AS I WAS BEING RUSHED to the hospital, the world around me started to appear surreal and dreamlike, and I could feel myself slip further and further away from consciousness.
The moment 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 in there. It’s too late to save her.”
Who’s the doctor talking about? I wondered. I’ve never felt better in my life! And why do Mum and Danny look so frightened and worried? Don’t cry! I’m fine—really, dear Mama, I am!
I thought I was speaking these words aloud, but nothing came out. I had no voice.
Because of the gravity of the situation, the doctor immediately called for another senior oncologist to back her up. In this near-death state, I was more acutely aware of all that was going on around me than I’ve ever been in a normal physical state.
The senior oncologist immediately ordered a medical team to wheel my gurney to the intensive care unit. A thick curtain was drawn all around my bed, separating me from the patients on either side of me. Danny and my mother were both on the outside of the cubicle created by the curtain.
The nurses were still scurrying around. A food tube was inserted through my nose, down the back of my throat, and into my stomach so that I could be fed directly, and oxygen was being pumped through my nose via a respirator.
Although my physical eyes were closed, I was acutely aware of every detail that was taking place around me and beyond. The sharpness of my perception was even more intense than if I’d been awake and using my physical senses.
Danny and Mum look so sad and frightened. I wish they could know that I’m no longer in pain—I wish I could tell them. Mum, please don’t cry! I’m fine! I’m right here. I’m with you now!
I was fully aware of what was going on around me. Although everything seemed to be happening at the same time, whatever I focused on would become clear in that moment.
“I can’t find her veins!” I heard one of the male nurses say frantically to the doctor on duty. There was fear in his voice.
He sounds so hopeless, I thought. He’s ready to give up on me, and I don’t blame him.
Although the medical team moved with great speed, I also sensed an air of acceptance, as though they’d come to terms with the fact that it was too late to change my fate. I was extremely aware of every detail, but I couldn’t physically feel anything—anything, that is, except a release and a level of freedom I’d never known before.
Wow, this is incredible! I feel so free and light! What’s going on?
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. It was as though I’d been a prisoner in my own body for the past four years as the cancer ravaged my physical form, and at last I was being released. I was tasting freedom for the first time!
I began to feel weightless and to become aware that I was able to be anywhere at any time . . . and this felt normal. I didn’t even think it odd that I was aware of my husband and the doctor speaking to each other outside the ICU, some 40 feet down a hallway.
“There’s nothing we can do for your wife, Mr. Moorjani. Her organs have already shut down. She has tumors 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. Her skin has developed lesions that are weeping with toxins. She won’t even make it through the night,” he told Danny.
I watched as Danny’s face changed to anguish and wanted to cry out to him, It’s okay, darling—I’m okay! Please don’t worry. Don’t listen to the doctor. But nothing came out.
As soon as I began to get emotionally attached to the drama taking place around me, I also felt myself being simultaneously pulled away, as though there were a bigger picture, a grander plan that was unfolding. I could feel my attachment recede as I began to know that everything was perfect and going according to plan.
Simultaneously, I became aware that my brother, Anoop, was thousands of miles away on an airplane, anxiously coming to see me. Upon seeing his worried look, I once again felt myself being drawn back into the emotional drama of the physical realm.
Oh, poor Anoop. He’s worried about me, and he wants to get here before I die. Don’t worry, Anoop. I’ll be here for you. You don’t have to hurry! I’m not in pain anymore, dear brother!
I wanted to reach out and assure him that I was okay, and I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t able to. I continued to sense myself expanding further and further outward, drawing away from my physical surroundings. I felt a sense of freedom and liberation that I’d never experienced in my physical life before. What I can only describe as unconditional love surrounded me, wrapping me tight as I continued to let go. The term unconditional love really doesn’t do justice to the feeling, as these words have been overused to the point of having lost their intensity. But the physical battle I’d fought for so very long had finally released its strong hold on me, and I had a beautiful experience of freedom. My soul was finally realizing its true magnificence! And in doing so, it was expanding beyond this physical world. It extended further and further outward until it encompassed not only this existence, but continued to expand into another realm that was beyond this time and space, and at the same time included it. Love, joy, ecstasy, and awe poured into me, through me, and engulfed me. I was enveloped in more love than I ever knew existed. I felt more free and alive than I ever had.
To my amazement, I became aware of the presence of my father, who’d died ten years earlier, and it brought me unbelievable comfort to sense him with me.
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 I was feeling the emotions behind the words, as there was no other way of communicating in that realm other than through our emotions.
Yes, I’m here, my darling, and I’ve always been here—for you and our whole family! my father communicated to me. Again, there were no words, just emotions, but I clearly understood.
I was also 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 were there all the time, surrounding me with so much love, even when I wasn’t conscious of it.
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. And then I was overwhelmed by the realization that God isn’t a being, but a state of being . . . and I was now that state of being!
I saw my life intricately woven into everything I’d known so far. My experience was like a single thread woven through the huge and complex images of an infinite tapestry. All the other threads and colors represented my relationships, including every life I’d touched. Every single encounter was woven together to create the fabric that was the sum of my life up to this point. I may have been only one thread, yet 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 was able to identify exactly what had brought me to where I was today.
Just look at my life path! Why have I always been so harsh with myself? 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 have I violated 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 own truth?
I also understood that the cancer was not 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 a culmination of every decision, every choice, and every thought of my entire life. My many fears and my great power had manifested as this disease.
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Editor’s Note: The preceding is excerpted from Anita Moorjani’s bestselling book, Dying to Be Me: My Journey from Cancer, to Near-Death, to True Healing. Reprinted with permission.)
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