Death, freedom, and the Middle World
I raced to the ER this morning. I didn’t know if I would make it. I dialed 911 on my phone, but didn’t press “Call.” I drove. Fast. If a policeman was going to give me a ticket, he’d have to do it at the hospital.
“Just ten minutes,” I said to myself. “Hang on.”
A few more turns and I thought, “Just five more minutes, you’re almost there. Stay conscious. Hang on.”
I made it to the ER. I opened the car door and vomited in the parking lot.
They got me in fast. Laying in the bed I thought this might be it. “10/9/15,” I thought; not a bad day to die.
I didn’t die.
Late in the day they released me. I came home, sat in my recliner, tried to meditate, but passed out from exhaustion.
The next thing I knew, I couldn’t wake up. I was in the Middle World, the place that for me is in between “Here” and “There,” wherever There is.
More accurately, at first I couldn’t wake up, and then I didn’t want to wake up. I played with the area, toyed with it. Various visions came up, and I remember them all. Finally I had to go to the bathroom bad enough that I willed myself to wake up. I was sitting in the recliner. I checked my hands to verify that I was really awake. I was.
I sat in the bathroom. “I could have died today,” I thought. I expected to die. I had no expectation of making it out of the ER.
I didn’t call anyone. I didn’t want anyone to worry, and I didn’t want to talk to them, to explain what was going on. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but I assumed the doctors would call them after I was dead.
In the ER I forced myself to be present and pay attention to each moment. “If this is it,” I thought, “I need to be here right now.” A young child down the hall to the right screamed. Someone a few doors down to the left didn’t know why they were in the ER. They were told, “Do you remember being angry? You got violent, and your family called 911. You’re in the hospital.” They didn’t remember any of it.
Sitting in my bathroom I felt groggy, but free, and aware. For now I have dodged another bullet, used another life. “I’m alive now, but I could also have been dead.” In movies like “V for Vendetta” they say that near-death is liberating, and it is. I breathed, still paying attention to the moment. I am still alive, and I am aware.
I thought about the Middle World. “Why can I do this on the recliner, but not in bed?”, I thought. The only answer I can come up with is that I can’t breathe right in bed. Sitting upright in the recliner I can breathe. In the Middle World I heard myself breathing, but I wasn’t snoring. So it’s either the breathing, or that the recliner is uncomfortable enough that I can’t fall asleep deeply, so I can go back and forth between the two worlds, with my memory intact.
It’s uncomfortable, but I need to explore this. I don’t know much time is left.
Two nights later (Sunday night), I slept on the recliner again for a little while, and had something of a “fake OBE.” What happened was that I woke up in a parallel universe, where I’m in an apartment with a layout similar to the current apartment, but it’s different. In that parallel universe I’m on a different recliner in that different apartment, thinking I’m asleep, or falling asleep, and also thinking that I can spawn an OBE from this place. So I do various things to try to have an OBE, including trying to focus my awareness outside of my physical body, in an effort to induce an OBE.
Eventually the OBE happens, but is it real? My first reaction is to say that I doubt it, because I know what happened. I knew my bedroom window was open, so once the OBE started I moved through the apartment to the bedroom and then tried to go out through the bedroom window. Unfortunately I got “stuck” in the screen window, fought with that briefly, and then woke up.
Only when I woke up back here in the recliner did I realize the whole “parallel universe” thing. Until that moment I thought that everything that happened during this time had happened in this apartment, but it didn’t.
So, what’s real and what isn’t? Right now I don’t know. As I’ve mentioned many times before, that’s why I do things like the card test. That’s the only way I can be sure that all of this isn’t one big dream wrapped in another, etc.