This was a rather short experience, but still a significant one for me as it allowed me to gain a glimpse of the process of death.
Back at Home
It was nighttime and I was in the spare bedroom of the house where I grew up, stepping out into the hallway. My parents’ room was adjacent and I could hear what sounded like a woman’s voice talking on the radio.
The volume was very low and I continued walking down the hall, not wanting to disturb anyone. In the back of my mind, I thought that my mom must have been listening to the radio in the middle of the night (my dad could sleep through just about anything).
Very slowly a few things dawned upon me… Why am I in this house? I live in a different city now and the house was recently sold to another family… Oh! This must be the astral!
Upon realizing that I was actually in the astral plane, having become self-aware in my dream state, I continued to hear the talking and I listened more intently.
It wasn’t the radio after all; it was my mom talking, or maybe whispering. Maybe she was speaking to my dad, I thought?
Then I reached a more fundamental realization: my mom had passed away… almost a year before!
From Belsebuub’s description of death, the psyche splits into different parts, some which move on in the great journey of existence (like the consciousness, or essence of a person), and others that slowly fade away (like the personality – also called a ghost).
It had been a while since my mom’s passing and I didn’t expect her to be fully there with her consciousness, but I was curious as to what would happen if I were to go in and to speak to her. I turned around and walked to my parents’ room.
Stepping into the Bedroom
I walked into the bedroom. There was a light on by the bedside, but the room also seemed to have its own astral-lighting. My mom was lying alone on the side of the bed nearest the window, where she normally did.
I’m not sure if it was a result of my lacking awareness at the time or perhaps the process of her personality fading over time, maybe both, but it was very hard to see her clearly.
She was there, but she didn’t have a well-defined form – she was kind of blurry.
She was very happy to see me, and asked me how I was doing. We spoke for a few moments but the conversation didn’t make a lot of sense and by this time, I am quite sure that my awareness was fading.
Then I awoke some 3000 km or so away in my bed.
This was an unexpected experience for me, one that brings me mixed feelings.
I’m grateful to have had this occasion to speak with what was presumably my mom’s ghost, but I also wish I could have been more conscious throughout the experience, to really get the most out of that very brief encounter.
It also makes me realize how precious the consciousness is, and how we much we lack without it.
Her personality in the dream, without her consciousness, felt more like a residual energy, going through somewhat mechanical reactions, as opposed to having the spontaneity and intelligence of consciousness.