Remember, Every Breath is Precious: Dying Taught Me How to Live

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I don’t remember hearing any snorts or whinnies. I don’t remember smelling the sweat streaming off the newly unsaddled backs or seeing the dust kicked up by the drumming hooves. The only thing I remember was me, my essence, my soul, popping out of my body several seconds before it was caught up in a stampede. I didn’t feel my arm caught in the stirrup or sense the impact of the horse’s body as he twisted me around and slammed me with his head. I watched myself cry out as I got squished between the other horses’ flanks.

Nor did I feel anything as my skull smashed into the concrete feed trough before I collapsed, unmoving. The total calm and serenity that I, the observer, felt was a stark contrast to my screaming human form. I wondered if everyone disconnected like this before they died?

As the dust settled, I looked down at the empty, crumpled shell. I knew I would never get up again. The whole event only lasted about 30 seconds.

So writes Lesley Joan Lupo in a fascinating account of her near-death experience and her trip ‘Upstairs’ to the realm beyond space and time. Remember, Every Breath is Precious: Dying Taught Me How to Livegives us a glimpse of what might await us all beyond our physical lives.