“Since arriving back home I just couldn’t help myself (like I said, it’s a flow state), I needed to get the words that are unsaid out of my heart and mind, and so here is something for everyone here reading this sad news and specifically everyone who’s lives were touched by Mathias. We will ascertain the truth of the matter, but in the meantime maybe this will help…
‘The Gentle Crossing’
There is an ancient understanding, whispered across countless cultures and carried forward through generations, that some souls are chosen for the gentlest of crossings. Mathias was one of these.
On Friday night, as the world settled into its familiar rhythm of rest, he lay down as he had thousands of times before. But this sleep would be different — not the shallow rest of tired bodies, but the deep surrender of souls ready for their next adventure.
The Tibetans speak of this as the most blessed of transitions, when awareness slips not through trauma or fear, but through the velvet darkness of peaceful slumber.
In those quiet hours before dawn, while his body rested in perfect stillness, his spirit began the sacred work of letting go. Layer by layer, like a traveller setting down heavy packs at journey’s end, he released the earthly bindings that had held him. His breath became the rhythm of tides returning to the eternal ocean. His heartbeat became the drumming of ancient ceremonies calling him home.
The traditions tell us that in this moment — this precious threshold between worlds — the soul experiences what mystics call the Clear Light. It is said to be brighter than a thousand suns yet gentle as moonlight on water. Those who have prepared their whole lives through love, through friendship, through the simple act of being good to others, recognise this light immediately. They do not resist. They do not struggle. They step forward like children running toward the embrace of someone they have always known.
In the Celtic understanding, Mathias has entered the Otherworld — that place the Irish called the Land of the Living, where there is no pain, no aging, no sorrow. The Norse would say his spirit was welcomed into the halls where heroes feast, not because he died in battle, but because he lived with honour. The Hindus would recognise his peaceful passing as the fruit of a life well-lived, his final thought one of tranquillity, ensuring his onward journey toward light.
For forty-nine days, the Buddhists tell us, Mathias travels through landscapes of pure possibility. But he does not travel alone. Every act of love he performed, every moment of joy he shared, every time he eased someone’s burden or brightened someone’s day — these become his companions now, his guides, his light in any darkness he might encounter.
The African wisdom-keepers would say he has joined the ancestors, but not as someone who is gone. He has become someone who watches over, who blesses, who remains woven into the fabric of those who loved him.
When you feel a sudden warmth on a cold day, when you hear laughter that reminds you of his, when you find yourself smiling at a memory — these are not coincidences. These are visits, gentle reminders that love doesn’t end, it simply changes form.
To those who grieve his passing: your sorrow is the other side of love, and it honours him. But know this — Mathias chose the kindest leaving. No struggle, no suffering, no fear. He simply stepped from one kind of sleep into another, deeper and more peaceful than any rest he had ever known. The Russian mystics called death “sleep” for this very reason — because for the soul prepared by love, it is exactly that gentle.
Some say that in the moments before this sacred sleep, all souls are shown the full tapestry of their lives. If this is true, then Mathias saw how many hearts he touched, how much laughter he brought into the world, how much he was loved. He saw that his life mattered, that his friendship was a gift, that he would be remembered not just for how he died, but for how fully, how well, he lived.
And now, from whatever realm of light and peace he inhabits, he sends back the only message that matters: I am well. I am at peace. The love we shared continues. Until we meet again in that place where there is no goodbye, carry me with you not as sorrow, but as joy. Remember not my leaving, but my being here. And know that every sunset I see, every dawn that breaks, every moment of beauty that unfolds — I see with eyes unclouded by pain, and I am grateful for every second we had together.
In the end, perhaps this is the deepest truth: Mathias didn’t die in his sleep. He was simply carried by sleep to the place where love goes to wait for us all.
Rest well, dear friend. Your journey continues, and love travels with you.
“Amo Probos”” – Obliged to See
