NDE Story

Trigger Warning: Hey there! I view my near-death experience (NDE) through a spiritual lens. I am more spiritual than religious these days, but I do use the word "God" because it feels true to me and my story. That being said, if the word "God" makes you feel uneasy, don't worry! Just go with what feels best for you and feel free to stop reading if you need to.

Context

For context, let me offer a bit of background first. Before my NDE, I freelanced as a web designer and SEO (search engine optimization) researcher. Right before the pandemic, I injured my knee. Owning a business kept me incredibly busy (often working long hours), so I put off having it looked at for too long.

In 2022, I also led a historic church to its close. By the time I finished that role, I was experiencing unrelenting burnout. I wanted to chuck everything to cocoon and paint full-time. Instead, I started meditating, practicing mindfulness, and painting some, trying to find balance, while each customer support call I fielded made me feel a little more dead inside. I got my knee repaired, too, thinking that if I could go for walks again, that would also help.

On my first walk, after my knee healed, I looked up at a canopy of tree branches that covered my path and exclaimed out loud, "Oh my God, the world is 3D!" From my busy, overworked life of endless hours staring at screens, I had forgotten the basics. The beauty of those tree branches was overwhelming. I decided right then and there to close my freelance business. I felt called to paint, to be in nature, and to live more deeply.

I spent some time trying to decide what to paint. Whatever I painted, I knew it had to be meaningful, or I would chuck painting too. I settled on painting Cyberpunk motifs in a pop art style. Cyberpunk ethos perfectly characterized how I felt about the harms of too much tech. "Diedre From Tech Support" was one of two Cyberpunk paintings I completed just before my NDE.

The NDE

A near-death experience (NDE) is a profound personal experience associated with death or impending death, which researchers describe as having similar characteristics. ~ Wikipedia

While most NDEs are the positive experiences of peace and bliss that we've all heard about—as many as 20% (likely under-reported) experience distressing NDEs. NDEers often initially experience a void before the heart stops, and the experience becomes more pleasant. That was my experience. I was out of my body, floating in a void. I was very close to death, but luckily, my heart never stopped. 

In January 2023, I was hospitalized with Sepsis from pneumonia. My blood pressure (BP) crashed multiple times during my hospital stay. It was during those events that I had strange visions. During my first night in the hospital, my BP dropped to 38/22. When I briefly closed my eyes to pray, I found myself floating in a dark void like outer space. I was just my consciousness, without a body. Ahead of me, I could see a tunnel floating in the void. It had a lot of twists and turns, but somehow, I could see around every angle clear through to its end. At the end of the tunnel, I could see the silhouette of a rider on a horse in front of a bright, white light. I had no desire to enter that tunnel.

I remember thinking, "Oh, this is not good." I realized I was dying and suddenly felt overcome by an indescribably deep disappointment and sadness. I didn't want to die. I prayed for a bit—there were some things I wanted to tell God. At one point, I said, "I don't understand—I thought you wanted me to paint?" When I had said all I needed to say, I told God, "I trust you, but I just can't go into that tunnel. You're going to have to come and get me." Immediately, the horse and the rider started galloping toward me, but when they were almost upon me, they jumped over me and disappeared. Then, I was immediately back in my hospital room. 

During a subsequent BP crash, I began seeing art images. First, I saw a still-life painting of an oddly shaped brown glazed teapot sitting on a wood table with a floral background. I thought God was showing me the picture for a reason, so I asked why. I opened and closed my eyes a few times. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same image vividly. I remember indignantly telling God, "That's the ugliest teapot I've ever seen. I don't even like still-life art!" Then, the image immediately changed. This time, it was geometric and in motion. "Very cool," I thought. Intersecting diagonal lines moved in and out of the frame, changing color and overlapping in different ways to form a new image with each oscillation.

During the rest of my hospital stay, and for weeks after that, I continued to see art imagery when I closed my eyes, especially if I was trying to fall asleep. The images were geometric and cubist in some ways but different from anything I've seen. Some had faces, some were abstract, and some were landscapes. They played in my head like a slide show, not still for long. Oh, how I wished my head could take screenshots.

Two friends who visited me in the hospital urged me to paint the images I saw, but I wanted nothing to do with the idea when I got out of the hospital. The whole experience was so traumatizing—I just wanted to figure out how to put it behind me and move on. But that was easier said than done.

Post-processing is challenging for NDEers partly because the experiences feel more real than our physical reality and often entirely upend one's belief system. Survivors frequently have to deal with associated PTSD, too. It typically takes a long time, if ever, to fully integrate NDE experiences.

I couldn't think my way through my confusion afterward. I could feel my way through the grief associated with the experience. After losing two kids, I was no stranger to it, but grieving didn't entirely solve things for me either.

Eventually, I could frame the experience in a way that made sense to me. I decided to paint in a style that honored the imagery I saw to help integrate the experience.