It happened last night, just before 8 o’clock.
As I lay myself down to sleep, I lowered my eyelids and was about to rest my head on the arm of my loveseat when I saw a flash of light and felt a pull from an unseen, magnetic field. I paused and absorbed a flicker of dizziness.
I experience lightheadedness daily, but this was different.
My head, then my shoulders, began to peel away from my body, like the outer layer of an onion. It was a gentle separation, not an abrupt or harsh tug.
“This is it,” I thought, my eyelids still closed and my mind curious. “This is death.”
Except it didn’t feel like death. At least not the way many of us think of death. It was peaceful and inviting.
I waited, wondering if the remainder of my body would join my head and shoulders and rise as one to float above and begin the journey to the other side. I expected to hear a voice. I might have even been hoping to hear a voice, that of an angel. But the only sound was silence.
I instructed myself to open my eyes and sit up.
“I’ll just stay awake,” I told myself. “If I don’t go to sleep, I can’t die.”
But I couldn’t move. Whatever resistance I proposed to muster had now vanished.
“If this is how it’s going to end,” was my next silent thought as I surrendered to the moment and to the possibility, “so be it. I’m good to go.”
I lay my head down, not knowing if I would awaken this morning…but at total peace. I was smiling.