Dancing Through the Tunnel: A Playful Take on Death’s Grand Adventure

So, here’s the thing — death. Yep, that big ol’ taboo that everyone tiptoes around like it’s a sleeping dragon. But guess what? It’s not a monster. It’s not even the end. It’s more like the next chapter in a cosmic choose-your-own-adventure book.

Most folks freak out about death not because of the body going kaput, but because of the unknown. That mysterious “what’s next?” beyond the curtain of time. But when you start tuning into your inner world — that quiet, wise part of you — death stops being a scary full stop and starts looking like a juicy transition. A bridge. A cosmic portal from the land of stuff to the realm of soul.

Now, death isn’t just about the body clocking out. There’s a whole energetic jazz happening behind the scenes. It’s like your psyche sends out a signal — “Hey, time to wrap up this Earth gig!” And that signal? It’s not empty. It’s packed with meaning, like a suitcase full of life’s greatest hits and missed cues.

As someone nears the end, their attention starts to drift inward — into what I like to call the Tunnel of Death. Sounds dramatic, right? But it’s not a horror show. It’s more like a magical slide between worlds. This tunnel is part of our psycho-spiritual blueprint. It’s the same vibe as birth — an entrance and an exit, both sacred, both wild.

Inside the tunnel, things get real. You float above your body, like a drone with feelings, and suddenly you’re watching your life like a movie. The good, the messy, the unresolved — all playing out in glorious HD. But here’s the twist: it’s not about judgment. It’s about clarity. Healing. Like finally understanding the plot twist you missed the first time.

As you glide deeper, the emotional baggage starts to unpack itself. Old hurts, sticky attachments, unresolved drama — they bubble up, get a cosmic rinse, and begin to dissolve. It’s like a soul spa. And sometimes, you bump into familiar faces — loved ones, guides, maybe even your childhood dog (hey, who knows?). These encounters aren’t just memories; they’re love in its purest form, showing up to say, “You did good.”

And then — the light. Oh, the light. Not a flashlight or a train (don’t worry), but the radiant essence of your true self. It’s the part of you that’s been cheering you on from behind the scenes, lifetime after lifetime. Some see it as a glowing being, others feel it as a deep knowing. Either way, it’s the final wink before merging with something vast and beautiful.

Now, while most souls exit through the crown (classic move), there’s a VIP route through the solar plexus — the cosmic belly button of spiritual power. If you’ve done the inner work, danced with your immortal self during life, this path offers a shortcut. No tunnel detours, just a direct flight to the divine.

And here’s the kicker: we’re living with death every single moment. It’s not lurking in the shadows — it’s woven into life itself. Like the bassline in your favorite song, always there, keeping the rhythm. When we stop fearing it and start vibing with it, life gets clearer, richer, more aligned with our eternal groove.

So let’s not whisper about death like it’s a secret. Let’s talk about it, dance with it, and maybe even laugh with it. Because in the grand cosmic play, death isn’t the villain — it’s just the scene change.

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Marc D Malamud

Transitioning Doula