I began my journey to another world clutching the handlebars of a Harley and ended up shaking hands with an alien presence in the near death experence. My name is David and in the distance I faintly heard myself being presented before the extraterrestrial counsel as Astro Theologian the spiritual traveler (what!!!), this is my story.
It was warm and peaceful; the sky was changing from a deep black of night to the early morning blue, and the air was heavy with the sweet smell of cut grass. I rode my Harley along the seemingly endless expanse of blacktop, reveling in the feeling of raw power between my legs, the deep resonate growl of the bike, and the peace and tranquility of the open road. I was 30 years old. My days were exhausting and seemed endless, and I escaped for this ride on my cycle as often as I could. While I was riding, I could escape from my mundane and inexplicably routine existence. I could contemplate my life, my dreams, the universe, or just the strange sticky orange powder on my favorite snack. Nothing held power over me; there were no interruptions, no requirements or requests. I was free to feel angry without questions, or joy without guilt. Trees and gentle curves were all that demanded my attention as I sped along the pavement. There was just my bike, my thoughts, the road, and me. At least, that is how it was until something ran across the road in front of my beloved Harley.
It was a car, I remember thinking, thats my friends car, just before I tried to swerved to avoid him. The front tire of my Harley hit something large and solid. I remember watching as the angle of the bike changed so that I was looking down at the front tire, my legs above my head, no longer straddling the seat. Time slowed down into that microscopic perfection that a truly terrifying experience elicits. I clearly remember thinking that I had to let go of the bike, and watching as my hands held tighter to the handlebars.
Then there was a moment of pure weightlessness, just before my back slammed onto the ground and the bike slammed onto me. Time was broken with pain. Intense, excruciating, bursting pain. And still, my hands wouldn’t release. The bike and I rolled together in the parking lot of the Standard Oil Service station, tumbling in slow motion; then I felt another crushing blow to my chest as the bike landed on me for the last time and then fell away. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t get enough air. I was still, lying on my back, the Harley had disappeared. I knew I was dying. I was calm, and surprised by my serenity. With a shock of pain I took stock of my situation. The crowd was gathering, so I had help. I could only take small, rasping breaths; and each breath sent shock waves of pain through my chest, back, shoulders, and neck. I could see blood spreading across the black leather jacket and pants. I couldn't move my leg, trying to was too painful. It seemed that my left leg was lying at an unnatural angle, gone below my kneecap. I knew enough of my situation now, and it wasn’t good as blood trickled down the black top and underneath me. My temporary escape from my life would be permanent. I looked up, at the canopy of the service station, and it occurred to me that the world had already started moving on without me. The birds were calling to each other their happy song. I could hear it all, just above the rushing in my own head – the sounds of the crowd saying is he alive. The pain in my body began to intensify. Deprived of adrenaline, my brain began screaming out warnings in the form of white-hot spears of pain. My vision blurred, the mad ocean noise in my head overcame the crowd. Everything went peaceful. The pain stopped, shock had set in.
*******I noticed an even more intense searing pain than I felt before the pain relieving shock overcame me. It felt as if my body was being torn apart, my chest splitting, my legs and arms pulled from their sockets, my head crushed in a vice. I realized slowly, at least it felt slow to me, that there were voices attached to the pain. I was being moved. The voices were yelling, and I couldn’t understand the words; I began to panic, afraid that they really were tearing me apart. I tried to yell, but I couldn’t catch my breath. I tried to move, but hands were holding me still. Then, there was a soft voice in my ear; a voice I could hold onto, telling me to hang in there, that everything would be “just fine”. I held on to that voice as I was rolled and placed on a board. I began to understand that I was being rescued. The voice sounded like someone I knew and by some strange miracle, I had a chance to live. The pain was more than I wanted to endure, but that soft voice in my ear was a tantalizing lifeline that I grasped with all the concentration I could muster. I held onto that voice through the jarring trip up to the ambulance, strapped uncomfortably onto a hard board. I savored its calm beauty as they loaded me into the ambulance. I waited for it to return with bated breath when it was silent. I wrapped my soul around the gentle, encouraging words and used their comfort to deliver me the will to live. That voice was with me until the very end of my waking memory of that day, when I was told I was going into surgery; that I would be getting sleepy and everything would be OK.
A glimpse of life after death, I found myself moving! The hospital and my friends was now left far behind as I was rushing toward eternity. My vision was a blur of colors as space was streaming by and the fading musical sounds I have never heard before from another realm surrounded me as I blasted into forever. At this point one second could be millions years and the distance of being close or a trillion light years away it didn't matter, time and distance its all the same with a feeling of loving nothingness. I was now a spiritual traveler with no thoughts of my friends or family. I was heading toward a distant event, aware of waves of thought communication, about my existence with admitted extraterrestrial presence beyond death.
In a second:The whole transcendental event ended, I woke up in a strange place, the hyper noise was hurting my ears. I was in the hospital recovery room my brink of death experience was over I have survived. The Nurse was calling out to me...Are you OK, we lost you.
To Die Was Easy!
Coming Back Was The Hard Part! What happened to my body I did not learn until much later, but my mind – or spirit – was experiencing something that placed me in such a state of awe that returning to my life would prove more difficult than surviving the accident. There was no gentle voice in my ear urging me to stay alive; there was only pain. What I experienced had nothing and everything to do with this world. My body was struggling to survive, but I had taking a journey that would forever shape my life. ********
I was pulled from nothingness, which gave me the sensation of a spider web being sucked into a vacuum. My awareness returned slowly, almost secretly, revealing to me an unknown plane of existence. There was an uncomfortable struggle happening that was contradictory; it didn’t involve the use of my will, but was a struggle for my will; my will to live, my will to fight, my will to breath and for my heart to beat again. It dawned on me, like the sun rising on a cold and rainy day, that my body was failing. My beaten, broken, painful body was fighting to continue life; and I was there, like a spectator, holding my breath for the outcome. It felt wrong to me that my body was alive, while I was…wherever it was that I had been functioning from. I had no understanding of what was happening, only that I was – without a body, I still was. It felt like a waste of resources for that body to continue, almost a painful meaningless suffering of something unworthy and useless. Yet there was a draw to that body, similar to the temptation a parent feels to touch a child’s hair.
There was a feeling of comfortable familiarity that fostered a deep-seated affection for the vessel, even if it was currently useless. I was suspended in an uncomfortable limbo, aware that the outcome of this struggle greatly affected me, but powerless to assert my will. My ability to grasp simple thoughts was minimal at best. I was fascinated, drawn into the novelty of this experience. I did not try to live. I did not try to die. I did not think beyond knowing that I was dying – or maybe already dead – but still, somehow, alive. It was in this state of mental sedation that I received my first image. It was a memory, actually; one that I didn’t know I had. I was three, and my mother was cooking dinner at the stove while I sat on the counter. I wanted to help her cook, so I reached over the pot on the stove with a handful of sticky butter and dropped it in. The result was boiling hot tomato sauce that splashed my hand and arm, burning me. My mother let out a distressed squeal. I briefly felt the pain, and the image shifted. Now I was six, riding my bike and darted right out in front of a city bus. I screamed and my mother came running. Again, I briefly felt the pain, and the image shifted. Hundreds of images from my youth sped through and past me. Most of them of involved my mom, always gentle and kind. I swelled with emotion for the woman who raised me so well, who loved me unconditionally. Though I could tell that the images were flashing very quickly, I understood and felt each one, until I reached a crescendo of emotion that I was sure would serve as a throttle to force me from the limbo I was in. It was then, at the peak of emotion, that the images slowed, showing me, at 8, finding a dead sparrow beside our home and looking up. Above me was a large aircraft of some kind; like nothing I had ever seen before.
I was powerless to move as I watched the flying saucer directly above me, and I remembered the feeling of awe that I had felt so many years ago. Silently, the craft move toward the mountain, and less than a minute it had pasted the mountain, followed by a bomber. I watched with concern as the bomber bay was open and i could see the airman looking in the direction of the spacecraft as they faded beyond my field of vision, remembering the mixed feelings of awe. The image froze on me, at 8, standing by the dead bird, staring with a dumbstruck look on my face, a big UFO event had just happen at fort knox and I lived so near; and then the image began to fade, until there was nothing left to see. I was floating in a black void. No ceiling, no floor; no top, bottom, or sides. Just nothing. It was a very peaceful place to be. I was no longer concerned with the struggle of my body, I no longer felt in limbo. I was free of every uncomfortable human emotion. The void in which I was suspended offered no stimulation for my senses, and my mind offered no resistance. I existed with such purity that calm was the only thing I felt. I did not wonder where I was, I did not want to leave or stay, I drifted in a comfortably lonely blackness; I may have been moving, drifting slowly, or the image before me may have been moving toward me. I couldn’t tell which of us moved, and wasn’t concerned. I simply watched with gentle curiosity, as the blackness was broken. The first thing I saw was a distance greenish white light, spinning very slowly. It was mesmerizing to watch, and in my relaxed state, was very hypnotic. I stared, unblinking, as the lights got larger, moving in more intricate patterns. They were close enough now that I could see the colors more clearly – a misty white veined with greens and blues, ever changing and beautiful. As they neared and moved faster the blackness around me was replaced with a heavy, silver mist.
The lights were puzzling, as they begain to stretch; yet I did not panic as they became close enough to touch yet was so distance, I felt no fear as I was thrust into motion. I was part of the light, my body moved comfortably upon warm, silky space; there was no resistance upon or within my body. My muscles were slack, and there was no pressure directing my motion. I was not dizzy or scared. I was, in fact, overcome with such intense joy and pleasure that I felt like a child again. I felt the joy of an amusement park, the comfort of my mothers’ arms, the satisfaction of receiving my fathers’ approval, and the immense comfort of sliding into bed after a long day of hard physical activity. When the movement stopped, and I was left in a black void again – but the feelings of joy and contentment remained. In this second velvet black space, I began thinking again. I started to wonder what was happening, where I was, why I was here. I thought with detached regret about my body, which I was sure was dead. I looked around, but was unable to see anything, even when I lifted my hand in front of my face. I listened, but there was no sound. I reached out, but there was nothing to touch, not even a floor beneath my feet. I didn’t feel fear or discomfort. I knew, somehow, that there was nothing to be frightened of. There was such a sense of peace and wonder that I soon began to feel playful. The weightlessness of my body and the non-existence of my surroundings seemed like a playground just begging for some activity. With a deep breath, unsure what would happen, I lifted my knees, threw my head back, and arched my back. Nothing happened. My position changed, I was sure of it, but I was left feeling just as upright as before. Curious, I bent over and touched my toes; again, I had no feeling of being upside down. I flipped my legs up into the air, and again felt like I was standing up right.
As interesting as the dynamics of the space I was in were, I was beginning to feel slightly irritated. I wanted a solid surface, and I wanted to be able to alter my being. The feelings if irritation grew and I became more intent on learning about my situation. Sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste were useless – I couldn’t pick up any information from the five senses I was so used to functioning with. All I had were my thoughts; I knew there had to be a way to figure out where I was. If there wasn’t a way, well…maybe I was dead and this was hell; a black abyss with nothing to feed your senses. At the thought of this being my eternity, I began to feel fear. I thought about all of the choices I had made in my life that could have brought on such a fate. My thoughts of my past ran through my mind, quickly and clearly. I remembered many things, in vague colors and remembered emotions. Those memories were soon disrupted by a second set of images; these images were entirely different from my own thoughts. They were very clear, like I was watching a 3D movie, but my eyes were still useless in the dark. What was happening was completely inside my mind. I could see, hear, smell, taste, and touch in these images. I could feel the emotion. I watched: me 18 at high school in the long hallway talking with my girl friend in distress and how I did her wrong. My interest in the image themselves fades, and I began to try to contemplate exactly how I was seeing them. I focused on looking with my eyes and the images faded to the background – hazy and dull. With my eyes I could only see black, and I could not focus on the pictures. I tried to listen, to focus on the sounds from the movies in my mind, but they only seemed to get further away. The same things happened with touch, smell, and taste. I also realized at this point that I couldn’t feel myself. I’m not sure why I thought I should be able to, but I was very surprised when I reached my hand to my chin and found it wasn’t there.
I knew I was reaching, but I either wasn’t connecting, or there was nothing to reach with. I couldn’t feel any part of my body touching any other part of my body. The intense oddity of my entire situation began to emerge. I was here without my body, yet I could feel myself move. I had thoughts of my own, but I was also experiencing my memories being fed to me from another source. There was nothing solid about my environment. My five senses had nothing to sense, yet I was able to see, hear, smell, touch, and taste. I was very confused
I focused again on the images that continued to play in my mind, hoping to find some information I could use. The experiences were very real; I felt love, warmth, concern, pity, discomfort, and joy – each passing quickly and morphing to the next. When the picture changed again to my experience with the UFO, I felt a warmth wash over me. I watched that flying saucer right above me and felt, for the first time since my experience began, that I wasn’t alone. ******
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