Life Is Beautiful: Part VIII.

Life Is Beautiful

Part VIII: The Day I Died [1],[2]

“For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one”

—Khalil Gibran

I was 9 years old when I died—the first time. You can blame it on my passion for science.

How It Happened

It was a blustery, snow-packed winter day in my home town, Elizabeth, New Jersey—Tuesday, January 22, 1952, a date I will never forget. I stayed home from school with a cold. Before my father left for work, he told me that I could not play in the small chemistry lab I had set up in the cellar of the two-family home owned by my grandparents. They were kind enough to let us live in one of the apartments and gave us a good deal on rent, even though Mom and Dad were well on their way to birthing 10 noisy children, I being the oldest.

My father wanted me to become a doctor when I eventually chose a profession. I guess when you grow up with no money you want your children to do well. He would often bring me to visit doctors even when I wasn’t sick, thinking they just might inspire me.

But I had no interest in being a physician, so hoping to change my mind he bought me a chemistry set for my ninth Christmas. At 9 years of age, I had no idea what chemistry was. But after performing some of the experiments outlined in that Gilbert Chemistry Set booklet, I became intrigued with all of the “products” I could make ink, glue, cosmetics, soap, and many other practical things [See Figure 1]. So, I set up a small lab in our cellar and with any money that came my way, I would buy supplies for my lab. I eventually made some products such as inks and cosmetics that I packaged and sold in the neighborhood. That was the beginnings of a lifelong love a air with entrepreneurship.

As that Tuesday afternoon wore on, I became bored and begged my mom to go down and work in my lab.

“Your father said absolutely no,” was her response.

So, I finally convinced her to allow me to bring some of my equipment and chemicals up to the kitchen and work there as she prepared dinner and simultaneously ironed clothes for the family. In the course of the afternoon, I did several experiments as Mom put up with yucky odors from my chemistry that permeated the kitchen as she prepared garlic-laced tomato sauce for that evening’s pasta. But not even garlic could camou age the aromas I created as byproducts of my childhood alchemy.

At one point, I was formulating a potent spot remover that I wanted to present to Mom for those difficult-to-remove stains we kids constantly attracted to our clothes. I had trouble opening a tube filled with a strong bleaching chemical called calcium hypochlorite. The corked tube had been tightly sealed by the manufacturer with a cellulose plastic coating. I pulled and pulled with all of my might. And as best as I can remember, the cork popped off and the ingredients, which apparently had been vacuum-packed, exploded with the great force of a white toxic cloud, into my face as air rushed into the tube and displaced the vacuum.

It temporarily blinded me and filled my nose and throat with a fine white powder of the poisonous substance. Fortunately, my mom was there and immediately flushed my eyes and then had me drink a glass of water, which I immediately regurgitated. Later, the doctors would tell us that her quick actions saved me from going blind and from the toxic effects of the calcium hypochlorite.

I could barely stand up. Mom was crying and as all good Sicilian mothers do in times like this, she was simultaneously praying rapidly and incessantly to the Blessed Mother for help.

After Effects

We didn’t own a car, so she immediately called Elizabeth General Hospital for an ambulance. Unfortunately, none was available in the entire city. At 3:45 p.m. American Airlines Flight 6780, a twin-prop Convair 240 from Syracuse, New York, intent on landing at Newark Airport, crashed into a home adjacent to the Elizabeth River, missing Battin High School by only a few feet. Every available ambulance in the area was at the crash scene. Fortunately, my Aunt Mary who owned a car lived close by. She drove us to the emergency room at Elizabeth General Hospital, where there was extreme chaos because of the plane crash. But I was fortunate to receive treatment and then being released. However, much more challenging times were still to come. The next day, whether caused by the toxin or not, no one would ever say, my appendix burst in my stomach leading to a severe case of deadly peritonitis and eventually lethal sepsis, or blood poisoning. I was given very little chance for survival. Delirious with high fever for several days, I often had to be put on an ice bed to lower my temperature.

On day seven, for two long minutes, my heart stopped and shortly thereafter my brain signal went into “flat line”, namely, no signal at all. I saw myself, whatever I can call “myself” rising above my physical body [See Figure 2]. I saw two doctors trying to revive me and Mom and Dad sitting close by, Mom crying profusely. Although I didn’t want her to suffer like that, I felt no sorrow and just accepted that this was the way things were suppose to be. I continued to rise through the ceiling and out of the hospital. I felt no fear. In fact, I felt complete calm and wasn’t worried in the least.

Very quickly, I entered a large dark tunnel and could see a bright light at the end. I was drawn towards the light. It felt warm and blissful beyond what any words can describe. I kept moving towards the light and as I did, it grew brighter and the bliss within me increased. I just wanted to be there with the light—forever.

Suddenly, I saw a man coming towards me. He was tall, husky, bald and well-dressed in clothes from the 1920s or earlier. He had a wonderful smile and as we met, we communicated with thoughts, not speech.

He said, “High, Jimmy.”

I responded, “Who are you? Do I know you?”

“Well, I know all about you; but I died before you were born.”

And then I realized from photos I had seen, “Are you my grandfather, Dad’s father?”

“Yes, I am, and it’s so wonderful to meet you. But we don’t have much time. I’m here to tell you that you must go back.”

“But I don’t want to go back.”

“You must. You have a long life ahead of you in which you will be called upon to do some things that are important for your life’s path and for others.”

Before I knew it, and to my dismay, I was floating back down the tunnel away from my grandfather and the light. I reunited with my physical body and sometime later awoke to the happy tears of Mom and Dad.

“Dad you’ll never guess who I met. I met your dad, my grandfather.” Mom and Dad were so glad I was “back” they just let my comment fly as if it were a dream. Later that evening, when my surgeon, Dr. Spivak—probably of Czech ancestry—visited with me, I told him what happened. He said it was just a dream and not to make too much of it. And for most of my life, I did not talk about it, whether from fear of ridicule for spreading paranormal nonsense, or perhaps just writing it o as a dream as Dr. Spivak suggested.

Implications

Years later, I would find out that I had a Near-Death-Experience, a so-called NDE. One of the best books on the subject, Proof of Heaven— A Neurosurgeon’s Journey Into The Afterlife, was published in 2012, written by a world-renowned Harvard University neurosurgeon, Dr. Eben Alexander. I highly recommend it. He was not a religious man nor did he believe in an afterlife—that is until he contracted a serious blood disorder, went into a comma and briefly “died” before a miraculous recovery.

How common are NDEs?

• A 1992 a Gallop poll concluded that 13 million Americans had experienced an NDE.
• A 2011 study of the German population showed that 4 percent of the people experienced an NDE.
• A 2005 survey of American doctors said that based on their case experiences, 59 percent believe in some form of afterlife.
• An Australian study of NDErs found that 70 percent describe their experience as spiritual and not religious.

The Role of Consciousness

So what does this all mean for you; at least for your consideration and contemplation? One of the first things that I concluded is that the age- old“Hard Problem”in neuropsychology is solved. Namely, does our mind create consciousness or does consciousness create our mind? I, as many other scientists are beginning to do as well, conclude it is the latter—Consciousness creates your mind [See Figure 3]. The reason is simple. In an NDE, not only is your heart not working, but neither is your brain, both exhibit a “flat line” on the vitals monitor. Therefore, at that moment the brain is nonfunctioning. It’s dead. Yet, at that same moment the patient perceives actual events occuring in their five-sense, three-dimensional world, many of which for numerous NDEs have been shown to be accurate and correct.

In my studies over several decades, I have come to the following conclusions.[3]

• There is a Spiritual World which is not based on any organized religion, but is certainly the realm of consciousness, which is in nite and eternal.
• This realm of consciousness can be divided into three parts which are really not “parts” but are One: Cosmic Consciousness, which a religious person might call God; Collective Consciousness, which is the overlap of the consciousness of all beings and material things; and Personal Consciousness, which is consciousness associated with a particular person or thing.
• Although quantum physicists are nally observing and agreeing to the importance of consciousness in our three-dimensional world, the rules, axioms and theorems of how things work in true reality, namely the realm of consciousness, are just being discovered and understood and are the makings of a new eld of science called Spiritual Physics. Just as classical Newtonian physics morphed into quantum physics, so it is that quantum physics will transition to spiritual physics.

If you accept this perspective then you can look forward to an eternal life of your true reality, your Personal Consciousness and recognize that your stay here on planet Earth is a very, very brief pit-stop while you take part in physical evolution, but more important, in the evolution of Cosmic Consciousness.

Sat, Chit, Ananda! Enjoy your journey, make a difference!

 

---

[1] EDITOR’S COMMENT—This is the eighth article in a series based on the author’s book, “Life Is Beautiful: 12 Universal Rules,” Waterfront Press, Cardiff California.

[2]  The author may be reached at Jim@ChateauMcely.Com.