NDE Follies

By Kenneth Ring, Ph.D.

Dear Friends,

I was in a larkish mood the other night, so I decided to write a little parody about NDEs.  I hope you will enjoy it and maybe get a laugh or two from reading my frolicsome tale.  Here you go.

Title: “Death, Dying, and Other Inconveniences

I must say, dying is terribly inconvenient.

You could be having a perfectly ordinary Tuesday - walking the dog, microwaving leftover lasagna, planning your revenge on whoever scheduled a meeting at 7:30 a.m. - and then bam, your heart forgets its job and checks out early like a disgruntled employee. Suddenly, you’re staring at your body from the ceiling, wondering why you ever worried about cholesterol.

Now, before you panic and clutch your kale, let me assure you: this is not a tragic tale of doom. No, dear reader. This is a tale of curiosity, of mystery, and yes, of a surprising number of people reporting that the afterlife has really good lighting.

As someone who has spent a rather absurd amount of time collecting near-death experiences (NDEs), I can confirm two things:

1. People who "die" and come back often seem a lot happier than people who just try to find parking in downtown San Francisco.

2. Almost nobody sees a pearly gate. St. Peter must be very backed up.

You’d think dying would be terrifying. And yet, person after person comes back from the brink with the same general report: “It was beautiful. I didn’t want to come back. And also, I could see through walls.”

Apparently, when the brain shuts up, the soul gets chatty.

Many NDErs describe being greeted by a loving presence - a being of light, not to be confused with your dentist’s overhead lamp. Some describe a life review that’s less “Judgment Day” and more “Netflix binge of your greatest hits, including that time you stole a grape at the supermarket in 1994.”

And the kicker? They almost always report that the entire experience was infused with unconditional love. The kind of love that makes you forgive your cousin Steve for stealing your thunder at Grandma’s funeral by showing up in a sequined tuxedo.

Now, I’ve never had an NDE myself (though I once got lost in a Macy’s for three hours, which I believe is spiritually equivalent), but I’ve read hundreds of these stories. And every time, I walk away with the same conclusion: death, it seems, is a lot less scary than rush-hour traffic.

So what do these near-death escapades teach us?

Well, first: try not to wait until you’re flatlining to realize that life is sacred and everyone deserves your compassion - even that guy who chews with his mouth open. Second: we’re all interconnected, even if we can’t agree on pineapple on pizza. And third: it might be wise to live every day as if it were part of your life review highlight reel.

Also, pro tip - if you find yourself floating above your body and someone in scrubs is yelling “Clear!”, maybe pause before following the tunnel of light. You’ve still got time to return that library book.

In all seriousness (or as close to it as I get), the growing body of NDE research continues to poke holes in the idea that consciousness dies with the brain. If anything, these accounts suggest that death might not be the end, but a rather awkward costume change.

And so, if you find yourself worrying about what comes next, remember this: You’ve survived middle school. You’ve survived holiday dinners. You’ve probably survived dial-up internet. You can survive this, too.

Besides, when your time comes, you just might find that the next world is brighter, kinder, and blissfully free of robocalls.

Actually, as some of you might now suspect, I didn’t write this at all. I just told ChatGPT to write a three-page blog in my style and characteristic humor. This is what it turned out. My daughter Kathryn said it sounded a lot like me. Heaven forfend! I would never saturate my blogs with so much corny humor; a sprinkling of wit is actually more my style, n’est-ce-pas?  

Anyway, this is the age we now live in where you can never tell whether you are getting a note from a bot or a human body.  You’ll have to guess who or what wrote this paragraph.