Riding my bike past the golf course, I watch as the van runs the stop sign; however, I’m unable to swerve out of his way. I’m staring through the van’s windshield at the driver and hoping he doesn’t hit his brakes. He does, though, and now I’m flying. It’s an odd sensation to be sailing through the air like some sort of awkward flightless bird.
I don’t remember hitting the pavement because I am distracted by the intensely bright column of white light shining out of the top of my body’s head. I have only a moment to grasp that I’m outside of my body, and then, swoosh! I’m sucked up the column of light like an envelope in a pneumatic mail tube.
I’m standing in a place of love. It’s completely enveloping, and I’m thoroughly immersed in feelings of loving acceptance, calmness, and of being home (of belonging).
There’s a glow of golden light ahead of me in the distance, and I need and want to get there. But as I take a step forward, a golden being blocks my way and a ball of blue white light hovers near my shoulder. I sense a type of musical speech emanating from both of the beings. I find the music pretty, yet disturbing at the same time, so I try not to listen to what it is saying. Instead, I focus on moving forward toward the glowing horizon and the feelings of acceptance and love that I feel even more strongly coming from there.
Now the glowing orb is in front of me, and it lightly touches my forehead. Very distinctly the singing evolves into words and feelings. The words are, “it’s not your time,” while the feelings are of sorrow and apology. It’s telling me that something has changed, that my plans must be altered and I can’t leave yet. Disappointment fills my very soul. I don’t want to go; I want to soar, I want to fly, I want to sing.
“Later,” it says; “later, we promise.”
I’m devastated. I don’t want to go back. I want to stay in this place of love. “No, please — I want to stay…” I think back to it.
And suddenly there is a horrible shrieking sound that pierces my head.
I’m back in my body, which is lying on the street, and I’m screaming. There are EMTs and other people hovering around me, and the driver of the van is on his cell phone.
I was only gone for a few seconds, maybe a minute, yet it seemed longer, and the feelings of disappointment, of missing out on something stupendous, were strong and have stayed with me for a looooong time.
I need and want to get back (to stay), but until then the short trips I now take seem to help me. Each time I’ve stepped over the barrier between this life and that it’s been to help someone who is dying. Since the accident I’ve found myself acting as a “guide” to those crossing over. I understand their fears, and it has helped me overcome mine, too. My fear was that it wasn’t real, that it was a dream and that I’d never get that loving feeling back. But I can, and I do, and that has helped me overcome the horrible disappointment I felt in having to come back
I now know that I can cross over there and experience those feelings again and again, and once I’m done with my life here, I know what’s waiting for me, so I’m not afraid. And I’m not afraid to help others with their fears, either.
Was it an NDE or was it a simple hallucination created by me in response to the accident? I know what I believe, but what do you think? Care to comment?
[For other stories of NDEs please see the International Association for Near Death Studies.]