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NDE #1

(1972)

NDE #2

(1985)

NDE #3

(10/2/1987)

NDE #4

(5/28/1995)

LOGUES

Near Death Dialogues

I’ve never been completely satisfied with the term Near Death Experience.  It’s always felt like being a “little bit pregnant” and it seems to me one either is or isn’t…just abouts don’t count.  Prior to the term’s inclusion in the mainstream vernacular, times were tougher for those who’d gone beyond the veil of death and returned to be laughed at (or locked up) when discussing what occurred to them on the otherside of this life.  Least wise, that’s how it played out in the early 1970’s of the american midwest, and the phrase Near Death Experience is a damn sight better than nothin’ at all.  Thankfully, there’s now a conversationally acceptable touchstone to an otherwise totally ignored or completely misunderstood phenomenon which has historically been shared by millions of people all over the globe.

Decades ago no buzzwords existed.  Friends and family suggested I needed psychiatric care, exorcism, or the wisdom to keep my mouth shut and avoid rocking the religious boat.   Chortled concern abounded.  Rather than ignore the expanded reality afforded me, I’ve given voice to the validity of the NDE for over 30 years and been called everything from a whacked out “Son of Satan” to a “Beyonder” for my efforts.  

My narratives are meant to chronicle both sides of the Death Trip...the before and after effects following in it’s wake.  I’ve met many NDErs over the last quarter of a century who confirmed the repercussions of this experience as a being a blessing AND a curse.  I’ve come to reference the difficulties encountered upon one’s return from the otherworlds as the dark side of the LIGHT, or Post Traumatic Death Disorder, because it hasn’t always been rainbows, lollipops and roses...not by a long shot.  Especially is this true when one takes into consideration the returnee has become imbued, in general, with an expanded empathetic response.

I doubt if any of us would take our individual life after death sojourns back or wish they never happened at all.  Still, there’s been dues to pay along the way.  Finding some manner of balance in this world after having intimate contact with multiple dimensions can result in difficulty relating in any of ‘em.  I've decided to share my journals with those who endure the aftermath of the death trip as well as interested parties who wonder WHY the NDEr tends toward radical change as a result of having had one.

I returned from the LIGHT of my initial NDE with a glorious bang which never fizzled, yet felt dampened in the shadows of what is viewed as everyday reality .  As mentioned, I grew up in a time and place where the notion of a life after death trip was considered insane in some quarters and blasphemy in others.   According to the existent hierarchy, it was perfectly acceptable to “believe, have faith, or hope fore,” but little room existed for those who claimed direct experience of Soul’s immortality because this stepped on far too many authoritative toes   Amidst all this, I felt an unquenchable drive to delve deeper into the mysteries of LIFE as part of the responsibility for having been gifted with an after death experience in the first place.  I’ve longed, sometimes desperately, to unravel its purpose and share what part I might contribute to the whole.  It hasn’t always been a pretty sight, nor has it been boring.

Once one crosses the threshold of death’s door, nothing can remain the same.   The core has been breeched and, by most accounts, an entirely different set of priorities emplaced.   For me, the thought of attending law school became far less important than hunkering in a wood with Thoreau or backpackin’ down the turnpike.  Metaphysics became more intriguing than making money and archeology offered a window of wonder that made vacation an expedition.  Club Med held little charm. 

Ya see, I figured if I couldn’t garner an acceptance for the Near Death Experience in the circles of philosophy prevailing in the midwest of the 1970’s, then I’d expand the ripple’s radius and go lookin’ elsewhere---and so I have.  I feel a need to seek out others, from various walks of life, and determine how their cultures’ might interpret/share/utilize the benefits of this event horizon.  It’s been an indigenous trip taking me places I’d never have gone.  From the Blue Mountains of Jamaica to the jungles of the Yucatan...from Hawaiian Oracle to Hotevilla Mesa and a White Buffalo Calf born in Janesville Wisconsin...from a jail cell in the Manistee Forest to wishing well the streams of the Green Mountains...and more...and always, ALWAYS the LIGHT of the NDE; a beacon allowing me to get back up when I’ve been knocked down...and keep on keepin’ on.

I’ve had several Near Death Experiences.  The first of these was to take place in early 1972, followed by others in ‘85 and ‘87 and, again, in May of ‘95.  Each has been unique unto itself and, I’ve come to believe, builds upon one another in a series.  What follows on this website is an attempt at puttin' the pieces of the puzzle together.  At least, my portion of the pie and I'd like to begin by relating what happened on old Highway 50 while cuttin' across the Sevier Desert of South Utah on October 2, 1987.

It's been a struggle to contain my Experiences with a beginning, middle, and end.  I always hit an impasse when trying to pare down this story to fit between the covers of a book.  Much of what I've written appears on the Internet in response to posts and emails, so it is a natural progression to catalogue them here in cyberspace.  In an effort to organize the copious material I've composed in the last eight years, I needed a launch point for this website and decided to group the text according to topic; it seemed as good a place as any to start...

I wrote the essentials of this recap (The OUTLANDS) some years ago during a "getting to know you" session in a Near Death NewsGroup on the internet.  The Heart of what occurred remains as intact as when first submitted and I’ll serve it up as is.

       INTEND INTENT
          LOVE LOVE
                   M