The path of the soul and scientific proof of the existence of paradise. The famous neurosurgeon said that he personally saw Eben Alexander in the next world Proof of paradise

Europe

Eben Alexander

Paradise Proof. Real experience of a neurosurgeon

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Man must see things as they are, not as he wants to see them.

Albert Einstein (1879 - 1955)

When I was little, I often flew in my dreams. It usually went like this. I dreamed that I was standing in our yard at night and looking at the stars, and then suddenly I separated from the ground and slowly rose up. The first few inches of ascent into the air happened spontaneously, without any input on my part. But I soon noticed that the higher I climb, the more the flight depends on me, or rather, on my condition. If I exulted violently and got excited, then I suddenly fell down, hitting the ground hard. But if I perceived the flight calmly, as something natural, then I quickly flew higher and higher into the starry sky.

Perhaps partly as a result of these dream flights, I later developed a passionate love for airplanes and rockets—or any flying machine in general that could give me a sense of the vast expanse of air again. When I happened to fly with my parents, no matter how long the flight was, it was impossible to tear me away from the window. In September 1968, at the age of fourteen, I gave all my lawn mowing money to a gliding class given by a guy named Goose Street on Strawberry Hill, a small grassy "flying field" not far from my hometown of Winston-Salem, North Carolina. I still remember how excited my heart was pounding when I pulled the dark red round handle, which unhooked the cable connecting me to the towing aircraft, and my glider rolled onto the runway. For the first time in my life, I experienced an unforgettable feeling of complete independence and freedom. Most of my friends loved driving wildly for this, but in my opinion, nothing could compare to the thrill of flying at a thousand feet.

In the 1970s, while attending college at the University of North Carolina, I became involved in skydiving. Our team seemed to me something like a secret brotherhood - after all, we had special knowledge that was not available to everyone else. The first jumps were given to me with great difficulty, I was overcome by real fear. But by the twelfth jump, when I stepped through the door of the plane to free-fall more than a thousand feet before opening my parachute (it was my first skydive), I already felt confident. In college, I made 365 parachute jumps and flew more than three and a half hours in free fall, performing aerial acrobatic maneuvers with twenty-five comrades. Although I stopped jumping in 1976, I continued to have joyful and very vivid dreams about skydiving.

Most of all I liked to jump in the late afternoon, when the sun began to decline to the horizon. It is difficult to describe my feelings during such jumps: it seemed to me that I was getting closer and closer to that which was impossible to define, but which I passionately longed for. This mysterious "something" was not an ecstatic feeling of complete loneliness, because usually we jumped in groups of five, six, ten or twelve people, making various figures in free fall. And the more complex and difficult the figure was, the more delighted I was.

On a beautiful fall day in 1975, the guys from the University of North Carolina and a few friends from the Parachute Training Center gathered to practice group jumping with the construction of figures. On our penultimate jump from a D-18 Beechcraft light aircraft at 10,500 feet, we made a snowflake of ten people. We managed to assemble into this figure even before the 7,000 feet mark, that is, we enjoyed flying in this figure for eighteen seconds, falling into a gap between the huge masses of high clouds, after which, at an altitude of 3,500 feet, we unclenched our hands, deviated from each other and opened our parachutes.

By the time we landed, the sun was already very low, above the ground itself. But we quickly climbed into another plane and took off again, so that we managed to capture the last rays of the sun and make another jump before it was completely sunset. This time, two beginners took part in the jump, who for the first time had to try to join the figure, that is, fly up to it from the outside. Of course, it's easiest to be the main, basic skydiver, because he just needs to fly down, while the rest of the team has to maneuver in the air to get to him and grapple with him. Nevertheless, both beginners rejoiced at the difficult test, as did we, already experienced skydivers: after all, having trained young guys, later we could make jumps with even more complex figures together with them.

Of a group of six people who were to represent a star over the runway of a small airfield located near the town of Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina, I had to be the last to jump. In front of me was a guy named Chuck. He had extensive experience in aerial group acrobatics. At 7,500 feet we were still in the sun, but the streetlights were already gleaming below. I've always loved twilight jumping and this one promised to be amazing.

I had to leave the plane about a second after Chuck, and in order to catch up with the others, my fall had to be very fast. I decided to dive into the air, as if into the sea, upside down and in this position fly for the first seven seconds. This would allow me to fall almost a hundred miles an hour faster than my comrades, and be on the same level with them as soon as they began to build a star.

Usually during such jumps, having descended to a height of 3500 feet, all skydivers disengage their hands and disperse as far apart as possible. Then everyone waves their arms to signal that they are ready to open their parachute, looks up to make sure no one is above them, and only then pulls on the lanyard.

“Three, two, one… March!”

One by one, the four paratroopers left the plane, followed by Chuck and me. Flying upside down and picking up speed in free fall, I exulted that for the second time that day I saw the sunset. As I approached the team, I was about to slow down hard in the air, throwing my arms out to the sides - we had suits with wings made of fabric from the wrists to the hips, which created a powerful resistance, fully opening at high speed.

But I didn't have to.

As I plummeted towards the figure, I noticed that one of the guys was approaching it too fast. I don't know, maybe it was the rapid descent into the narrow gap between the clouds that frightened him, reminding him that he was rushing at a speed of two hundred feet per second towards a giant planet, hardly visible in the gathering darkness. Somehow, instead of slowly joining the group, he swooped down on her. And the five remaining paratroopers tumbled randomly in the air. Plus, they were too close to each other.

This guy left behind a powerful turbulent trail. This air current is very dangerous. As soon as another skydiver hits him, his fall speed will increase rapidly, and he will crash into the one who is under him. This, in turn, will give a strong acceleration to both skydivers and hurl them at the one who is even lower. In short, a terrible tragedy will happen.

Crouching, I ducked away from the tumultuously falling group and maneuvered until I was directly over the "point," the magical point on the ground over which we were to open our parachutes and begin a slow two-minute descent.

I turned my head and was relieved to see that the other jumpers were already moving away from each other. Among them was Chuck. But, to my surprise, he moved in my direction and soon hovered right under me. Apparently, during the erratic fall, the group went through 2,000 feet faster than Chuck expected. Or maybe he considered himself lucky, who may not follow the established rules.

"He must not see me!" No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than a colored pilot chute was yanked up behind Chuck. The parachute caught the one hundred and twenty miles an hour wind around Chuck and carried it toward me while retracting the main chute.

From the moment the pilot chute opened over Chuck, I had only a fraction of a second to react. In less than a second, I should have crashed into his main parachute and, most likely, into himself. If at such a speed I run into his arm or leg, then I will simply tear it off and at the same time I myself will receive a fatal blow. If we collide with bodies, we will inevitably break.

They say that in situations like this it seems like everything is happening much more slowly, and rightly so. My brain recorded what was happening, which took only a few microseconds, but perceived it as a movie in slow motion.

As the pilot chute swooped over Chuck, my arms pressed to my sides of their own accord, and I rolled over, head down, slightly arched. The curve of the body allowed for a little speed gain. In the next instant, I made a sharp horizontal dash, which turned my body into a powerful wing, allowing the bullet to blast past Chuck just before his main parachute opened.

I rushed past him at over a hundred and fifty miles an hour, or two hundred and twenty feet per second. He hardly had time to notice the expression on my face. Otherwise, he would have seen incredible astonishment in him. By some miracle, I managed in a matter of seconds to react to a situation that, if I had time to think it over, would have seemed simply unsolvable!

And yet ... And yet I managed it, and as a result, Chuck and I landed safely. I got the impression that, faced with an extreme situation, my brain worked like some kind of super-powerful calculator.

How did it happen? During my more than twenty years as a neurosurgeon—when I studied the brain, observed it at work, and performed operations on it—I often asked myself this question. And in the end I came to the conclusion that the brain is such a phenomenal organ that we don’t even know about its incredible abilities.

Now I already understand that the real answer to this question is much more complex and fundamentally different. But in order to realize this, I had to go through events that completely changed my life and worldview. This book is dedicated to these events. They proved to me that, no matter how wonderful the human brain was, it was not he who saved me on that fateful day. What interfered with the action the second Chuck's main parachute began to open was another, deeply hidden side of my personality. It was she who managed to work so instantly, because, unlike my brain and body, she exists outside of time.

However, now I believe, and from the further story you will understand why.

* * *

My profession is a neurosurgeon.

I graduated from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill in 1976 with a degree in chemistry and in 1980 received my doctorate from Duke University School of Medicine. Eleven years, including attending Medical School, then a residency at Duke, as well as work at the Massachusetts General Hospital and at Harvard Medical School, I specialized in neuroendocrinology, studying the interaction between the nervous system and the endocrine system, which consists of glands that produce various hormones and regulate activity. organism. For two years of those eleven years, I studied the abnormal reaction of blood vessels in certain areas of the brain when an aneurysm ruptured, a syndrome known as cerebral vasospasm.

After completing my postgraduate studies in cerebrovascular neurosurgery in Newcastle upon Tyne, UK, I taught for fifteen years at Harvard Medical School as an Associate Professor of Neurology. Over the years, I have operated on a huge number of patients, many of whom came with extremely severe and life-threatening brain diseases.

I paid a lot of attention to the study of advanced methods of treatment, in particular stereotactic radiosurgery, which allows the surgeon to locally influence a certain point in the brain with radiation beams without affecting the surrounding tissues. I took part in the development and use of magnetic resonance imaging, which is one of the modern methods for studying brain tumors and various disorders of its vascular system. During these years I have written, alone or in co-authorship with other scientists, more than one hundred and fifty articles for major medical journals and presented more than two hundred times on my work at medical scientific conferences around the world.

In short, I devoted myself entirely to science. I consider it a great life success that I managed to find my vocation - by learning the mechanism of the functioning of the human body, especially its brain, to heal people using the achievements of modern medicine. But just as important, I married a wonderful woman who gave me two beautiful sons, and although the work took up quite a lot of my time, I never forgot about the family, which I always considered another blessed gift of fate. In a word, my life developed very successfully and happily.

However, on November 10, 2008, when I was fifty-four, my luck seemed to change. As a result of a very rare disease, I plunged into a coma for seven whole days. All this time, my neocortex - the new cortex, that is, the upper layer of the cerebral hemispheres, which, in essence, makes us human - was turned off, did not work, practically did not exist.

When a person's brain is turned off, he also ceases to exist. In my specialty, I have heard many stories of people who have experienced unusual experiences, usually after cardiac arrest: they allegedly found themselves in some mysterious and beautiful place, talked with dead relatives, and even saw the Lord God himself.

All these stories, of course, were very interesting, but, in my opinion, they were fantasies, pure fiction. What causes these “otherworldly” experiences that near-death survivors talk about? I did not state anything, but deep down I was sure that they were associated with some kind of disturbance in the brain. All our experiences and ideas originate in consciousness. If the brain is paralyzed, disabled, you cannot be conscious.

Because the brain is a mechanism that primarily produces consciousness. The destruction of this mechanism means the death of consciousness. For all the incredibly complex and mysterious functioning of the brain, it's as simple as two and two. Unplug the power cord and the TV will stop working. And the show ends, however you like it. That's pretty much what I would have said before my own brain shut down.

During the coma, my brain didn't work wrong, it didn't work at all. I now think that it was the completely non-functioning brain that brought about the depth and intensity of the near-death experience (ACD) I had during my coma. Most stories about ACS come from people who have experienced temporary cardiac arrest. In these cases, the neocortex also temporarily shuts down, but does not undergo permanent damage - if no later than four minutes later, the supply of oxygenated blood to the brain is restored using cardiopulmonary resuscitation or due to spontaneous restoration of cardiac activity. But in my case, the neocortex showed no signs of life! I faced the reality of the world of consciousness that existed completely independent of my dormant brain.

Personal experience of clinical death was a real explosion for me, a shock. As a neurosurgeon with a long history of scientific and practical work, I was better than others not only able to correctly assess the reality of what I had experienced, but also draw appropriate conclusions.

These findings are incredibly important. My experience has shown me that the death of the body and the brain does not mean the death of consciousness, that human life continues after the burial of his material body. But most importantly, it continues under the gaze of God, who loves us all and cares for each of us and for the world where the universe itself and everything in it ultimately goes.

The world I found myself in was real—so real that compared to this world, the life we lead here and now is completely ghostly. However, this does not mean that I do not value my current life. On the contrary, I appreciate it even more than before. Because now I understand its true meaning.

Life is not something meaningless. But from here we are not able to understand it, in any case, not always. The story of what happened to me during my stay in a coma is filled with the deepest meaning. But it is rather difficult to talk about it, since it is too alien to our usual ideas. I can't shout about it to the whole world. However, my conclusions are based on medical analysis and knowledge of the most advanced concepts in the science of the brain and consciousness. Realizing the truth behind my journey, I realized that I simply had to tell about it. To do this in the most dignified manner has become my main task.

This does not mean that I left the scientific and practical activities of a neurosurgeon. It’s just that now, when I have the honor to understand that our life does not end with the death of the body and brain, I consider it my duty, my calling to tell people about what I saw outside my body and this world. It seems to me especially important to do this for those who have heard stories about cases like mine and would like to believe them, but something prevents these people from completely accepting them on faith.

My book and the spiritual message contained in it is addressed primarily to them. My story is incredibly important and completely true.

Lynchburg, Virginia

I woke up and opened my eyes. In the darkness of the bedroom, I peered at the red digits of the digital clock - 4:30 in the morning - which is an hour earlier than I usually get up, given that I have a ten hour drive from our home in Lynchburg to my place of work - the Specialized Foundation for Ultrasound Surgery in Charlottesville. Holly's wife continued to sleep soundly.

For about twenty years I worked as a neurosurgeon in the big city of Boston, but in 2006 I moved with the whole family to the mountainous part of Virginia. Holly and I met in October 1977, two years after we graduated from college at the same time. She was preparing for a master's degree in fine arts, I was in medical school. She dated my former roommate Vic a couple of times. Once he brought her to introduce us, probably wanted to show off. As they were leaving, I invited Holly to come in anytime, adding that it didn't have to be with Vic.

On our first real date, we drove to a party in Charlotte, North Carolina, a two and a half hour drive there and back. Holly had laryngitis, so I did most of the talking during the journey. We married in June 1980 at St. Thomas' Episcopal Church in Windsor, North Carolina, and shortly thereafter moved to Durham, where we rented an apartment in the Royal Oaks house, since I was a surgical fellow at Duke University.

Our house was far from royal, and I didn’t notice anything about oaks either. We had very little money, but we were so busy—and so happy—that we didn't care. On one of our first vacations, which fell in the spring, we loaded a tent into the car and set off on a drive along the Atlantic coast of North Carolina. In the spring, in those places, any biting midges are apparently invisible, and the tent was not a very reliable refuge from its formidable hordes. But we still had fun and interesting. One day, while sailing off Ocracoke Island, I devised a way to catch blue crabs that were running away in a hurry, frightened of my feet. We took a big bag of crabs to the Pony Island Motel where our friends were staying and grilled them. There was enough food for everyone. Despite austerity, we soon found that the money was running out. During this time we were visiting our close friends Bill and Patty Wilson and they invited us to play bingo. Bill went to the club on Thursdays every summer for ten years, but he never won. And Holly played for the first time. Call it rookie luck or providence, but she won two hundred dollars, which to us was the equivalent of two thousand. This money allowed us to continue the journey.

In 1980, I got my MD and Holly got her degree and went on to work as an artist and teach. In 1981, I performed my first solo brain surgery at Duke. Our first child, Eben IV, was born in 1987 at the Princess Mary's Maternity Hospital in Newcastle upon Tyne in Northern England, where I was engaged in graduate school in the problems of cerebral circulation. And the youngest son Bond - in 1988 at the Brigham Women's Hospital in Boston.

I fondly remember the fifteen years I worked at Harvard Medical School and at Brigham Women's Hospital. Our family generally appreciates the time we lived in the Greater Boston area. But in 2005, Holly and I decided it was time to move back south. We wanted to live closer to our parents, and I also saw the move as an opportunity to become more independent than I had at Harvard. And in the spring of 2006, we started new life in Lynchburg, located in the highlands of Virginia. It was a calm and measured life, to which both I and Holly were accustomed from childhood.

* * *

I lay quietly for a while, trying to figure out what had woken me up. The day before, on Sunday, the weather was typical of a Virginian autumn - sunny, clear and cool. Holly and I and ten-year-old Bond went to the neighbors' barbecues. In the evening we talked on the phone with Eben (he was already twenty), who was a freshman at the University of Delaware. The only small annoyance of the day was that all of us had not yet recovered from a mild respiratory infection that we picked up somewhere last week. By evening, my back hurt, and I warmed up a little in a warm bath, after which the pain seemed to subside. I wondered if I could not wake up so early from the fact that this unfortunate infection still roams in me.

I moved slightly, and pain shot through my back, much more severe than the night before. Definitely, the virus made itself felt. The more I came to my senses from sleep, the more the pain became. I could not sleep again, and there was still an hour before I left for work, so I decided to take a warm bath again. I sat down, put my feet on the floor and stood up.

And immediately the pain dealt me another blow - I felt a dull painful pulsation at the base of the spine. Deciding not to wake Holly, I walked slowly down the hallway to the bathroom, confident that the warmth would immediately make me feel better. But I was wrong. The tub was only half full, and I already knew I had made a mistake. The pain got so bad that I wondered if I should call Holly to help me get out of the tub.

How ridiculous! I reached out and grabbed a towel that was hanging on a hanger right above me. Sliding it closer to the wall so as not to tear off the hanger, I began to carefully pull myself up.

And again I was pierced by such severe pain that I suffocated. It certainly wasn't the flu. But then what? Somehow getting out of the slippery bath, I put on a terry bathrobe, barely dragged myself to the bedroom and fell on the bed. My whole body was wet with cold sweat.

Even more than getting sick, doctors do not like to be in the role of a patient. I immediately imagined a house full of emergency doctors, standard questions, being sent to the hospital, paperwork… I thought that I would soon get better and regret that we called an ambulance.

"Don't worry, it's okay," I said. I'm in pain right now, but it should get better soon. You better help Bond get ready for school.

“Eben, I still think…”

"It'll be all right," I interrupted her, hiding my face in the pillow. I still couldn't move because of the pain. Seriously, don't call. I'm not that sick. Just a muscle spasm in my lower back and a headache.

Holly reluctantly left me, went downstairs with Bond, fed him breakfast, and then sent me to the bus stop where the boys were picked up by the school bus. When Bond was leaving the house, I suddenly thought that if I have something serious and I still end up in the hospital, I won’t see him today. I gathered all my strength and shouted:

“Bond, good luck with your school!”

When my wife went up to the bedroom to see how I was feeling, I lay unconscious. Thinking that I had fallen asleep, she left me to rest, went downstairs and called one of my colleagues, hoping to find out from him what could have happened to me.

After two hours, Holly thought I had had enough rest and came up to me again. Opening the bedroom door, she saw that I was lying in the same position, but, coming closer, she noticed that my body was not relaxed, as usual in a dream, but tensely stretched. She turned on the light and saw that I was shaking with a severe cramp, my lower jaw was unnaturally protruding, and my eyes were rolled open so that only whites were visible.

"Eben, say something!" she screamed.

I didn't answer and she called 911. The ambulance was there in ten minutes. I was quickly transferred to a car and driven to Lynchburg General Hospital.

If I had been conscious, I would have explained to Holly exactly what I suffered during those terrible minutes while she was waiting for an ambulance. It was an epileptic seizure, no doubt caused by some incredibly powerful effect on the brain. But, obviously, I couldn't do it.

For the next seven days, my wife and other relatives saw only my motionless body. What happened around me, I have to reconstruct from the stories of others. During the coma, my soul, my spirit—call it what you will, that part of my personality that makes me human—was dead.

Prologue

Man must see things as they are, not as he wants to see them.

Albert Einstein (1879 - 1955)

Although I stopped jumping in 1976, I continued to have joyful and very vivid dreams about skydiving.

“Three, two, one… March!”

But I didn't have to.

And yet ... And yet I managed it, and as a result, Chuck and I landed safely. I got the impression that, faced with an extreme situation, my brain worked like some kind of super-powerful calculator.

It was she who made me, the boy, so rush into the sky. This is not only the most developed and wise side of our personality, but also the deepest, innermost. However, for most of my adult life, I did not believe in this.

However, now I believe, and from the further story you will understand why.

* * *

My profession is a neurosurgeon.

My book and the spiritual message contained in it is addressed primarily to them. My story is incredibly important and completely true.

Chapter 1
Pain

Lynchburg, Virginia

Since I trained in surgery at Duke University.

In 1980, I got my MD and Holly got her degree and went on to work as an artist and teach. In 1981, I performed my first solo brain surgery at Duke. Our first child, Eben IV, was born in 1987 at the Princess Mary's Maternity Hospital in Newcastle upon Tyne in Northern England, where I did postgraduate studies in cerebrovascular disease. And the youngest son Bond - in 1988 at the Brigham Women's Hospital in Boston.

Dr. Eben Alexander, a neurosurgeon with 25 years of experience, a professor who taught at Harvard Medical School and other major American universities, shared with readers his impressions of his journey into the other world.

This case is truly unique. Struck by a severe form of bacterial meningitis, he inexplicably recovered from a seven-day coma. A highly educated physician with vast practical experience, who before not only did not believe in an afterlife, but also did not allow the thought of it, experienced the transfer of his “I” to the higher worlds and encountered there such amazing phenomena and revelations that, returning to earthly life , considered it his duty as a scientist and healer to tell the whole world about them.

On November 10, 2008, as a result of a very rare illness, I fell into a coma for seven whole days. All this time, my neocortex - the new cortex, that is, the upper layer of the cerebral hemispheres, which, in essence, makes us human - was turned off, did not function, practically did not exist.

During the coma, my brain didn't work wrong, it didn't work at all. I now think that it was the completely non-functioning brain that brought about the depth and intensity of the near-death experience (ACD) I had during my coma. Most stories about ACS come from people who have experienced temporary cardiac arrest. In these cases, the neocortex also temporarily shuts down, but does not undergo permanent damage - in the event that no later than four minutes later, the supply of oxygenated blood to the brain is restored using cardiopulmonary resuscitation or due to spontaneous restoration of cardiac activity. But in my case, the neocortex showed no signs of life! I was confronted with the reality of a world of consciousness that existed completely independently of my dormant brain.

The world where I found myself was real - so real that compared to this world, the life we lead here and now is completely ghostly. However, this does not mean that I do not value my current life. On the contrary, I appreciate it even more than before. Because now I understand its true meaning.

Darkness, but visible darkness - as if you are immersed in mud, but you see through it. Yes, perhaps this darkness is better compared to thick jelly-like mud. Transparent, but cloudy, vague, suffocating and claustrophobic.

Consciousness, but without memory and without a sense of oneself - like a dream, when you understand what is happening around you, but you do not know who you are.

And another sound: a low rhythmic thud, distant but strong enough to feel every beat. Heartbeat? Yes, it seems, but the sound is more deaf, more mechanical - it reminds of the sound of metal on metal, as if somewhere far away some giant, an underground blacksmith hits an anvil with a hammer: the blows are so powerful that they cause vibration of the earth, dirt or some incomprehensible substance in which I was.

I didn't have a body - at least I didn't feel it. I just…was there, in this pulsing and rhythmically permeated darkness. At that time, I could call it the primordial darkness. But then I did not know these words. In fact, I didn't know the words at all. The words used here came much later, when I returned to this world and wrote down my memories. Language, emotions, the ability to reason - all this was lost, as if I had been thrown far back, to the starting point of the origin of life, when a primitive bacterium had already appeared, which in an unknown way captured my brain and paralyzed its work.

How long have I been in this world? I have no idea. It is almost impossible to describe the feeling that you experience when you get to a place where there is no sense of time. When I later got there, I understood that I (whatever this “I” was) had always been and would be there.

I didn't mind it. And why would I mind if this existence was the only one I knew? Not remembering anything better, I was not very interested in exactly where I was. I remember I wondered if I would survive or not, but indifference to the outcome only increased the feeling of my own invulnerability. I did not know the principles of the world in which I was, but I was in no hurry to learn them. Who cares?

I can’t say exactly when it started, but at some point I became aware of some objects around me. They looked like both plant roots and blood vessels in an incredibly huge, dirty womb. Glowing with a muddy red light, they stretched from somewhere far above somewhere far down. Now I can compare this to how a mole or an earthworm, deep underground, could somehow see the intertwined roots of grasses and trees around him.

That is why, when I recalled this place later, I decided to call it the Habitat as Worm sees it (or, for short, Worm Country). For a long time, I assumed that the image of this place could be inspired by some memory of the state of my brain, which had just been attacked by a dangerous and aggressive bacterium.

But the more I thought about this explanation (I remind you that it was much later), the less sense I saw in it. Because - how difficult it is to describe all this if you yourself have not been to this place! - when I was there, my consciousness was not clouded or distorted. It was simple. limited. I wasn't human there. But he was not an animal either. I was a being earlier and more primitive than animal or man. I was just a lonely spark of consciousness in a timeless red-brown space.

The longer I stayed there, the more uncomfortable I became. At first, I was so deeply immersed in this visible darkness that I did not feel the difference between me and this both vile and familiar matter surrounding me. But gradually the feeling of a deep, timeless and limitless immersion gave way to a new feeling: that in fact I was not part of this underworld at all, but simply somehow got into it.

From this abomination, the muzzles of terrible animals emerged like bubbles, uttered a howl and squeal, then disappeared. I heard an intermittent low growl. Sometimes this growl turned into vague rhythmic chants, both frightening and strangely familiar - as if at some point I myself knew and hummed them.

Since I did not remember my previous existence, my stay in this country seemed endless. How long did I spend there? Months? Years? Eternity? One way or another, finally, the moment came when my former indifferent carelessness was completely swept away by chilling horror. The more clearly I felt myself - as something isolated from the cold, dampness and darkness surrounding me - the more disgusting and terrible seemed to me the animal muzzles emerging from this darkness. Muffled by the distance, the steady thumping became sharper and louder, resembling the labor rhythm of some army of underground worker trolls, performing endless, unbearably monotonous work. The movement around me became more noticeable and tangible, as if snakes or other worm-like creatures were making their way past me in a dense group, sometimes touching me with smooth skin or like hedgehog thorns.

Then I smelled a stench that mixed the smells of excrement, blood, and vomit. In other words, the smell of biological origin, but of a dead, not a living being. As my consciousness became more and more aggravated, I was seized more and more by fear, panic horror. I didn't know who or what I was, but this place was disgusting and alien to me. It was necessary to get out of there.

Before I had time to ask this question, something new appeared from above out of the darkness: it was neither cold, nor dead, nor dark, but was the complete opposite of all these qualities. Even if I spent the rest of my days on this, I could not do justice to the entity that was now approaching me, and even partially describe how beautiful it was.

But I keep trying.

Something appeared in the darkness.

Slowly rotating, it emitted the thinnest rays of golden-white light, and gradually the darkness surrounding me began to split and disintegrate.

Then I heard a new sound: the live sound of beautiful music, saturated with richness of tones and shades. As this clear white light descended on me, the music grew louder and drowned out the monotonous thud that seemed to be the only thing I heard here for an eternity.

The light came closer and closer, as if revolving around an invisible center and spreading around tufts and threads of pure white radiance, which, now I clearly saw, gleamed with gold.

Then something else appeared in the very center of the radiance. I strained my mind, trying my best to figure out what it was.

Hole! Now I looked not at the slowly rotating glow, but through it. As soon as I realized this, I began to rapidly climb up.

There was a whistle, reminiscent of the whistle of the wind, and in a moment I flew out into this hole and found myself in a completely different world. I have never seen anything more strange and at the same time more beautiful.

Radiant, quivering, full of life, stunning, causing selfless delight. I could pile up definitions ad infinitum to describe what this world looked like, but there are simply not enough of them in our language. I felt like I had just been born. Not reborn and not reborn, but first born.

Beneath me was an area covered with dense, luxuriant vegetation that looked like Earth. It was the Earth, but at the same time it was not. The feeling can be compared to that, as if your parents brought you to some place where you lived for several years in early childhood. You don't know this place. At least that's what you think. But, looking around, you feel how something attracts you, and you understand that the memory of this place is stored in the very depths of your soul, you remember it and rejoice that you are here again.

I flew over forests and fields, rivers and waterfalls, from time to time noticing people below and merrily playing children. People sang and danced, sometimes I saw dogs next to them, who also happily ran and jumped. People were wearing simple but beautiful clothes, and it seemed to me that the colors of these clothes were as warm and bright as the grass and flowers that dot the whole area.

Beautiful, incredible ghostly world.

But only this world was not ghostly. Although I did not know where I was and even who I was, I felt absolute certainty in one thing: the world in which I suddenly found myself was completely real, real.

I can't say exactly how long I flew. (Time in this place is different from the simple linear time we have on Earth, and it is hopeless to try to convey it clearly.) But at some point I realized that I was not alone in the sky.

Next to me was a beautiful girl with high cheekbones and dark blue eyes. She was dressed in the same simple and loose dress that the people below wore. Her sweet face was framed by golden brown hair. We were flying in the air on some kind of plane, painted with an intricate pattern, shining with indescribably bright colors - it was the wing of a butterfly. In general, millions of butterflies fluttered around us - they formed wide waves that crashed into green meadows and soared up again. The butterflies held together and seemed like a vibrant and vibrant river of flowers flowing through the air. We slowly soared in height, flowering meadows and green forests floated under us, and when we descended to them, buds opened on the branches. The dress on the girl was simple, but its colors - light blue, indigo, light orange and delicate peach - gave rise to the same exultant and joyful mood as the whole area. The girl looked at me. She had a look that, if you see it for just a few seconds, gives meaning to your entire life up to the present moment, regardless of what happened in it before. This look was not just romantic or friendly. In some mysterious way, something immeasurably surpassed all kinds of love that are familiar to us in our mortal world. He simultaneously radiated all varieties of earthly love - maternal, sisterly, conjugal, daughter, friendly - and at the same time love infinitely deeper and more chaste.

The girl spoke to me without words. Her thoughts penetrated me like an air stream, and I instantly understood their sincerity and truthfulness. I knew this exactly as I knew that the world around me was real, and not at all imaginary, elusive and transient.

Everything “said” could be divided into three parts, and translated into our earthly language, I would express its meaning approximately in the following sentences:

"You are forever loved and protected."

"You have nothing to fear."

"There is nothing you could do wrong."

From this message, I experienced a feeling of incredible relief. It was as if I had been handed a list of the rules of a game I had played all my life without fully understanding them.

We will show you a lot of interesting things here, - the girl said, not resorting to words, but sending me their meaning directly. But then you'll come back.

I only have one question for this:

Where back?

Remember who is talking to you now. Believe me, I do not suffer from dementia and excessive sentimentality. I know what death looks like. I know human nature and, although not a materialist, I am a fairly decent specialist in my field. I am able to distinguish fantasy from reality, and I know that the experience that I am now trying to convey to you, however, rather vaguely and confusedly, was not only special, but also the most real experience in my life.

Meanwhile, I was in the clouds. Huge, lush, pinkish-white clouds that stood out brightly against the dark blue sky.

Above the clouds, in an incredible celestial height, creatures glided in the form of transparent shimmering balls, leaving behind traces like a long train.

Birds? Angels? These words come to my mind now as I write down my memories. However, not a single word from our earthly language can convey the correct idea of these creatures, they were so different from everything that I know. They were more perfect, higher beings.

From above came rolling and resonant sounds, reminiscent of choral singing, and I wondered if these winged creatures were making them. Reflecting on this phenomenon later, I suggested that the joy of these creatures soaring in the heavenly heights was so great that they should have made these sounds - if they did not express their joy in this way, they simply could not contain it. The sounds were tangible and almost tangible, like raindrops brushing against your skin.

In this place where I now found myself, hearing and sight did not exist separately. I heard the visible beauty of those sparkling silver creatures above and saw the thrillingly beautiful perfection of their joyous songs. It seemed that here it was simply impossible to perceive anything with hearing and sight without merging with it in some mysterious way.

And I emphasize once again that now, looking back, I would say that in that world it was really impossible to look at anything, because the very preposition “on” implies a look from the outside, some distance from the object of observation, which was not there . Everything was perfectly distinct and yet part of something else, like a swirl in the colorful weave of a Persian rug, or a tiny stroke in the pattern of a butterfly's wing.

There was a warm breeze that gently ripples the leaves of the trees on a beautiful summer day and is deliciously refreshing. Divine breeze.

I began to mentally question this breeze - and the divine being that I felt was behind it all or was inside it.

"Where is this place?"

"Why am I here?"

Every time I silently asked a question, it was immediately answered in the form of flashes of light, color, love and beauty that rippled through me. And here's what's important: these outbursts didn't drown out my questions by absorbing them. They answered them, but without words. I perceived these thought-answers directly, with my whole being. But they were different than our earthly thoughts. These thoughts were tangible - hotter than fire and wetter than water - and were transmitted to me in an instant, and I perceived them just as quickly and effortlessly. On Earth, it would take me years to understand them.

I continued to move forward and found myself in a boundless void, absolutely dark, but at the same time surprisingly comfortable and peaceful.

In complete darkness, it was full of light, radiating, it seemed, from a radiant ball, whose presence I felt somewhere nearby. The ball was alive and almost as tangible as the singing of the angelic beings. My position strangely resembled that of an embryo in the womb. The fetus in the womb has a silent partner, the placenta, which nourishes it and mediates its relationship with the omnipresent and yet invisible mother. In this case, the mother was God, the Creator, the Divine Beginning - call it what you want, the Supreme Being who created the Universe and everything that exists in it. This Being was so close that I almost felt myself merged with Him. And at the same time, I felt Him as something vast and all-encompassing, I saw how insignificant and small I am in comparison with Him. In the following, I will often use the word "Om" and not the pronouns "He", "She" or "It" to refer to God, Allah, Jehovah, Brahma, Vishnu, the Creator and the Divine Principle. Om - so I called God in my initial notes after the coma; "Om" is a word that in my memory was associated with God. The omniscient, omnipotent and unconditionally loving Om has no gender, and not a single epithet can convey His essence.

The very incomprehensible immensity that distinguishes me from Om, as I understood, was the reason that Shar was given to me as a companion. Not being able to fully comprehend it, I was nevertheless sure that Shar served as a "translator", "intermediary" between me and this extraordinary entity that surrounds me. As if I was born in a world immeasurably larger than ours, and the Universe itself was a giant cosmic womb, and the Ball (which somehow remained connected with the Girl on the Butterfly's Wing and who actually was her) guided me in this process.

I kept asking and getting answers. Although the responses were perceived by me not in words, the "voice" of the Being was gentle and - I understand, this may seem strange - reflecting His Personality. It perfectly understood people and possessed their inherent qualities, but on an immeasurably larger scale. It knew me thoroughly and was filled with feelings that, in my imagination, were always associated only with people: in It there was cordiality, sympathy, understanding, sadness, and even irony and humor.

With the help of the Ball, Om told me that there is not one, but an incomprehensible multitude of universes, but each of them is based on love. Evil is present in all universes, but only in small quantities. Evil is necessary, because without it the manifestation of a person's free will is impossible, and without free will there can be no development - there can be no forward movement, without which we cannot become what God wants us to be.

No matter how terrifying and omnipotent evil may seem in a world like ours, in the picture of the cosmic world, love has crushing power and, in the end, triumphs.

I saw an abundance of life forms in these innumerable universes, including those whose intellect was much more advanced than that of man. I saw that their scales incredibly exceed the scales of our Universe, but the only possible way to know these quantities is to penetrate one of them and feel them for yourself. From a smaller space, they can neither be known nor comprehended. In these higher worlds, there are also causes and effects, but they are beyond our earthly understanding. The time and space of our earthly world in the higher worlds are connected with each other by an inseparable and incomprehensible connection for us. In other words, these worlds are not completely alien to us, since they are part of the same all-encompassing divine Essence. From the higher worlds one can get to any time and place of our world.

It will take my whole life, if not more, to make sense of what I have learned. The knowledge given to me was not taught as in a history or mathematics lesson. Their perception happened directly, they did not need to be memorized and memorized. Knowledge was assimilated instantly and forever. They are not lost, as is the case with ordinary information, and I still fully own this knowledge - in contrast to the information received at school.

But this does not mean that I can apply this knowledge with the same ease. After all, now, having returned to our world, I have to pass them through my material brain with its limited capabilities. But they remain with me, I feel their inalienability. For someone who, like me, has been diligently accumulating knowledge in the traditional way all his life, the discovery of such a high level of learning provides food for thought for ages.

Something pulled me. Not as if someone grabbed the hand, but more weakly, less tangibly. It could be compared to how the mood immediately changes when the sun disappears behind a cloud. I was coming back, flying away from the Center. Its radiant black darkness was quietly replaced by the green landscape of the Gate. Looking down, I again saw people, trees, sparkling rivers and waterfalls, and above me, beings like angels were still hovering in the sky.

And my companion was there too. She, of course, was there during my journey to the Focus, taking the form of a Ball of Light. But now she has again acquired the image of a girl. She was wearing her former beautiful clothes, and when I saw her, I experienced the same joy that a child feels lost in a huge foreign city when he suddenly sees a familiar face.

We will show you a lot, but then you will come back.

This message, wordlessly inspired to me at the entrance to the inscrutable darkness of the Center, I remembered now. Now I already understood what "back" means.

This is the Country of the Worm, from where my odyssey began.

But this time it was different. Descending into the gloomy darkness and already knowing what was above it, I felt no anxiety.

As the splendid music of the Gates subsided, giving way to the pulsing beats of the lower world, I perceived with hearing and sight all its phenomena. So an adult sees a place where he once experienced unspeakable horror, but now he is no longer afraid. Gloomy darkness, emerging and disappearing animal muzzles, roots descending from above, intertwined like arteries, no longer inspired fear, since I understood - I understood without words - that I did not belong to this world, but simply visited it.

But why am I here again?

The answer came as instantly and silently as in the upper, shining world. This adventure was a kind of excursion, a great overview of the invisible, spiritual side of existence. And like any good excursion, it included all floors and levels.

When I returned to the lower realm, the peculiar flow of time there continued. A faint, very distant idea of it can be formed by remembering the feeling of time in a dream. Indeed, in a dream it is very difficult to determine what happens “before” and what happens “after”. You can dream and know what will happen next, although you have not yet experienced it. The "time" of the lower realm is something like that, although I must emphasize that what happened to me had nothing to do with the confusion of earthly dreams.

How long was I in "hell" this time? I have no exact idea - there is no way to measure this period of time. But I know for sure that after returning to the lower world, for quite a long time I could not understand that I was now able to direct the direction of my movement - that I was no longer a prisoner of the lower world. By concentrating my efforts, I could return to the upper realms. At some point in the dark depths, I really wanted to return the Flowing Melody. After trying several times to remember the melody and the spinning Ball of Light emitting it, beautiful music began to play in my mind. Enchanting sounds pierced the gelatinous darkness, and I began to rise.

So I discovered that in order to move to the upper world, it is enough just to know something and think about it.

The thought of the Flowing Melody caused it to sound and fulfilled the desire to be in the higher world. The more I knew about the higher world, the easier it was for me to be there again. During the time that I spent out of the body, I developed the ability to move freely back and forth, from the muddy darkness of the Land of the Worm to the emerald radiance of the Gate and into the black but radiant darkness of the Center. How many times I have made such movements, I cannot say - again, because of the mismatch in the sense of time there and here, on Earth. But each time I reached the Center, I moved deeper than before, and learned more and more - without words - the interconnectedness of everything that exists in the higher worlds.

This does not mean that I saw something like the whole Universe, traveling from the Land of the Worm to the Center. Most importantly, every time I returned to the Center, I learned a very important lesson - the incomprehensibility of everything that exists - neither its physical, that is, visible, side, nor the spiritual, that is, invisible (which is immeasurably greater than the physical), not to mention the infinite number of other universes, that exist or have ever existed.

But all this did not matter, because I already knew the only important truth. The first time I received this knowledge was from a beautiful companion on the wing of a butterfly on my first appearance at the Gate. This knowledge was imparted to me by three silent phrases:

"You are loved and protected."

"You have nothing to fear."

"You can't do anything wrong."

If we express them in one sentence, we get:

"You are loved."

And if you reduce this sentence to one word, then it turns out, of course:

"Love".

Undoubtedly, love is the basis of everything. Not some abstract, incredible, ghostly love, but the most ordinary, familiar to all love - the same love with which we look at our wife and children and even at our pets. In its purest and most powerful form, this love is not jealous, not selfish, but unconditional and absolute. This is the most primordial, incomprehensibly blissful truth that lives and breathes in the heart of everything that exists and will exist. And a person who does not know this love and does not put it into all his actions is not able to even remotely understand who he is and why he lives.

Say, not a very scientific approach? Sorry, but I don't agree with you. Nothing can convince me that this is not only the single most important truth in the entire universe, but also the single most important scientific fact.

For several years now, I have been meeting and talking with those who study or have themselves experienced near-death experience. And I know that among them the concept of "unconditional, absolute love" is very common. How many people are able to understand what this really means?

Why is this concept used so often? Because a lot of people have seen and experienced what I am. But, like me, upon their return to our earthly world, they lacked words, namely words, to convey the feeling that words simply cannot express. It's like trying to write a novel using only part of the alphabet.

The main difficulty that most of these people face is not to adjust again to the limitations of earthly existence - although this is difficult enough - but that it is incredibly difficult to convey what the love that they knew there really is, upstairs.

Deep down, we already know it. As Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz can always return home, we have the opportunity to reconnect with this idyllic world. We simply do not remember this, because in the phase of our physical existence, the brain blocks, hides the boundless cosmic world to which we belong, like light in the morning rising sun outshine the stars. Imagine how limited our understanding of the universe would be if we never saw a star-studded night sky.

We only see what the filtering brain allows us to see. The brain - especially its left hemisphere, which is responsible for logical thinking and language skills, generating a sense of common sense and a clear sense of self - is a barrier to higher knowledge and experience.

I am sure that we are now at a critical moment in our existence. It is necessary to recover much of this essential knowledge hidden from us while we live on Earth, while our brain (including the left, analytical hemisphere) is fully functioning. The science to which I devoted so many years of my life does not contradict what I learned up there. But too many people still don't think so, because members of the scientific community, who have become hostages of the materialistic view, stubbornly insist that science and spirituality cannot coexist.

They are delusional. That is why I am writing this book. It is necessary to inform the people of an ancient but highly important truth. Compared to it, all other episodes of my story are secondary - I mean the mystery of the disease, how I retained consciousness in another dimension during a week-long coma, and how I managed to recover and fully restore all brain functions.

The first time I found myself in the Land of the Worm, I did not realize myself, did not know who I was, what I was, and even whether I existed at all. I am there - this is a tiny point of consciousness in a viscous, black and muddy something that seemed to have neither end nor beginning.

However, later I realized myself, I understood that I belonged to God and that nothing - absolutely nothing - could take it away from me. The fear (false) that we might somehow be separated from God is the cause of all and every fear in the Universe, and the cure for them - received by me initially in the Gate and finally in the Center - was a clear, confident understanding that nothing and never cannot separate us from God. This knowledge - it remains the only important fact that I have ever learned - robbed the Land of the Worm of horror and made it possible to see it for what it was: not a very pleasant, but a necessary part of the universe.

Many, like me, have been in the higher world, but most of them, being out of the earthly body, remembered who they were. They knew their name and did not forget that they live on Earth. They realized that their relatives were waiting for their return. Many more met dead friends and relatives there, and they immediately recognized them.

Survivors of clinical death said that they saw pictures of their lives in front of them, they saw good and bad deeds that they committed during their lives.

I have not experienced anything like this, and if you analyze all these stories, it becomes clear that my case of clinical death is unusual. I was completely independent of my earthly body and personality, which is contrary to the typical phenomena of clinical death.

I realize that to say that I didn't know who I was or where I came from is a little strange. After all, how could I recognize all these incredibly complex and beautiful things, how could I see a girl next to me, flowering trees, waterfalls and villages, and at the same time not realize that it was I, Eben Alexander, who experienced all this? How could I understand all this, but not remember that on Earth I was a doctor, a doctor, had a wife and children? A man who has seen trees, rivers, and clouds not for the first time in the Gateway, but many times since childhood growing up in a very concrete and earthly place, in the city of Winston-Salem, North Carolina.

The best explanation I can offer is that I was in a state of partial but benign amnesia. That is, I forgot some important facts about myself, but only benefited from this short-lived forgetfulness.

What did I gain from the fact that I forgot my earthly self? This allowed me to completely and completely penetrate the worlds that lie outside our world, and not worry about what was left behind. All the time of my stay in other worlds, I was a soul with nothing to lose. I did not yearn for my homeland, I did not mourn for the lost people. I came from nowhere and had no past, so I took the circumstances in which I found myself with complete calmness - even the originally gloomy and disgusting Land of the Worm.

And because I completely forgot my mortal identity, I was given full access to the real cosmic soul, which I really am, like all of us. Once again I will say that in a sense, my experience can be compared with a dream, in which you remember something about yourself, but completely forget something. And yet this analogy is only partly true, because - I never tire of reminding - both the Gate and the Center were not in the least imaginary, illusory, but, on the contrary, extremely real, truly existing. It seems that my lack of memory of earthly life during my stay in the higher worlds was deliberate. Exactly. At the risk of oversimplifying the problem, I will say: I was allowed to die, as it were, more completely and irrevocably and to penetrate into another reality deeper than most patients who have undergone clinical death.

Reading the vast literature on the near-death experience proved to be very important in understanding my journey during the coma. I don’t want to seem somehow special and self-confident, but I will say that my experience was really peculiar and specific, and thanks to it now, three years later, after reading mountains of literature, I know for sure that penetration into the higher worlds is a gradual process and requires that the man was freed from all the attachments he had before.

It was easy for me to do this, because I did not have any earthly memories, and the only time I experienced pain and longing was when I had to return to Earth, from where I began my journey.

Most modern scientists are of the opinion that human consciousness is digital information, that is, almost the same kind of information that a computer processes. While some of this information—for example, seeing a beautiful sunset, listening to a beautiful symphony, even love—may seem very serious and special to us compared to the countless other bits stored in our brains, it is actually an illusion. Qualitatively, all particles are the same. Our brain shapes our external reality by processing the information it receives from our senses and transforming it into a rich digital carpet. But our sensations are just a model of reality, not reality itself. Illusion.

Of course, I also adhered to this point of view. I remember hearing arguments in medical school that the mind is nothing but a very complex computer program. The debaters argued that ten billion neurons in the brain, in constant arousal, are capable of providing consciousness and memory throughout a person's life.

To understand how the brain can block our access to knowledge about the higher worlds, we must admit - at least hypothetically - that the brain itself does not produce consciousness. That, rather, it is a kind of safety valve or lever, for the duration of our earthly life, switching the high, "non-physical" consciousness, which we have in non-physical worlds, to a lower one, with limited abilities. From an earthly point of view, this makes a certain sense. All the time of wakefulness, the brain works hard, selecting from the flow of sensory information that a person needs for existence, and therefore the loss of memory that we are only temporarily on Earth allows us to live more effectively “here and now”. Habitual life already gives us too much information that needs to be assimilated and used for our own benefit, and the constant memory of the worlds outside of earthly life would only slow down our development. If we already now had all the information about the spiritual world, it would be even more difficult for us to live on Earth. This does not mean that we should not think about it, but if we are too keenly aware of its grandeur and immensity, then this may adversely affect our behavior in earthly life. From the point of view of a great design (and now I know for sure that the universe is a great design), it would not be so important for a person endowed with free will to make the right decision in the face of evil and injustice if, living on Earth, he would remember all the charm and the splendor of the higher world that awaits him.

Why am I so sure of this? For two reasons. First, this was shown to me (by the beings who taught me at the Gate and at the Center). Second, I really experienced it. Being out of the body, I gained knowledge about the nature and structure of the universe, which is beyond my comprehension. And I received it mainly because, not remembering my earthly life, I was able to perceive this knowledge. Now that I am back on Earth and aware of my physical being, the seeds of this knowledge of the higher worlds are again hidden from me. And yet they are, I feel their presence. It will take years in the earthly world for these seeds to sprout. More precisely, it will take me years to understand with my mortal physical brain all that I learned so easily and quickly in a higher world where the brain did not exist. And yet I am sure that if I work hard, knowledge will continue to be revealed.

It is not enough to say that there is a huge gulf between our modern scientific understanding of the universe and the reality that I have seen. I still love physics and cosmology, I study our vast and wonderful Universe with the same interest. But now I have a more accurate idea of what "vast" and "wonderful" means. The physical side of the universe is a speck of dust compared to its invisible spiritual component. Previously, during scholarly conversations, I did not use the word "spiritual", but now I believe that we should by no means avoid this word.

From the Luminous Focus I got a clear idea of what we call "dark energy" or "dark matter", as well as other, more fantastic components of the Universe, to which people will direct their inquisitive mind only after many centuries.

But this does not mean that I am able to explain my ideas. Paradoxically, I myself am still trying to understand them. Maybe, The best way to convey part of my experience is to say that I have a premonition that in the future even more important and vast knowledge will be accessed by a large number of people. Now, the attempt at any explanation can be compared to the fact that a chimpanzee, who for one day turned into a man and gained access to all the wonders of human knowledge, and then returned to his relatives, wanted to tell them what it means to speak several foreign languages, what is calculus and the immense scale of the universe.

Up there, as soon as I had a question, the answer immediately appeared, like a flower blooming nearby. Just as in the universe no physical particle exists separately from another, in the same way there is no question without an answer in it. And these answers were not in the form of short "yes" or "no". These were broad concepts, amazing structures of living thought, as complex as cities. Ideas are so vast that they cannot be embraced by earthly thought. But I was not limited to it. There I threw off its limits, as a butterfly throws off its cocoon and climbs out into the light of day.

I saw the Earth as a pale blue dot in the endless blackness of physical space. It was given to me to know that good and evil are mixed on Earth and that this is one of its unique properties. There is more good on Earth than evil, but evil is given great power, which is absolutely unacceptable at the highest level of existence. The fact that evil will sometimes take over was known to the Creator and allowed by Him as a necessary consequence of endowing man with free will.

Tiny particles of evil are scattered throughout the universe, but the total amount of evil is like one grain of sand on a huge sandy shore compared to the good, abundance, hope and unconditional love that literally bathes the universe. The very essence of the alternate dimension is love and benevolence, and everything that does not contain these qualities is immediately evident there and seems out of place.

But free will comes at the cost of losing or falling out of this all-encompassing love and benevolence. Yes, we are free people, but surrounded by an environment that makes us feel not free. Having free will is incredibly important to our role in earthly reality - a role that - one day we will all know this - to a large extent determines whether we will be allowed to ascend into an alternative timeless dimension.

Our life on Earth may seem insignificant because it is too short compared to eternal life and other worlds with which the visible and invisible universes are full. However, it is also incredibly important, since it is here that a person is destined to grow, to rise to God, and this growth is closely watched by beings from the upper world - souls and luminous balls (those beings that I saw high above me in the Gate and which, I think, are the source of our idea of angels).

In reality, we make a choice between good and evil as spiritual beings temporarily inhabiting our evolved mortal bodies, derivatives of the Earth and earthly circumstances. Real thinking is not born in the brain. But we have been so conditioned - in part by the brain itself - to associate it with our thoughts and self-awareness that we have lost the awareness of the fact that we are more than just a physical body, including the brain, and should fulfill our destiny.

Real thinking originated long before the appearance of the physical world. It is this ancient, subconscious mind that is responsible for all the decisions we make. Real thinking is not subject to logical constructions, but swiftly and purposefully operates with an innumerable amount of information at all levels and instantly gives the only correct solution. Compared to the spiritual mind, our ordinary thinking is hopelessly timid and clumsy. It is this ancient mindset that allows you to intercept the ball in the goal zone, which manifests itself in scientific insights or writing an inspired hymn. Subconscious thinking always appears at the most necessary moment, but we often lose access to it, faith in it.

In order to cognize thinking without the participation of the brain, it is necessary to be in the world of instantaneous, spontaneous connections, in comparison with which ordinary thinking is hopelessly inhibited and cumbersome. Our deep and true "I" is completely free. It is not corrupted or compromised by past deeds, nor is it preoccupied with its identity and status. It understands that one should not be afraid of the earthly world, and therefore there is no need to elevate oneself with glory, wealth or victory. This "I" is truly spiritual, and one day we are all destined to resurrect it in ourselves. But I am convinced that until that day has come, we must do everything in our power to reconnect with this miraculous essence - to educate and reveal it. This entity is the soul that lives in our physical body, and it is what God wants us to be.

But how do you develop your spirituality? Only through love and compassion. Why? Because love and compassion are not abstract concepts, as they are often considered. They are real and tangible. They are the very essence, the basis of the spiritual world. In order to return to it, we must again rise to it - even now, while we are attached to earthly life and make our earthly journey with difficulty.

Thinking about God or Allah, Vishnu, Jehovah, or whatever you like to call the Source of absolute power, the Creator who rules the Universe, people make one of the greatest mistakes - they represent Om as impassive. Yes, God stands behind the numbers, behind the perfection of the universe, which science measures and strives to comprehend. But - another paradox - Om is human, much more human than you and I. Om understands and deeply sympathizes with our situation, because he knows what we have forgotten, and understands how scary and hard it is to live, even for a moment forgetting about God.

My consciousness became wider and wider, as if it perceived the entire Universe. Have you ever listened to music on the radio accompanied by atmospheric noises and crackles? You are used to it, believing that it cannot be otherwise. But then someone tuned the receiver to the right wave, and the same piece suddenly acquired an amazingly clear and full sound. It amazes you how you didn't notice interference before.

Such is the adaptability of the human body. I have repeatedly explained to patients that the feeling of discomfort will subside when their brain and whole body get used to the new situation. If something happens long enough, then the brain gets used to ignoring it or just accepting it as normal.

But our limited earthly consciousness is far from normal, and I received the first confirmation of this when I penetrated into the very heart of the Center. My lack of memory of my earthly past did not make me an insignificant nonentity. I realized and remembered who I was there. I was a citizen of the universe, overwhelmed by its infinity and complexity and driven only by love.

Ultimately, no person is an orphan. We are all in the same position as I was. That is, each of us has another family, creatures that watch over us and take care of us, creatures that we forgot about for a while, but who, if we open up to them, are always ready to guide us in our life on Earth. There is no person who would be unloved. Each of us is deeply known and loved by the Creator, who tirelessly takes care of us. This knowledge should not remain a secret any longer.

Every time I found myself again in the gloomy Land of the Worm, I managed to remember the beautiful Flowing Melody that opened access to the Gate and Center. I spent a lot of time - which felt strangely like his absence - in the company of my guardian angel on the wing of a butterfly and for an eternity absorbed the knowledge emanating from the Creator and the Ball of Light in the depths of the Center.

At some point, approaching the Gate, I found that I could not enter them. The flowing Melody - which was my pass to the higher worlds - no longer led me there. The gates of Paradise were closed.

How to describe what I felt? Think of times when you have experienced disappointment. So, all our earthly disappointments are actually variations of the only important loss - the loss of Paradise. On the day when the Gates of Paradise closed before me, I experienced an incomparable, inexpressible bitterness and sadness. Although there, in the higher world, all human emotions are present, they are incredibly deeper and stronger, more comprehensive - they are, so to speak, not only inside you, but also outside. Imagine that every time your mood changes here on Earth, the weather changes with it. That your tears cause a powerful downpour, and clouds instantly disappear from your joy. This will give you a glimpse of how big and how effective the mood change is going on there. As for our concepts of "inside" and "outside", they are simply inapplicable there, because there is no such division.

In a word, I plunged into endless sorrow, which was accompanied by a decline. I descended through huge stratus clouds. There were whispers all around, but I couldn't make out the words. Then I became aware that I was surrounded by kneeling beings that formed arches, one after the other, stretching into the distance. Thinking about it now, I understand what these barely visible and felt hosts of angels were doing, stretching up and down in the darkness in a chain.

They prayed for me.

Two of them had faces that I remembered later. These were the faces of Michael Sullivan and his wife Paige. I only saw them in profile, but when I could speak again, I immediately named them. Michael was present in my room, constantly saying prayers, but Paige did not appear there (although she also prayed for me).

These prayers gave me strength. Perhaps that is why, bitter as I was, I felt a strange certainty that everything would be fine. These disembodied beings knew that I was going through a transition and they sang and prayed to support me. I was carried into the unknown, but by that moment I already knew that I would no longer be left alone. This was promised to me by my beautiful butterfly-wing companion and infinitely loving God. I knew for sure that wherever I went from now on, Paradise would be with me in the form of the Creator, Om, and in the form of my angel - the Girl on the Butterfly's Wing.

I was going back, but I wasn't alone - and I knew I would never feel alone again.

When I plunged into the Land of the Worm, then, as always, out of the muddy mud appeared not animal muzzles, but the faces of people. And these people were clearly talking about something. True, I could not make out the words.

When my descent was made, I could not name any of them. I just knew, rather, felt that for some reason they were very important to me.

One of these faces attracted me in particular. It began to attract me. Suddenly, in a jolt that seemed to reverberate through the whole dance of clouds and praying angels as I descended, I realized that the angels of the Gates and Centers—whom I seemed to love forever—were not the only beings I knew. I knew and loved the creatures below me - in that world that I was rapidly approaching. Creatures that until that moment I did not remember at all.

This awareness focused on six faces, one of them in particular. It was very close and familiar. With surprise and almost fear, I realized that this face belonged to a person who really needs me. That this man will never get well if I leave. If I leave him, he will suffer unbearably from the loss, as I suffered when the Gates of Paradise closed before me. That would be a betrayal that I couldn't commit.

Until now, I have been free. I traveled through the worlds calmly and carelessly, not caring about these people at all. But I wasn't ashamed of it. Even when I was in the Center, I did not feel any anxiety and guilt for leaving them below. The first thing I learned while flying with the Girl on the Butterfly Wing was the thought, "You can't do anything wrong."

But now it was different. So different that for the first time in the whole trip I experienced real horror - not for myself, but for these six, especially for this man. I couldn't tell who he was, but I knew he was very important to me.

His face became more and more distinct, and finally I saw that it - that is, he - was praying that I would return, not be afraid to make a dangerous descent into the lower world in order to be with him again. I still did not understand his words, but somehow I understood that I had a pledge in this lower world.

This meant that I was back. I had connections here that I had to respect. The clearer the face that attracted me became, the clearer I realized my duty. As I got closer, I recognized the face.

The face of a little boy.

All my relatives, doctors and nurses came running to me. They looked at me with wide eyes, literally speechless, and I calmly and joyfully smiled at them.

Everything is fine! I said, beaming with joy. I peered into their faces, realizing the divine miracle of our existence. "Don't worry, everything's fine," I repeated, reassuring them.

For two days I raved about skydiving, airplanes and the Internet, speaking to those who listened to me. While my brain was recovering, I was immersed in a strange and excruciatingly abnormal universe. As soon as I closed my eyes, I began to be overwhelmed by the terrible “messages of the Internet” appearing from nowhere; sometimes, when my eyes were open, they appeared on the ceiling. Closing my eyes, I heard a monotonous grinding sound, strangely reminiscent of chants, which usually disappeared immediately as soon as I opened them again. I kept poking my finger into space, as if I were pressing keys, trying to work on a computer with Russian and Chinese keyboards floating past me.

In short, I was like a lunatic.

Everything was a bit like the Land of the Worm, only more terrible, because fragments of my earthly past burst into everything that I saw and heard. (I recognized my family members even if I couldn't remember their names.)

But at the same time, my visions lacked the amazing clarity and vibrant vivacity - reality in the highest sense - the Gate and Center.

I was definitely going back into my brain.

Despite the first moment of apparent full consciousness when I first opened my eyes, I soon again lost the memory of my human life before the coma. I remembered only those places where I had just visited: the gloomy and disgusting Land of the Worm, the idyllic Gates and the heavenly blissful Center. My mind—my real self—was shrinking again, returning to an all too tight physical existence with its space-time boundaries, straight-line thinking, and meager verbal communication. Just a week ago I thought that this was the only possible kind of existence, but now it seemed to me incredibly miserable and unfree.

Gradually the hallucinations went away and my thinking became more reasonable and my speech clearer. Two days later, I was transferred to the neurological department.

As the temporarily blocked brain became more and more involved in the work, I watched with amazement what I said and did, and was amazed: how is it possible?

A few more days later, I was already talking smartly with the people who visited me. And it didn't take much effort on my part. Like an autopilot on an airplane, my brain took me along the increasingly familiar route of my earthly life. So I learned firsthand what I knew as a neurosurgeon: the brain is truly an amazing machine.

Day after day, more of my "I" returned to me, as well as speech, memory, recognition, a penchant for mischief, which was characteristic of me before.

Even then I understood one indisputable fact, which the others soon had to realize. Whatever experts or non-neurologists might think, I was no longer ill, my brain was not damaged. I was completely healthy. What's more - though only I knew at the time - for the first time in my life, I was truly healthy.

Little by little, my professional memory returned to me.

I woke up one morning and found myself once again in possession of a full body of scientific and medical knowledge that I had not felt the day before. It was one of the strangest aspects of my experience, opening my eyes to feel that all the results of my training and practice came back to me.

While the knowledge of the neurosurgeon returned to me, the memory of what happened to me during my time out of the body also remained completely clear and vivid. Events that took place outside the earthly reality caused me a feeling of incredible happiness, with which I woke up. And this blissful state did not leave me. Of course, I was very happy to be with my loved ones again. But to this joy was added - I will try to explain it as clearly as possible - an understanding of who I am and in what world we live.

I was overcome by a stubborn - and naive - desire to tell about it, especially to my colleagues - doctors. After all, what I experienced completely changed my understanding of the brain, consciousness, even understanding the meaning of life. It would seem, who would refuse to hear about such discoveries?

As it turned out, very many, especially people with medical education.

Don't get me wrong - the doctors were very happy for me.

This is wonderful, Eben, they said, as I used to answer my patients who tried to tell me about otherworldly experiences they had experienced, for example, during an operation. - You were very seriously ill. Your brain was full of pus. We still can't believe you're with us and talking about it. You yourself know what state the brain is in when it comes this far.

But how can I blame them? After all, I would not have understood this - before.

The more the ability to think scientifically returned to me, the more clearly I saw how radically my previous scientific and practical knowledge diverged from what I had learned, the more I understood that the mind and soul continue to exist even after the death of the physical body. I had to tell my story to the world.

The next few weeks went the same way. I woke up at two or two and a half hours in the morning and experienced such joy from the mere consciousness that I was alive that I immediately got up. Having kindled the fireplace in my office, I sat down in my favorite leather armchair and wrote. I recalled all the details of the journey to and from the Center and all the lessons learned that could change my life. Although the word "remembered" is not quite right. These pictures were present in me, alive and distinct.

The day came when I finally wrote down everything I could, the smallest details about the Land of the Worm, the Gate and the Center.

Very quickly I realized that both in our time and in distant centuries, what I experienced was experienced by countless people. Stories about a black tunnel or a gloomy valley, which were replaced by a bright and lively landscape - absolutely real - existed in the days of Ancient Greece and Egypt. Tales of angelic beings - sometimes with wings, sometimes without them - originated at least in the ancient Near East, as did the notion that these beings were guardians who watched over the lives of people on Earth and met the souls of these people when they left her. The ability to see simultaneously in all directions; the feeling that you are outside of linear time - outside of everything that you previously considered defining human life; the ability to hear music reminiscent of sacred hymns, which were perceived there by the whole being, and not just by the ears; direct transmission and instant assimilation of knowledge, which would take a lot of time and effort to understand on Earth; feeling of all-encompassing and unconditional love ...

Over and over again, in modern confessions and in the spiritual writings of early centuries, I have felt the narrator literally wrestle with the limitations of earthly language, wanting to convey his experience as fully as possible, and I saw that he could not succeed.

And, getting acquainted with these unsuccessful attempts to find words and our earthly images to give an idea of the immense depth and inexpressible splendor of the Universe, I exclaimed in my soul: “Yes, yes! I understand what you wanted to say!

All these books and materials that existed before my experience, I had never seen before. I emphasize that not only did I not read it, but I did not see it with my eyes. After all, before I didn’t even think about the possibility of the existence of some part of our “I” after the physical death of the body. I was a typical doctor, attentive to my patients, although I was skeptical about their "talks". And I can say that most skeptics are actually not at all. Because, before denying a phenomenon or refuting any point of view, it is necessary to seriously study them. I, like other doctors, did not consider it necessary to spend time studying the experience of near-death experience. I just knew that it was impossible, that it could not be.

From a medical point of view, my complete recovery seemed completely impossible and was a real miracle. But the main thing is where I've been...

I vividly remembered being out of the body and, finding myself in a church where I had not been particularly attracted before, I saw pictures and heard music that evoked already experienced sensations. Low rhythmic chants shook the gloomy Land of the Worm. The mosaic windows with angels in the clouds recalled the heavenly beauty of the Gate. The image of Jesus breaking bread with his disciples evoked a bright feeling of communion with the Center. I shuddered as I remembered the bliss of the infinite unconditional love I had known in the higher world.

I finally understood what true faith is. Or at least what it should be. I didn't just believe in God; I knew Ohm. And I slowly went to the altar to take communion, and could not hold back my tears.

It took about two months for all my scientific and practical knowledge to finally return to me. Of course, the very fact of their return is a real miracle. Until now, in medical practice there is no analogue to my case: so that the brain, which has been under the powerful destructive action of the gram-negative bacterium E. coli for a long time, completely restores all its functions. So, based on the newly acquired knowledge, I tried to comprehend the deep contradiction between everything that I learned in forty years of study and practice about the human brain, about the Universe and about the formation of ideas about reality, and what I experienced during the seven days of a coma. Before my sudden illness, I was an ordinary doctor working in the most prestigious scientific institutions in the world and trying to understand the relationship between the brain and consciousness. It's not that I don't believe in consciousness. It's just that I understood more than others the improbability that it exists independently of the brain and, in general, of everything!

In the 1920s, the physicist Werner Heisenberg and other founders of quantum mechanics, studying the atom, made such an unusual discovery that the world is still trying to comprehend it. Namely: during a scientific experiment, an alternating action arises between the observer and the observed object, that is, a connection, and it is impossible to separate the observer (that is, the scientist) from what he sees. In everyday life, we do not take this factor into account. For us, the universe is filled with countless isolated, separate objects (for example, tables and chairs, people and planets) that interact with each other in one way or another, but at the same time remain, in fact, separate. However, when viewed from the point of view of quantum theory, this universe of separately existing objects turns out to be a complete illusion. In the world of microscopic particles, every object in the physical universe is ultimately connected to all other objects. In fact, there are no objects in the world - only energy vibrations and interactions.

The meaning of this is obvious, although not for everyone. Without the involvement of consciousness, it was impossible to study the very essence of the Universe. Consciousness is not at all a secondary product of physical processes (as I thought before my experience) and not only really exists - it is even more real than all other physical objects, but - quite possibly - is their basis. However, these views have not yet formed the basis of scientists' ideas about reality. Many of them are trying to do this, but a unified physical and mathematical "theory of everything" has not yet been built, which would combine the laws of quantum mechanics with the laws of relativity in such a way that it includes consciousness.

All objects in the physical universe are made up of atoms. Atoms are made up of protons, electrons and neutrons. Those, in turn (as physicists established at the beginning of the 20th century), consist of microparticles. And microparticles are made up of... In truth, physicists don't yet know exactly what they are made of.

But they know for sure that in the Universe each particle is connected with another. They are all interconnected at the deepest level.

Before OKS, I had the most general idea of these scientific ideas. My life flowed in the environment modern city with heavy traffic and densely populated residential areas, in hard work at the operating table and anxiety for patients. So, even if these facts of atomic physics were true, they did not affect my daily life in any way.

But when I broke out of my physical body, the deepest interconnection between everything that exists in the Universe was fully revealed to me. I even consider myself entitled to say that, being in the Gates and in the Center, I “created science”, although at that time I, of course, did not think about it. A science that is based on the most precise and complex tool of scientific knowledge that we have, namely consciousness itself.

The more I thought about my experience, the more I became convinced that my discovery was not just interesting and exciting. It was scientific. The representation of my interlocutors regarding consciousness was of two types: some considered it the greatest mystery for science, others saw no problem here at all. It is surprising how many scientists adhere to the latter point of view. They believe that consciousness is just a product of biological processes occurring in the brain. Someone goes even further, arguing that it is not only secondary, but that it simply does not exist. However, many leading scientists involved in the philosophy of mind will not agree with them. Over the past decades, they have had to admit that there is a "hard problem of consciousness." David Chalmers was the first to present his idea of the "hard problem of consciousness" in the brilliant 1996 work The Conscious Mind. The "Hard Problem of Consciousness" concerns the very existence of mental experience and can be summed up in the following questions:

How are consciousness and a functioning brain connected?

How is consciousness related to behavior?

How does sensory experience relate to reality?

These questions are so complex that, according to some thinkers, modern science is unable to answer them. However, this does not make the problem of consciousness any less important - to understand the nature of consciousness means to understand the meaning of its incredibly serious role in the Universe.

Over the past four hundred years, the main role in the knowledge of the world has been assigned to science, which has studied exclusively the physical side of things and phenomena. And this has led to the fact that we have lost interest and approaches to the deepest mystery of the basis of existence - to our consciousness. Many scientists argue that the ancient religions understood the nature of consciousness perfectly and carefully guarded this knowledge from the uninitiated. But our secular culture, in its reverence for the power of modern science and technology, has neglected the precious experience of the past.

For the progress of Western civilization, mankind has paid a huge price in the form of the loss of the very foundation of existence - our spirit. The greatest scientific discoveries and high technologies have led to catastrophic consequences, such as modern military strategies, senseless killings and suicides, sick cities, environmental damage, abrupt climate change, misuse of economic resources. All this is terrible. But even worse, the exceptional importance that we attach to the rapid development of science and technology robs us of the meaning and joy of life, deprives us of the opportunity to understand our role in the great design of the entire universe.

It is difficult to answer questions regarding the soul, the afterlife, reincarnation, God, and Paradise using accepted scientific terms. After all, science believes that all this simply does not exist. Similarly, conscious phenomena such as remote vision, extrasensory perception, telekinesis, clairvoyance, telepathy, and precognition stubbornly defy “standard” scientific methods. Before my coma, I myself doubted the validity of these phenomena, since I had never experienced them personally, and my simplified scientific worldview could not explain them.

Like other skeptical scientists, I refused to even consider information about these phenomena - because of a persistent prejudice against the information itself and those from whom it came. My limited views did not allow me to catch even the faintest hint of how these things could happen. Despite the huge amount of evidence for the phenomenon of expanded consciousness, skeptics deny their demonstrative nature and deliberately ignore them. They are sure that they have true knowledge, so they do not need to take into account such facts.

We are tempted by the idea that the scientific knowledge of the world is rapidly approaching the creation of a unified physical and mathematical theory that explains all known fundamental interactions, in which there is no place for our soul, spirit, Paradise and God. My coma journey from the earthly physical world to the higher realms of the Almighty Creator's habitation revealed an incredibly deep gulf between human knowledge and the awe-inspiring kingdom of God.

Consciousness is so habitually and inseparably connected with our existence that it still remains incomprehensible to the human mind. In the physics of the material world (in quarks, electrons, photons, atoms, etc.) and especially in the complex structure of the brain, there is nothing that would give us even the slightest hint of the nature of consciousness.

The most important key to understanding the reality of the spiritual world is to unravel the deepest mystery of our consciousness. This mystery still defies the efforts of physicists and neuroscientists, and therefore the deep relationship between consciousness and quantum mechanics, that is, the entire physical world, remains unknown.

To know the Universe, it is necessary to recognize the fundamental role of consciousness in the representation of reality. Experiments in quantum mechanics amazed the brilliant founders of this field of physics, many of whom (suffice it to name Werner Heisenberg, Wolfgang Pauli, Niels Bohr, Erwin Schrödinger, Sir James Jeans) turned to a mystical view of the world in search of an answer.

As for me, beyond the physical world, I discovered the indescribable vastness and complexity of the universe, as well as the indisputable fact that consciousness is the basis of everything that exists. I was so merged with him that I often did not feel the difference between my "I" and the world in which I moved. If I had to briefly describe my discoveries, then, firstly, I would note that the Universe is immeasurably larger than it seems when we look at directly visible objects. This is not news, of course, as mainstream science recognizes that 96 percent of the universe is "dark matter and energy."

What are these dark structures? So far, no one knows for sure. My experience is unique in that I instantly acquired an unspoken knowledge about the leading role of consciousness, or spirit. And this knowledge was not theoretical, but factual, exciting and tangible, like a breath of cold wind on the face. Secondly, we are all extremely complex and inextricably linked with the vast Universe. She is our true home. And attaching primary importance to the physical world is like closing yourself in a cramped closet and imagining that there is nothing behind its doors. And thirdly, faith plays a key role in understanding the primacy of consciousness and the secondary nature of matter. As a medical student, I often marveled at the power of placebos. We were told that about 30 percent of the benefit of drugs must be attributed to the patient's belief that they will help him, even if they are completely inert drugs. Instead of seeing this as the hidden power of faith and understanding its impact on our health, doctors saw the glass as “half empty,” that is, they considered the placebo to be a hindrance in determining the benefit of the study medication.

At the heart of the enigma of quantum mechanics lies a false notion of our place in space and time. The rest of the universe, that is, its largest part, is not really remote from us in space. Yes, the physical space seems real, but at the same time it has its limits. The size of the physical universe is nothing compared to the spiritual world that gave birth to it - the world of consciousness (which can be called the power of love).

This other universe, immeasurably larger than the physical one, is not at all separated from us by distant spaces, as it seems to us. In fact, we are all in it - I am in my city, typing these lines, and you are at home, reading them. It is not distant from us in a physical sense, but simply exists on a different frequency. We don't realize it because most of us don't have access to the frequency on which it reveals itself. We exist on the scale of familiar time and space, the limits of which are determined by the imperfection of our sensory perception of reality, which is inaccessible to other scales.

The ancient Greeks figured this out a long time ago, and I just discovered what they had already defined: "Explain like with like." The Universe is arranged in such a way that for a true understanding of any of its dimensions and levels, it is necessary to become a part of this dimension. Or, to put it more precisely, you need to realize your identity of that part of the Universe to which you already belong, which you are not aware of.

The universe has neither beginning nor end, and God (Om) is present in every part of it. Most of the reasoning about God and the higher spiritual world brings them down to our level, and does not elevate our consciousness to their height.

Our imperfect interpretation distorts their true essence, worthy of reverence.

But although the existence of the universe is eternal and infinite, it has punctuation points designed to call people to life and enable them to participate in the glory of God. The Big Bang, which marked the beginning of our universe, was one of these "punctuation marks."

Om looked at it from the outside, embracing with his gaze everything created by Him, inaccessible even to my large-scale vision in the higher worlds. To see there meant to know. There was no difference between the sensory perception of objects and phenomena and the understanding of their essence.

“I was blind, but now I saw the light” - this phrase acquired a new meaning for me when I realized how blind we earthlings are to the creative nature of the spiritual universe. Especially those of us (I used to belong to them) who are sure that the main thing is matter, while everything else - thoughts, consciousness, ideas, emotions, spirit - is only its derivative.

This revelation literally inspired me, it gave me the opportunity to see the boundless heights of spiritual unity and what awaits all of us when we go beyond our physical body.

Humor. Irony, Paphos. I always thought that people developed these qualities in themselves in order to survive in an often difficult and unfair earthly world. This is partly true. But at the same time, they give us an understanding of the truth that, no matter how hard it may be for us in this world, suffering will not affect us as spiritual beings. Laughter and irony remind us that we are not prisoners of this world, but only pass through it, as through a dense and dangerous forest.

Another aspect of the good news is that one does not have to be on the brink between life and death in order to look beyond the mysterious veil. You just need to read books and attend lectures on spiritual life, and at the end of the day, through prayer or meditation, dive into our subconscious to gain access to higher truths.

Just as my consciousness was individual and at the same time inseparable from the Universe, in the same way it either narrowed or expanded, embracing everything that exists in the Universe. The boundaries between my consciousness and the surrounding reality sometimes became so shaky and vague that I myself became the universe. Otherwise, it can be expressed as follows: at times I felt my complete identity with the Universe, which was integral to me, but which I did not understand until then.

To explain the state of consciousness at this deep level, I often resort to the comparison with a hen's egg. During my stay in the Center, when I found myself alone with the Luminous orb and the entire incredibly grandiose Universe and, in the end, I was alone with God, I clearly felt that He, as the original creative aspect, is comparable to the shell around the contents of the egg, which are intimately connected ( how our consciousness is a direct extension of God), and yet infinitely higher than absolute identification with the consciousness of his creation. Even when my "I" merged with everything and with eternity, I felt that I could not become completely merged with the creative principle of the creator of all things. Behind the deepest and most penetrating unity, duality was still felt. Perhaps such a palpable duality is a consequence of the desire to return the expanded consciousness to the boundaries of our earthly reality.

I did not hear Om's voice, did not see his face. Om seemed to be talking to me through thoughts that, like waves, rolled through me, causing vibrations in the world around me and proving that there is a finer fabric of existence - a fabric of which we are all a part, but which we are usually not aware of.

So did I communicate directly with God? Undoubtedly. It sounds pretentious, but at the time it didn't seem so to me. I felt that the soul of any human being can communicate with God after leaving his body, and that we can all live righteously if we pray or resort to meditation. It is impossible to imagine anything more sublime and sacred than communication with God, and at the same time this is the most natural act, for God is always with us. Omniscient, omnipotent and loving us without any conditions and reservations. We are all bound together by a sacred bond with God.

I understand that there will be people who will try in any way to devalue my experience; some will simply brush it aside, refusing to see it as a scientific value, considering it just a feverish delirium and fantasy.

But I know better. For the sake of those who live on Earth, and for the sake of those with whom I met outside this world, I consider it my duty - the duty of a scientist who seeks to get to the bottom of the truth, and the duty of a doctor who is called to help people - to say that my experience was genuine and hereby, that it is of great significance. This is important not only for me, but for all mankind.

As before, I am a scientist and a doctor, and therefore I am obliged to honor the truth and heal people. And that means telling your story. As time goes on, I am more and more convinced that this story happened to me for a reason. My case demonstrates the futility of attempts by reduction science to prove that only this material world exists and that consciousness or soul - whether mine or yours - is not the greatest and most important mystery of the universe.

I am a living proof of that.

In this book, Dr. Eben Alexander, a neurosurgeon with 25 years of experience, a professor who taught at Harvard Medical School and other major American universities, shares with the reader his impressions of his journey to the next world.

His case is unique. Struck by a sudden and inexplicable form of bacterial meningitis, he miraculously recovered from a seven-day coma. A highly educated physician with vast practical experience, who before not only did not believe in an afterlife, but also did not allow the thought of it, experienced the transfer of his "I" to the higher worlds and encountered there such amazing phenomena and revelations that, returning to earthly life , considered it his duty as a scientist and healer to tell the whole world about them.

On our website you can download the book "Proof of Paradise" by Eben Alexander for free and without registration in fb2, rtf, epub, pdf, txt format, read the book online or buy a book in an online store.

Eben Alexander

Paradise proof. The true story of a neurosurgeon's journey to the afterlife

PROOF OF HEAVEN: A NEUROSURGEON'S JOURNEY INTO THE AFTERLIFE

Man must rely on what is, and not on what supposedly should be.

Albert Einstein

As a child, I often dreamed that I was flying.

Usually it happened like this: I was standing in the courtyard, looking at the stars, and suddenly the wind picked me up and carried me up. It was natural to get off the ground, but the higher I climbed, the more the flight depended on me. If I was overexcited, I surrendered too fully to the sensations, then I flopped to the ground with a swing. But if I managed to keep calm and cool, I took off faster and faster - straight into the starry sky.

Perhaps my love for parachutes, rockets and airplanes grew out of these dreams - everything that could take me back to the transcendental world.

When my family and I flew somewhere on an airplane, I did not come off the window from takeoff to landing. In the summer of 1968, when I was fourteen, I spent all the money I earned mowing lawns on gliding lessons. I was taught by a guy named Goose Street, and our classes were in Strawberry Hill, a little grassy "aerodrome" west of Winston-Salem, the town where I grew up. I still remember my heart pounding as I pulled the big red handle, dropped the tow rope that tied my glider to the plane, and banked toward the airfield. Then for the first time I felt truly independent and free. Most of my friends have experienced this feeling while driving, but 300 meters above the ground, it feels a hundred times more intense.

In 1970, while still in college, I joined the skydiving team at the University of North Carolina. It was like a secret brotherhood - a group of people who are doing something exceptional and magical. The first time I jumped, I was terrified to the point of trembling, and the second time I was even more scared. Only on the twelfth jump, when I stepped through the door of the plane and flew more than three hundred meters before the parachute opened (my first jump with a ten-second delay), did I feel in my native element. By the time I graduated from college, I had three hundred and sixty-five jumps and nearly four hours of freefall to my credit. And although I stopped jumping in 1976, I still - clearly, as if in reality - dreamed of long jumps, and it was wonderful.

The best jumps were made in the late afternoon, when the sun was low on the horizon. It is difficult to describe what I felt at the same time: a feeling of closeness to something that I could not really name, but which I always lacked. And it's not about solitude - our jumps had nothing to do with loneliness. We jumped five, six, and sometimes ten or twelve people at a time, building figures in free fall. The larger the group and the more complex the figure, the more interesting.

One fine autumn day in 1975, my university team and I gathered at our friend's skydiving center to practice group jumps. Having worked hard, we finally jumped out of the Beechcraft D-18 at an altitude of three kilometers and made a "snowflake" of ten people. We managed to connect into a perfect figure and fly more than two kilometers in this way, fully enjoying an eighteen-second free fall in a deep crevasse between two tall cumulus clouds. Then, at an altitude of one kilometer, we dispersed and dispersed along our trajectories to open our parachutes.

By the time we landed, it was already dark. However, we hurriedly jumped into another plane, quickly took off and managed to catch the last rays of the sun in the sky to make the second sunset jump. This time two newcomers jumped with us - it was their first attempt to participate in the construction of the figure. They had to join the figure from the outside, and not be at its base, which is much easier: in this case, your task is simply to fall down while others maneuver towards you. It was an exciting moment both for them and for us, experienced skydivers, because we created a team, shared our experience with those with whom we could make even bigger figures in the future.

I was to be the last to join the six-pointed star we were about to build over runway small airport near Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina. The guy who was jumping in front of me was called Chuck, and he had a lot of experience with freefall formations. At an altitude of more than two kilometers, we were still bathing in the rays of the sun, and on the ground below us, street lamps were already flickering. Jumping at dusk is always amazing, and this jump promised to be just wonderful.

- Three, two, one ... go!

I fell out of the plane just a second after Chuck, but I had to hurry to catch up with my friends when they began to line up. For seven seconds I was head down like a rocket, which allowed me to descend at a speed of almost one hundred and sixty kilometers per hour and catch up with the others.

In a dizzying upside-down flight, almost reaching critical speed, I smiled as I watched the sunset for the second time that day. As we approached the others, I planned to use "air brakes" - fabric "wings" that stretched from our wrists to our hips and sharply slowed our fall if they were deployed at high speed. I spread my arms out to the sides, loosening my wide sleeves and slowing down in the air current.

However, something went wrong.

Flying up to our "star", I saw that one of the newcomers accelerated too much. Maybe the fall between the clouds scared him - made him remember that at a speed of sixty meters per second he was approaching a huge planet, half-hidden by a thickening night mist. Instead of slowly clinging to the edge of the "star", he crashed into it, so that it crumbled, and now my five friends were tumbling in the air at random.

Usually in group long jumps at a height of one kilometer, the figure breaks up, and everyone scatters as far as possible from each other. Then everyone gives a signal with his hand as a sign of readiness to open the parachute, looks up to make sure that there is no one above him, and only after that pulls the lanyard.

But they were too close to each other. The skydiver leaves behind a trail of high turbulence and low pressure. If another person falls into this trail, their speed will immediately increase and they may fall into the one below. This, in turn, will give acceleration to both of them, and the two of them can already crash into the one who is under them. In other words, this is how disasters happen.

I twisted and flew away from the group so as not to get into this tumbling mass. I maneuvered until I was directly over the "spot" - a magical point on the ground, over which we had to open our parachutes for a leisurely two-minute descent.

I looked around and was relieved - the disoriented paratroopers were moving away from each other, so that the deadly pile was little by little dispersed.

However, to my surprise, I saw that Chuck was walking towards me and stopped right below me. With all this group acrobatics, we passed the six hundred-meter mark faster than he expected. Or maybe he considered himself lucky, who did not have to scrupulously follow the rules.

He must not see me, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind when a bright pilot chute flew out of Chuck's backpack. It caught an air current rushing past at almost two hundred kilometers an hour and fired straight at me, pulling the main dome with it.

From the moment I saw Chuck's pilot chute, I literally had a fraction of a second to react. Because in a moment I would have fallen on the main dome that opened, and then - very likely - on Chuck himself. If at that speed I hit his arm or leg, I would tear them off completely. If I fell right on top of him, our bodies would shatter into pieces.

People say that in such situations time slows down, and they are right. My mind tracked what was happening in microseconds, as if I were watching a movie in very slow motion.

I came face to face with a world of consciousness that exists completely independent of the limitations of the physical brain.

Sf has come face to face with the world of consciousness, which exists absolutely independently of the limitations of the physical brain.

As soon as I saw the pilot chute, I pressed my arms to my sides and straightened my body in a vertical jump, slightly bending my legs. This position gave me acceleration, and the bending provided the body with a horizontal movement - at first a little, and then like a gust of wind that picked me up, as if my body had become a wing. I was able to get past Chuck, right in front of his bright parachute drop.

The path of the soul and scientific proof of the existence of paradise. The famous neurosurgeon said that he personally saw Eben Alexander in the next world Proof of paradise

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Prologue

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Chapter 1 Pain

Chapter 1
Pain