During the time I was spiritually absent from my body (after the overdose), the places I visited were fascinating, and without doubt life changing. The one thing I felt was an incredible sense of calm. I described it earlier as "nothingness"; since my last blog I realise that this sensation requires explanation. It was a feeling of total belonging to everywhere, everything, kind of being a part of all that exists, without actually having a physical connection. It was like finding (and at the same time, me being) the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle; once it was in place, and thus completing the picture, everything became understandable; to simplify this, like knowing that two plus two was obviously four! I could see why we were going through what we had to experience in our many lives, and where the journey ended. And what we would become at that destination!
During that moment, at the same time, I saw my father in tears after being told what had happened to me; I wanted to comfort him, and ask him to stop blaming himself. I wanted to tell him how beautiful was the place I was in. I wanted him to be there with me... I was everywhere all at the same time. Interestingly, in later years when the Hubble space telescope began beaming back its amazing photographs, I had an incredible feeling of deja vu. I am still astonished by these images, while at the same time, I view them in the same way that one would feel if they were photographs of a beautiful garden you'd created behind your house. Creationism does exist, but it's far bigger than any religion could lay claim to...
I look back over this post as it appears so far, and realise that it is impossible to put into words that moment of my life. There was no sense of time, the journey could have been measured in seconds, or thousands of "light years"!
I met only one person; she was the same lady who I saw sitting at the right side edge of the bottom of my bed when I was very ill at the age of three or four. At that time, I asked my mother, who was also present in the room, who this beautiful, kind, loving lady in white was; my mother asked, "who are you talking about?". There was nobody there, at least as far as she could see. I can still recall the event, my bedroom was dark with just a faint glow of the street lights illuminating the curtains. Over the years, my mother and I have discussed that moment. She has often asked me to describe this lady. All I can tell you is that she was wearing a long white robe; she had long fair hair and a youngish face, maybe early twenties. She had her hands clasped together in her lap, and a feeling of incredible warmth and love. I will never forget her smile; it was full of love and knowing. I have only had that feeling of "oneness" from one other person in my life, and without doubt she was/is my soulmate, but she's gone from my current life now. We will meet again for sure, as we have done in our many lives before.
Back in time to the morning following my attempted suicide; after I observed Sergeant Cutler enter my room, and had experienced this feeling of "nothingness", I was with the lady in white; she had my head in her lap, gently stroking my hair. She smiled and looked lovingly down at me and sent a thought into my head (she didn't say it vocally, because I have never seen her speak) - "Peter... yes, this is a beautiful place. But you have to go back to your life now, there are so many things you have to learn"....
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