What happens to us at the time of clinical death? This question torments many people living on Earth. Some people who have experienced clinical death talk about tunnels, dark or with light at the end, others see themselves hovering over their own bodies, others are surrounded by angels and long-gone relatives, and still others do not see anything. I want to share a story told to me by my friend Pavel, who survived clinical death (there is medical documentary evidence). Since the event did not happen to me, I will continue from the first person.
- You know that I grew up, like you, in the Soviet Union, was brought up in the spirit of atheism, and my parents were far from supernatural. I myself did not believe in God or in the devil, I believed that man was the crown of nature and counted only on his own strength. But…. It happened to me at the end of May 2005. I slept badly at night, my brain replaying fragments from my childhood and adolescence. These were pleasant memories, but somehow they made me wake up in a cold sweat, with a rapid heartbeat. The chest pressed, the hands were filled with lead, and a chilling animal fear appeared inside. Only closer to morning I managed to forget and plunge into a deep sleep. I got up, as usual, at 7 am, went to the kitchen to drink water and put on the kettle. Suddenly there was a severe pain in the chest, I caught my breath, my hands began to go numb, and I, gasping for air, collapsed to the floor. Farther,like in a fog: doctors, stretchers, ambulance, artificial respiration apparatus, sharp pain throughout the body and darkness….
I woke up in a huge, sun-drenched meadow. I am standing in the middle of the meadow, around the grass, in front of you can see a forest, not far from a village. I don't see her, but I know that. Somewhere inside me, in my soul, this is knowledge. The sky is blue-blue, not a cloud, warm, sunny, but the sun does not blind the eyes, does not fry. The birds sing, but in the body there is lightness, no fear, no pain, even some kind of weightlessness. Peace of mind in my soul. I look at myself and see: I am standing in Russian clothes of the 15-16th century. The shirt on my knees is snow-white, with a red pattern: there are different ducks, flowers. The belt is crimson with bells, the ports are wide, dark, and bast shoes are on their feet. Behind the belt - a woolen hat. I don't see my face, I touched it with my hands, where I was cleanly shaved - a beard. Not big, really. The air is intoxicating and soothing, not like in the city…. So I’m standing, I closed my eyes, I can’t breathe.
Suddenly I hear someone calling by name:
- Pasha, Pasha!
I don't even hear it, but I kind of feel like telepathy or something. I opened my eyes, and in front of me, fifty meters, is my grandmother, who died five years ago. Although the distance is great, but as if we were standing next to. My grandmother, 20 years younger, stands in her favorite dressing gown, and I felt such homeliness and warmth and love that I cannot describe. I wanted to cuddle up to my grandmother, as in childhood, to hug, to feel that love…. So I ran to meet her. I run, but the distance does not decrease, but it seems to become more. And my grandmother is standing, smiling and in my head the words:
- Pasha, Pasha!
Then it became hard to run, my legs get stuck, as if everything around was clouded in clay and fog. Grandma's voice was gone. I stopped, and I heard another voice soothing:
Promotional video:
- It's too early for you, you have to wait!
Suddenly, as if in a kaleidoscope, everything spun, as if I was crushed by the press, weakness, incomprehensible pain. I open my eyes: I’m in intensive care, my hands are in droppers, a mask on my face….
Well, and then I got better, they transferred me to the ward, then they discharged me, but in the discharge they indicated that I had the moment of clinical death within 2 minutes 55 seconds. Only I know - it was not death, but a transition to another life. After this incident, I often began to see dreams that come true, and I know different situations in advance, how they will end. And I also believed in God, and I'm not afraid of death, as before. It's better for me….
Author: Maxim Arestov