Eyes of an Angel Page 4

  Through the fog of drowsiness I became aware of a distant siren, and my consciousness again fought for control. In the distance, headlights and flashing red lights were approaching. Soon a police car roared into the field beside me. Two Mounties sprinted from the car, their flashlights blazing into my eyes.

  I motioned in the direction of Mervin's body. The policemen checked his and Gerald's body, assuring me an ambulance was on its way and everything would be okay. Helping me to my feet, they walked me to the warm police car. It was then that I realized I had lost my shoes. My nearly frozen feet felt like blunt stubs.

  I sat by myself in the back of the police car trying to warm up. Shaking, my body was numb with hypothermia and I couldn't keep my eyes open. One of the policemen opened the back door of the car and slipped in beside me. He kept telling me to try and stay awake, but I faded in and out of consciousness.

  When the ambulance finally arrived, the medics loaded my friends and sped off toward the hospital. I rode in the back of the police car and drifted into sleep.

  The abrupt sound of a siren rising to life startled me awake as we neared the emergency entrance of the hospital. A doctor and a nurse waiting with a stretcher wheeled me into the emergency room. Then, after taking numerous X-rays, they began to work on me. They seemed to be concentrating on the right side of my head, which up until then had been feeling numb. I could feel the bite of a needle as the anesthetic was injected. Soon, I could no longer keep my eyes open and the beckoning darkness crept over me. It would be two days before I regained consciousness.

  When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself in a bright room, utterly confused. My head felt like it was about to explode. Reaching up to scratch my brow, I discovered that with the exception of my nose, mouth, and left eye, my head was wrapped in bandages.

  I tried to sit up, but such a pain shot through the left side of my body that the room began to spin and I collapsed back onto the bed. Every inch of me seemed to hurt. I was becoming more panicked by the moment; I had no idea where I was or what had happened to me.

  Soon a nurse entered. Noticing I was conscious, she sprinted off to fetch a doctor. The physician told me about the car accident and assured me that my two friends were okay. Gerald had suffered a smashed pelvis and a concussion, while Mervin's skull had been cracked. He told me that I was the only one conscious when they brought us in. Apparently, after the accident, I had crawled to the road and flagged down a passing car. I remembered nothing.

  The doctor filled me in on my injuries. I had a ruptured left kidney, a cracked skull, two cracked ribs, a bruised lung, and my right ear had been nearly severed.

  Over the next few days, memories of the accident slowly began to return, but my recollection of the two days leading up to the accident was gone. For some unknown reason it would take several more months before I had any recall of that lost time.

  Recovery was a long and painful process. Physical activity was a struggle, and much of my life had to be put on hold.

  This close call with fate only seemed to reinforce some of the philosophical doubts I had been harboring since my early teens when I began to question the existence of God. I had now been involved in a serious accident. I had been unconscious for a long time, but not once did I have an experience of any kind that might lead me to believe there was a God. One minute I was alive and well, and the next minute I was gone. It was like I had ceased to exist for that period of time. There was no conscious awareness of anything. In my mind, the concept of death became an act of surrender to nonexistence....

  Eventually I healed and returned to normal teenage life.

  My brother and I could hardly wait to finish school and leave the farm, but strangely, when that day finally arrived, we did not leave without some degree of sadness.

  A short time later I began dating a girl I had known in high school. She was everything I dreamed of and I fell madly in love. There was nothing I wanted more than to spend the rest of my life with her. But life, I had found, sometimes deals out harsh realities. One day she told me she needed to “find herself” and walked out the door.

  Devastated, I couldn't imagine how life could continue, but somehow it did. I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself, and then at some point I vowed, at least subconsciously, that I would never let anyone hurt me that way again. And the walls around my heart grew ever thicker.

  For a couple of years after leaving home, I drifted around, much the same as many kids in the 1970s. I worked at a number of jobs until I woke up one morning from a vivid dream and knew that I would become a radio announcer. This was an era of hippies, war protests, and most of all, rock and roll music. I couldn't imagine a better way to make a living.

  The top rock station around was CKOM. I dropped in to see the manager and told him I wanted to be a radio announcer. After quickly determining that I had neither experience nor training, he said they had no openings and sent me on my way.

  Talk about feeling dejected. I couldn't believe he had turned me down. It had been so clear in my dream.

  A few weeks later, I stopped by to see the manager again. This time my pleading seemed more like begging. I heard myself offering to work in the station for free. I would be available day or night, I said. All they had to do was teach me about radio.

  I must have been sufficiently pathetic in my pleading, because he thought about it for a moment, and was in the middle of saying, “I'm sorry,” when he unexpectedly stopped, stuck out his hand and said, “Okay, I like your guts. You've got yourself a deal.”

  I loved radio from the start. Spending almost every available moment at the station, I filled my end of the bargain. Filing record albums, producing commercials, newscasts, and generally anything they wanted me to do, I learned all I could about broadcasting. Everything went so well that within a few months I was offered a position as a disc jockey. For me, it was a job made in Heaven. I couldn't believe they were paying me to do something so enjoyable.

  A couple of years later, the love of a woman would again enter my life. Four years my junior, she was just a year out of high school, but carried herself with the grace, charm, and elegance of a mature woman. Candace was pretty, intelligent, witty, she made me laugh, and most of all she loved me. Our romance intensified, and a year later we were married.

  For the next eight years I gave everything I could to my career. In order to advance I moved on to larger radio and television markets. Candace, a banker, happily followed me from city to city. Eventually we grew tired of the hectic pace and decided to make some changes in our lives. I said goodbye to broadcasting, bought a small insurance brokerage, and we settled down to raise a family.

  Normally, what we understand about ourselves becomes less of a puzzle as we age. But little did I know that up to that point in my life, things were never entirely within my control. So much of my life had been guided and assisted, preparing me for the life-changing experiences still to come, experiences that would rock my world and challenge even my most basic concepts of reality.

  This brings me again to the conscious beginning of my life's intended journey that began when I found myself floating near the ceiling of my bedroom. Virtually overnight my understanding of the world had been obliterated. It was, however, only the beginning of a long search for the ultimate truth and meaning of life.

  3

  Search for Truth

  In days of science and truth unclear

  Man and religion fraught with fear

  Purpose and destiny remain obscured

  Life without meaning long endured

  In the aftermath of my first out-of-body experience, I became obsessed with finding even the slightest bit of information that would enlighten me on the cause of the phenomenon. It had been the most fantastic thing that had ever happened to me and I desperately wanted to have the experience again. To the exclusion of almost everything else, I pursued this goal with a religious fervor.

  The folks at the public library must have wondered about the
volume of metaphysical books that I began borrowing. I read voraciously, and spent the rest of my free time trying to go out-of-body. Several books offered methods to achieve the necessary altered state. I would spend hours lying in bed, trying to reproduce the vibrations that seemed necessary for me to escape my body.

  The process, however, became frustrating. The more I learned, the more I yearned to have another out-of-body experience. I prayed and I begged, but to no avail; it seemed like it was not meant to be. More than two months had passed since that first experience and I didn't seem to be any closer to my goal. It occurred to me that maybe I was trying too hard, so for several days I tried to not even think about it. But there was no escaping my obsession with spiritual ecstasy, and it wasn't long before I was back at it.

  Then one night, out of the blue, it happened. I had been trying to meditate my way into an altered state. Dozing off for what seemed like just seconds, I abruptly awoke to powerful vibrations coursing through my body. My lower torso and legs were numb and heavy.

  Excited by this development, I knew I had to be careful. I didn't want to risk losing the vibrational state and ruining the experience. With effort I tried to calm my mind and maintain control. The shuddering intensity of the vibrations surprised me. I didn't recall them being as choppy and strong in my previous experience. The sensations became so jarring and uncomfortable I concentrated on mentally speeding them up as a possible solution. It worked! Within moments the vibrations smoothed into a delightfully energizing wave. In my head, a high-pitched sound began to slowly intensify into a sharp oscillating tone. There was something hauntingly familiar about it; it consumed my thoughts. For a while it was as if nothing else existed.

  My mind drifting, I had to remind myself of my goal. I sorted through all the possible things I could do after separation from my body. Opening my eyes, I glanced about the bedroom and found that my vision swept through the ceiling and into the night sky as it had during my first experience.

  An ominous feeling swept through me. It was the unmistakable sensation that I was not alone. A chill crept up my spine. Sparks of energy invaded my senses. They were all around my room! Things. Beings. Whatever they were. I felt them everywhere. Frantically I fought to overcome the fear building inside me, but it was useless. My panic turned to terror. I wasn't ready for this. As much as I wanted to leave my body again, there was no way I could force myself to deal with this unknown horror.

  Straining against the suffocating paralysis, I forced my legs to move and then my head. In an instant the spell was broken. The vibrations, along with the things or beings, disappeared.

  Angry with myself, I sat up in bed. This was the opportunity I had been praying for. This was what I wanted to experience more than anything else in the world, and I had let it slip by. How could I have allowed my fear to get the best of me? I vowed never to let it happen again.

  Insatiably, I read anything to do with spirituality. From the biblical teachings of Christianity to Hinduism and Buddhism, I consumed it all. Robert Monroe's books were always a comfort. He had been through it all, overcame his fear, and went on to explore the spirit worlds. I noted his and other writers' assurances that there was no reason for fear. They claimed that in our astral or soul bodies, we are pure, indestructible energy. Nothing in the ethereal realms could harm us.

  Some authors recommended offering a prayer for protection before attempting astral travel. Robert Monroe had developed a prayer-like affirmation for students attempting to learn out-of-body travel. The affirmation apparently worked well in allaying the debilitating fear many students faced. Much like a security blanket, I found the affirmation a great help. I memorized it, and used it religiously before every subsequent attempt.

  I am more than my physical body. Because I am more than physical matter, I can perceive that which is greater than the physical world. Therefore, I deeply desire to expand, to experience, to know, to understand, to control, and to use such greater energies and energy systems as may be beneficial and constructive to me and to those who follow me. Also, I deeply desire the help and cooperation, the assistance, the understanding of those individuals whose wisdom, development, and experience is equal to or greater than my own. I ask their guidance and protection from any influence or any source that might provide me with less than my stated desires. (Reprinted by permission of The Monroe Institute.)

  Armed with these words and assurances that nothing could harm me, I knew that the real test of my resolve would come only if I could recreate the necessary conditions to achieve an out-of-body state.

  Over the following month, I spent at least an hour each night meditating and experimenting with some of Monroe's methods, but nothing seemed to work. The process was frustrating. Night after night, I managed to reach a certain degree of energy and vibration, but failed to carry it to the required intensity. The best I had been able to achieve was a deep relaxation which, unfortunately, usually resulted in my falling asleep. I began to worry that I might never be able to reproduce the experience. Then, one night, without warning, it happened again.

  I had gone to bed early, quickly falling into a deep sleep. After about an hour and a half, I jerked awake as intense vibrations coursed through my body. Every molecule of my being seemed to be buzzing with electricity. A high-pitched squeal resonated in my ears.

  I was ecstatic. This was what I had been working for! This time fear would not stop me. I was in such a hurry to make it happen that I even forgot to offer my prayer for protection. I simply thought “Up,” and in an instant, I was floating near the ceiling of my bedroom.

  It was almost too fast. A momentary feeling of disappointment came over me. I hadn't experienced the increase in vibration or the elation of pulling away from my body. I had just transported instantly to the ceiling.

  Below me in the bed lay my body. Mesmerized, I studied the sleeping form. It seemed so odd to be doing this. I felt compassion and gratitude towards this body that had served me well for so many years. The blankets had slipped down to just above my waist, and it looked like I might be chilly. My wife was asleep on her right side, with her left arm draped across my chest.

  I thought about the many years Candace and I had been together and our constant disagreement over what the temperature in the house should be. She preferred the bedroom cool at night, while I liked it a bit warmer. It had been warm enough when I got into bed, but as usual, it appeared that sometime during the night she had turned down the thermostat and opened a window. I turned to my right. Sure enough, a cool breeze rustled the curtains in front of the open window.

  I remembered why I liked to be warm at night. There were far too many vivid childhood memories of winter nights when the fire in the woodstove, the only source of heat in our house, had gone out. Often, after nights like that, my brother and I would wake up, clinging to each other like puppies trying to keep warm. These were things I didn't want to experience again, but they were far removed from the life my wife enjoyed while growing up in the city.

  I had to pull myself away from my musings. It might not be long before I would have to return to my body. With increasing excitement, I was ready for a new adventure. Having decided to first try a tour through the house, I pivoted around to face the doorway, but the door was closed.

  “Damn,” I cussed. “Why does she always have to close the door?” But I remembered I had floated through the wall during my first excursion. Wondering if it would work again, I braced myself and headed slowly towards the solid door. Half expecting to crash headlong into the panel, I raised my hands in front of me to absorb the impact. Instead, I sailed through it with ease. I could feel the material of the door as I passed through. It felt a bit like moving through warm water, but with no resistance.

  On the other side of the door I stopped and floated to the floor. It was too tempting to resist, so just for the thrill of it, I reached back and pushed my arm elbow-deep into the door. Talk about a weird sensation. I could see only half my arm. The rest of it was un
doubtedly waving about on the other side of the door. Chuckling, I envisioned what this might look like back in the bedroom. I knew that if I were on the other side seeing something like this, I'd be under the covers with the phone, dialing “Ghostbusters.”

  With my arm still embedded in the wood, I slowly put my forehead against the smoothness of the door and pushed. Instantly my head passed through, and I found myself looking back into the bedroom. Everything was as I had left it, my wife and my body seemingly sound asleep. Stepping fully through the door into the bedroom, I began talking to myself. “Un-frickin-believable!” Standing still for a moment, I looked around, and then confident everything was okay, I turned and stepped back through the door into the hallway.

  A world of possibilities opened before me. Was there any kind of structure I couldn't go through? “Maybe steel would be a problem,” I thought. “I'll have to check it out sometime.”

  It seemed nothing could hold me back. Leaping into the air, I floated down the stairway into the living room. Slowly, I flew up to the two-story open ceiling just to see what it would be like to be that high off the floor. It was exhilarating.

  I was flying! I was actually flying, and I could hardly contain myself. Like a kid whose wildest fantasy had come true I swooped down from the ceiling, passed through the wall into the dining room, and continued on into the kitchen. The feeling of flying through solid objects was irresistible. Before long I was zooming back and forth through the walls like Casper, the friendly ghost. As I zipped through the wall of the family room into an adjacent bedroom, I came to a midair stop. It was my eight-year-old son's bedroom. Floating silently near the ceiling, I gazed down as David slept.

  My heart flooded with compassion for this gentle little soul. He was one of the happiest people I had ever known. Always a smile on his face, nothing seemed to get him down for long. Even at this young age, he had a wonderful sense of humor. With a warm and generous heart, he had empathy for anyone less fortunate. David's was the bright and cheery attitude I wished I had. From my perspective, he was beautiful.