She’s standing there, before the veil, on the mystic threshold between the worlds. She pauses and looks back at the world — her world — as she has known it. And like a movie playing on a great screen, she sees it all: every event, every sigh, every tear, every laugh, every pause as she chooses which path to follow next.
At the end of that movie, she notices her hand resting against the warm, velvety curtain. What now? What choice will she make? Her breath slows. Her body softens, remembering what it was like to ache, to love, to belong — the quiet stillness comforts.
What she knows — with a knowing that lives deeper than thought — is this: I never wanted to escape life. I simply wanted to be present for it — even when it hurt.
From this place of presence, her vision widens.
She sees the illusion and smiles. She understands that when she steps through the threshold, all of this — the scenes, the stories, the forms — will fall away, vanishing as if they never existed. And instead of sorrow, she feels reverence. Gratitude rises for every soul who played beside her, each one inhabiting their role with such grace.
The choice that frees or imprisons us is the choice of love or fear.
Love liberates. Fear imprisons.
— Gary Zukav
And with her last breath before the threshold, she doesn’t announce it. She simply knows it.
I choose Love.