Dr Eben Alexander's claim:
When I was a
small boy, I was adopted. I grew up remembering nothing of my birth
family and unaware that I had a biological sister, named Betsy. Many
years later, I went in search of my biological family, but for Betsy it
was too late: she had died.
This is the story of how I was reunited with her — in Heaven.
Before I start, I should
explain that I am a scientist, who has spent a lifetime studying the
workings of the brain.My adoptive father was a neurosurgeon and I
followed his path, becoming an neurosurgeon myself and an academic who
taught brain science at Harvard Medical School.
Although nominally a Christian, I was sceptical
when patients described spiritual experiences to me. My knowledge of the
brain made me quite sure that out-of-body experiences, angelic
encounters and the like were hallucinations, brought on when the brain suffered a trauma.
And then, in the most
dramatic circumstances possible, I discovered proof that I was wrong.
Six years ago, I woke up one morning with a searing headache. Within a
few hours, I went into a coma: my neocortex, the part of the brain that
handles all the thought processes making us human, had shut down
completely.
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At the time, I was working at Lynchburg General Hospital in
Virginia, and I was rushed to the emergency room there. The doctors
ascertained that I had contracted meningitis — a rare bacterial strain
of E coli was in my spinal fluid and eating into my brain like acid. My
survival chances were near zero.
I was in deep coma, a vegetative state, and all
the higher functions of my brain were offline. Scans showed no conscious
activity whatever — my brain was not malfunctioning, it was completely
unplugged.But my inner self still existed, in defiance of all the known
laws of science.
For seven days, as I lay in that unresponsive coma, my consciousness went on a voyage through a series of realms, each one more extraordinary than the last — a journey beyond the physical world and one that, until then, I would certainly have dismissed as impossible.For thousands of years, ordinary people as well as shamans and mystics have described brief, wonderful glimpses of ethereal realms. I’m not the first person to have discovered that consciousness exists beyond the body.What is unique in my case is that I am, as far as scientific records show, the only person to have travelled to this heavenly dimension with the cortex in complete shut-down, while under minute observation throughout
There are medical records for every minute of my coma, and none of them show any indication of brain activity. In other words, as far as neuroscience can say, my journey was not something happening inside my head.Plenty of scientists have a lot of difficulty with this statement. My experience undermines their whole belief system. But the one place I have found ready acceptance is in church, where my story often tallies with people’s expectations.Here, then, is what I experienced: my map of Heaven.
After the blinding headache, when I had slipped into the coma, I gradually became aware of being in a primitive, primordial state that felt like being buried in earth.It was, however, not ordinary earth, for all around me I sensed, and sometimes heard and saw, other entities. It was partly horrific, partly comforting and familiar: I felt like I had always been part of this primal murk.I am often asked, ‘Was this hell?’ but I don’t think it was .. I would expect hell to be at least a little bit interactive, and this was a completely passive experience.I had forgotten what it was even to be human, but one important part of my personality was still hard at work: I had a sense of curiosity. I would ask, ‘Who? What? Where?’ and there was never a flicker of response.
After an expanse of time had
passed, though I can’t begin to guess how long, a light came slowly down
from above, throwing off marvellous filaments of living silver and
golden effulgence.
It was a circular
entity, emitting a beautiful, heavenly music that I called the Spinning
Melody. The light opened up like a rip in the fabric of that coarse
realm, and I felt myself going through the rip, up into a valley full of
lush and fertile greenery, where waterfalls flowed into crystal pools.
There were clouds, like
marshmallow puffs of pink and white. Behind them, the sky was a rich
blue-black.This world was not vague. It was deeply, piercingly alive,
and as vivid as the aroma of fried chicken, as dazzling as the glint of
sunlight off the metalwork of a car, and as startling as the impact of
first love. I know perfectly well how crazy my account sounds, and I
sympathise with those who cannot accept it. Like a lot of things in
life, it sounds pretty far-fetched till you experience it yourself
There were trees, fields, animals
and people. There was water, too, flowing in rivers or descending as
rain. Mists rose from the pulsing surfaces of these waters, and fish
glided beneath them.
Like the earth, the water was
deeply familiar. It was as though all the most beautiful waters capes I
ever saw on earth had been beautiful precisely because they were
reminding me of this living water.
My gaze wanted to travel into it, deeper and deeper.
This water seemed higher, and
more pure than anything I had experienced before, as if it was somehow
closer to the original source.I had stood and admired oceans and rivers
across America, from Carolina beaches to west coast streams, but
suddenly they all seemed to be lesser versions, little brothers and
sisters of this living water. In Heaven, everything is more real — less
dense, yet at the same time more intense.
Heaven is as vast, various and
populated as earth is … in fact, infinitely more so. But in all this
vast variety, there is not that sense of otherness that characterizes
our world, where each thing is alone by itself and has nothing directly
to do with the other things around it.
Nothing is isolated in Heaven. Nothing is
alienated. Nothing is disconnected. Everything is one.I found myself as a
speck of awareness on a butterfly wing,
among pulsing swarms of millions of other butterflies. I witnessed
stunning blue-black velvety skies filled with swooping orbs of golden
light, angelic choirs leaving sparkling trails against the billowing
clouds. Those choirs produced hymns and anthems far beyond anything I
had ever encountered on earth. The sound was colossal: an echoing chant
that seemed to soak me without making me wet.
All my senses had blended. Seeing and hearing were not separate functions. It was as if I could hear the grace and elegance of the airborne creatures, and see the spectacular music that burst out of them.
Even before I began to wonder who or what they were, I understood that they made the music because they could not contain it. It was the sound of sheer joy. They could no more hold it in than you could fill your lungs and never breathe out
Even before I began to wonder who or what they were, I understood that they made the music because they could not contain it. It was the sound of sheer joy. They could no more hold it in than you could fill your lungs and never breathe out
During this voyage, I had a guide. She was an
extraordinarily beautiful woman who first appeared as I rode, as that
speck of awareness, on the wing of that butterfly.
I’d never seen this woman
before. I didn’t know who she was. Yet her presence was enough to heal
my heart, to make me whole in a way I’d never known was possible. Her
face was unforgettable. Her eyes were deep blue, and her cheekbones were
high. Her face was surrounded by a frame of honey-brown hair.
She wore a smock, like a peasant’s, woven from
sheer colour — indigo, powder-blue and pastel shades of orange and
peach. When she looked at me, I felt such an abundance of emotion that,
if nothing good had ever happened to me before, the whole of my life
would have been worth living for that expression in her eyes alone.
It was not romantic love.
It was not friendship. It was far beyond all the different compartments
of love we have on earth. Without actually speaking, she let me know
that I was loved and cared for beyond measure and that the universe was a
vaster, better, and more beautiful place than I could ever have
dreamed.
I was an irreplaceable part of
the whole (like all of us), and all the sadness and fear I had ever
suffered was a result of my somehow having forgotten this most central
of facts.
Her message went through me like a breath of
wind. It’s hard to put it into words, but the essence was this: ‘You are
loved and cherished, dearly, for ever. You have nothing to fear. There
is nothing you can do wrong.’
It was, then, an utterly wonderful experience.
Meanwhile, back on Earth, I had
been in my coma for seven days and showing no signs of improvement. The
doctors were just deciding whether to continue with life support, when I
suddenly regained consciousness. My eyes just popped open, and I was
back. I had no memories of my earthly life, but knew full well where I
had been.I had to relearn everything: who, what, and where I was. Over
days, then weeks, like a gently falling snow, my old, earthly knowledge
came back.Words and language returned within hours and days. With the
love and gentle coaxing of my family and friends, other memories
emerged.
But I was a different
person from the one I had been. The things I had seen and experienced
while gone from my body did not fade away, as dreams and hallucinations
do. They stayed.Above all, that image of the woman on the butterfly wing
haunted me.And then, four months after coming out of my coma, I
received a picture in the mail.
As a result of my earlier
investigations to make contact with my biological family, a relative had
sent me a photograph of my sister Betsy — the sister I’d never known.
The shock of recognition was
total. This was the face of the woman on the butterfly wing.The moment I
realised this, something crystallised inside me.
That photo was the confirmation that I’d needed. This was proof, beyond reproach, of the objective reality of my experience.
From then on, I was back in the old, earthly world I’d left behind before my coma struck, but as a genuinely new person.
I had been reborn.
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