There is no suffering of any kind in the Afterlife.
ไม่มีความทุกข์ทรมานใด ๆ ในชีวิตหลัง ความตาย
Chapter 3️⃣0️⃣
God : “You may remain merged with the Essence as long as you wish, but, as we have explained, you will not wish to remain forever, for you would lose the ability to know the ecstasy of the experience.
“The tremendous energy shift that you will experience during Total Immersion will propel you back out of the Essence, renewed and re-created as the identity you remember, and standing in the Core of Your Being.”
“Imagine now a large room where the portion of the mural that you looked at when you were coming down the Corridor of Time are mounted on the walls. The entire mural is not there, only the parts of the mural, only the sections of the overall painting, upon which you focused as you moved through the Corridor.
“As you explore these paintings deeply, you experience everything that is happening in the painting. Not just what is happening with you, but what is happening with everyone else in the painting.
“These images represent each of the moments of your life, and now, examine them, you have for the first time a complete picture of all that is going on in every moment.
N : Well, here we go again. Is it a coincidence that just as we are having this conversation I would meet a woman at a spiritual retreat that I was facilitating in Bristol, England, who told me a story that echoes your ‘metaphor’?
I could hardly believe what she was telling me, coming on the heels of what you just told me here! It was as if somebody —some angel or something— was sending me physical. ‘real world’ confirmation of what I was receiving in this rather way-out dialogue that we’re having here.
I was so taken aback by what this woman told me, and by the coincidence of it all, that I asked her to write it all down and send it to me. Here’s what she wrote. It’s fascinating story of the near-death experience of one Elizabeth Everitt of the United Kingdom:
‘I was twenty-five years old and for the first time in my hitherto tumultuous life, I felt truly blessed and content. I had met the man of my dreams (after kissing way too many frogs) and I was seven and a half months pregnant with our deeply wanted daughter. I developed a flu-like illness and was admitted to hospital.
‘I realized quickly that I had chicken pox and was horrified because, as fate would have it, I also worked at that hospital as a midwife and I had watched the last three similar cases end up in intensive care. I knew what treatment was needed and I knew that I needed it NOW.
‘In spite of being extremely poorly, I tried to take charge of my own care and harassed unwilling colleagues to take me seriously, but in a black comedy of errors they procrastinated, disbelieved, misdiagnosed, neglected and overdosed me, allowing the chicken pox the opportunity to spread viciously and to infect my lungs.
‘Ever vigilant and observant, my colleagues thought it might be useful to check my oxygen levels after I had turned blue, and there were shocked gasps when the oximeter announced the level at 64%. All hell then broke loose as nobody could understand why I wasn’t already dead.
‘I was hurtled through the hospital to the operating theatre as an anesthetic colleague whispered gravely in my ear. ‘Your blood gasses are disastrous. We will have to deliver your baby to save your life. I’m sorry, do you understand what I’m telling you.’ Apparently, I didn’t say anything, but I remember clearly screaming (obviously in my mind), ‘Of course I bloody know what you’re telling me. I told you that a week ago, you bunch of incompetent morons!’
‘At least ten co-workers swooped down on me in a matter of seconds. They pulled, poked, stabbed and ripped, in frantic preparation for an emergency caesarean. I had never before felt such abject terror or such conviction that ‘this was it.’ Self preservation was so high that I didn’t give a toss when they couldn’t find my baby’s heartbeat. ‘What about me! I’m dying. For God’s sake, help me, please!’ I screamed over and over—again apparently in my mind.
‘The clearly agitated anaesthetist bent down and compassionately whispered, “For God’s sake calm down, you’ll be out in a minute,” and then again as I shed tears of utter desolation,
“and you can stop crying, your mucous membranes are inflamed enough already, without you making it even more difficult to intubate you!” He administered the anaesthetic and assuming that I had already taken effect, announced to everyone that despite how it seemed, there was no rush because the surgeon was “still eating a sandwich…”
‘I came round (although apparently I didn’t) briefly after the operation to find myself being ‘settled’ into intensive care. There were many workers worriedly busying themselves around me, but it was as if they were all in soft focus--all except one, who stood clearly to my left side and was dressed in a slightly outmoded, starched white uniform.
She smiled and spoke to me with a soft, reassuring voice. ‘Now, now, you’re to let these people just get on with it. It’s OK. They know what they’re doing. You’re safe with me. Sleep now.’
‘Relieved that I had made it through the op and reassured by her implacable calm, I allowed myself to go back to ‘sleep.’ Almost immediately I felt pulled into a vortex-type sensation. What the heck was this? As I ebbed through it I was jabbed with dozens of sudden flashes of experiences.
Each flash paused the ride for what seemed like a second and a lifetime at the same time, in one flash I was stabbed, in another I ran over a dog, and in another I was running for my life in a bog-like field with mustard gas burning my lungs, split-second aware of every molecule of my physical body being ripped apart by an explosion.
‘These flashes were not just presented images, they were relived. I could taste, hear, smell, and see everything. I had no conscious recollection of any of this and yet I knew with certainty that every one of these events had at some time, somehow happened to me.’
N : (Hold it. I have to interrupt here. Didn’t you tell me, earlier in this conversation, something about this? When I was asking you what happens when a person dies, didn’t you say something about this?
G : “I did. I said that if you die, and if you belief in reincarnation, you may experience moments from previous lives of which you have no previous conscious memory.”
G : “Elizabeth was having some of this experience on ‘this side’ of death, and some on the other. She was, truly, between two worlds. Had she been fully in the Afterlife during this first part of her experience, she would have experienced no pain or fear or suffering of any kind.”
‘The Rollercoaster rode on, and then as snap fast as it started, it stopped. All sensation left, there was literally nothing. Blackness. Initially, I was relieved. Thank you, thank you. I called out. The fear subsided and I began to weight up my surrounding. Black. Nothing. I waited. Nothing, I whistled, shuffled and hh-hmmed in my mind. Nothing. Panic began to seep in and I began to question.
“What, no bright light, no guide to ease my transition? Where’s my dad? The very least he can do is show up! Oh, come on. NO. Help. Please. What the hell did I do? Am I dead? Where is anyone? Oh, God, no, please. I want to see my baby. What about my baby? Is she dead? PLEASE. I’m begging. I don’t want to die.”
‘And an exhausting discussion began, which seemed to have lasted for days. As I ranted and raved at how unfair, unjust and cruel it was that I was here, wherever the bleep ‘here’ was, she countered my every argument. She challenged my right to live, questioning what made me any more special than anyone else. I was incandescent with rage as I just couldn’t get through to this dense maniac.
‘And then the flicker-book started. You know, just like the book of stick men pictures that you draw in sequential frames and then thumb through to animate it. As it started, I recognized the characters from the movie. This was my life. “Ah, ha!’ I sneered, ‘that old chestnut, I must be dead if my life is flashing before my eyes.’ No response, just the deep sigh and WHAM!
‘I was struck deep down to my soul as I felt the full impact of every frame. They flickered past in an instant and yet I swear that I felt the full force of every single moment not just as if I were reliving it but as if every other soul affected by it were also reliving it through me.
‘These were not the catalogue of moments from my life that I would have compiled given any conscious thought. There were very few momentous, easily recalled events. This was not my airbrushed autobiography.
For much of the time the images ran in date order from birth onwards, but there were times when the events were connected in some way and then the images lurched forwards and backwards in time, giving me the full understanding of the consequences of whatever the thought, action or deed may have been.
‘They were recollections from the full spectrum of emotions, what I would now recognize as moments when I had the opportunity to either show or be shown aspects of divinity. I realized that most often it was not the high drama times of my life that had the most impact.
It was the effect of the seemingly unremarkable events that rippled through time. From the hurt and distress a casual catty comment had made, to the unbridled joy and achievement of riding my bike without stabilizers for the first time.
‘I remember the emotion and truth of each frame as if it is now imprinted on me, but I struggle to remember with any clarity the specifics of the events attached to it. It is as if the physical events lost their significance once their value was understood. As I recollect it now, I never felt judged and I didn’t judge myself—I simply understood that I had seen my true self.
‘Once the flicker-book finished, I was literally exhausted. I still clung to the idea that I had to win the argument, that I had to prove my right to live, and yet the flicker-book had taken almost all of the wind right out of that sail and a desperate desire to hold my child and be with my loved ones was all that I had left to fight with.
‘Even that ardent wish was somehow subdued by the aftermath of the life-review. I tried to argue, but my heart wasn’t in it. Every statement of question was offset by perfect response. Finally I whimpered, ‘You know what . You win. I can’t fight anymore. I have nothing left to give. I give up.’
‘Almost before I had even thought the words, I felt immediate relief. The healing that I had bitterly thought was fruitless flooded into my existence and literally enveloped me in a buffer of unconditional support. It was nurturing reassuring and energizing, and it was as if all those wonderful souls were right there with me, holding my very existence in their arms and keeping it safe.
‘Suddenly, I was swept from that wonderful place into a phenomenal experience. I have no idea how but I experience myself flying over a landscape of snowcapped mountains, vast lakes, forest and grassland. I flew over and past a tribe of Native Americans, unlike anything I have ever seen them pictured or described as. I watched a mother watching her children with such serene pride that it was awe-inspiring and then I flew past them up to the top of an imposing mountain in the distance.
‘Right at the top I came face to face with what I presumed to be a guide, he was a Native American chieftain and as I looked into his well-worn, lined faced and was captured by his eyes, what desperation I had left dissolved. I felt with every fibre of my being that he helped me realise an utterly profound truth but all I can consciously remember is that he told me, ‘You must be patient, but you will be three.’
‘I was told that I had been unconscious for nine days in a semi-natural/semi drug-induced coma. A couple of my nurses told me that I had gone into respiratory arrest twice during that time and needed the full support of the ventilator at those times.
‘Most interesting to me, however, was a period of approximately six hours during which my heart was stuck in an unexpected, dysfunctional rhythm called atrial fibrillation. My heart was beating so fast during that time that it was quite literally flickering, just like my ‘flicker-book,’ This ‘flickering’ neither worsened or improved my physical condition, and it would not respond to any medication given to resolve it.
‘Much to the doctor’s surprise the fibrillation suddenly and seemingly inexplicably resolved itself. At this point, one of the doctors suddenly remembered a fact from a previous case that she had dealt with and started a course of treatment that undoubtedly saved my life.
I believe that once I ‘gave up’ and the healing flooded in, my body allowed itself to respond and vital information was ‘given’ to the medics. That my mind, body and soul were realigning, just as the chieftain had promised—‘You must be patient, but you will be three.’
‘My daughter; Lilie, is very much alive and well, a force of nature no less, and I was watching a TV programme and saw the exact landscape that I had flown over. I investigated where it was filmed and we are going to visit there in August. I have discovered many facts about the area that make me believe that there are people and resources there that will help me to continue the healing process.’