The Intersection of Science, Spirituality, and My Journey to Wholeness

For as long as I can remember, I have never feared death. That’s not to say I don’t worry about leaving my children and the people I love. I don’t wish for them to be without me in the physical sense, but I’ve always sensed there’s more to this “reality” than meets the eye.

Sometimes, when I catch my reflection in the mirror, it’s as though I’m gazing at a stranger. The physical self I see is nothing like the expansive self I feel within. It’s as though this body—this container—feels alien, a temporary vessel for something far greater.

As an adult, I’ve always had multiple pets. Each one was deeply loved, and when they inevitably passed, I found myself explaining death to my children. Where do they go? What happens to them? My answer has always been rooted in the idea that energy cannot be destroyed—instead it endures. I tell them that our physical bodies are just temporary homes for our souls, which are the core of who we are, the light and energy within us. Even in death, I remind them, there is more. That energy doesn’t disappear; it simply exists in a different form, somewhere “out there.”

I’m not religious in the traditional sense. As such, I don’t believe in a man-shaped God residing in the sky or in the concepts of heaven and hell. Instead, I feel a connection to something larger, a powerful source I refer to as the “universe.” For others, this may be God or Spirit. The name doesn’t matter—what’s important is the shared sense that we are not alone, that there is so much more to existence than most of us can perceive.