Rest in Peace
Recently I had a near death experience. Which got me thinking. About life, and the afterlife. And death.
Rest in Peace. A simple sentence for a simple sentiment. A final goodbye to our nearest and dearest. We don’t wish them pleasant dreams. We don’t wish them an interesting afterlife.
We wish them peace.
Recently I’ve been trying to guess the time before I look at my watch or phone when I wake up. Mostly I get within a few minutes. Doesn’t matter whether it’s 2am and I’ve woken to take a pee, or 8am and I’ve woken because eight hours is enough, I generally know how much time has elapsed since I was last awake. It’s unusual for me to get it wrong by more than half an hour. Which is not a boast. I think most people would find the same thing if they bothered to try.
When we sleep, our brains are busy. Dreams can have the most fantastical set designs, music, colours, all sorts of wacky things. There can be people we know, including the departed, and people we don’t know. The only thing consistent about the craziness, for me at least, is that when I turn around in a dream, the thing I turn back to has always changed. It’s never the same as when I last looked, mere moments before. The change can be minor, a road is now a paddock, or perhaps a harbour, or an airport or somewhere unrecognisable. Even if it’s almost the same place it will be different, perhaps a whole different colour, and there might be different people there.
When we wake, we sometimes remember snippets of our great adventures and sometimes not, but we’re always aware, if we think about it, that things have been happening and time has passed.
Dreams can be fun. Sometimes I’m annoyed to find I’ve woken up and I try to go straight back into the fun dream I was having, but it never works. Even if you do get back into a similar dream, it’s not the same one you were looking for. (Not surprising really, given that our conscious minds can often jump around and start thinking of different things seemingly at random.)
Dreams can be annoying. You’re trying to complete some undefined task which you do over and over again in slightly different ways, never quite managing to get it done. And never quite understanding what the hell it is you’re trying to do over and over again. Dreams can be unpleasant in different ways, all the way through to actual nightmares.
A few months back my body malfunctioned and I had to have my gallbladder removed. This is usually a straightforward operation and generally the recovery is quick and complete. As was the case for me. After a day of taking it easy at home (not even in bed, I was feeling too well for that) I felt fully fit. It really was that easy.
(Quick shout out to the staff at North Shore Hospital. Everything about the experience was great. The nurses and doctors were all fantastic. And because it’s New Zealand, nobody asked me about health insurance or for a credit card number. For NZ citizens such care is 100% free of charge, including food, though the wine list isn’t great.)
My last moment of consciousness before the operation was in the operating theatre. I felt a warm surge in my veins and then, instantly, I was awake in a completely different place. The nurse told me there had been a minor complication but it was all perfectly sorted. I don’t remember the nature of the complication as I was still a bit groggy when she told me. I think she said that I had been unconscious for about four hours. Which I found quite disconcerting.
It seemed like no time had passed at all. That time had disappeared into a black hole. It was not like sleep. It was nothing like sleep. It was nothing. Just nothing.
My brain had apparently been completely shut down.
People who claim to have had a near death experience often talk about lights and a tunnel and other things capable of being sensed by a brain functioning in a possibly abnormal or unconscious condition. Awareness and recall of such experiences could only occur in a brain exhibiting some vital signs.
Vital signs are not evidence of death, or proximity to death. Vital signs are evidence of life.
My near death experience was nothing like that. It was nothing at all.
Admittedly I was at no time anywhere near actual death (as far as I know), but I can’t imagine anything nearer to a death-like experience.
The comforting thing about having experienced four hours of drug-induced brain death is the understanding that death is definitely not something to be afraid of. There’ll be no crazy dreams. There’ll be no nightmares. No fires of hell. No angels playing harps. Nothing to worry about at all. Time will no longer exist. There’ll be nothing. Nothing.
What could be more peaceful than that?
