THE DAY MY LIFE CHANGED:
February 2, 2006
On the morning of February 2, 2006, after four heart-wrenching years with cancer, my body had finally had enough and I went into a coma.
As my husband rushed me to the hospital, the world around me started to appear surreal and dreamlike, and I could feel myself slip further and further from consciousness.
The moment I arrived and the oncologist saw me, her face visibly filled with shock. “Your wife’s heart may still be beating,” she told Danny, “but she’s not really there. It’s too late to save her. Her organs have already shut down. Her tumors have grown to the size of lemons throughout her lymphatic system, from the base of her skull to below her abdomen. Her brain is filled with fluid, as are her lungs. And as you can see, her skin has developed lesions that are weeping with toxins. She won’t even make it through the night.”
I watched as Danny’s face filled with anguish, and I wanted to cry out to him, It’s okay, darling—I’m okay! Please don’t worry. Don’t listen to the doctor. I actually feel great! But I couldn’t. No words came out. No sound. Danny couldn’t hear me.
In this near-death state, I was more acutely aware of all that was going on around me than I’d ever been in a normal physical state. I wasn’t using my five biological senses, yet I was keenly taking everything in. It was as though another, completely different type of perception kicked in, and I seemed to encompass everything that was happening, as though I was slowly merging with it all.
I felt no emotional attachment to my seemingly lifeless body as it lay there on the hospital bed. It didn’t feel as though it were mine. It looked far too small and insignificant to have housed what I was experiencing. I felt free, liberated, and magnificent. Every pain, ache, sadness, and sorrow was gone! I felt completely unencumbered. I couldn’t recall feeling this way before—not ever.
I continued to sense myself expanding farther and farther outward, drawing away from my physical surroundings. It was as though I were no longer restricted by the confines of space and time, and I continued to spread myself out to occupy a greater expanse of consciousness. I simultaneously experienced a sense of joy mixed with a generous sprinkling of jubilation and happiness.
I felt all my emotional attachments to my loved ones and my surroundings slowly fall away. What I can only describe as superb and glorious unconditional love surrounded me, wrapping me tight as I continued to let go. It didn’t feel as though I had physically gone somewhere else—it was more as though I’d awakened, perhaps finally being roused from a bad dream. My soul was finally realizing its true magnificence. And in doing so, it was expanding beyond my body and this physical world.
The feeling of complete, unconditional love was unlike anything I’d known before. It was totally undiscriminating, as if I didn’t have to do anything to deserve it, nor did I need to prove myself to earn it.
To my amazement, I became aware of the presence of my father, who’d died ten years earlier. Dad, you’re here. I can’t believe it! I wasn’t speaking those words, I was merely thinking them—in fact, it was more like feeling the emotions behind the words, as there was no other way of communicating in that realm other than through emotions.
I also recognized the essence of my best friend, Soni, who’d died of cancer three years prior. I seemed to know that they’d both been present with me long before I became aware of them, all through my illness.
I was aware of other beings around me. I didn’t recognize them, but I knew they loved me very much and were protecting me. I realized that they, too, had been with me all this time, surrounding me with love, even when I wasn’t conscious of it.
My heightened awareness and feelings of unconditional love in that expanded realm were indescribable, despite my best efforts to explain them.
The universe makes sense! I realized. I finally understand—I know why I have cancer! I was too caught up in the wonder of that moment to dwell on the cause, although I’d soon examine it more closely. I also seemed to comprehend why I’d come into this life in the first place—I knew my true purpose.
Why do I suddenly understand all this? I wanted to know. Who’s giving me this information? Is it God? Krishna? Buddha? Jesus?
And then I was overwhelmed by the realization that God isn’t a being, but a state of being... and I was now in that state of being.
I saw my life intricately woven into everything I’d known so far. My experience was like a single strand threaded through the huge and complexly colored images of an infinite tapestry. All the other threads and colors represented my relationships, including every life I’d touched. There were threads representing my mother, my father, my brother, my husband, and every other person who’d ever come into my life, whether they related to me in a positive or negative way.
I began to understand that while I may have only been a thread, I was integral to the overall finished picture. Seeing this, I understood that I owed it to myself, to everyone I met, and to life itself to always be an expression of my own unique essence.
Trying to be anything or anyone else didn’t make me better—it just deprived me of my true self! It kept others from experiencing me for who I am, and it deprived me of interacting authentically with them.
As I looked at the great tapestry that was the accumulation of my life up to that point, I could identify exactly what had brought me to where I was today.
Just look at my life path! Why, oh why, was I always so harsh with myself? Why was I always beating myself up? Why was I always forsaking myself? Why did I never stand up for myself and show the world the beauty of my own soul? Why was I always suppressing my own intelligence and creativity to please others? I betrayed myself every time I said yes when I meant no!
Why did I violate myself by always needing to seek approval from others just to be myself? Why haven’t I followed my own beautiful heart and spoken my truth? Why don’t we realize this when we’re in our physical bodies? How come I never knew that we’re not supposed to be so tough on ourselves?
I still felt completely enveloped in a sea of unconditional love and acceptance. I was able to look at myself with fresh eyes, and saw that I was a beautiful child of the Universe. I understood that just the fact that I existed made me worthy of this divine love rather than judgment. I didn’t need to do anything specific; I deserved to be loved simply because I existed, nothing more and nothing less.
This was a rather surprising realization for me, because I’d always thought I needed to work at being lovable. I believed that I somehow had to be deserving and worthy of being cared for, so it was incredible to realize this wasn’t the case.
I also understood that the cancer wasn’t some punishment for anything I’d done wrong, nor was I experiencing negative karma as a result of any of my actions, as I’d previously believed. It was as though every moment held infinite possibilities, and where I was at that point in time was the culmination of every decision, every choice, and every thought of my entire life. Many fears and my great power had manifested this disease.
What subsequently happened is incredibly hard to describe. First, it felt as though whatever I directed my awareness toward appeared before me. Second, time was completely irrelevant. It wasn’t even a factor to consider, as though it didn’t exist.
Prior to this point, doctors had conducted tests on the functionality of my organs, and their report had already been written. But in that realm, it seemed as though the outcome of those tests and the report depended on the decision I had yet to make—whether to live or to continue onward into death. If I chose death, the test results would indicate organ failure. If I chose to come back to physical life, they’d show my organs beginning to function again.
At that moment, I decided that I didn’t want to return to earth life. I then became conscious of my physical body dying, and I saw the doctors speaking with my family, explaining that it was death due to organ failure.
Simultaneously, my father communicated with me: This is as far as you can go, sweetheart. If you go any further, you cannot turn back.
I became aware of a boundary before me, although the demarcation wasn’t physical. It was more like an invisible threshold marked by a variation of energy levels. I knew that if I crossed it there was no turning back. All my ties to the physical world would be permanently severed.
But before I stepped toward this realm for good, I became aware of a new level of truth.
I discovered that since I’d realized who I really was and understood the magnificence of my true self, if I chose to go back to life, my body would heal rapidly—not in months or weeks, but in days! if I chose to go back to my body, I knew that the doctors wouldn’t be able to find a trace of cancer.
That stunning revelation hit me like a bolt of lightning. I understood that merely by being who I truly am, I would heal both myself and others. I knew that was really the only purpose of life: to be ourselves, live our truths, and be the love that we are.
As though to confirm my realization, I became aware of both my father and Soni communicating with me:
Now that you know the truth of who you really are, go back and live your life fearlessly.
It was the afternoon of February 3rd, about thirty hours after I’d entered the coma. My eyes started to flicker open around 4 p.m., and my vision was very blurred. I could barely see that the outline of the figure standing over me was Danny, and then I heard his voice: “She’s back!”
Once I regained consciousness, my cancer began to heal rapidly. To the amazement of my doctors, I was free of countless tumors and cancer indicators within weeks.
Since then, I’ve heeded the call to share this powerful story - and divine lesson - with the world: