The thing is, when you have an NDE, it’s kind of like getting a map that no one else has. Did you ever read “The Phantom Tollbooth?” Kind of like that. So, the map says, “you are here,” and then there’s this road going straight to heaven (sometimes called Shangri La).
The problem is, that once you hit that road, everyone seems like a stranger. It’s really disconcerting. They all speak a different language, and you just don’t get it. And you can’t turn around and go back. You can only go further on, but the further you go, the weirder it gets, and you wish you could get to the end of the road, because there’s a town there, and that town is named “Heaven.”
Along the way, there are all these hints about what Heaven is like, but since you can’t understand what people are saying and you can’t read what they write, you are left to your own interpretations about what is up there. Sometimes, on this road, a bush will suddenly burst into flame. Or, you’re drinking a glass of water, and it turns into orange juice, or wine. You light a candle, and it lasts for weeks, burning and burning, but not burning out.
You figure these are signs being sent to you from Heaven, and that Heaven must be a miraculous place. Your desire to get there grows stronger and stronger, while your connection with people grows weaker and weaker.
Anyway, my point is, that when you’ve had an NDE, you don’t feel like ordinary people any more. You are different. Special. You feel separated from others, and you wish you could be in a place where you were no longer separate.
Here’s the problem. What you make of what happened—it’s all yours. It’s all in your head. It can be the story I told. But it could be a lot of other stories, too. Whatever story you tell yourself, if you’re of a certain mind set, you’ll want that story to be the only story, and you’ll see others who don’t understand your story as lost souls. Literally. So it goes.