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Thread: Contemplating mortality

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    United States Avalon Member thepainterdoug's Avatar
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    Default Re: Contemplating mortality

    I WAS INSPIRED TO SHARE THIS NDE, after reading all posted here. Contemplate this. There is an outside force governing and controlling our existence. We are left here to fend for ourselves, but sometimes, that hand reaches in to help
    ///

    Gender: Male
    Date NDE Occurred: November, 1966

    I was sledding down an alleyway that intersected with an avenue at the bottom. I could not stop before entering the avenue. I went out into the street and struck the front bumper of the white Cadillac with my head.

    That very moment, I left myself and was out on the sidewalk. I was not standing on the ground; I was hovering. There was a girl, my age, standing on the ground next to me holding her head and screaming. I could hear her and I looked at her. She was very afraid of what she was seeing, so I turned and looked in the direction she was looking. It was ‘Me’ and I was in the process of about to be run over by the car. At that time, the knowledge came to me that if I wanted any chance to live that I needed to slow the car down so when the tire went over me, the body had to be on its back. I knew, somehow, that if the car ran me over on my stomach, it would not survive.

    I slowed the car down and was directing it when to go over the body. I did get it to run over the body facing up and now I had to have the same thing happen with the back tire. The car, being so low to the ground, was making the body that was my body, to roll over and over. Once it got near the rear tire I slowed down the car, again, so it ran over me facing upwards. It did, it ran me over facing upwards. Now the body was stuck behind the rear tire and a big clump of snow that was stuck to the car. I watched the car drag my body down the road until it intersected the next road. When the car hit the dip in the road, the body fell out.

    I remember being glad that it was over but the girl was still screaming. She screamed all the way through this experience. Because she was screaming, a man came out of his house at the back door, looked towards us and looked in the direction the girl that is ‘we’) were looking. He saw my body and he ran over to it. The body was crawling, using only the left arm. I think it was trying to go home. Not sure. While the man was running over to my body, I tried to tell the girl that I was okay. But she couldn’t hear me nor see me. I tried to grab her but my hands went through her.

    That was the point where I was beginning to understand what was happening. I looked towards my body. The man arrived and grabbed it and turned it over cradling its head. He looked back towards his wife and said ‘call an ambulance the kid is dying.’ The girl was crying very hard holding her head. At that time and moment, I was told to go back or come forward. I went over to my body; I did not walk I just floated.

    I was hovering over my body when again I was told, ‘It’s getting late, make up your mind what you’re going to do’. As I was looking, down I said, ‘I am not going in there’. The body was bleeding out of its mouth, ears, and nose. I could see the pain it was in so I said, ‘I am not going back in there.’ That is when I left the site.

    It sounded like some kind of machine turned on and I was in this very dark tunnel with a very tiny spot of light way, way far in front of me. I could feel myself going forward towards the light. As I got closer to the light I noticed the light was brighter than any other light I had seen in my life, but it did not hurt my eyes. The FEELING I had, as I was getting closer, was a feeling of love: Kind of being in your mother’s arms, but much, much more.

    As I approached the light, I felt no fear nor was I worried about anything. I felt everything was okay. As I walked out of the tunnel, everything got very cloudy, but I could make out figures of people walking towards me. I did not see their faces; they just walked by me on my left and right. I walked further away from the tunnel and got scared again. Afraid that I would not find my way back. I kept hearing water dripping like being in a tunnel with an echo. I walked some more and came upon a pair of steps. The steps were solid gold. I remember thinking that if I could take some of these steps back to my mother, everything would be fine. My mom was a widow for a long time and we suffered hardships along the way.

    On the side of the steps was a plaque and it read ‘flight ###’, I can't remember the number but it was a three digit number. That is when I heard or noticed someone coming down the stairs. I ran a short distance away from the steps and knelt down in the fog, so I would not be seen. As this person began to come down the steps, I could see his feet and ankles, then his legs. I felt now that I knew this person but wasn't sure who it was. As he came down the steps, I could see his chest and his chest had a white corsage on it. I should have known, at that point, who he was but I didn't.

    My dad had a white corsage on his chest lying in his casket before we buried him. When his face came into view, I saw that it was my daddy! I was six years old when he died. I got up and started to run towards the stairs yelling ‘Dad, Dad, oh Daddy I am sorry for what I have done.’ He smiled at me, I could see his gold tooth, and he stopped coming down the steps. He then said to me, ‘It doesn't matter, as long as you are truly sorry for what you have done.’ I replied, ‘Yes, Dad, I am really sorry.’ Then he said, ‘well then, that's all you need. How about you come to live with me for a while?’ I answered, ‘yes, I would like that.’ He stretched out his hand for me to come and I did. He took me by the hand and turned around and we started walking up the steps.

    We took a few steps and we stopped. He sighed and asked me ‘what's wrong?’ His head was down looking towards the ground, he never looked at me again, I answered, ‘I can't go with you, Mommy and Richie, (my little brother) will cry.’ At that very moment, I heard something like a record player going backwards.

    I felt pain, a lot of pain and I could not breathe. I opened my eyes and saw a man holding me. It was the man who came out of his house when the girl was screaming. I tried to talk to him but I could not talk. It hurt very badly to breathe. I finally got out the words, I am not proud of what I said but I said, ‘I can't breathe you son of a bitch.’ He said okay just hang on; an ambulance is on its way. There were at this time, a lot of people around. They must have come there when I was gone. Some said they knew the man and me sent them to tell my mother. Our apartment was a block away.

    As the ambulance was arriving, so did my mother. She fell in the snow running towards me and I laughed to myself and commented. As we were traveling in the ambulance to leave, I remember going in and out of my body, watching my mother, the nurse and myself. Every time we would hit a bump or make a turn, the pain was so bad, that it threatened my life. I found out later that my body was crushed. Most of my ribs were broken and stuck into my lungs. My body cavity was filling up with blood. The doctors at the hospital told my mother there was nothing they could do. ‘He is filling up his cavity with blood and if we cut him open he will bleed out.’ I remember things going on, off, and on.

    My whole family was there at the hospital. Six doctors were around me talking. My mother sent for a priest for my last rights. She did not know nor did any doctor know what I knew: I was going to be okay. When Father T arrived, I tried to talk to him, but couldn't. I could only move my left arm and my head side to side. I kept reaching out to him over and over again. Father T looked into my eyes and I shook my head ‘no’. We did not talk but we did. He looked again in my eyes with a smile as if saying, ‘You’ve been there and you’re going to be okay’. I shook my head, ‘Yes’. He then told my mother, ‘He is going to be fine’, and that I did not need last rights. She insisted that he did. As he began the last rights, we kept smiling at each other, like in conversation that ‘We know but they don't’.

    The hospital kept a 24-hour vigil over me, taking vitals at times. The doctors told my mother ‘if we can stabilize him we will operate’. I knew that there would be no operation. In the early morning hours, I fell asleep. The nurse panicked and started giving me oxygen and calling for help. Little did she know that blowing up my lungs with oxygen was piercing my lungs from the broken ribs. I could not fight her off or the others that had answered her call for help. I could only move my left arm.

    Again, I left my body and watched as they tried to help. Finally, a male nurse said ‘take the oxygen off’ and they did. I was fine. In the morning, the doctors began coming in, one by one. They were discussing my condition and could not explain what happened to me with each other. But I knew. Finally, the doctors went out and told my family, ‘We cannot explain it, but we cannot find any blood in his cavity. He is stable and we will continue watching me.’ Later during my hospital stay, they sent in psychiatrist to talk to me about my experience. I did not tell them anything.

  2. The Following 11 Users Say Thank You to thepainterdoug For This Post:

    Bill Ryan (7th March 2021), Ernie Nemeth (6th March 2021), Gracy May (7th March 2021), Harmony (4th March 2021), Hym (4th March 2021), Johan (Keyholder) (4th March 2021), Ken (4th March 2021), Mad Scientist (4th March 2021), rgray222 (4th March 2021), Yoda (4th March 2021), Zirconian (6th March 2021)

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    Default Re: Contemplating mortality

    Dear Doug: I found your response seemingly quite by accident. I no longer believe in accidents. I have been left with the assurance that there is no death, and I do not fear leaving this vale. However, from time to time, I swear that the first entity on the other side who makes me relive my experiences to see where I went wrong or was unkind is going to get a smack in the nose. My sleeves are rolled up and ready to take aim. However, I suspect it already knows this and is prepared to duck.

    Here is an experience which I was shown in a dream about actual events which occurred in my life. I married at 24 to the first man in my life who was older than I. He was from a family of ten children and they were poor; therefore, he did not wish children and did something to have himself fixed, which he never told me. After many years we decided to separate, as friends. Some time later he admitted to my parents what he had done to me. A short time after that confession he met a girl one-half his age and married her. I discovered accidentally that he never told her and she was visiting doctors to discover what was wrong with her that there were no babies. Years passed, my father died, then he died and I had this dream.

    I had a solar hot water heating tank in the kitchen. Someone was threatening him and he was cowering and begging for mercy in my presence. I did not make any connection with our past and the present dream and showed no indication that I wished revenge. Suddenly, he turned into this sweat little boy who went into the corner and was praying for forgiveness. What did I make of this experience? Our heavenly guardian threatened him with hell (symbolized by the hot water heater. I only made this connection some time after), and as I showed no hurt, he was not harmed. Many years later, I was at the computer in the same house, and I turned to look at the doorway at the head of the passage just in time to see him peeping around the doorway looking at me. I must explain that this vision seemed more spiritual than physical, but it was sight nevertheless. I have, in the same manner, seen my grandmother, larger than life standing over her grave along with her sister, smiling at me as I decorated my mother's grave with flowers. I recently had a dream about several of my ancestors who had been summoned by my anger against what they had done to my mother and her descendants. They were there in full formal regalia. Apparently anger against the dead is more powerful than I thought.

    I happened on this wonderful video and thought Doug would just love to see this!
    It is: Bitchute.com/David Zublick/June Lundgrun/Dark Entities 5/21/20.
    She had written five books on what you want to know. She is the real thing, and what a beautiful face, an angel on Earth. You must see it. Do also look at the other videos on David Zublick's site. General McInerney (who is with Trump) has declared that World War III has begun, a must see. I have looked at your video interviews. You are a sweatheart and I wish you well with your play.

  4. The Following 2 Users Say Thank You to amor For This Post:

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  5. Link to Post #23
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    Default Re: Contemplating mortality

    Doug: I believe God loves us. We should focus on him in prayer. Words are not required. It is heart to heart. Focus on the gland in the middle of your head. If you think of it you will feel it pulsing, then connect. I believe we are already in him a part of God and our excursion outward is really the mental part. When the dream of life comes to an end, we are with God, as we had never left, nor can we. If you have done anything in your life for which you feel guilty, commune with God and ask him to show you why you did this or that and what you can do to be better. I have had other experiences about which I have written on Avalon. I am sorry you feel so alone. We all do in this crazy world and you are loved and not alone. By being who you are, you unknowingly make others feel safer in the world. Your friends love you, I can tell.

  6. The Following 3 Users Say Thank You to amor For This Post:

    Bill Ryan (7th March 2021), Gracy May (7th March 2021), Zirconian (6th March 2021)

  7. Link to Post #24
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    Default Re: Contemplating mortality

    To answer Doug's question about whether my above experience has satisfied me. This is something I have wondered myself. Looking at my life, never being settled in one place for life similar to the seemingly settled existence of others, not having a family, etc., having to care for others more than myself, having to witness experiences that I would not wish on anyone and quietly endure in disbelief. Perhaps God felt sorry for me. However, I know I have lived other lives as there have been very fleeting but intense memories of being elsewhere, even once being a small boy. He was on the front porch of a mansion with a very large family looking onto a great lawn. He had the most blessed experience of perfect security, what peace. The next fleeting memory was of being a young woman in a long dress in the same mansion, looking out the Library window which was an immense sash window, almost floor to ceiling. Behind me was a large table, floor to ceiling bookshelves with a sliding ladder. In NYC at the Metropolitan Museum, there was a period room display with a similar looking sash window. I experienced a loving, longing memory for that place I knew. A third fleeting memory was being in a small town among the Pennsylvania Dutch. At nine years old I spent several weeks in a hospital with an infected ankle. It was a Ward with adult women and we were talking. I remember saying that the reason we cannot remember our past lives was that we were bad and God hid our memories from us. Now there was no consciousness of that subject in my empty child mind. It had to have come from subconscious knowledge. Knowledge, it seems, was always my ultimate goal and I feel, correctly or not, that I have been given it. There is only one thing that I feel cheated of and perhaps that is the trap that will bring me back. Drat it!

  8. The Following 2 Users Say Thank You to amor For This Post:

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