficult for us to allow ourselves to access (much less write down) what it would be like to be truly contented. The Puritanism that is one of the cornerstones of our country’s foundation views with suspicion most things relating to satisfaction, insisting that we must strive, always. In this exercise, we put striving aside (unless that is your idea of Heaven), and imagine Perfection. Make a deal with your ever-vigilant Critic: you’ll return to your every day tasks in a few minutes, and when you do, you’ll be better for this little time out. Happens to be true.
I think the best way to do this is to make some time and sit with it, like a meditation. Start with a general place and situation- a beach, a mountain top, a message table- and then, patiently, allow yourself to fill in details, as I’ve suggested above. Slow your breathing, and let your body relax into it. Remember that, since this is all about your imagination, you can change any detail at will, now or later. You’ll find that the closer you get to your ideal, the more relaxed you’ll feel. When we imagine ourselves as happy and contented, our mind and body come along for the ride. You’re actually (as a side effect) doing yourself some measurable good, as you sit and breath, think and feel.
What I hope you’ll do is try it, and, if you wish, share your experience, and your own “Good Place” with us all. To prime the pump, here is what feels (right now) like the best of the several visions I’ve imagined:
A Vision of Heaven
I am sitting on the veranda of a cabin, situated somewhere on the North Coast. The Pacific Ocean is a five minute walk away, down a little path to the left, and I can faintly hear the breakers, when the wind is right. It’s a warm day, in the 80s, but I’m shaded on the veranda, and the soft, gentle breeze, carrying the scent of dried grasses, is pleasant.
My chair is comfortable, and next to it is a table on which I’ve placed a plate containing a few chunks of nice cheese, some crackers, and some cured olives. There’s a bottle of some earthy California red wine, and a half filled glass, from which I sip, now and then. There’s also a little boom-box, carrying a Giants’ game; they’re in contention this August; one run up in the sixth inning of a great pitcher’s duel. The volume of the radio is turned down very low, so I can hear the breeze, as it moves the long grasses in the meadow the cabin overlooks.
I’m watching a redtail hawk, working the meadow. It’s been at it for the last ten minutes or so, gliding gracefully, scarcely moving its wings, from one end of the field to the other. There are what I suppose to be a couple of hawks roosting nearby, and they tend to work this field about this time every afternoon. attracted by the updraft from the sunwarmed earth.
I cut a piece of cheese, put it on a cracker, and wash it down with a sip of the wine: a perfect melding of tastes. It would be nice to go inside and take an afternoon nap, but the game is too close, and I want to see how it comes out, so I sit and watch the hawk (who will move on to another field soon, if he doesn’t turn up a mouse), and think drowsy thoughts. After my nap, I’ll probably walk down to the beach, to watch the sun set. For now, there’s nothing to do but feel the pleasure of complete relaxation and contentment, watching the hawk and hoping the game doesn’t go into extra innings- although, that would be nice, too.
-So, that’s what I mean. Just a moment, a perfect moment in time, in the most perfect setting you can imagine. I’m alone in mine, but yours may be populated with anyone (or anything) you choose. The fun of the exercise is the process of building the moment, bit by bit, trying this and discarding that, until you have achieved what feels like perfect satisfaction. That may change, as you revisit it. That’s fine; let it. It will grow more and more real for you with passing time, as you add details and spend time there.
You can, of course, return to this place, this Good Place, as often as you wish, whenever opportunity presents itself. It is your place. No one can find fault with it, or modify it in any way; it is entirely yours. You may find yourself imagining unpleasant things that could happen there. When that happens, remember that you have complete control; nothing happens there that you do not create.
If you choose to take some time to do this, I hope you will share it with us. I’d love to hear not just what your vision is, but also what the experience of creating it was like for you. Whether or not you share it, I hope you take the time, and that the experience is a good one. It may tell you some things about yourself and, who knows, it may even give you some ideas for how you can make changes in the physical world you come back to. That’ll be up to you.
In the meantime, I wish you Happy Trails (the happiest you can imagine), Buckeroos, and be sure and write!