NEWPORT, OREGON

The disappointing part of dying was waking back up to actual existence. The event was so magical and joyful that as soon as I realized that the dying part was over, and I was back in this day-to-day life of whatever it is we call it the buzz was over. My NDE’s (Near Death Experiences, 3 of them) all coincided with the coma I was in, so I had been resuscitated but wasn’t conscience which I believe enhanced the whole experience for me. Being in a coma when flatlined gave my subconsciousness an opportunity to process the experience. We think we can use words to describe anything but what happened when I flat-lined really doesn’t all fit into words. Being in the ‘scene’ but it isn’t your ego is indescribable. Sometimes I was watching me, sometimes it was me watching others but none of it was really me, Tim Norton.

I’m a photographer and it’s hard for me to visualize that I didn’t have a life, that I was life. Life itself perpetuating into the future with a distorted sense of time. For 2 weeks I slept with life and death in the same bed. The visions/dreams/hallucinations were fantastical. It was funny, joyful, playful and interesting. It’s more than freedom, I don’t know that there’s a word for the experience that I had. It’s you without an ego or a care. Not thinking, no reason to think and nothing to think about. Imagine being in a place that’s always safe and warm.

On paper that heart attack should never have happened. I rode a bicycle 15-20 miles a day, I ate a plant-based diet, drank a gallon of water every day, no alcohol, no drugs. I was living a mostly stress-free life traveling and practicing my photography. The heart attack happened in slow motion over the course of hours, gradually. My wife and I were convinced it was Covid because of the symptoms. Eventually I succumbed to the heart attack, collapsed and was taken to the hospital. My wife told the ambulance driver she would follow her to the hospital and the EMT’s said that she should ride in the ambulance because they weren’t sure I would make it. At the hospital it was determined that I had a complete blockage in my heart and the remedy was to put 3 stents in that chamber. They rushed me into surgery. On the operating table, under anesthesia, I had a stroke. In recovery, I never woke up. I was sent to ICU in a coma and that’s where the fun began.

During my time in the ICU, I flat-lined 3 separate times. I slept with life and death in the same bed for 2 weeks. The Doctors didn’t believe I was going to survive, and we still have the voicemails to my Wife asking her to sign a ‘do not resuscitate’ order (DNR). They wanted to ‘pull the plug’ on me and told my wife it was the dignified thing to do. They repeatedly mentioned that I probably wouldn’t survive and if I did, I would never be the same.

I woke up in a 14th century Peruvian Catholic Basilica overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It was all stone with large fire pits burning for heat. I was dumped onto a stone table which for lack of a better term, looked like an altar. I was approached by an Italian woman dressed as a Nun who was very rough and very businesslike. She looked me over and within a minute she had produced a small saw/drill and drilled a 2-inch hole into the side of my neck. Back in the hospital, a tracheotomy was performed but I don’t know if this coincided with the Nuns work. At this point I had gone from being on the table to standing behind the Nun watching her cut me open. A young assistant arrived and asked the Nun “do they all have fire like that inside them?” And the Nun responded, “the ones we get do”. I could see what looked like a very small bicycle rim spinning inside my neck. There was fire and electrical sparks being produced by this spinning wheel and it was erratic. The nun took two different tools, one in each hand and began to adjust the fire and electricity to the point where it was symmetrical and appeared more balanced. It happened quickly and she walked away, and the young assistant pulled me off of the altar and drag me to another stone table. I felt no pain in fact I felt great. And then I noticed my 4 grandsons in the basilica. They were playing like 2,3- and 4-year old’s do. I thought it was just sentimental but when I later told my speech therapist (I was also intubated, and my voice is still gravely) she said, “those babies were your angels”. It didn’t occur to me, but I like her version better! That scene ended soon thereafter while I was standing out on the patio of the basilica watching an incredible full moon over the Pacific against the backdrop of a purple-ish sky feeling what I can only explain as absolute Nirvana. One more part to this scene, there was a 10–12-foot statue on this patio/balcony of a woman but I had no idea who it was. It was just a decoration. But later when I tried to research this place, I found a picture of a similar structure and it had a statue of ‘Caliope’, the goddess of creativity, art and writing. Why that struck me is I feel one of the changes I went through was I didn’t feel as creative or inspired after this NDE and I wonder still if there is a connection.

This was a powerful scene that was so much more than real. I think about it daily and try to make sense of it. I had 2 more NDE’s that had similar significances as this one which I’ll add later.

After Peru and Korea, I happened into Louisiana. This part I understand the least. On an earlier post somebody made the suggestion that some of my experiences could involve past life regression which not only blew my mind but also gave my story more gravitas. Since none of the locations I experienced were places I had ever been, perhaps that was the part of the equation I was missing. The scene starts like a scene from the Great Gatsby. There is a white-on-white Duesenberg convertible sitting on the lawn next to what I think was the Mississippi river. The lawn is expansive (more than an acre) and the property is stunning. The house is tidy and quaint, white with red trim in Victorian style. It’s lovely but seems mismatched to the Duesenberg.

Inside the house is serene, white lace curtains swaying gently in the light breezes. It’s an older house that creaks when it has to move or be moved. It’s upstairs where I find myself. I’m in a bedroom with an older black man sitting on a bed and a much younger version of my mom is in there with us. He’s a car guy and is talking to me about different cars he has and tells me he has a brand new 1920’s Dodge in the basement with the original hand drawn blueprints of the new Dodge transmission. I’m a car guy too, but I was born in the 1960’s so I’m a little confused and I deduce that I’m in the 1920’s at this house. I ask to see his Dodge and my mom follows us to the basement. In hindsight it doesn’t make sense. My mom is in here 20’s in the 1920’s but she wasn’t born until 1944. At the time I thought nothing of the time difference. Throughout my experiences, I never questioned anything, what was, just was and what was next was just next.

The gentleman was proud of the 1920’s Dodge, and it was gorgeous. Pale yellow convertible with a white leather interior and he offered me the keys to drive it. My Mom got in and we drove down the dirt road.

The conversation was interesting, her husband (my stepfather) with which I always had strained relationship with was a retired Doctor and retired Navy Commander and wanted me to ‘manage’ his legacy. He wanted to set up a charitable foundation and I would be paid to do it. All very odd and it still puzzles me. We returned the car and the gentleman showed me the technical drawings of the new Dodge revolutionary automatic transmission that he was involved with, also puzzling.

I was released from the hospital in mid-May after 2 months of being tied to a bed (an alarm would go off if I got out of the bed). The recovery has been grueling but I’m making good progress. I’m in the gym 5-6 days a week, riding my bike again and walking 1-2 miles every day. I lost 50 pounds during this ordeal, but I’ve managed to put about 25 pounds back on. Physically it’s all coming together, mentally there are differences. I think everyone would agree that NDE’s are profound and have an effect on folks. They’re all minor, nuanced differences but they are real. Things I loved don’t interest me now and things I had no interest in, I now love.

I started writing this talking about how blissful and gorgeous my NDE really was. It was so happy and joyful I think if I had the option, I wouldn’t have come back. I’ve learned a lot about NDE’s and will cherish my time in that realm. I believe that my experience was so special because I was in such a good place when it happened. I was thoroughly enjoying life, I’ve always been an empathetic person who’s always tried to do the right thing and be fair to everybody. I don’t like the western version of Karma that dictates that there’s instant retribution for someone that does something wrong or instant rewards for doing something good. But if you’re living a positive life and are kind that when you do die those positive traits will carry over to the next realm. I don’t know about reincarnation but if it takes a long time to come back, being in a blissful environment can take as long as it wants. I read a beautiful short story/poem on the internet a few years ago that starts off from the point of view of what the reader believes are children enjoying themselves. They are all happy, pleased to be where they are, they do what they want, they eat and sleep well and have little or no desire to do anything else. As the story moves on, we find out that some of the children (who we find out aren’t actually children at all but, really adults) will have to get ready to ‘go back’. This is awful news to them. Having to ‘go back’ to regular life and all its trial, tribulations, frustrations, anxieties and suffering comes as terrible news. The author doesn’t mention reincarnation, but I believe he is referring to it. The in between life might very well be the best part of our existence and I don’t even know what it’s called. We think we’re the experiencer of experiences, but I now think we’re just part of the experience. We don’t just have a life; we are life that continues on after we die. Bob Dylan has a great line when he was asked “Why the name Bob Dylan?” and his answer went something like this “I’m just being Bob Dylan now, Bob Dylan has been around long before I was born and will be around long after I die”. That encapsulates my revelation, I or me, whoever that is has been around a long time and will be around long after this I/me is gone.

It’s only been 8 months since my NDE’s and as every day passes, I absorb or am exposed to more synchronicities relating to my after-death realm. Bits and pieces, sometimes small drops, sometimes the flood gates open and expose to me more details and insights. I worry that maybe I think too much about it, but there have been some serious revelations about my experiences. It is interesting finding so many things tethered to my experience or things that happened in my experience that come to pass now.

“The Edge…There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.”
~ Hunter S. Thompson