I was conscious through the entire process. I was terrified, in agony, and completely beyond endurance. I felt my heart stop beating. There was a sensation of “letting go”, it was as if I had been clinging to my body the whole time I’d been alive. It all seemed so easy, I wondered why it had never occurred to me to do it before. I felt myself moving away from the Earth, spiraling outward. There was a growing awareness. Of course, now it all makes sense! There’s even a reason we all have limited knowledge. Don’t ask me for secrets, because I don’t remember. When we exist as the flesh, we are bound by the laws of the flesh.
During this period was the “life review”. I use this term very loosely. There was no judgment. With increased awareness I simply remembered all of my life. I let go of all the things I loved, all the people I loved. There was no regret. It struck me as remarkable that the most painful moments of my life were the ones I most treasured when the pain was gone. There’s a reason for this too. And no, I still don’t remember.
I was met by a spirit. There was no communication, and I made no identification. Thoughts of material things slipped away and I was guided into the presence I will refer to as God. There was sight without eyes to see. There were voices without words that I had no ears to hear. There were no streets of gold or peaceful green meadows, but there was *something*, and it was heaven. It was simply existing within a love beyond mortal understanding.
There was communication from God. I was shown a measure of the Plan. I witnessed the whole Earth from what I might estimate as a few thousand miles, but physical time-space doesn’t have quite the same meaning to a spirit. Souls were rising and being drawn to God, others were drifting into darkness. I didn’t get a sense of any competing force, they were just getting lost. I was given a glimpse of what was to come when all had come home to God. I never had any details, just a vast sense of wonder, amazement and love at what was to be. And then the vision was closed to me. I had thought I was already in heaven, but man was that something.
Then the bad(?) news. God wants me to come back down here. He doesn’t share the Plan, I’m just told I still have work to do. Oh crap, that’s gonna be unpleasant. I am comforted. I have a choice. I do not have to go, and His love for me will not diminish. Well, that’s a relief. What if I get lost? What of the harm I might do? I was reassured that my place with God would remain. I prayed for the passing of the cup. I surrendered my will.
Oh man, “reality” again. I had forgotten how bad this hurts…
~ It was like being able to remember all my life at once, with greater understanding and in a universal context. I learned many things, but most was forgotten upon returning to my body. I only remember that there were reasons for all the great mysteries and a purpose to our ignorance. I don’t remember the answers, but the questions don’t seem to matter anymore either.
~ I remember that we can choose to die at any time by act of will, but our survival instinct interferes with that ability. We don’t know how because we’re supposed to be here, and from this perspective we don’t have the wisdom to make the decision to leave.
~ I think the most significant thing for me was that while I can’t remember the reasons for why everything happens as it does, I remain with a certain knowledge that there *is* a purpose. I’m still trying to understand the universe and my place in it, but I don’t *need* to know anymore.
~ I have used (both before and after) LSD, mescaline and peyote. I would analogize ordinary life to a game of beach volleyball. While I’m playing, I’m focused on the game and those around me. Taking psychedelics is like suddenly becoming aware of the sound of the waves, the smell of the salt and the feel of the offshore breeze. My NDE would be equivalent to diving into the surf and frolicking with the dolphins.
~ Words are too rigid and limited to express accurately, like grasping at smoke. I feel like I just told da Vinci that his painting of the Mona Lisa was “nice”…