AngelicView: These are some excerpts from the book, “Application of Impossible Things”, in which the author is describing her NDE. She was a
soldier and her vehicle was hit by a roadside bomb. (I have since learned that she was not a soldier, but an archaeologist who was in Iraq to manage construction contracts.)
The most fascinating part of this story, in my opinion, is towards the end when she is able to manipulate details of the injuries to the body in order to make the body livable and less damaged.
I had just closed my eyes, hand propping up my head, elbow on the door handle. It was the end of a long day of construction site visits and now only a few minutes out from base. I’d long ago quit paying attention to what was passing by outside the window and had lost track of how far we were from the rest of our security convoy. This personal security team seemed to travel with a half kilometer or more of road between wagons, and I hadn’t seen the Iraqi police escort for a while. Not knowing the two security men in the front seats well, I hadn’t chatted with them. Some men prefer to rivet their attention on the environment; they weren’t talking with each other, so I felt they might not welcome questions or comments from me. The team was running on closed mic, a stupifyingly dull way to travel in the back seat of an armored Land Cruiser, cut out of the chatter of hyper-aware security men informed by multiple sets of alert senses. As a passenger, I’d hit the familiar point of being artificially lulled into boredom.
I was in the truck, head on hand, half asleep, and then I was not [the roadside bomb went off]. I’ll call this instantaneous movement blinking from one place to another, for lack of a better word.
In this new environment, I stood on an oval dais looking rather intrepid in my bloody and torn fatigues, slouching a bit, dirty and darkly tan, addressing thousands of white-robed beings or personalities. They were arrayed up and all around me as if I stood in the center of a huge stadium, the dais on which I stood being perhaps twenty feet in diameter.
The personalities were non-physical in essence, taking on form if they intended to do that for a particular purpose. I perceived the way they looked according to what I preferred for my purposes. At the time, since I had been abruptly transferred from the physical plane, it was simpler to perceive them in a human form, wearing glowing white robes.
Most of these thousands were familiar to me, and all were my equal regardless of their admiration for my latest silly feat on earth. (How intrepid is it, really, to choose to get blown up?) I knew the Gathering to be a meeting of many groups representing a wide variety of interests and responsibilities pertaining not only directly to earth and physical universe energies but to dimensions and issues beyond.