I was floating
above my body. I saw green shower caps.
The people in the room all wore those
stupid caps. There were five or six
caps and they were panicky. Their fear
was so thick I could feel it. I kept
thinking, 'Hey, I'm okay, don't worry,'
but they didn't get my message. This
was a little frustrating.
I found myself
in the right-hand corner of the room.
I lifted my arm and stretched. I had
been immobile for so long. It felt like
I had taken off a body girdle, and it
was so delicious to get out of that
cramped body. I felt a wonderful feeling
wash over me - a sense of peace and
power. I felt love and a sense of wonder
as I realized that any question I could
come up with would be answered.
Jesus. I was stunned and said, "I don't
believe in you."
He smiled and
said the etheric equivalent of, "Tough
#####, here I am."
Looking in his
eyes, I asked, "You mean, you've been
with me this whole time and I didn't
And his reply
was, "Lo, I am with thee, always, even
beyond the end of the world."
Now, I wasn't
into 'lo' so I said, "Hey, man, this
is the seventies and we don't say lo.
He kind of grinned,
I guess I was amusing him, and answered,
"You want to be reincarnated?"
"Hey, give me
a break," I yelled (only I made no sound).
"I just died. Don't I get a chance to
"Take it easy.
It's all right. You can change your
mind at any time."
I gasped, "I
don't even believe in you and now you
want me to reincarnate? Help!"
continued. He even asked me to kiss
his feet. No way. I gave him a bear
hug and kissed his cheek. I got the
equivalent of a belly laugh. I was so
happy with him that words were no longer
necessary. We then communicated mind-to-mind.
was aware God was coming. I came to
know that I had needed a human-looking
Christ to relate to so I wouldn't be
scared. The Light came and I was given
a choice - I could remain trapped on
earth, seeing and hearing everything,
but unable to help anyone, not even
my daughter (I was told this was limbo),
or I could stay with God. I chose God.
Light in front of me was sorta like
a white light bulb only it was so strong.
I remember thinking my eyes should be
burning, but then I remembered that
I didn't have any eyes to burn. God
was love and love was light, and it
was warm and it permeated every molecule
of me. This was so delicious, I was
crying with torrents of tears that didn't
exist. It was so enormous. I was loved.
I didn't feel irrelevant. I felt humbled,
awed, and amazed. For a long time after
my near-death experience, I ended my
prayers with, "You are soooooo big!"
It was my
way of expressing appreciation.
Then I was
instantly zapped to a domed room with
square screens up and down the walls,
on the ceiling-hundreds of television
screens. On each screen was a home movie
of one event in my life. The good, the
bad, the secret, the ugly, the special.
Everything was going on at once; nothing
was chronological. All was silent. When
you look at one screen, you focused
in, and you could hear what was there.
Not only words, but your thoughts, your
feelings, everything; and when you looked
at the other people or animals, you
could hear their thoughts, their feelings,
too. And you made the connection between
these and the event which ensued. You
were filled with, not guilt, but the
strong sense of responsibility.
God said to
me, "I gave you the precious gift of
life. What did you do with this gift?"
I answered in
a puny, wimpish voice, "I'm only twenty-three.
I didn't know I supposed to do anything.
I have a two-year-old daughter. I spend
my time and energy on her."
a good answer, but it was the truth.
I was the judge and I was satisfied.
I guess that was what God wanted. But
the next time this happens, I'm having
a list ready. I now have a card on my
fridge that says, 'Practice random kindness
and senseless acts of beauty.'
I asked a
lot of questions, about sin, murder,
and such, and I got a lot of answers.
I was told that before we're born, we
have to take an oath that we will pretend
time and space are real so we can come
here and advance our spirit. If you
don't promise, you can't be born.
that the reason I was ripped away from
paradise was for my father. He could
not have taken my death. He had a Jewish
surname and a Jewish nose, lived in
France, and was a doctor and captain
in the French army during World War
II. At that time, the French believed
that Nazis were their allies. He was
on a hill when he looked down and saw
the German army invading France. He
fled and just barely made it out alive.
He wound up in New York, turned against
any form of God or religion, and became
a stanch Freudian psychoanalyst . He
married a psychiatric nurse and had
three daughters, of which I am the oldest.
As I grew, I became an atheist just
like my father and married another one,
a freshman at Princeton who did not
believe in God or anything-yet he earned
his Ph.D. in philosophy so as a professor
he could get paid for arguing about
religion and still get six months' paid
vacation a year. When I revived, I had
tubes all over me. Dad was sitting next
to my bed humming French songs, and
had been for weeks, which is a monumental
feat considering that he is almost tone
deaf. I hummed back. He shot up about
three feet in the air, landed flat on
top of me, gave a war whoop, and hugged
me and cried. You have to remember he
is a dignified psychoanalyst going on
sixty, trained never to blink an eye-so
much for promising him I wouldn't tell.
I am psychic,
whether I believe it or not. I'm a stay-at-home
mother. I don't have dynamic thoughts
about the world of business or politics.
Yet I feel an internal pressure, A NEED
TO MOVE, to find a direction to be of
more service. I'm still adjusting to
the earthplane. It's been twenty years
and my experience is clearer to me than
yesterday. Change that "twenty" to (almost)
thirty, and that's what happened. There
are a few changes I'd make ... by the
time I went into the coma I was put
on Dilantin, Phenobarbital, Valium,
Stelazine and Thorazine. When I came
out of the coma I was on 100 milligrams
of Haldol. That stuff was the pits.
And it was awful getting off.
I've changed my direction from palm
reading for God to quilting for him.