I didn’t fully understand the limits of my body until this past June, when I fell down my fire escape and floated outside myself in a near-death experience, much like the ones Peter Fenwick — a psychiatrist who researched end-of-life phenomena — documented over the course of his career. (Dr. Fenwick died on Nov. 22 at 89.)
I was at my own housewarming party, standing on the fire escape with two friends, when I fell, tumbling around 12 feet and hitting my head. I lost consciousness for several minutes.
As my friends tell it, the paramedics arrived quickly, detached the screen from a window on the second floor and hauled me downstairs in a stretcher. As they loaded me into the ambulance, I rose above myself and watched the fanfare: the concerned neighbors stepping into the street; the pale pink of sunset; my own body, small and far away in the stretcher as my roommate held my palm and my friend held my ankle. Their touch snapped me back into consciousness. I immediately felt pain and begged for water.
It wasn’t the first time I’d had what felt like an out-of-body experience. When I was a teenager, I became fascinated by astral projection — intentional out-of-body travel — and began to put it into practice at night. One evening, I hurtled toward the ceiling and watched myself sleep. A line tugged out from my sternum to my belly button. It resembled an umbilical cord: silver and long as a rope.
I had a similar sensation after my fall, albeit without the cord. The doctors diagnosed a severe concussion, and I spent the next three weeks recovering in my new home. At first, I struggled to derive meaning from my sudden proximity to death. Then I thought about fragility — and the thousands of minute ways humans evade death every day without knowing it — and my experience concretized into a newfound appreciation of our bodies’ capacity for self-preservation and a diminished fear of death.
I was reminded of my near-death experience when I learned that The New York Times, where I work, would be publishing Dr. Fenwick’s obituary.
His 1995 book, “The Truth in the Light,” which he wrote with his wife, Elizabeth, included anecdotes from more than 300 people who recounted having near-death experiences — which he categorized with labels like “out of the body,” “approaching the light,” “meeting relatives” and “the life review.” Below are some of the stories he collected.
Meeting Relatives
In 1987, Dawn Gillott was in a hospital in England with microplasma pneumonia and undergoing emergency surgery in the intensive therapy unit when she suddenly felt herself floating above her body and through a tunnel, where she came upon an open field.
There was a bench seat on the right where my Grampi sat (he had been dead seven years). I sat next to him. He asked me how I was and the family. I said I was happy and content and all my family were fine.
He said he was worried about my son; my son needed his mother. I told Grampi I didn’t want to go back, I wanted to stay with him. But Grampi insisted I go back for my children’s sake. I then asked if he would come for me when my time came. He started to answer, “Yes, I will be back in four —” then my whole body seemed to jump. I look around and saw I was back in the I.T.U.
Approaching the Light
Avon Pailthorpe was driving on a dark, rainy day in 1986 when her car aquaplaned and she went into a spin. She then felt herself shooting, head first, into a tunnel.
As the tunnel began to lighten, there were presences. They were not people and I didn’t see anything but I was aware of their minds. They were debating whether I should go back. This is what made me so safe; I knew that I had absolutely no responsibility to make any decision. This is an almost unknown situation for me, and it was wonderfully liberating. I also knew I could not influence what decision they made, but that whatever it should be it would be right.
The Life Review
Allan Pring was given anesthesia while undergoing minor surgery in 1979 and quickly lost consciousness.
I experienced the review of my life which extended from early childhood and included many occurrences that I had completely forgotten. My life passed before me in a momentary flash but it was entire, even my thoughts were included. Some of the contents caused me to be ashamed but there were one or two I had forgotten about of which I felt quite pleased. All in all, I knew that I could have lived a much better life but it could have been a lot worse.
Amisha Padnani contributed research.
