Thousands of parties have had near-death experiences, but scientists was suggested that they are impossible. Dr. Eben Alexander was one of those scientists. A highly trained neurosurgeon, Alexander knew that NDEs feel real, but are simply fantasies produced under brains under extreme stress.
Then, Dr. Alexander’s own psyche was attacked by a rare illness. The one of the purposes of the brain that governs thought and emotion-and in essence concludes us human-shut down absolutely. For seven days he lay in a coma. Then, as medical doctors considered stopping care, Alexander’s looks popped open. He had come back.
Alexander’s recovery is a medical supernatural. But the real miracle of his narrative lies abroad. While his torso lay in coma, Alexander travelled beyond this world and encountered an angelic being who steered him into the deepest realms of super-physical existence. There he congregated, and spoke with, the Divine source of the universe itself.
Alexander’s story is not a fantasy. Before he experienced his tour, he could not reconcile his knowledge of neuroscience with any creed in heaven, God, or the soul. Today Alexander is a doctor who believe that that true state can be achieved only when we realize that God and the person are real and that extinction is not the end of personal universe but exclusively a transition.
This story would be remarkable no matter who it happened to. That it happened to Dr. Alexander spawns it revolutionary. No scientist or party of faith will be able to ignore it.
Neurosurgeon Dr Eben Alexander was initially reassured out-of-body ordeals were hallucinations — until he went into a coma himself and had what he now belief was a glimpse of something much more.
One of those core truths is that their is an afterlife, Just as there is a premortal life, for all of us. A worker may be shown these things, but he ever has limitations on who and where he can share this knowledge, if at all.
In this second extract from his journal The Map Of Heaven, Dr Alexander, who has taught at Harvard Medical School, divulges many others have also verified what he described.
A near-death experience will change your life in more styles than one. It means you have lived a serious illness or a major collision, for one thing, and that alone is one of the most significant events imaginable.
But the consequence, as you adjust to your progressive brand-new perspective, can be even more significant. For me, it was as if my old world was dead and I had been reborn into a new one.
Coping with that is hard: how do you oust your age-old vision of the universe with a brand-new one, without unravel into chaos?
How do you make that stair from one macrocosm to another one, without slipping and falling between the two?
So countless parties are going through same versions of what I went through, and the legends I “ve ever heard” from other near-death experience onlookers give me courage every day. They are a constant evidence of everything that was revealed to me — how we are adored and cherished much more than we can imagine, how we have nothing to fear and nothing to censure ourselves for.
If you have never seen yourself as a spiritual being, and perhaps did not even believe in God, this new dimension to your understanding has only one even greater impact.
A man called Pascale wrote to tell me about his father, who had a PhD in astrophysics and was’ 100 per cent scientifically minded’ — in other words, a complete atheist.
Pascale’s dad( we’ll call him Pierre) was a heavy drinker. He’d suffered a succession of feelings blows, and he abused hard drink to numb the ache — so much better that his parts started one by one to pack up. Kidneys, liver and then lungs established room, and Pierre submitted to double pneumonia.
He was not expected to live, but to give his person the best chance of restoring itself, medical doctors situated him in an encouraged coma.
After three months in intensive charge, he started to come round — and all this hard-headed scientific man wanted to talk about with his son were his experiences of heaven.
He had participated the after-life, just as I did. And he brought back the same message: there were angel-like beings who loved us more than we could imagine, and they would help us, if only we would make them.
Pierre faced a important challenges. He could never booze again. One glass would be enough to tip him back into alcohol abuse, and the end would be inevitable.
Somehow, he found the strength to beat his beasts. For the next four years, Pierre didn’t touch a cease. But after his initial burst of spiritual enthusiasm in the hospital, he stopped talking about heaven.
Pascale felt that his papa, an intensely shy man, was perplexed by the massive inconsistency between the atheism he had always urged, and the paradise he had experienced during his coma. He located it easier to say nothing.
But he developed a quirky wont, which seemed to help him in his abstinence — in all the places where he might be tempted to relapse and have a drink, Pierre left Post-It mentions. Every one was the same, with four ambiguous letters written on it: GaHf.
Pierre would not say what the documents implied. All he would admit was that they facilitated him.
After four years, his heart committed out, and Pierre died. His son was deeply comforted by statements his father had said in the hospital:’ I’m not afraid of dying any more. I know it’ll be fine.’
After the funeral, as he collected up the Post-It memo, Pascale had a sudden insight. He knew what the characters GaHf signified, what his father was reminding himself . . .’ Guardian angels. Have faith.’
Not every event of sky, and the remained unchanged fetches, is so startling. After I first shared my storey with others in public, I receives an glamour character from a female listed Jane-Ann, who told me that she underwent surgery for a psyche abcess in 1952, when she was eight years old, and that for two weeks after the operation she was in a coma.
Her mother was beside her berthed when she awoke, and what Jane-Ann recollects clearly is the expression of deep concern on that beloved face. Simply and matter-of-factly, as exclusively a child can, Jane-Ann explained that there had never been any reason to worry — “shes had” been with her great-aunt Julie, sitting on her lap and being comforted.
Sixty years later, that image of her great-aunt was one of her clearest memories.
Sometimes, it is the death of a loved one that encourages or spurs a near-death experience in us. A lady announced Jean wrote to tell me what “shes had” knew when her mother died, in 1980.
On a Saturday afternoon, Jean was in her garden-variety. She was due to fly to New York on the Monday, to visit her father who was being treated for cancer in hospital, and who was not expected to live more than six months.
As she inclined her blooms, Jean was abruptly devastated by’ a feeling of an unbelievable amount of love’. It overstepped through her, like a puff of air, and left her feeling extol. As she stood wondering what she had just felt, the wizard crossed through her again, pervading every cell in her body.
No sooner had the feeling faded than it happened a third age. And abruptly, Jean understood what it implied. Her mother had died, and was telling her how much she cherished her, as she varied this realm and started on her navigate through the next.
The feeling that Jean had initially thought was simply going through her had in fact enclose and encompassed her, as simply adore can.
The feeling was like she was hugging me but extending right through me. And every time she did this, I felt this supernatural, terrific, immeasurable extent of love.’
Jean went to sit by her phone in the house. She knew what would happen next, and within ten minutes it did: her sister phoned from New York, to tell her their mother had passed away.
As she wrote that letter, Jean told me she was crying — rends of pleasure , not of sadness. Ever since that instant in the garden, she has felt entirely safe and desired, self-confident that she will be reunited with her loved ones in heaven, and safe in the knowledge that demise is nothing to be feared.
In fact, she professes, she sometimes feels nearly envious when people pass away.
One of the most extraordinary things about my own view of heaven was that, back in this world , no one was aware of the transformation that I was undergoing. All the monitors and sensors and computers could detect no pleasure: my brain was flat-lining.
But sometimes, the eyes of those we adoration can see the mutate, as a sort of spiritual radiation.
A man called David knew accurately that, when “his fathers” died. With his three siblings, he was sitting in a private chamber at a hospice where his dad had been for 13 epoches. They had obstructed a constant bedside vigil, and it was plain that the end was near.
At 4am, with the office in darkness except for a single night-light in the wall, their parent took his last breath — and as he did, a tinge of glowing dust seemed to settle on his temple. It was like a pinprick of gold.
No light was reflecting on the old man’s face, hitherto this particle of dust was evocative and shining. As David watched, it began to swell into a pea-sized orb. Now it was a translucent blue, like the glowing underneath a candle flare. White rays glowed from it.
The orb filched, hovered, and then drifted across the room, still effervescing with sparks, until it disappeared through the ceiling. David followed it with his eyes , not daring to speak, until it was gone — and then he turned to one of his sisters.’ Did you see that? ’ he asked.
His sister said:’ You means that ignited that just came out of the side of Dad’s head? ’
People ask themselves these questions all the time, when a loved one guides and something inexplicable, something beyond the exclusively physical, arises. We know what we’ve seen, but we can’t relatively delivering ourselves to believe it, without documentation from someone else:’ Did you see that? ’
Perhaps the most extraordinary story of a near-death experience was told to me by John, the lad of a war ex-serviceman, who concludes he accompanied “his fathers” on the first stage of his wander into heaven.
His dad was a fighter, an ex-prisoner of war who was clinging to life in his sanatorium berthed despite having suffered material massive pulmonary embolism.
His breathing was very laboured, and John was stooping at the bedside, impounding his hand, with his ear close to his father’s chest — when abruptly, he was thrown into another dimension.
The scene was more vivid than any dream, he said: it was like being immersed in a 3D movie. His perspective was airborne, like a helicopter shot, and he was looking down at a rapid flow, spurting over rocks.
In the irrigate, clinging on for dear life, was his dad. A gilded brightnes began to spread across the water, like a eternal spotlight. In the midriff of the light-footed, a white-hot canoe loomed, with a red paddle, hovering quite still on the speed water.
With a shout of excitement, his father let go of the stones and began to swim for the canoe. Suddenly, he wasn’t a sick old person any more — he was an athlete, with the strength of a mortal in his 20 s.
He leapt into the canoe, and John felt himself scoot down, like a camera zooming in, to travel behind his dad’s shoulder.
His father turned and devoted him a search of such love and charm as he had never seen on his face before. And then financial perspectives deepened again, and John was high in the sky, watching as the grey canoe hastened towards a quay where dozens of people were waiting and cheering.
He recognised them all — family members, friends and campaign sidekicks of his father’s.
As the canoe docked, he saw his father stand up and conjure the paddle in a honour, grinning and roughly beside himself with delight. Then he rushed ashore and disappeared into a huddle of includes and back-slaps.
At that moment, John observed himself back at the bedside. His father’s centre had stopped.
‘This experience was transformative, a gift from my papa I could not repay, ’ he writes to me.’ I are to be able feel myself glowing when I tell this story! ’
New knowledge like this varies us for ever. It must do — that is its purpose. We evolve into someone fresh.
That’s what happened to me after my near-death experience, and to every one of the people in these stories.
Adapted from The Map Of Heaven: a neurosurgeon explores the riddles of the afterlife and the truth about what lies beyond, by Dr Eben Alexander with Ptolemy Tompkins( Piatkus ); Article written by Josh Richardson of www.preventdisease.com
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