My title for this piece is, of course, somewhat provocative, more than a little controversial, and in this case true for it deals with events I experienced after my mother’s death in the spring of this year.
Any discussion of the existence of life after life is one that arouses powerful emotions in a lot of people. Some wholeheartedly believe in it, and there are many others who would call believers delusional at best.
I am one of those delusional folks, but I realized long ago that you either believe or you don’t, and I have never found a person who is really in the middle ground waiting for proof one way or another. Because of that experience I usually refrain from writing in this area, but last night a posting from a gather friend acted as the impetus for writing down this experience.
As a trained engineer I have always tried to reconcile any of my beliefs with science as I understand it. To the best of my ability, I try to make sure that nothing I believe contradicts established science fact, but many of the things I believe cannot be proved by known science.
I have always allowed myself this leeway simply because history has shown that what is often perceived as impossible in one century is commonplace in another. Radioactivity, quantum weirdness of an atom existing in two places at one time, and many other discoveries have convinced me that the word “never” should be avoided whenever possible when you are talking about things that might be. That position was solidified when in the course of my career I was introduced to technologies the rest of the world believed impossible at the time.
In the area of life after life I have always believed that it is in the potential for other dimensions of the universe where an understanding will be discovered of the possible continuation of what most people would call the soul. The novel I have just completed and plan to publish this fall deals with the issue of how that happens, and how an enemy might stop it from occurring. It is of course fiction, but it contains an element of my own beliefs, which of course is where fiction comes from.
My concept of what transpires at the moment of death is that part of the mass energy content of our bodies shifts from the four dimensional universe that we sense into other dimensions, but that at least one of the spatial dimensions remains the same. Allowing one dimension to remain in common, I speculate, could account for the interactions some people indicate they have with the dead.
With that introduction, those of you that believe I have lost what few marbles I had once I turned 65 can stop reading and start to draft your responses to that crazy guy Thuss. For those of you remaining, if there is anyone, here is the story of what happened after my mother’s death.
My mother died at the age of 93 after a short illness. For years she admitted she was afraid of death because she did not know if there was a hereafter, and she was desperately afraid of never seeing her children again.
I have been present very soon after the deaths of a few people dear to me, but my mother’s was different in that in less than five minutes after her death there was absolutely no resemblance of the shell to what was once her.
Alive to long dead was an event and not a process, and it was very unsettling because I had not witnessed anyone’s death in that way before. Her funeral and burial were uneventful except for a scramble at the graveside to find a bible so that one of my cousins could read the 23rd psalm.
Knowing my mother’s fear of nonexistence, a week or so after her death I began to wish she could communicate a simple message that she was okay. I was rewarded with a vivid dream/out of body experience (OOBE) where she assured me that she was okay, and she explained her surroundings as we walked together in a field
Those of you who have experienced OOBE’s know precisely what they are, but in most cases they cannot be proven or even validated, and that is always the case when they deal with events outside of Spacetime as we understand it. I have had enough of them, and having practiced the techniques laid out by Robert Monroe four decades ago, I believe in their reality. But I would never spend one moment of my life trying to convince anyone they were real experiences that had not had one of those seminal events in their adult lives.
My saying that I know something that cannot be proven or even logically explained can, appropriately, be ridiculed by others, and I do not take offense when that happens in this area, especially because there are times when doubt creeps it’s way back into my own thinking about what I have really experienced
Three weeks or so passed, and I found myself wanting more concrete proof that she was indeed okay. The event happened the next day when a small bible from my childhood unexpectedly appeared on my writing table. I do not remember seeing this book for more than a dozen years. The front of the book was facing up, and it was the book of psalms.
My wife and I are the only ones living in the house, and she indicated she had not been in my room the previous evening and that she had never seen that bible before. Based on the frantic search for a bible at her funeral, I took the appearance of this book as a real communication. Solidifying that opinion, several days later, a few folded pages of song music with a note written by my mother appeared in the same room. It simply read “Richard, read this,” and right in front of the sheet music was a paragraph explaining the song’s meaning, which was about thinking about someone who had died.
My personal explanation for this is that if we do indeed share an eleven dimensional universe as has been postulated by many physicists, that it may be possible for some communications across different realities if one of the spatial dimensions remain in common. One dimension in common would not ordinarily be observable, because a one-dimensional object is a line without thickness, and when viewed from any angle in our reality it would virtually remain unseen. A very thin, very stiff wire essentially disappears when viewed from directly on end, but it still can have an effect on matter.
This common dimension interaction, if it exists, may explain the events I experienced, or they may be simply the delusions of a writer of fiction. I know what I believe, and you can make up your own mind
(thanks for your post, Sharon.)