I’ve always wondered why being submerged in water felt like home. Why my body would relax, surrendering to something outside of itself. Why my thoughts quietened, and my spirit was soothed. I could never figure out why the water wrapping around my body, comforting me, gave me such a sense of peace.

When I died, I learned why being in water felt like home.

The first and last thing I saw when I realized I was dead was darkness. I was blanketed by a vast, expansive void. Pitch black without a glimmer or flicker of light. At first, I thought I was in some transitionary period. A limbo while awaiting judgement for heaven or hell. But the darkness did not cease because that’s not what happens when you die. 

The absence of light enveloped me for what felt like forever. Surprisingly, I didn’t need to adjust to the pure blackness. It was oddly comfortable, after having lived a bright, colorful life, to be surrounded by so much darkness.

The longer I spent in the pitch dark, the more detached from myself I felt. As if I was hovering in the darkness. Time and space felt distorted. As I thought about how strange this experience was, I realized I couldn’t feel the ground. I tried to wiggle my toes, but I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t feel my legs, hands, face, or any other of my body parts.

My thoughts scattered as a rush of emotions surged through me. It dawned on me that I was not in my body. The once expansive darkness began to close in on me. The thought of spending forever as a bodiless mass in the pitch dark by myself was suffocating. I felt a dull sensation come up from behind me as my mind continued to create more adverse scenarios. I ignored the sensation, assuming that I had finally started to lose my mind. The sensation returned, pulling me slightly forward. I ignored it again.

The third time, the sensation was so intense that it jolted me out of my thoughts. I tried to anchor myself in place as a gust pressed behind me, propelling me forward. I had no choice but to yield to the gust as its strength overpowered mine. I was forcefully liberated from the constraints of gravity as the gust guided me through the darkness. I floated effortlessly for what felt like hours until the gust that beckoned me came to a lull. I came to a soft stop and a cool wetness cradled me in a soothing embrace.

A surge of intense sensation came over me. I felt charged and invigorated. A vague sense of nostalgia washed over me as I gently mimicked the rhythm of the tide, swaying side to side with an alarming amount of precision. My thoughts quietened and my spirit felt soothed. An intangible but palpable presence surrounded me. The water felt different. It was charged with an electric energy that felt different than my own. I felt a tingle growing within me. The tingle grew more intense as the presences around me began to multiply. Peace and tranquility washed over me as I basked in the embrace. My ancestors were welcoming me back to the Cradle.

…

In the Cradle, there is no need for eyes to see, ears to hear, or a mouth to speak. The souls communicate with one another through Soultswana, a language of energy. Sensory and cognitive pathways are extraordinarily blended into the soul. Everything is felt.  In the Cradle, knowledge is intuitive. It comes to you when you need it.

I’ve always thought of life after death as a life full of frivolity. Basking in gilded streets, draped in luxurious silks. A life of pleasure and indulgent pursuits. I thought I would spend forever in a paradise, lounging in a whimsical eternal bliss and doing as I wish.

Soul life in the Cradle is not frivolous. The souls that lived their bodily lives gather daily to create new souls. We gather around the root that allows us to see into the lives of our bodily descendants. It is from here that we see where new souls are necessary. When a soul need is identified, we consider its environment and its destiny to determine its traits. Once we have carefully planned out a new soul and come to a consensus, we focus our energies, and a new soul emerges. The soul is immediately beckoned to the vast, expansive darkness where it waits until it is time to inhabit its body.

The longer I spend in the Cradle, creating new souls and conversing with those that lived before me, the more I learn. In my bodily life I never understood why some lives were shorter than others, why so many of my loved ones were taken from me. It all made bittersweet sense in the Cradle. Water is the giver and taker of souls.

As soul makers, we are often tasked with difficult decisions. The souls regularly take a soul back from their bodily life in order for another soul to live a more fulfilling bodily life. Soul Exchange deliberations are taken very seriously in the Cradle. We take our time to weigh the advantages, disadvantages, and destinies of both souls involved.

I was four years old when my grandmother was returned to the Cradle. Although I was blessed enough to have my maternal grandmother with me during my bodily life, the void my paternal grandmother left was never filled. I cried for days on end when my mother told me I would never see my grandmother again. I cried for her more than my cousins, who she raised. At her funeral, I begged my mother to let me see my grandmother one last time in her casket. Despite everyone’s apprehension and disapproval, my mother allowed me to see her.

When my grandmother died, I stopped eating guavas. They reminded me of the guava tree behind her house that she tended to religiously. I was always upset when people told me I remind them of her. It wasn’t fair that I was robbed of the chance to fully experience the love of this person that was so much like me. Now I know why I was so much like my grandmother, from the dip in my chin, the fullness of my cheeks, the crinkle of my eyes when I smiled, the bass in my voice, to my love for the sweeter things in life. When the Cradle takes a soul from their bodily life, parts of the sacrificed soul are embedded into the soul it is being sacrificed for.

Every Soul Exchange the souls make is approved by Bogare. Once the souls have convened and come to a unanimous decision, one soul is chosen to present the decision to Bogare on the behalf of all souls. After being a part of more than twenty soul exchange deliberations, I was finally entrusted with the responsibility of presenting our decision to Bogare.

The Crux, where Bogare resides, lays deep beneath the ocean floor. No one knows the exact location of Bogare’s Crux. She beckons the soul chosen to present the decision. The beckoning to the Crux was nothing like my journey form my bodily life to the Cradle. Bogare’s beckoning was fervent. I felt a sharp stinging as I was pulled downwards. It was a frenzy of forceful motion, the pressure dizzying. I was a mere passenger in a whirlwind of velocity, until I came to an abrupt but gentle stop.

The Crux was even more enigmatic than the Cradle. I never thought I would see anything darker than the vast, expansive blackness I experienced when I died, but the Crux was much darker and abysmal. I could not see Bogare the way I could see other souls, I felt her. An overwhelming sense of awe, reverence, and serenity is what Bogare felt like. A warmth behind me as the sensations grew more intense. When I turned around, I was blinded by a bright baby blue light. Despite how searing the brightness was, I could not turn away. My once pitch dark surroundings merged into a sea of pure luminosity as I was suspended in a void of colour. A current began thrumming from deep inside of me.

“Was this Soul Exchange decision reached unanimously?” The words boomed from deep within me in a melodic, firm and captivating voice.

“Yes”. This time, I felt the word slip out of my mind in a familiar voice, my voice.

“Then, it is so!” Boomed from deep within me again, melodic, firm, and captivating.

As Bogare’s final words reverberated around me, the bright blinding baby blue light began to fade back into the hollow darkness. The atmosphere grew colder as I felt the now familiar sharp stinging. I was pulled upward, moving with a dizzying amount of force. 

I came to a gentle stop and the cool wetness of the Cradle soothed me.

What is born of the water will return to the water.