All this time [thus while observing the doctor and the nurse after a difficult delivery] she knew that behind her was a glorious, park-like landscape shining in the brightest colors, and in particular an emerald green meadow with short grass, which sloped gently upwards beyond a wrought-iron gate leading into the park. It was spring, and little gay flowers such as she had never seen before were scattered about in the grass. The whole demesne [domain] sparkled in the sunlight, and all the colors were of an indescribable splendor. The sloping meadow was flanked on both sides by dark green trees. It gave her the impression of a clearing in the forest, never yet trodden by the foot of man. “I knew that this was the entrance to another world, and that if I turned round to gaze at the picture directly, I should feel tempted to go in at the gate, and thus step out of life.” She did not actually see this landscape, as her back was turned to it, but she knew it was there. She felt there was nothing to stop her from entering in through the gate. She only knew that she would turn back to her body and would not die.
To this I would add by way of observation that some people report ability to see in all directions, thus all around the circle of which they form the center—even when their attention is focused in one direction only—forward, whatever that means in this context.
Those who “travel” report passing through what many call a tunnel at the end of which appears the proverbial light; the light signals the destination; when it is reached it unfolds as a scene often quite similar to the one described above. Here people become visible and receive Mary (our stand-in) as she arrives. Among them often, but not always, is someone often described as a “luminous being” from whom benevolence radiates. Mary finds it easy to communicate with those who thus receive her; if she is average, she will report that the communication is something other than what we call speech in ordinary life—but that it functions in the same way; it is a kind of thought-exchange.
The experiences reported are varied, but a process of decision soon becomes the center of focus. Should the self continue into this new reality or should it, instead, return to ordinary life? The choice is sometimes made by the self. The self, if left to choose, decides to return; if it doesn’t we obviously wouldn’t hear about the experience at all. Interestingly enough, the lady who is the subject of C.G. Jung’s report also ends on a decision—but the decision is already made. In contrast to such situations, sometimes the luminous figure or another figure of authority (a relative) tells the self that its time to go hasn’t arrived yet. Mary must go back. In many cases the person resists this judgment and wishes to stay—but cannot. The NDE rapidly ends after the decision is made or communicated. Mary next reports awakening at the hospital, at the scene of the mishap, or in some other setting linked to the event of trauma that triggered the NDE.
Today I want to focus narrowly at two aspects of this second phase, those I’ve highlighted already: (1) the self sees another world and there is able to communicate with entities whereas, in the worldly phase, it is not; and (2) the chief content of this phase is a decision which evidently has two possible outcomes.
The world that Mary sees is evidently a border area of another region. All reporters think that they are in another world. The images in which this is expressed vary but have the essential meaning, as Raymond Moody puts it in his book, of a “border or limit.” The scene will include a fence, a door, a body of water, a mist—or a gate, as in the case that Jung relates. The qualitative difference between our dimension and that one is signaled by emphasizing its beauty, its strangeness (“flowers … she had never seen before”), unusual architecture, and intensity of light or color. The presence of departed relatives, whom Mary recognizes, suggests that they have certainly not disappeared forever, for here they are; the ability to communicate with them suggests that, in her present disembodied form, Mary is better adapted to that world than the one she left behind.
The vision of that world is limited. And the chief reason for that seems to be precisely that the person reporting the experience did not penetrate deeply into that world but remained, throughout, in the, well, border zone. Why there? We discover the reason for that in the “content” of this encounter. Its aim is to decide which way Mary should proceed. A decision must be reached. And, evidently—at least in many cases—the decision could go either way. Return is the outcome--otherwise we'd know nothing about it.
I will leave commentary on this phase for another posting and conclude here simply by saying that in the aggregate, these accounts are coherent. They appear to depict a natural process of transition; it begins when the body seems to fail. The self is already “competent” to continue in that world; it can certainly communicate with the dead, if not the living; it meets a sample of the “population” that is at home “over there.” In NDE cases, self-evidently (because the people later are revived) the bodily functions are only temporarily damaged; therefore a choice remains.
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