Coming Back To Life by P.M.H. Atwater
What it feels like to die... What death is.
The after-effects of the near-death experience.
After discovering death isn't, comes the discovery God is.
A journal of one man's path toward spiritual enlightenment by physical
and mental purity, fasting, raw food diet, few words, natural living,
good works, right thinking, and exhilaration of the mind
by following the guidance of the Inner Voice.
Please,
see "Home" for more information.
P.M.H. ATWATER
Inside Cover
Atwater is earnest, helpful, boldly honest, as she considers her experiences and that of dozens of others who emphasize the after-effects. The near-death experience, or 'lightflash,' is often the necessary psychic shove a person needs to initiate the spiritual life and is apparently identical to many spiritual experiences reported by mystics." East West " There is a need for research on many aspects of near death experiences; Phyllis's contribution makes compelling reading." Raymond A. Moody, Jr., M D. "Phyllis Atwater has made a significant and pioneering contribution not only to the literature on near death experiences, but also to our more general understanding of the long term impact of powerful subjective experiences on overall human values and behavior. Coming Back to Life is thoughtful, provocative and personal. This book is bound to become a classic reference work in its field." Keith Harary, Ph.D. Research Director " Coming Back to Life, whether reader has had a near-death experience or not, makes fascinating reading. It deals with a puzzling, complex subject in a personal and direct manner, much like the engaging personality of the author." Idaho Press-Tribune
Contents Acknowledgments ix |
Introduction
Several years ago, when I still engaged in my early research into near-death experiences, I came across a reference to a book with a title so unabashedly straightforward that it stopped my usually nystagmic gaze in its wobbly tracks. Died Three Times in 1977, it declared.
Well, if a title is supposed to make you curious, this one had certainly hooked me, so I found myself writing straight-a-way to the author—one P. M. H. Atwater—for a copy.
I couldn't help wondering about the author's name, too: all those initials tended to conjure up an image of an Englishman of rather pronounced reserve. When I received my copy of the book, however, I learned that I had been wrong on all three counts.
This was hardly a reserved Englishman — it wasn't even a man living behind all those initials. To the contrary, this was friendly Phyllis from Idaho (of all places!), and she was (as I was later to learn when we met face to face) as warm and delightful as a ray of sunshine on a cloudy spring day.
I was right about one thing, though:
Phyllis did have a forthright style, as her book title had suggested
to me. Her use of language is spare, to the point and full of zip.
And her tone is always intensely practical. As Phyllis says, "If
you can't scrub floors with what you know then it isn't worth knowing."
And so, in that same style of pith and verve which has been her journalistic
trademark, Phyllis Atwater speaks to us in this book on a subject which she
has made her specialty over the last few years: What it is like for a survivor
of a near-death experience to come back to "ordinary life" after
having glimpsed the realm of "the eternal."
On this matter, Phyllis is, I believe, uniquely qualified to address us. Not only has she had her own near-death experience (actually, three of them, as you will recall), but since 1977, she has spent countless hours talking in-depth with hundreds of near-death survivors about how they have dealt with the aftermath of their own experiences.
In addition, she has for several years now been writing a regular column, called "Coming Back," for the Magazine, Vital Signs, which is a periodical sent to all the members of the International Association for Near-Death Studies, an organization dedicated to the exploration and understanding of near-death experiences.
Finally, and especially for this book, Phyllis has carried out a systematic questionnaire study with forty more near-death experiencers that focuses on issues related to problems of coming back.
As a result of her personal experiences
in coming to terms with her own near-death episodes and her wide-ranging
exploration of others' coping with the same problem, Phyllis has amassed
a wealth of knowledge and insights on this subject that is, I am convinced,
unsurpassed by any other researcher in the field.
Furthermore, beyond the sheer amount of information Phyllis has compiled on
this question, she brings a new and fresh perspective to it as well. For in
Phyllis' case, she can obviously speak not merely as a researcher, but also
as an experiencer herself.
As such, she knows directly and intimately certain aspects of the process of coming back that may elude or be misunderstood by researchers who have not had this experience.
And more than this, because Phyllis is not constrained by the usual caution of academicians, she is able to probe fearlessly into controversial areas of this experience that more conventional investigators are inclined to bypass or overlook altogether.
In this connection, it is worth noting here that Coming Back to Life brings to light two related aspects of the transformative process following near-death experiences that earlier research tended to gloss over or miss completely.
The first is Phyllis' attempt — and to me it is a very persuasive one— to show just how long and difficult the process of psychological integration following this experience can be. Ultimately, that process can lead to enormous fulfillment and expansion of consciousness, but the road to that end is lined with a multitude of ditches, obstacles and blind alleys which Phyllis manages to illuminate brilliantly.
A second point here is that though the
near-death experience may well involve an experience of Light, it does
not make for instant enlightenment. A near-death experience is or can
be an awakening of sorts, but it is only a beginning in the arduous
task of full awakening and should, she cautions us, be regarded by
experiencers and others as only an opportunity to grow into greater
awareness.
Now, one might well contend that however intrinsically fascinating this process
of coming back may be (and few will be bored with the dynamics described in
this book), it must be of decidedly limited interest because, after all, how
many people have actually had near-death experiences? Such
an objection, at first hearing, seems cogent enough, but it turns out to be
totally misguided for several reasons, as we shall see.
First of all, according to a recent survey conducted by the Gallup Poll, it
is estimated that perhaps as many as eight million adult Americans have already
had at least one near-death experience! Not a trivial number — and
one that excludes children, who have also reported experiences of this kind.
We have learned that near-death experiences
occur in other parts of the world as well and that at least in Western
countries they take the same form described by Phyllis, so presumably
we are dealing with a phenomenon that has been experienced by many
millions of persons across the globe.
Second, as Phyllis points out, with the spread and increasing perfection of
resuscitation technology, it is probable that the incidence of near-death experiences
throughout the world will increase substantially in the short-term future.
On this assumption, Phyllis appears to be treating a phenomenon that is not
only widespread but destined to be even more pervasive before the end of this
millennium.
Third — and in this interpretation Phyllis stands in accord with most
other researchers of the near-death experience — the process of change
and transformation that she describes for us here is NOT limited to persons
who have had a near-death experience. There are many other ways besides coming
close to death by which people can have this same kind of experience and can
be catapulted into a similar process of spiritual growth.
Thus, the near-death experience is simply one currently publicized example of a more general type of transcendental experience leading to a profound alteration of one's somatic, psychological, and interpersonal functioning.
This book, then, is by no means merely
about what happens to near-death experiencers only; it deals with the
much larger question of the effects of transformative experiences in
general, many of which, like the near-death experience, involve a death
and rebirth motif.
This leads us to the fourth reason this book has a much wider scope than might
be supposed. What Phyllis is really delineating here is not just the difficult
process of psychological and social integration following a near-death experience,
but a pattern of evolutionary change that humanity is now about to undergo.
In agreement with other researchers of the near-death experience — though Phyllis reached her own conclusions independently — Phyllis sees in this experience and its transformative effects a possible evolutionary catalyst for the next stage in humanity's psycho-spiritual development.
In making her argument here, she, like several other researchers, draws our attention back to the pioneering work of the Canadian psychiatrist, Richard Maurice Bucke, and his book, Cosmic Consciousness. Modern research into the near-death experience is doing much to bring this book back into prominence, for it was Bucke who helped to popularize a similar hypothesis at the beginning of this century.
In this respect, then, Phyllis Atwater is dealing with matters of the widest possible scope and relevance, as the destiny of our entire species is her central issue. In any case, I hope I have said enough to indicate to you that Coming Back to Life is a book that all readers interested in the process of human transformation should find deeply absorbing.
And though I have insisted that the range of this book takes it far beyond the realm of near-death experiences and their after-effects, it is also the case that researchers in this field will find it a rich trove of testable insights and provocative interpretations, consideration of which should further advance studies in this area.
It goes without saying that those to whom this book may prove most personally meaningful are those millions of near-death survivors, and their families and friends, for it is to them that the findings, advice, and wisdom of Coming Back to Life are especially pertinent.
In writing this book, Phyllis Atwater
will have helped many to come back more easily, with deeper self-understanding,
and with a greater capacity to contribute to humanity's continuing
evolution. For this all of us stand in debt to the author of Coming
Back to Life.
Kenneth Ring, Ph.D.
Near Death Experience
Near-Death Survivors
" On the day when death will knock
at thy door, what will thou offer him? I will set before my guest the
full vessel of my life. I will never let him go with empty hands."
Sir Rabindranath Tagore
I am a near-death survivor. That means I am one of those
people who died but didn't stay dead. I came back. While "dead," I
experienced something quite extraordinary, something far beyond
my understanding at the time it occurred, even beyond my ability to
articulate or believe.
I experienced "The Other Side." I passed through death. Much has now been written about people like myself and what happened to us, for to have experienced anything at all after dying has always seemed impossible, absurd, an infantile projection of wishful thinking, or some kind of hallucination.
What happened to us seems to contradict
death's finality. For this reason we have been studied; researched,
interviewed, and analyzed by all manner of professionals.
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, M.D., was the first to publicly speak out about the
existence of the near-death phenomenon, a unique situation where people who
revive after being considered "dead" give detailed accounts of leaving
their body, passing into a light and, in some cases, visiting "heavenly" realms.
Raymond Moody, M.D., further explored this
phenomenon, writing Life After Life to describe his findings. In this
book, which became a global bestseller, Moody outlined a repetitious
pattern to the event as revealed by the stories of survivors. This
pattern was later
verified scientifically by Kenneth Ring, Ph.D., and reported in his
book Life at Death.
The work of these three pioneers set the stage for all that followed — all
the research, experiments, and scholarly writings — all the magazine and
newspaper headlines. Many were the professionals who, convinced they could easily
discredit the whole thing as a hoax, proved it very real and very credible, regardless
of whether the death event was clinical or an unverified claim.
So far no one
has been able to disprove any of the original findings; yet, by the same token,
no one has been able to fully explain any of them, either.
A 1982 Gallup Poll survey indicated that about eight million Americans believe
they have experienced the near-death phenomenon, either as a result of brushing
close to death, nearly dying, or after being pronounced dead.
George Gallup, Jr., admitted the estimate conservative, with perhaps twenty-three million being a more accurate figure. And that is just in the United States. Far from being some short-lived novelty, reportings are on the rise, born in this country and throughout the world. Better resuscitation methods and more effective medical care are turning more and more people from the brink of death and reviving some who were "lost."
And more and more of these people speak
of being quite alive after they died. Latest estimates figure forty
percent
of all resuscitated
patients will have a near-death experience.
Thanks to the media, scientific assessments of this puzzling enigma are
well reported. But is there more to the story? What about the survivor's
view? What
do these people have to say — about what happened, about death, about
life after death? What about afterwards, when they return to society? Are
there after-effects?
This missing element constitutes the rest of the story, for there is more,
much more—and plenty of surprises, as well. To begin with, there are two near-death survivors who conducted their own
original research on the subject independent of other findings and
unknown to each other.
One is Margot Grey, a British psychologist, who based her masters thesis on such material and then later wrote the book Return From Death, which wound up further validating Kenneth Ring's work, including his more current ideas about various types of transformational experiences which he detailed in Heading Toward Omega.
The two psycholo0gists
had met each other once, but they never discussed each other's projects.
Margot's focus was British cases and what could be learned from them,
then how such cases compared with those reported in the United States.
Although
her work is of her own doing, what many people do not realize is that
her efforts were fueled by the fact that she, too, is an experiencer.
The other one is me. Both Margot end I began writing our books in 1983
and finished in 1984, but she published first, undoubtedly because
her approach to the subject was more professional academically. Coming
Back was different, perhaps too much so to be
taken seriously, so I wrote it again and again, searching for a way
to make it more acceptable
without compromising what it contained.
The book you are reading at
this moment is version seven, a product of five years and more work
and determination
than I care to recount. I am not college-trained, except for one
semester of beginning drafting and illustrated geometry at Boise State
University
in Idaho. I did not set out to research anything. I just wanted to
survive.
th
What this book contains is an "accident," a by-product, if
you will, from the experiences I survived in 1977 that so radically changed
my life and me with it, that life "as usual" became impossible.
I had never heard the term "near-death" until Elisabeth
Kiibler-Ross used it.
Raymond Moody and Kenneth Ring were unknown
to me. All I knew
was that I had to make sense of what had happened to me. Although
the experience itself was important, I instinctively knew that
what came after was more important.
A passage from the Christian Bible showed me the way out of my
dilemma. It read, "For those who knock the door is opened." I
took this passage literally and began my "knocking" by
accepting a request to share the story of what I had experienced
while at the "edge of death." Certainly the sharing
was sincere, but my real goal was the hope that such a public appearance
might attract other near-death survivors.
I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask of such people. It worked. Two other experiencers came to that first talk. This began a quest that led me through ten states to speak with several thousand people and to find over two hundred other survivors.
Once met, we would cry, kiss, and
hug each other, and share more deeply than I have ever shared
with
anyone. I asked my questions, more than I ever dreamed I would,
and the answers I received enabled me to rebuild my Me with
renewed faith and joy.
Nothing more would have ever come from all that "research" had
it not been for Kenneth Ring who, after tracing me
through a small publication I had written, asked that I write
magazine articles about what I had learned, then later suggested
that I produce a book.
Writing such a book would
necessitate "real" research
and more legwork, but the idea that others might
benefit from what had once helped me spurred me
on. Yes, I would write such a book.
It would be for the purpose of helping others to help themselves.
This is the result.
The bulk of material contained herein came from my original
quest. No one else influenced that acquisition, for the only
need that
seemed important at the time was pure survival.
I did not have benefit of learned advice then, nor was I privy to any kind of material that might have made a difference. I was on my own. Expenses came out of my own pocket except for occasions when donations were offered. Skills of observation and listening were the tools I used, for I am analytical by nature, curious by choice.
Even though most of my attention focused on the aftermath of surviving death, enabling me to isolate a pattern to the after-effects, I first want to briefly share a few things I noticed about the event in general and about those who experienced it.
The Universal Experience
Historical
precedent offers a wealth of documentation to validate the near-death
experience. Even Plato wrote of such phenomenon
in his story of Er, the soldier, whose dead body laid
in waste beside his fallen comrades for ten days. When at last help
came many were puzzled, for the body of Er had not
decayed
as had the others. Confused, his relatives took him
home for burial and upon the funeral pyre he revived, stood up, and
recounted for all to hear what he had learned while
on "The
Other Side."
Throughout recorded history there are such writings,
and the connecting threads between them are the same
as those
found
today. Revelations, like those of Er, are as incredible
now as ever before and just as accurate; impossible
revelations which could not have been known in advance. And
each is coherent, lucid, detailed, consistent and sound,
unlike mere
dream images or hallucinations. People of different
religions and of different cultures report the same basic phenomenon
in much the same manner, even children, and those I
met
were no exception.
But recently, a startling discovery, was made. Tiny babies
can have a near-death experience, too! Reporting's
are few, but enough have been made to confirm that
small infants who brush death, nearly die, or
who, revive after death seemed final, can not only experience
the same
near-death pattern as adults, but they can remember
what happened long enough to describe it clearly once they
are older and
attain proficiency with language.
This
discovery makes it even more important that serious
scientific studies
of children's experiences be conducted, and that
the surgical techniques and the treatment of tiny babies in crisis
be rethought because of later implications from memory.
During my own quest to understand, one question I often asked was, "How
long were you dead?" Time estimates are difficult, of course,
because the death event requires immediacy plus the undivided
attention of any attendant who might be present.
People in such situations seldom check a clock. But as near as anyone could guess, the average time "out" was thought to be five minutes. Many were "gone" longer, one for over an hour.
Before exploring what I found any further, allow me to review what
is now considered the universal prototype of the near-death experience.
This pattern consists of eight basic elements:
1. A sensation of floating out of one's body, often followed
by an out-of-body experience where all that goes on around
the "vacated" body
is both seen and heard accurately.
2. Passing through a dark tunnel or black hole or encountering
some kind of darkness. This is often accompanied by a feeling
or sensation of movement or acceleration. "Wind" may
be heard or felt.
3. Ascending toward a light at the end of the darkness, a light
of incredible brilliance, with the possibility of seeing people,
animals, plants, lush outdoors, and even cities within that light.
4. Greeted by friendly voices, people, or beings, who may be
strangers, loved ones, or religious figures. Conversation can
ensue, information
or a message may be given. Activity such as this is referred
to as a "scenario."
5. Seeing a panoramic review of the life just lived, from birth
to death or in reverse order, sometimes becoming a reliving
of the life rather than a dispassionate viewing. The person's life
can be reviewed in its entirety or in
segments. This is usually accompanied by a feeling or
need to assess losses or gains during the life to determine what
was learned
or not learned. Other beings can take part in this judgment-like
processor offer advice.
6. A reluctance to return to the earthplane, but invariably realizing
either their job on earth is not finished or a mission must yet be
accomplished before they can return to stay.
7. Warped sense of time and space, discovering time and space do
not exist, losing the need to recognize measurements of life either
as valid or necessary.
8. Disappointment at being revived, often feeling a need to shrink
or somehow squeeze to fit back in to the physical body. There
can be unpleasantness, even anger or tears, at the realization
they are now back in their bodies and no longer on "The
Other Side."
This, of course, is a general pattern. Few episodes contain
all eight elements. Most have about half; some two or three. All
manner
of variations can occur. In talking with other survivors and
hearing their stories in detail, I can attest to the fascinating
variety
of accounts; and, although similar to the overall prototype,
each individual case has its own particular difference.
For instance, one woman I spoke
with saw herself encased within a blue bubble which floated over her lifeless body pinned by twisted steel in a
car accident. Hers was a typical out-of-body experience, yet it had features unique to her (the "blue bubble").
Here are more examples of what
I mean: a man in a respirator saw and felt
himself held by "a giant hand," a younger woman
described "straddling a light beam and touring the universe," another man saw nothing at all but heard "a
thundering voice" speak to him giving specific instructions for
a job he was to perform once he returned to the world of the
living."
I noticed that some fellow survivors would describe the presence
of a broad field of steady light that held constant throughout
then experience
while others saw smaller, flashing lights of various colors. There
were out-of-body experiences who left the location of their body
and went outdoors or traveled to see friends or relatives who lived
far away.
A few of these "travelers" were
physically seen and recognized when they "arrived" at their
destination, appearing as usual in every way, even though their "corpse" remained
at the sight of the death event, unmoved and unmoving. No one had
any explanation to offer as to how such a "bi-location" could
have happened. It just did.
Some scenarios told to me involved huge cities of gold and temples
of rare beauty with inset gems. There were survivors who claimed
to have met with historically famous religious leaders while
others were greeted by a next-door neighbor or loved ones who had
recently
passed on.
Survivors would describe those on "The Other Side" as appearing human and wearing modern clothes, though some witnessed these people in historical raiment, without clothes, or angel-like in shape. Others observed these people as "beings of light," without any recognizable shape at all except globular, cylindrical, or a glowing mass.
Lengthy dissertations ensued in
some cases or there would be question-and-answer sessions,
revelations of life's secrets, tribunal judgments, or trips to a great
hall to consult "The Book of Life." Animals were often
seen, especially household pets who had previously died and lions.
Regardless of how simple or complex the near-death episode,
the vast majority of survivors commented most about the incredible,
overwhelming love they felt, the peace, the feeling of total
acceptance, and the Presence of God.
Individuals can have more than one experience. A woman I
contacted had six experiences spread out over twenty-nine
years of living.
One man with astronomical health problems claimed to have
them about every couple of years or so. "It gives me
the strength to keep going he said. It is not at all uncommon
to hear of someone
having had at least two.
There seems no rhyme or reason for multiple cases unless
it is because the average near-death experience emerges from
conditions
involving severe or extreme trauma, such as an accident or
life-threatening illness that
can leave the survivor weak and in ill health, vulnerable — sometimes
for long periods.
Relapses do occur or perhaps another life-threatening
illness comes. Death can be faced yet again, but repeated
crises are no guarantee another near-death episode will happen.
Case in point: one man had two near-death scenarios within
one month, recovered, but several years later almost died
again from another condition brought on by the first.
This time, however, he did not have a near-death experience of any kind, encountering instead only darkness. The following year, he again nearly lost his life but this time he had a third scenario. Four times he barely survived death, yet he had only three near-death events.
Still another man almost died eight times during his lifetime before he experienced near-death with crisis number nine. In cases where more than one is experienced, the scenarios can lead into each other, that is to say, one can set the stage for the next to come and it can begin where the previous one left off; or the next episode can be totally unrelated to the first.
Additional scenarios can be more or less
important than the original, as there is not necessarily
any progression.
So far, I have yet to find multiple cases from one
individual that were all identical in content; but I have met different
people who seemed to share the same experience, or
at
least what appeared to be the same experience. This peculiarity
happened in two ways: they were either all at the same
hospital within the same timespan, or they were miles and years apart.
In my own case, two of the events happened in January,,
the other in March. I have since met three other people
whose
experiences were so much akin to my first one, that
it is as if we both lived through the same thing. Later,
I met
twelve other people who also had three near-death experiences
in 1977, with before and after conditions similar,
although we "died" in different months and
had different scenarios.
There was a time when I felt uniquely alone because
of what I had survived. I was convinced no one else
could possibly have seen what I saw and to
speak of it, that somehow I must have been "chosen," but
dialoguing with other people like myself quickly dispelled
such notions.
Although each case differs, some more than others,
there are commonalities, connecting links, if you will,
that run through all experiences regardless of the
person's age, background, belief system, or nationality.
We are more alike than different.
The Survivors' View of Death
During my search to find other people
like myself I often went with notebook in hand, determined
to somehow
understand what seemed so confusing. At that
time, I had only heard the term "near-death" once
and knew little of the subject. Everything
I finally learned about the phenomenon I learned
by
reaching out to others first-hand, then comparing
what I discovered
with my own experience and previous knowledge
of other events that seemed related.
After many years of this, I put together a consensus
of survivor comments to describe the actual
moment of death and what it feels like. Although it
would be irresponsible to claim that near-death
experiencers
have the answer to life's greatest riddle,
I do believe
their viewpoints are worthy of consideration
and offer some degree of credibility. For this
reason, I submit
the following:
Any pain to be suffered comes first.
Instinctively you fight to live.
That is automatic.
It is inconceivable to the conscious mind that any
other reality could possibly exist beside
the earth-world of matter bounded by time and space. We are used
to it. We have been trained since birth
to live and thrive
in it. We know ourselves to be ourselves
by the external stimuli we receive. Life tells us who we are and we accept
its telling. That, too, is automatic.
Your body goes limp.
Your heart stops.
No more air flows in or out.
You lose sight, feeling, and movement — although
the ability to hear goes last.
Identity ceases. The "you" that
you once were becomes only memory.
There is no pain at the moment of death.
Only peaceful silence.
Calm.
Quiet.
But you still exist.
It is easy not to breathe.
In fact, it is easier, more comfortable,
and infinitely more natural not to breathe
than to breathe.
The biggest surprise for most people
in dying is to realize dying does not
end life. Whether darkness or light
comes next, or some kind of event, be
it positive, negative, or somewhere in
between, expected or unexpected, the
biggest surprise of all is to realize
you are still you. You can still think,
you can still remember, you can still
see, hear, move, reason, wonder, feel,
question, and tell jokes — if you
wish.
You are still alive, very much alive.
In fact, more alive than since you were
last born.
Only the way of all this is different,
different because you no longer wear
a dense body to filter and amplify the
various sensations you had once regarded
as the only valid indicators of what
constitutes
life. You had always been taught one
has to wear a body to live.
If you expect to die when you die you
will be disappointed.
The only thing dying does is help you
release, slough off, and discard the "jacket" you
once wore (more commonly referred to
as a "body").
When you die you lose your
body.
That is all there is to it.
Nothing else is lost.
You are not your body. It is just something
you wear for a
while, because living on the earth-plane
is infinitely
more meaningful and more involved if
you are
encased in its trappings and subject
to its rules.
A good portion of near-death cases
feature out-of-body experiencers.
As I spoke
with these people, they would become
quite animate in their gestures of
what it was like to try communicating
with
a nurse or loved one only to be ignored
because no one heard them, or to try
grabbing someone's arm only to pass
clear through as if that person were
so much
thin air.
These so-called "departed" ones
would feel perfectly normal and perfectly
alive yet no one else could see, hear,
or feel them. The "departed" had
suddenly become invisible.
This state of invisibility, they
claim is eerie and frustrating,
and takes some getting used to. While
loved ones
are busy grieving and in shock, the
dearly departed can be just as busy
adjusting
to a new existence, and undergoing
just as much shock. It works both
ways.
Death is like birth. Birth is like
death. When you leave one world you
are born
into another. It doesn't seem to
matter in which direction you are
going: death
means "you leave" and birth
means "you enter." Each event
reflects the other.
Survivors note how difficult it can
sometimes be to realize you are dead.
This, they feel, may explain ghosts,
for maybe
that is all a ghost is — someone
like themselves who has
yet to realize he or she died. It
is easy enough to imagine why deceased "persons" would
continue inhabiting familiar surroundings
or would keep trying to make contact
with anyone who might listen. If
you didn't know you
were dead, how would you know when
to quit "hanging
around?"
Using the same format as before,
I now submit the following consensus
of survivor opinions on the subject of
death itself:
There is a step-up of energy at the
moment of death, an increase
in speed as if you are suddenly vibrating
faster than before.
Using radio as
an analogy, this
speed-up is comparable
to having
lived all
your life at
a certain
radio frequency
when all of a
sudden someone
or some thing
comes along
and flips
the dial.
That flip shifts
you
to another, higher
wavelength. The
original frequency
where you
once
existed is still
there. It did
not change.
Everything is
still just the
same
as it always
was.
Only you changed, only
you speeded up
to allow entry into the next radio
frequency up
the dial.
As is true with
all radios and
radio stations,
there
can be
bleed-over's
or distortions
of transmission
signals
due to interference
patterns. These
can allow or
force
frequencies to
coexist or commingle
for
indefinite
periods of time.
Normally, most
shifts up the
dial are fast
and
efficient;
but, occasionally,
one can run
into interference,
perhaps
from
a strong
emotion, a
sense of duty,
or a need to
fulfill a vow,
or
keep a promise.
This interference
could allow
coexistence of frequencies
for
a few seconds,
days, or even
years (perhaps
explaining
hauntings);
but sooner
or later,
eventually,
every given vibrational
frequency
will seek out
or be nudged
to where
it belongs.
You fit your
particular
spot on the
dial by your
speed of vibration.
You cannot
coexist forever
where you do
not belong.
Who can say
how many spots
there are on
the dial or
how many frequencies
there are to
inhabit? No
one knows.
You shift frequencies
in dying. You
switch over
to life on
another wavelength.
You are still
a spot on the
dial but you
move up or
down a notch
or two. You don't die
when you die.
You shift your
consciousness
and speed of
vibration.
That is all
death is.
A shift.
Are near-death
scenarios symbolic
or literal?
No one can
be certain,
but I honestly
think both
apply. Right
after having
such an experience,
though, survivors
take what happened
to them literally,
quite literally.
There is no
questioning
at first. Questions
come later.
Regardless
how much or
how little
happened, it
is staggering
to accept that
anything happened
at all. We
are so programmed
to believe
death ends
everything,
or just about
everything,
that anything
even suggestive
of continued
life is a jolt.
Even for those
who profess
a belief in
life after
death before
their experience,
it is still
a jolt, for
the enormity
and diversity
of what comes
next stretches
the imagination
beyond what
seems possible.
You encounter
more when you
die.
No matter what
your previous
beliefs, you
encounter more. And there is
more beyond
that. As near
as I can tell
there is no
end to the "mores" and
the "beyonds." Death
is a shift
in consciousness,
a doorway we
pass through.
What we encounter,
no matter what
it is, constitutes
the mere tip
of a bottomless
iceberg, a
wink in infinity!
GOD IS, DEATH ISN'T.
Major After-Effects
What I believe to be the pattern of major
after-effects from the near-death experience is:
1. The inability to personalize emotions or feelings, especially
those of love and of belonging to anyone.
2. The inability to recognize and comprehend boundaries, rules, limits.
3. Difficulty understanding time sense, or references to what occurred
in the past or might occur in the future — a sense of timelessness.
4. Expanded! enhanced sensitivities, becoming more intuitive, psychic,
knowing, spatial, non-linear in perceptions.
5. A shifted or changed view of physical reality, becoming more detached,
objective, seeing "through" events and problems with a noticeable
reduction of fears and worries.
6. A different feeling of physical self, a certain detachment from the
body and any identification with it as "self," rather knowing
we live in and "wear" our bodies.
7. Difficulty with communication and relationships, finding it hard to
say what is meant or to understand language phrasing used by others.
Another Definition
The Aramaic word for death translates:
"not here present elsewhere."
END
