10/21/2025
Near Death Experiences
I have always been fascinated by stories of those who have experienced near-death experiences — people who, after a heart attack or trauma, stop breathing and are brought back to life. Many describe feelings of peace, love, and joy; they speak of life reviews, entering the light, and reuniting with loved ones.
I always wanted to believe that this was what awaited us after death — not the heaven and hell I’d been taught to fear.
But lately, my thinking has changed. As I contemplate my eventual departure from this body and begin to really examine what’s real versus what’s simply belief, something new has emerged.
By simply sitting quietly and asking questions, I’ve begun to feel a presence — something vast, nameless, and real. Some call it God, Spirit, the Universe, Allah. I don’t know what to call it, only that it feels greater than all of us combined. And it is so good.
There are moments when this presence floods me with such love that I can’t keep my composure. I just weep. Feeling this, I now understand that what people describe in near-death experiences is only a small taste of what exists beyond this human life, this simulation we call reality.
Listening for the First Time
I sometimes wonder why it took me fifty-one years to feel this. And I think it’s because I never stopped long enough to listen. It really is that simple.
A part of me feels sad for all the years I missed out on this love. But that sadness quickly fades, replaced by compassion for the version of me who was always searching outside herself — for validation, for completion, for love — instead of looking within.
It’s kind of like when your husband says he can’t find the keys, and you walk over and point them out right in front of him. You just smile and say, “See? They were right there all along.”
The Urge to Share
I can now see why people become passionate about sharing their religion or spiritual path. When you’ve felt this kind of love, you want everyone to feel it too.
I felt that same urge — until I realized that each person has to find this on their own. Everyone is their own savior. As a friend recently told me, “No one is coming to save you.”
This relationship with the Presence is something you stumble upon only when you decide to truly stop and look.
How to Begin
If you’re ready to stop and see what’s really there — what’s real — try this:
Slow your mind. Put on some soft music, step outside into nature. Leave your phone behind. Listen to the birds. Ask, Is anyone out there for me? Am I walking this life alone? Then listen. Really listen.
Don’t expect a voice or a particular being — not God, Jesus, the Universe, Doctor Who, Einstein, or your dead grandmother. Just feel and listen.
What do I mean by feel? Feel the way you do when you’ve lost something precious. Or when you receive unexpected good news. That little flutter in your heart or belly — that’s the one.
Feel like that. And listen.
Don’t think about what’s next or what went wrong yesterday. Just sit with your 100 percent self — no judgment, no filter, just you.
If you do this, you will develop a relationship with that Presence. Like any relationship, the more time you give it, the deeper it becomes.
I used to wonder if it was possible to love this Presence any more than I already did — and yet every time I connect, I find that I do. As Joe Dispenza once said, “There is always more love.”
My Journey
I didn’t grow up in any particular religion, and my family never forced one on me. I was left to decide for myself.
Life has taken me on wild twists and turns — terrible things have happened, and incredible, miraculous things too. I’ve seen some of the most spectacular places on Earth, and I’ve also witnessed some of the darkest acts humans can commit.
Through it all, I see now that the same Presence has been there — waiting for me to slow down, to listen, to remember.
