Dying To Be Me Page 8

  And then I recognized the essence of my best friend, Soni, who’d died of cancer three years prior. I felt what I can only describe as excitement as their presence enveloped me like a warm embrace, and I was comforted. I seemed to know that they’d been around me for some time, long before I became aware of them, all through my illness.

  I was also aware of other beings around me. I didn’t recognize them, but I knew they loved me very much and were protecting me. I realized that they were there all the time, surrounding me with so much love, even when I wasn’t conscious of it.

  It was tremendously comforting for me to reconnect with Soni’s essence, for I’d missed her so much during the years since she’d gone. I felt nothing but unconditional love, both from her and for her. And then, just as I experienced that, it was as though my essence merged with Soni’s and I became her. I understood that she was here, there, and everywhere. She was able to be in all places at all times for all her loved ones.

  Although I was no longer using my five physical senses, I had unlimited perception, as if a new sense had become available, one that was more heightened than any of our usual faculties. I had 360-degree peripheral vision with total awareness of my surroundings. And as amazing as it all sounds, it still felt almost normal. Being in a body now felt confining.

  Time felt different in that realm, too, and I felt all moments at once. I was aware of everything that pertained to me—past, present, and future—simultaneously. I became conscious of what seemed to be simultaneous lives playing out. I seemed to have a younger brother in one incarnation, and I was protective of him. But I knew that this sibling’s essence was the same as Anoop’s, only in that existence, he was younger instead of older than I was. This life I was now perceiving with Anoop seemed to take place in an underdeveloped rural setting, in a time and location I couldn’t identify. We were living in a sparsely furnished mud hut, and I looked after Anoop while our parents went out to work in the fields.

  As I was experiencing the sensations associated with being a protective older sister, ensuring that there was enough for us to eat and we were safe from any undesirable external elements, it didn’t feel like a past life. Even though the scene appeared historical, in that realm, it still felt as though it were happening here and now.

  In other words, time didn’t run linearly the way we experience it here. It’s as though our earthly minds convert what happens around us into a sequence; but in actuality, when we’re not expressing through our bodies, everything occurs simultaneously, whether past, present, or future.

  Although being able to perceive all points of time simultaneously lent to the atmosphere of clarity in that realm, recalling it and writing about it creates confusion. The sequence isn’t obvious when there’s no linear time, making the retelling sound clumsy.

  It seems as though our five senses limit us to focus only on one point in time at any given moment, and we string these together to create an illusion of linear reality. Our physicality also limits our perception of the space around us, confining us to only what our eyes and ears can see and hear or to what we can touch, smell, or taste. However, without the limitations of my body, I took in all points of time and space as they pertained to me, all at once.

  MY HEIGHTENED AWARENESS IN THAT EXPANDED realm was indescribable, despite my best efforts to explain it. The clarity was amazing.

  The universe makes sense! I realized. I finally understand—I know why I have cancer! I was too caught up in the wonder of that moment to dwell on the cause, although I’d soon examine it more closely. I also seemed to comprehend why I’d come into this life in the first place—I knew my true purpose.

  Why do I suddenly understand all this? I wanted to know. Who’s giving me this information? Is it God? Krishna? Buddha? Jesus? And then I was overwhelmed by the realization that God isn’t a being, but a state of being…and I was now that state of being!

  I saw my life intricately woven into everything I’d known so far. My experience was like a single thread woven through the huge and complexly colorful images of an infinite tapestry. All the other threads and colors represented my relationships, including every life I’d touched. There were threads representing my mother, my father, my brother, my husband, and every other person who’d ever come into my life, whether they related to me in a positive or negative way.

  Oh my, there’s even a thread for Billy, who bullied me as a child!

  Every single encounter was woven together to create the fabric that was the sum of my life up to this point. I may have been only one thread, yet I was integral to the overall finished picture.

  Seeing this, I understood that I owed it to myself, to everyone I met, and to life itself to always be an expression of my own unique essence. Trying to be anything or anyone else didn’t make me better—it just deprived me of my true self! It kept others from experiencing me for who I am, and it deprived me of interacting authentically with them. Being inauthentic also deprives the universe of who I came here to be and what I came here to express.

  In that state of clarity, I also realized that I’m not who I’d always thought I was: Here I am without my body, race, culture, religion, or beliefs…yet I continue to exist! Then what am I? Who am I? I certainly don’t feel reduced or smaller in any way. On the contrary, I haven’t ever been this huge, this powerful, or this all-encompassing. Wow, I’ve never, ever felt this way!

  There I was, without my body or any of my physical traits, yet my pure essence continued to exist, and it was not a reduced element of my whole self. In fact, it felt far greater and more intense and expansive than my physical being—magnificent, in fact. I felt eternal, as if I’d always existed and always would without beginning or end. I was filled with the knowledge that I was simply magnificent!

  How have I never noticed this about myself before? I wondered.

  As I looked at the great tapestry that was the accumulation of my life up to that point, I was able to identify exactly what had brought me to where I was today.

  Just look at my life path! Why, oh why, have I always been so harsh with myself? Why was I always beating myself up? Why was I always forsaking myself? Why did I never stand up for myself and show the world the beauty of my own soul?

  Why was I always suppressing my own intelligence and creativity to please others? I betrayed myself every time I said yes when I meant no! Why have I violated myself by always needing to seek approval from others just to be myself? Why haven’t I followed my own beautiful heart and spoken my own truth?

  Why don’t we realize this when we’re in our physical bodies? How come I never knew that we’re not supposed to be so tough on ourselves?

  I still felt myself completely enveloped in a sea of unconditional love and acceptance. I was able to look at myself with fresh eyes, and I saw that I was a beautiful being of the Universe. I understood that just the fact that I existed made me worthy of this tender regard rather than judgment. I didn’t need to do anything specific; I deserved to be loved simply because I existed, nothing more and nothing less.

  This was a rather surprising realization for me, because I’d always thought I needed to work at being lovable. I believed that I somehow had to be deserving and worthy of being cared for, so it was incredible to realize this wasn’t the case. I’m loved unconditionally, for no other reason than simply because I exist.

  I was transformed in unimaginable clarity as I realized that this expanded, magnificent essence was really me. It was the truth of my being. The understanding was so clear: I was looking into a new paradigm of self, becoming the crystalline light of my own awareness. Nothing interfered with the flow, glory, and amazing beauty of what was taking place.

  I BECAME AWARE THAT WE’RE ALL connected. This was not only every person and living creature, but the interwoven unification felt as though it were expanding outward to include everything in the universe—every human, animal, plant, insect, mountain, sea, inanimate object, and the cosmos. I realized that the entire universe is alive
and infused with consciousness, encompassing all of life and nature. Everything belongs to an infinite Whole. I was intricately, inseparably enmeshed with all of life. We’re all facets of that unity—we’re all One, and each of us has an effect on the collective Whole.

  I knew that Danny’s life and purpose were inextricably linked to mine, and that if I died, he’d follow me soon after. But I understood that even if this were to happen, everything would still be perfect in the bigger picture.

  I also understood that the cancer was not some punishment for anything I’d done wrong, nor was I experiencing negative karma as a result of any of my actions, as I’d previously believed. It was as though every moment held infinite possibilities, and where I was at that point in time was a culmination of every decision, every choice, and every thought of my entire life. My many fears and my great power had manifested as this disease.

  CHAPTER 8

  Something Infinite and Altogether Fantastic

  Although I try to share my near-death experience here, there are no words that can come close to describing its depth and the amount of knowledge that came flooding through. So the best way to express it is through the use of metaphors and analogies. Hopefully, they capture a part of the essence of what I’m trying to convey at least in some small way.

  Imagine, if you will, a huge, dark warehouse. You live there with only one flashlight to see by. Everything you know about what’s contained within this enormous space is what you’ve seen by the beam of one small flashlight. Whenever you want to look for something, you may or may not find it, but that doesn’t mean the thing doesn’t exist. It’s there, but you just haven’t shone your light on it. And even when you do, the object you see may be difficult to make out. You may get a fairly clear idea of it, but often you’re left wondering. You can only see what your light is focused on, and only identify that which you already know.

  That is what physical life is like. We’re only aware of what we focus our senses on at any given time, and we can only understand what is already familiar.

  Next, imagine that one day, someone flicks on a switch. There for the first time, in a sudden burst of brilliance and sound and color, you can see the entire warehouse, and it’s nothing like anything you’d ever imagined. Lights are blinking, flashing, glowing, and shooting sparks of red, yellow, blue, and green. You see colors you don’t recognize, ones you’ve never seen before. Music floods the room with fantastic, kaleidoscopic, surround-sound melodies you’ve never heard before.

  Neon signs pulse and boogie in rainbow strobes of cherry, lemon, vermillion, grape, lavender, and gold. Electric toys run on tracks up, down, and around shelves stacked with indescribable colored boxes, packages, papers, pencils, paints, inks, cans of food, packages of multihued candies, bottles of effervescent sodas, chocolates of every possible variety, champagne, and wines from every corner of the world. Skyrockets suddenly explode in starbursts, setting off sparkling flowers, cascades of cold fire, whistling embers, and animations of light.

  The vastness, complexity, depth, and breadth of everything going on around you is almost overwhelming. You can’t see all the way to the end of the space, and you know there’s more to it than what you can take in from this torrent that’s tantalizing your senses and emotions. But you do get a strong feeling that you’re actually part of something alive, infinite, and altogether fantastic, that you are part of a large and unfolding tapestry that goes beyond sight and sound.

  You understand that what you used to think was your reality was, in fact, hardly a speck within the vast wonder that surrounds you. You can see how all the various parts are interrelated, how they all play off each other, how everything fits. You notice just how many different things there are in the warehouse that you’d never seen, never even dreamed of existing in such splendor and glory of color, sound, and texture—but here they are, along with everything you already knew. And even the objects you were aware of have an entirely new context so that they, too, seem completely new and strangely superreal.

  Even when the switch goes back off, nothing can take away your understanding and clarity, the wonder and beauty, or the fabulous aliveness of the experience. Nothing can ever cancel your knowledge of all that exists in the warehouse. You’re now far more aware of what’s there, how to access it, and what’s possible than you ever were with your little flashlight. And you’re left with a sense of awe over everything you experienced in those blindingly lucid moments. Life has taken on a different meaning, and your new experiences moving forward are created from this awareness.

  I WONDERED AT MY NEWFOUND UNDERSTANDING in the other realm, enjoying and exploring that all-encompassing consciousness. As I did so, I became aware that I had a choice to make.

  I reached a point where I once again strongly sensed the comforting presence of my father surrounding me, almost as if he were embracing me.

  Dad, it feels like I’ve come home! I’m so glad to be here. Life is so painful! I told him.

  But you’re always home, darling, he impressed upon me. You always were, and you always will be. I want you to remember that.

  Even though I hadn’t always been close to my father while I was growing up, all I could feel emanating from him now was glorious, unconditional love. During my physical life with him, I’d often been frustrated by his attempts to make me conform to Indian cultural norms, such as trying to get me married young and making me feel like a misfit because I didn’t always comply. But in this realm, I became aware that without any physical restrictions or the ties of all his cultural conditioning and expectations, all he had for me was pure love.

  The cultural pressures he’d put on me during life had all dropped away, because they were all only part of physical existence. None of that mattered after death; those values didn’t carry through into the afterlife. The only thing that remained was our connection and the unconditional love we had for each other. So for the first time, I actually felt cherished and safe in my father’s presence. It truly felt amazing, as though I’d finally come home!

  Our communication wasn’t verbal, but a complete melding of mutual comprehension. It wasn’t just that I understood my father—it was as though I became him. I was aware that he’d been with my entire family all through the years after he’d passed. He’d been with my mother, supporting her and watching over her; and he’d also been with me through my wedding and my illness.

  I became aware that the essence of my father was communicating with me more directly: Sweetheart, I want you to know that it’s not your time to come home yet. But it’s still your choice whether you want to come with me or go back into your body.

  But my body is so sick, drained, and ridden with cancer! was the immediate thought that came flooding through me. Why would I want to go back to that body? It has caused nothing but suffering—not only for me, but for Mum and Danny, too! I can’t see any purpose in going back.

  Not to mention that the state of unconditional love was just so blissful, I couldn’t bear the thought of returning. I wanted to stay where I was forever and ever.

  What subsequently happened is incredibly hard to describe. First, it felt as though whatever I directed my awareness toward appeared before me. Second, time was completely irrelevant. It wasn’t even a factor to consider, as though it didn’t exist.

  Prior to this point, doctors had conducted tests on the functioning of my organs, and their report had already been written. But in that realm, it seemed as though the outcome of those tests and the report depended on the decision I had yet to make—whether to live or continue onward into death. If I chose death, the test results would indicate organ failure. If I chose to come back into physical life, they’d show my organs beginning to function again.

  At that moment, I decided that I didn’t want to return. I then became conscious of my physical body dying, and I saw the doctors speaking with my family, explaining that it was death due to organ failure.

  At the same time, my father communicated with me, This is as f
ar as you can go, sweetheart. If you go any further, you cannot turn back.

  I became aware of a boundary before me, although the demarcation wasn’t physical. It was more like an invisible threshold marked by a variation in energy levels. I knew that if I crossed it, there was no turning back. All my ties with the physical would be permanently severed; and as I’d seen, my family would be told that my death was the result of organ failure caused by end-stage lymphoma.

  The unconditional love and acceptance was incredible, and I wanted to cross the threshold in order to continue to experience it for eternity. It was as though I was enveloped in the oneness, the pure essence of every living being and creature, without their aches, pains, dramas, and egos.

  I turned my awareness toward my distraught family’s reaction to the news of my death. I saw Danny’s head buried in my lifeless chest, holding my frail hand. His body was shaking with deep and inconsolable sobs. My mother stood over me, looking white as a sheet in disbelief. And my brother, Anoop, arrived to the shock that he didn’t make it in time.

  Before I became sucked into what was going on with my physical existence and my family, however, I found myself being drawn away from my emotions. Once again, I was surrounded by the reassuring feeling of a greater story unfolding. I knew that even if I chose not to go back, everything was exactly as it should be in the grand tapestry of life.

  IN THE MOMENT THAT I MADE THE DECISION TO GO on toward death, I became aware of a new level of truth.

  I discovered that since I’d realized who I really was and understood the magnificence of my true self, if I chose to go back to life, my body would heal rapidly—not in months or weeks, but in days! I knew that the doctors wouldn’t be able to find a trace of cancer if I chose to go back into my body!

  How can that be? I was astounded by this revelation, and wanted to understand why.