Best Part of Having a Near-Death Experience: Just Being Alive
Have you ever come close to dying — or actually dying but brought back to life medically or miraculously?
I have — one time officially, and six times unofficially.
What do I mean by that? I’m referring to having a near-death experience (NDE) as opposed to something else you were very fortunate to have lived through. Let’s call it a close call.
In August 2007, I collapsed and stopped breathing twice in one day — resuscitated once by my wife trained in CPR and mouth-to-mouth, and the second time in a hospital emergency room. I would soon be cut off from all memory for the next six weeks; though I do remember a deceased loved one being present in the hospital room to soothe and guide me. I had encephalitis, or swelling of the brain, something I’d never heard of before.
That’s official. The other six are not, depending on what definition you use.
The first of the other six experiences: age seven in Devil’s Postpile National Monument where I fell off a mountain side, got hung up in tree branches right over a river and waterfall; and had my father scale down and save my life.
The next one: age 11 in the Colorado River, goofing with a friend of mine when I suddenly realized I was being swept away. I forgot all the details from swimming lessons and completely freaked out. My sister Ellen and two family friends took turns bringing me in.
Then, age 15 in Seal Beach, where I’m boogie boarding with a buddy. We see a little boy drowning in hurricane surf so I shoot out to save him. Both of us soon end up drowning until a lifeguard swims over and gets us out of there.
Age 24: I drank two Long Island Iced Teas, which was like drinking six alcohol beverages. Then I got home and hit the marijuana water bong. I remember hearing some really bad music and thinking how sad that was to be listening to as I was dying. I soon heard my first wife and her sister screaming and then pulling me out of a chair to walk — until I had to go throw up in the bathroom. They said I looked like a ghost. I remember clearly how that moment they described happened right after I’d been pondering how I was drifting into death.
Age 27: I drove my car in a complete blackout after drinking heavily earlier that night. I jumped the curb in a park and hit two trees. It was enough for me to bend the steering wheel to the dashboard with my chest and attempt to break the windshield with my head. I came to hours later in a hospital emergency room. A police officer stood at the entrance, and I begged the nurses to tell me if I’d killed someone. They didn’t know. (It turned out to be about a gang stabbing, and not me).
Then there was encephalitis at age 44, as I mentioned. Just when I thought it was all over, I had one more to go through. At age 49, I was driving with a friend on the 710 freeway in Long Beach, Calif. It was jammed with the usual big-rig trucks that had come from the port. I attempted to enter that freeway by driving on the right shoulder looking for an opening. As I pulled into a patch of space in that lane, the truck driver approaching me had been honking and waving at me not to do something that risky and stupid.
But I did it. We were bumped by that truck one lane over to the left where a big-rig going about 60 miles per hour hit us, throwing my Honda Element sliding sideways to the right shoulder. For me, it created one of those experiences that a Vietnam War veteran told me about having during the war when a bomb had gone off 10 feet away from him. Everything froze for a few moments until the chaos ensued. My friend riding with me in the Element, who’d previously been injured and lived with mobility limitations, had to be extracted from my car by paramedics using “the jaws of life.”
No alcohol or drugs were involved in that one. It was more about not dealing with stress and a situation in my life that was troubling — while falling into distraction and deniability.
What happens during and after an NDE
The International Association for Near-Death Studies (IANDAS) defines an NDE as something profound, life changing, and intensely emotional that can happen during a “clinical crisis” such as accidents, near-drownings, illnesses, combat, surgical procedures, and childbirth. The “experiencer” will have a very big (massive) experience with it — perhaps being detached from their body, being in another world, seeing their life in review, heading down a tunnel toward light, and other psychic and spiritual experiences they had no idea would be possible to have.
I had some of that in 2007, but my other six episodes would probably not officially qualify.
That doesn’t really matter to me, and I suspect for other people out there in the world, that distinction isn’t too important. For anyone who’s attempted suicide, overdosed on drugs, nearly got hit by a bullet, got hit by one or more bullets but survived, were nearly trampled to death by a crowd, and countless other traumatic experiences, it can be a life-altering experience — to say the least.
I did have some profound spiritual/life experiences from encephalitis, and the other close calls I described. What interests me the most is what comes later. The magical, profound life-altering experience is an amazing gift to experience, but then there’s daily life and all that goes with it. You still have to pay your taxes, make the same mistakes once again, cause unintended consequences, and get a little older and closer to death every day.
I think we all get to learn a lot from powerful life experiences, but the best part for me has been applying those truths to my daily living. That can be annoying, tedious, frustrating, and occasionally embarrassing; but the rewards can be quite precious.
I’m once again attempting to get a book written on all of it, which I’ve been telling people about for years. I would also call some of it a non-book, because that would require integrating other media channels — podcasts, chats, live meetings, and more. I do have a strong desire to hear other people’s stories on NDE/close calls, and what they’ve truly gained from it all.
What I’ve learned from all of it
There are two recurring themes that I’ve drawn from my seven NDE/CC experiences:
Recognizing I was doing some high-risk, self-sabotaging behavior. I’ve never intentionally attempted to commit suicide. I’ve had my rounds with it where I feel perplexed and even condemning of those who’ve done so; especially its severe impact on their loved ones’ lives.
What I’ve had to see is that some of my experiences have involved me taking some serious risks that could have ended my life — and that of other people; or that could have caused severe damage and trauma. I was the big part of it — why it happened.
What I’ve had to go through is taking a very deep, long look at it; and talk to others about it. That might have happened after going through it internally in meditation and journaling. I did end up talking about it at length with trusted fellows — and what I’ve had to do to not go down that path again.
I try to not forget the blessings. One of the truths that’s popped up for me — and more than once during therapy sessions — is that perhaps the best part is that I have lived through it all. I’m blessed just to be alive.
Life is quite a gift to have, even on the worst days. I’m here, I’m alive. I will die someday, but not today. And I’m leaning toward the likelihood of some form of life after death, perhaps being connected to the loving, creative energy that got all of us here in the first place.
It’s given me some priceless resources during hard times. That’s while going through a (second) divorce, losing a job, going through some tough challenges in other jobs, struggling at times to make a living, losing loved ones, seeing the best and worst in fellow human beings, and having to essentially alter and adjust my life.
What happened to all the achievements and recognition I thought I was supposed to have by now? That question matters a lot less to me now.
Jon LeSage is a Southern California-based freelance writer.
