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No Fear of Dying

A Man Finds The Fear - and Hope - of Death Removed

By Ben Hunter

In 1979 I had a dream within a dream which changed my view of death overnight.

At the time I was very unhappy and wanted nothing more than to run my life into the ground and be done with it.

In the midst of this despair, I was given a book written by the modern day founder of Eckankar, Paul Twitchell. It was the only light in my otherwise darkened world. After reading it I had this dream – if truly it can be called such, for I have no recall of falling asleep that night. As soon as I lay my head on the pillow, I stepped into the midst of another life.

I could recall another childhood with different siblings, a complete set of memories, hopes, and dreams leading to that present moment. I was in the intelligence branch of the British Army in World War II. Crowds surged in the streets as I hurried unnoticed down the less-crowded back roads to a prearranged rendezvous.

Climbing the stairs of the appointed building, my thoughts turned to the recent events of the war. I was vitally interested in what new strategy would be laid before me behind the closed door ahead. But when I saw their plan, I was speechless with anger. I was to impersonate an enemy informant in a meeting with a key Nazi officer. It was madness, for I knew the officer was far too familiar with the man I would impersonate to be taken in. But I had no choice. I had my orders and would fulfill them the best I could.

When I arrived the next day in the clearing that was our appointed meeting place, the officer was waiting for me with a dozen armed escorts. As I approached, our eyes locked, and immediately I realized that he knew I was an impostor. I turned and fled. His soldiers gave chase as he barked commands.

I ran for the woods on a small path covered with pine needles. As I crested a small rise, I tripped and fell, protected momentarily by the hill. I had no time to think, however, as bullets flew.

I jumped up and whirled to face my attackers, who were less than forty yards away. Two soldiers fired simultaneously, machine guns clutched to their hips, striking me in the stomach and chest. As I fell, I began to leave that body. Then my viewpoint shifted back to the ground for a moment. As I looked out of the eyes, I saw only the ground all around me. But at the same time I was aware of an overview, as if this whole forest were the stage of a theater, and I the director peering down from above.

I felt the footsteps of an approaching soldier and watched from above as the commander directed him to finish me off. He placed the barrel of his rifle directly under my right armpit and pulled the trigger.

The bullet dove into my body like a diver through multicolored waters, taking my consciousness with it. All else was gone now, as image after image hurtled by: Queen Victoria, regiments in red coats, lives in Rome, Greece – back further and further in time until finally there was only a stream of orange-and-yellow-and-gold light.

I finally came to rest. First, in a place where I seemed to be lying on black rocks, by a black ocean with the waves pounding me under a black sky. Then this too faded, until I was only a thin line of beingness stretched from here to there, with no thought in between but the feeling of lying on my back and on my stomach, and on the ceiling and on the floor – all at the same time; none more than the other.

There was no body and no thought; no images to grasp, but still there was beingness. Then there came a twist, a snapping of this thin line of consciousness that sent a ripple the length of my universe. I wanted nothing more than to remain in this place, but this was not to be. As the impulse rolled through my being, I moved with it and was sent spiraling down, back toward the human state of consciousness.

I awoke with a start and sat straight up in bed, drenched with sweat. The shock waves continued to roll through me as I became – as if for the first time – the person I am now. The experience and the expansion of consciousness it brought was too great to hold in my human awareness.

Overwhelmed, I got up and headed for the bathroom. As I walked shakily down the hall, my brother poked his head out of the next room. He rubbed his face sleepily, but his eye was sharp as he asked, “You OK?”

“I guess so, “ I said. “Go back to sleep.” He shambled back to bed, and I returned to mine.

Now I entered another state. The next thing I knew, I was again suddenly awakening in bed with the first experience vividly impressed on my mind. As I reviewed each vivid scene, it all began to feel more like a dream – until I came to the sequence with my brother. Then a tingle went up my spine. My brother was not next door, but thousands of miles away in northern Africa.

I knew then that I could never cease to exist. Death was only a transition from one life to another and could provide no escape from this life. Whatever problems I faced would surely follow me, life after life, until I worked them out as Soul. As I sat quietly in bed, I became aware of Paul Twitchell looking at me from outside my window as the dawn broke over the tops of the trees.

You see, his look seemed to say, this is the way it is.

And I did see. With the fear – and hope – of death removed, there was nothing to do but get on with life and solve it’s mysteries.

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