Seven embraces all other numbers unconditionally–what was and what will be. Seven is sanctified, destined, spiritual, 7 is Universal Love.
Fear is the opposite of love. It separates our heart from our mind while oozing an oily film of irrational sense. Fear covers the light and love of truth and freedom with an ironclad basket of materialistic desires. And fear is the primary tool of institutional materialistic greed and power.
There is an esoteric Buddhist prayer that contains words of personal destiny. It basically says that you will know 7 days hence your “passing over” or physical death so that you may put your affairs in order. 7 Days.
What would you do if you had the knowledge that in 7 days you would die, not 6, not 8 but 7?
I have had people tell me that they’re into the “stock market” for the long term. I don’t think they were figuring on 7 days. So would they sell all the stocks and count their money for the 7 days? See in heaven, they don’t accept American Express, so you can’t take your stocks or money with you.
Would you throw a parade in your honor because you are worth millions/billions of dollars, or you hold a high position in industry or government, or maybe you are a Bishop or the Pope? Oh, that’s right, in heaven they only look at your light, your love, your actions, your words, your thoughts, your heart and your soul’s evolution. Sorry gang, there are no positions of power in heaven. Of course, you could wrestle with an Archangel to take over their position. Ah, even if you won, you would be instantly transported back to earth re-incarnated as a worm. Please don’t judge the value of a worm. And I never said that heaven was fair.
Of course, there are other ways to spend your last 7 days on earth. Life is eternal, so you will possibly be back on earth again, or if your love and light is bright enough, off to another part of creation—maybe even as a Vulcan or as an Archangel to help guide another star system.
7 Days. You could gather your family and loved ones around you and laugh and cry, kiss and hug and say, “I love you.” You could write that myth of your life or your memoirs that you have always been meaning to write for oh so many years, but something else continually came up and took preference over your myth/memoir.
You could let go of any enemies and make them your friends. And you could lie in the grass, or in the snow, or dance while singing in the rain. Does it really matter that you might catch a cold? You could kiss the trees and talk to the animals. I guess there are many other things that you could do.
So let me ask you a question. What would you do?