The Gifts of Near Death Experiences: You Don't Have to Die to Experience Your True Home brings a fresh and exciting perspective to understanding near-death experiences. Everyone can benefit from learning the wisdom so clearly and eloquently expressed in this book. With each turn of the page you will find a treasure trove of insights, inspiration, and practical pointers that will really work in your life. This outstanding book is expertly written, remarkably easy to read, and enthusiastically recommended.
—Jeffrey Long, M. D., author of the New York Times bestselling
Evidence of the Afterlife: The Science of Near-Death Experiences
“The Linns have written a book that is both inspirational and practical. They provide wise and gentle wisdom that lead readers into a place of growth and healing.”
—Richard Rohr O. F. M, author of Falling Upward
“The Gifts of Near-Death Experiences will help you develop your own spiritual practice of meditation that can crack open your inner-door so that you too may glimpse beyond into Infinite Love and Light and live a life of love.”
—Peter Panagore, author of Heaven is Beautiful
An extraordinary accomplishment! Yes, The Gifts of Near-Death Experiences is filled with gripping stories, verified research, and more than enough supportive material to stop you in your tracks. Yet there's more. Much more. The authors, Sheila Fabricant, Dennis and Matthew Linn, all three experienced, globe-trotting teachers and counselors, have put together thoughts, suggestions, and how-tos at the end of each chapter to enable YOU the reader to feel what is revealed and then take it into your own life, be one with it, live it NOW (not next week). In fact, everything in this book, no matter the subject, is available, usable. I love the “now-ness” of this, the alive-ness. You don't have to die to experience the truth about yourself, where you're from or where you're going once you leave this life behind. Surprise. . .this is not a book about near-death, not really, it is a book about YOU, the real YOU.”
—P. M. H. Atwater, L. H. D., researcher of near-death states,
author of such books as Near-Death Experiences: The Rest of the
Story, Future Memory, Dying to Know You: Proof of God in the Near-Death
Experience, and Children of the Fifth World.
Copyright © 2016
by Dennis Linn, Sheila Fabricant Linn, and
The Wisconsin Province of the Society of Jesus
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from Hampton Roads Publishing, Inc.
Reviewers may quote brief passages.
Cover design by Jim Warner
Cover art © Pellinni | Dreamstime.com
Interior designed by Howie Severson
Hampton Roads Publishing Company, Inc.
Charlottesville, VA 22906
Distributed by Red Wheel/Weiser, LLC
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ISBN: 978-57174-743-3
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Linn, Dennis, author.
Title: The gifts of near-death experiences : you don't have to die to experience your true home / Dennis Linn, Sheila Fabricant Linn, Matthew Linn.
Description: Newburyport : Hampton Roads Pub., 2016. | Includes bibliographical references.
Identifiers: LCCN 2015050623 | ISBN 9781571747433 (6 × 9 tp : alk. paper)
Subjects: LCSH: Near-death experiences.
Classification: LCC BF1045.N4 L56 2016 | DDC 133.901/3--dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015050623
Printed in Canada
MAR
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Dedicated to Zeke Pierce
and his beloved parents, brothers, and sister
Crawford, Liv, Max, Mia, and Nikken
Foreword, by Kenneth Ring, Ph.D.
Acknowledgments
Introduction: Catching the Benign Virus
Chapter 1: Musical Chairs: Remembering Our Home
Chapter 2: Beyond Words: Ineffability, Peace, and Love
Chapter 3: Out of the Body, or We're Bigger than We Think
Chapter 4: Through the Tunnel: Healing Transitions
Chapter 5: Sacred Space
Chapter 6: Meeting Loved Ones: People
Chapter 7: Meeting Loved Ones: Animals
Chapter 8: The Light
Chapter 9: Affirming Love and Self-Esteem
Prologue to the Life Review
Chapter 10: Life Review: Memories of Love
Chapter 11: Life Review: Who Has Hurt Me?
Chapter 12: Life Review: Whom Have I Hurt?
Chapter 13: Purpose: Why Am I (Still) Here?
Chapter 14: The Examen: A Daily Life Review and a Way to Find Our Purpose
Chapter 15: Who Cares for Us from the Other Side?
Chapter 16: Love Heals the Body
Chapter 17: Opening Ourselves to the Benign Virus
Chapter 18: Already Home: We Come from Where We Are Going
Chapter 19: The Universal Donor
Appendix A: Elements of a Near-Death Experience
Appendix B: Frequency of Near-Death Stages
Appendix C: Life Changes after a Cardiac Arrest With and Without an NDE
Appendix D: Gifts of Near-Death Experiences Free Online Video Stories Seminar
Suggested Resources on Near-Death Experiences
Endnotes
Additional Resources by the Linns
On May 21, 2012, I received an intriguing email from a trio of authors in Colorado, which contained a rare compliment: they were planning to write a book modeled after one of mine dealing with near-death experiences, Lessons from the Light. They wanted to advise me of their intent to make sure it was okay with me. They also asked if I might be willing to confer with them about their undertaking.
I had not heard of these authors, but apparently many others had. I learned that they—a husband and wife, and the brother of the husband—specialized in giving retreats and seminars on spirituality and healing, that they had done so in about sixty countries, and had already written some twenty-two books, which collectively had sold over a million copies. These were certainly well-established and successful authors, so I quickly assented, and with delight, to their overture.
This was the beginning of what has become a deep and loving friendship with the Linns—Denny and Sheila, Denny's brother Matt, and John, Denny and Sheila's teenage son. But that is another story. First, I need to say a bit about the book you are now about to read.
Actually, I should preface this with just a word about Lessons from the Light. The main idea of that book was that if readers really absorbed the implications of the research on near-death experiences (NDEs), they could reap many of the benefits that near-death experiencers themselves gained from their encounter with death. In that context, I argued that such an immersion in this material might function rather like what I called “a benign virus”; that is, by exposing themselves to the world of NDEs, readers could “catch it.”
The Linns wanted to do something similar in their book, but really develop this idea, take it deeper, and do it in a much more systematic way than I had. Indeed, once they had read my book, they realized that rather like Monsieur Jourdan in Molière's play, Le Bourgeois gentilhomme, who was shocked to learn that he had been speaking prose all his life, they had long been speaking the language of NDEs. In short, they had already been offering a very similar perspective in their retreats and writing.
And this aim has been ably achieved in The Gifts of Near-Death Experiences. Of course, in the two score and more years since the publication of Raymond Moody's groundbreaking best seller, Life After Life, which introduced the world to the concept of near-death experiences, there have been many books on the subject, often written by NDErs themselves. These have thrilled and inspired millions of people. But there have been very few books that have attempted to distill the findings of NDE narratives and research so that readers who have not had an NDE themselves could learn how they, too, could come to see the world and live their lives as NDErs do.
The Gifts of Near-Death Experiences does this superbly, better than any book I know. So, although it, too, is replete with inspiring stories of NDEs, it is primarily a book with a practical focus. Every chapter ends with processes, so that the reader can apply the lessons of that chapter in his or her own life. Thus, you will be taken through all the major features of an NDE, and then you will be helped, if you choose, to absorb their benefits into your own life.
Ah, but there is so much more to this book than this bare summary would suggest because it's not just about NDEs; it's also about the role of NDEs and their implications in the lives of the Linns themselves. They offer the reader many intimate glimpses into their own personal history, their daily life, and their life in their community in such a way as to enable you to see just how they have been able to apply the lessons of the NDE in their own lives. Many of these vignettes reveal just how thoughtfully they themselves have been able to practice what they preach (though they never preach—they only invite). None of them has ever had an NDE as such, but they certainly show the effects of having caught “the benign virus.” The hoary expression of “walking your talk” certainly applies to these authors.
I have been lucky enough to see this for myself. After many delightful email exchanges, they suggested that, inasmuch as I was planning to visit one of my daughters in Colorado, I might want to spend some time with them during which I could actively collaborate with them on their book over a period of several days. I accepted with alacrity.
Once my visit to my daughter was over with, a friend of the Linns drove me to their house in the Colorado mountains. There were fifty-five steps up a seemingly small mountain to their front door—for a moment, I thought I was back in Amsterdam! But the Linns were very welcoming, and we all had a wonderful and warm conversation over the dinner that Sheila had gone to a great deal of trouble to prepare.
But trouble of another kind was soon to come.
In the morning, after taking a shower, I nearly burned down their house.
When the shower was over, I turned on the switch that controlled the heat lamp in their downstairs bathroom. Or I had innocently assumed that it did. I was wrong.
It actually controlled the sauna in the adjacent room.
That sauna was used only for storage.
Soon smoke began to billow out, the smoke alarms went off, and all hell broke loose!
Matt, who had been sleeping in the room next to mine, jumped out into the hallway, the other Linns, who had been sleeping upstairs, leapt out of their beds and came charging downstairs (Denny injuring his leg in the process), and we all began furiously trying to beat out the fire before it spread any further.
It was touch and go for several minutes, but finally it was quelled.
I felt like killing myself.
By now, the fire brigade had arrived—the paramedics, ambulances, the works. We all had to clear out for a time.
When we were allowed back in, the house reeked of smoke, although the actual structural damage was confined mostly to the sauna.
The rest of the day was devoted to various officials coming by—insurance inspectors, cleaning people, etc.
The house would be uninhabitable for several days. (Fortunately, there was an attached house that was empty that we could use in the meantime.)
So much for our book collaboration!
By now, I had learned that though the Linns had insurance, their deductible was still $5,000. I wanted to pay them before killing myself.
And you know what? They wouldn't hear of it! I insisted, they resisted. I persisted. Finally, Sheila told me in so many words that she would whack me if I dared even mention the subject again.
I won't continue with everything that took place over the next few days except to say that all the Linns did was to offer me love, support, kisses, and promises of their enduring friendship. We had the best time together—despite everything—and shared many intimate personal stories. We even managed to get quite a lot of work done on their book.
This is how I really came to know and love the Linns. That's the kind of people they are.
They will probably object to the way this foreword has ended, since they are very modest and self-effacing. But, hell, although this is their book, it is my foreword, and I'll write it the way I want!
However, I only mention all this to make it clear to you that under the most frightening and stressful of circumstances, the Linns showed me just how much they already were the perfect ones to write the book you now hold in your hands.
I also learned to take showers in dim light, if necessary.
We wish to gratefully acknowledge the following people for their kindness and care in helping us with the manuscript for this book: Margaret Grant, Barbara Harris Whitfield, Michael Imperi, Julie Keith, Kenneth Ring, Frances Shure, Bert Thelen, and Zeke's Family.
We also wish to express our appreciation to Greg Brandenburgh and his colleagues at Hampton Roads: You are a joy to work with!
There is a six-hour stretch of road between my home in Colorado and Santa Fe, New Mexico, that I (Denny) have traveled at least fifty times. I thoroughly enjoy it, because the road is full of memories. It passes by some of the snow-capped “fourteeners” (mountains over fourteen thousand feet high) that I have climbed with my family, the streams we have rafted, and the lakes we have fished. I have been there so many times that I know what will be around the next curve in the road.
What surprises us is that people who have had near-death experiences (NDErs) often report something similar. Not only do they see mountains, streams, and lakes, but even more remarkable, they remember having been there before, to the point that they know what will be around the next curve.
For example, following is the near-death experience of Arthur Yensen, who was in a car accident:
Gradually the earth scene faded away, and through it loomed a bright, new, beautiful world—beautiful beyond imagination! . . .
In the background were two beautiful, round-topped mountains, similar to Fujiyama in Japan. The tops were snow-capped, and the slopes were adorned with foliage of indescribable beauty. The mountains appeared to be about fifteen miles away, yet I could see individual flowers growing on their slopes. I estimated my vision to be about one hundred times better than on earth.
To the left was a shimmering lake containing a different kind of water—clear, golden, radiant, and alluring. It seemed to be alive. The whole landscape was carpeted with grass so vivid, clear, and green, that it defies description. To the right was a grove of large, luxuriant trees, composed of the same clear material that seemed to make up everything.
. . . Then I noticed that the landscape was gradually becoming familiar. It seemed as if I had been here before. I remembered what was on the other side of the mountains. Then with a sudden burst of joy, I realized that this was my real home! Back on earth I had been a visitor, a misfit, and a homesick stranger. With a sigh of relief I said to myself, Thank God I'm back again. This time I'll stay!1
Raymond Moody first used the term near-death experience. He was referring to experiences like Arthur's, in which people appear to be dead or dying, leave their bodies, find themselves fully conscious in another realm, and then return to this life. Since the 1975 publication of Moody's book, Life After Life,2 accounts of near-death experiences (NDEs) have been widely disseminated and are fascinating to a broad spectrum of the population worldwide. They have captured the public imagination in a profound way. For example, we notice that whenever NDEs come up in our conversations with a wide range of people, they appear fascinated and eager to learn more. Why?
I wonder if the reason for this profound attraction to NDEs is that hearing about them triggers a memory deep within us. It is sort of like a homecoming. Accounts of NDEs are like echoes that resonate from somewhere inside ourselves so that we want to keep hearing stories that awaken us more fully to that awareness.
—Raymond Moody, The Light Beyond3
What actually happens during a near-death experience? Dr. Jeffrey Long and his wife, Jody, have the largest collection of NDE accounts in the world that is publicly accessible. As of now, they have over four thousand accounts of NDEs in more than twenty languages.4 They find that, in general, the same basic elements occur all over the world:
Whether it's a near-death experience of a Hindu in India, a Muslim in Egypt, or a Christian in the United States, the same core elements are present in all, including out-of-body experience, tunnel experience, feelings of peace, beings of light, a life review, reluctance to return, and transformation after the NDE. In short, the experience of dying appears similar among all humans, no matter where they live.
. . . Near-death experiences remind us that although the people on Earth may be a world apart, they may share this important spiritual experience. It's amazing to think that no matter what country we call home, perhaps our real home is in the wondrous unearthly realm consistently described by NDErs around the world.5
Because they transcend religious affiliation and culture, Kenneth Ring calls NDEs the “universal donor.”
In “shared death experiences” (SDEs), loved ones or other caregivers accompanying a dying person experience some of the elements listed above, including leaving their bodies, seeing deceased loved ones and beings of Light, sharing in the dying person's life review, and so forth. In other words, they go partway on the journey.
This happened within Raymond Moody's own family. His story is especially convincing because several family members experienced the same thing simultaneously. When Dr. Moody's mother was dying, he, his wife, his two sisters, and their husbands were by the mother's bedside.
As we held hands around the bed, the room seemed to change shape and four of the six of us felt as though we were being lifted off the ground. I had the feeling that the room had turned into the shape of an hour-glass. I felt a strong pull, like a riptide that was pulling me out to sea, only the pull was upward.
“Look,” said my sister, pointing to a spot at the end of the bed. “Dad's here! He's come back to get her!”
Everyone there reported later that the light in the room changed to a soft and fuzzy texture. It was like looking at light in a swimming pool at night.6
Later, one of Dr. Moody's brothers-in-law said, “I felt like I left my physical body and went into another plane with her. It was like nothing that had ever happened to me.”7
NDEs have sometimes been dismissed as hallucinations caused by a drugged and/or dying brain. SDEs indicate that this could not be the case, since those who have SDEs are typically healthy people, and more than one healthy person may participate in the same SDE.
The elements of an NDE are not limited to near-death situations, but also occur in more or less healthy people, sometimes during physical or psychological emergencies but also during seemingly ordinary moments of life. Such experiences might be called “Near-Death-Like-Experiences.”8
When we mention NDEs in conversation or when speaking to groups, almost everyone knows someone who has had an NDE. Approximately 12 to 18 percent of people who nearly die have an NDE; we do not know why some people who are near death have an NDE and others do not.9 In a 1992 Gallup poll, the number of people in the United States who have had NDEs was estimated at about fourteen million, or about 5 percent of our population at the time.10 A more recent study, reported by the International Association for Near-Death Studies, estimates that between 4 and 15 percent of the world's population has had a near-death experience.11
People have had NDEs throughout human history; why are we increasingly aware of them now? A partial explanation may be that modern medicine has a greater capacity to resuscitate people, such as those who have cardiac arrests and who might not have recovered several decades ago. This in turn means that more medical staff members have heard stories of NDEs from patients, and they are increasingly open to taking these stories seriously rather than assuming patients are delusional and calling a psychiatrist.
We also find it significant that NDEs and the widespread study of them are so much in our awareness at this present time of a profound shift in human consciousness. The NDE seems to reveal a different way of being in the world that matches this shift. We humans have lived for the past several thousand years believing we are essentially selfish, aggressive, and ultimately on our own, and that we must compete in order to survive. However, research on the frontiers of science, including quantum physics, cellular biology, and epigenetics, is revealing that we are “all connected at the deepest level as one being.”12 This one being is made of infinite, unconditional, and universal love. That is the message of the NDE.
Sometimes, in more extensive NDEs, people realize that they are the love and Light they encounter, they are one with everything, they are eternal. NDErs often describe their experience as “more real than life itself,” and they are usually profoundly changed by it for the better.13
Even the most hardened of criminals and the sickest of sociopaths may return from an NDE ready and able to love others. For example, Caroline Myss shares the following story:
I know one man personally who was a mercenary who was “on his way to work one day,” meaning he was off to shoot three people, when he had an accident and had a near-death experience. Suddenly he was out of his body and surrounded by the individuals he had murdered, all of whom told him he had to stop immediately. Needless to say, he did. But let me add, the message was delivered with compassion and not the fires of hell. Today he obviously leads a very different life.14
What if we all had an NDE? Could we ever go to war again? Could we ever knowingly hurt another human being or any other living thing, including the Earth itself? What would happen to the problems and hurts that cause so much stress in our lives, such as addictions and compulsions, low self-esteem, grief for the loss of loved ones and fear of death? These are all ways we can get stuck emotionally, and we might say that emotional stuckness is forgetting who we are. An NDE is remembering. In other words, the effects of an NDE are also the symptoms of remembering who we really are . . . of coming home to ourselves.
Many people who have NDEs want to remain in what they recognize as their true home. They do not want to return to a world in which the social environment is so contrary to the realm of light and love they have experienced. The NDEr may struggle to find a safe place to be.
For example, when we are in the Boston area, we usually give a program at the women's prison in Framingham, at the invitation of the chaplain. The first time we went, Ellie, a volunteer in the pastoral care department, accompanied us through security. I (Sheila) felt some fear at all the clanging of keys and banging of steel doors behind us, but Ellie had wonderful energy, and I felt safe with her. I noticed that she was limping. When I asked her why she volunteered at the prison, she told me she had been in a car accident and had had an NDE. Except for her limp, she recovered. She began going to churches, looking for the love she had felt during her NDE. She didn't find it. Then she came to volunteer at the prison. It was with the inmates, she said, that she felt closest to the infinite, unconditional love she had experienced during her NDE.
By the end of the day, I knew what she meant. A cloud of mercy seemed to hang over the whole place. Perhaps the women's vulnerability and lack of persona or pretense—so unlike most of our culture—allow them to resonate to the Light in a way that was palpable to me. In prison, people at least know that what they have been doing doesn't work, and they are reaching out for help. Perhaps their openness makes a way for the loving Light to come and put its arms around the prison. For Ellie, profoundly changed by her NDE, it was the least alien, most nourishing place she could find.
The immersion in unconditional love that Ellie experienced and that is so characteristic of NDEs seems to offer a solution to our most serious personal and social problems. How can the rest of us, who have not had an NDE, benefit from this?
The inspiration for this book came from Frances Shure and Dr. Kenneth Ring. Fran is a social activist whose political advocacy includes a particularly controversial issue. She publicly speaks up about this issue in ways that have brought death threats and other forms of retaliation to some of her colleagues. When we asked Fran, “Where do you get your courage?” she said, “It comes from reading about near-death experiences. I've used them for my morning meditation for the past ten years.” She showed us her current NDE reading, Lessons from the Light, by Kenneth Ring.15
In his book, Ken (now a beloved friend and mentor for this present work) suggests that not only NDErs but all the rest of us, as well, can open ourselves to the lessons of the NDE. He describes the NDE as a “benign virus,” by which he means that just getting absorbed in hearing or reading about NDEs, as Fran did, can have some of the same effects upon us as actually having an NDE.16 We experienced this as we read Ken's book, listened to friends who have had NDEs, and immersed ourselves in more of the NDE literature. It was, for us, a “homecoming,” as Moody puts it.
As we read about the elements of an NDE, we realized that most are similar to processes for growth and healing that we have led for many years in our retreats and seminars all over the world. Our experience tells us these are universal processes that are built into us. Thus, in this book we offer the healing processes we have used with our participants, but with a different intention: we offer these processes as avenues or windows into the state of consciousness of people who have actually had an NDE, so that we can enter that same state at least to some degree.
The consequences of catching the benign virus of the NDE became all the more evident to us as we were writing this book, when we (Denny and Sheila) had a living experience of its importance. Our son's fifteen-year-old lifelong friend, Zeke, suffered a severe head injury in a mountain bike accident. He never regained consciousness and died five days later. Zeke's family called us to the hospital, and we were with them during most of those five days. Zeke was almost entirely brain-dead, with no activity above the brain stem, and his parents had to decide to take him off life support and let him go.
Even though it had been clear to Zeke's parents from the first moment they saw him in the emergency room that he was no longer in his body, the turning point in their ability to let him go came as they fully grasped the real presence of Zeke's spirit loving them. Signs of this were the dreams Zeke's brother and sister were having, in which Zeke spoke to them and seemed to be guiding medical decisions that needed to be made. At the same time, our own son John sensed Zeke in John's bedroom at home. Zeke also appeared to a close friend of the family in another country and told her, “I'm okay.” We encouraged Zeke's family to trust these experiences.
Knowing that he was still present but in another form, the family was able to gather around Zeke's bed and say goodbye to his physical life. We invited each family member to hold his hand or touch his face and in turn tell Zeke what they loved about him and how they wanted him to continue to be with them. Then they could trust that taking him off life support and letting his body go was the best way to have him present everywhere and forever.
After Zeke died, we were responsible for the memorial service at the school he attended with John. The whole community was distraught, with people in various stages of shock and grief. In a much simpler and briefer way, we replicated with the thousand people who attended the service what we had done with Zeke's family in the hospital. Grieving is a process, and each person who loved Zeke is still going through it in his or her own way. However, our awareness of Zeke's ongoing presence and our ability to transmit that to the group did seem to help many people and open them to a world of love and connection that transcends death. We believe it was simply our openness to NDEs and the extent to which we have caught the benign virus by immersing ourselves in them that gave us an intuitive sense of how to be present to Zeke's family in the hospital and to the larger community at the memorial service.
This experience has deepened our awareness of the importance of near-death experiences for both living and dying. We want our readers to catch the benign virus, access the healing and transformative power of the NDE, and become fully alive . . . without having to die.
Our goal is for you to catch the benign virus. You can use this book in various ways to help you do so. You can simply read it, notice what moves you, and let that grow inside you. You can also do the healing processes and reflection questions at the end of each chapter. You may wish to watch the videos of NDErs' brief personal accounts that accompany each chapter in this book; if so, see Appendix D and the The Gifts of Near-Death Experiences free online video stories seminar on our website, www.linnministries.org. You can do any of this on your own, or you may wish to invite one or more companions to join you. Most of all, you can watch and wait for people who have had NDEs themselves and who may sense that your heart is open to them and you will listen.
We do believe you can receive the healing benefits of the near-death experience without having to die. Dr. Jeffrey Long describes how this happened to him:
For me personally, I'm showing more love to others now than before I started my near-death experience studies. My understanding of near-death experiences has made me a better doctor. I face life with more courage and confidence. I believe NDErs really do bring back a piece of the afterlife. When NDErs share their remarkable experiences, I believe a piece of the afterlife, in some mysterious way, becomes available to us all.17
1 
We have given seminars in over sixty countries. In places with a long history of war and division, we may have participants from both sides of the conflict. For example, in Northern Ireland we had the families of people who were murdered during the conflict between Protestants and Catholics and the killers in the same room, helping them to forgive one another and reconnect with deceased loved ones.
Participants in our programs also come from a wide variety of classes and social backgrounds. We often work in Mexico, which has a deeply entrenched class system. We know maids in wealthy homes there who have served a family for many years, yet never eaten a meal at the same table as their employers. An aspect of our seminars in Mexico that moves us deeply is when an upper class family and their maid come to the seminar together, sit together, and participate in healing processes together.
With such diverse groups, how can we help people experience their common humanity? We usually begin with a process that we have found especially helpful in this regard. We ask for seven volunteers and invite them up onto the stage, where we have arranged six chairs in a circle. Then we play musical chairs in the usual, competitive way. During each round, as the music plays, the volunteers walk around the circle of chairs. When the music stops, each one tries to sit in a chair. Whoever is left without a chair has to leave the game. Following each round we remove a chair. At the end, one chair is left, with one winner sitting in it.
Then we play a second time with the same people, but we change one of the rules. Following each round we again remove a chair, but the remaining chairs can be shared. By the end of the game, the last chair has seven people piled upon it. Most recently in Mexico, the seven people included Denny and Sheila's son, John, and six adoring señoras. Some of the ladies were servants, and some were their wealthy employers. All of them were laughing and holding on to one another so that no one fell off the chair. Seven winners.1
We asked our volunteers and then the entire audience, “Which game did you like better?” The unanimous response was the second one. When we asked them why they preferred the second way of playing, they said that the first way of playing resembled the usual way of living in their culture, based on competition that divides people into winners and losers. The second way was how they want to live, in a world of cooperation where everyone helps each other and everyone wins. They realized that their happiest moments are when they live this way.
We noticed that their comments mirrored the changes so often reported by NDErs. However much their lives prior to their NDE have been consumed by our culture's values of competition, when they return they typically refuse to live that way any longer and often dedicate themselves to cooperation and service. NDErs remember that their original home is a world of loving union, and revisiting that home during their NDE generally affects them so powerfully that they do their best to live that way here. It is as if their energy has been cleansed of the ways our culture has distorted it and has been restored to its original frequency.
An NDE is perhaps the most powerful of mystical experiences. Commenting on the transformative power of mystical experiences in general, Aldous Huxley wrote,
A population trained to make use of such “other kinds of seeing” as the aesthetic, the visionary, and the mystical would be unmanageable by the traditional methods of narcotizing or inebriating propaganda. In the eyes of the politicians and generals who control our destinies, it is most undesirable that the mass of humanity should be trained to see the world as beauty, as mysteriousness, as unity. It is in a culture-conditioned world of utilitarian values, dogmatic bumptiousness, and international dissensions that our rulers have come to the top; and that is the kind of world they would like their subjects to go on being conditioned to create for themselves. Meanwhile let us derive what comfort we may from the thought that other kinds of seeing are always there, parted from the normal waking of consciousness (in William James's words) “by the filmiest of screens.”2
It is an “other kind of seeing” that significantly inoculates the NDEr against the competitive values of musical chairs #1. Perhaps this is why two of the most common changes following an NDE are increases in a sense of social justice and in the desire to help others.3
It also seems significant to us that when hospice patients share their greatest regrets about their lives, the things they most wish they had done match what NDErs report having become most important to them now. For example, the most common regret among hospice patients is, “I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me,” followed by “I wish I hadn't worked so hard.” NDErs commonly report a new freedom to live as their real self rather than according to the expectations of others, as well as a change in their priorities so that loving relationships are now far more important than work. Thus, it seems that when we are most in touch with our true nature, whether because of an NDE or some other experience that cuts through cultural distortions, we all know what matters most in life.4