It’s almost my anniversary! Over several decades ago I received an O.B.E. Fantastic, huh? Err, well, maybe it would be if I was actually referring to the award for Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire. However, I’m not.
O.B.E also happens to be an acronym for Out of Body Experience, and this is the O.B.E. I’m talking about. I don’t think it has quite the same status, prestige and acceptability as a Queen’s medal, nor does it roll off the tongue and land in the ears with the same gratifying plumliness (yes, I just invented that word). Additionally, people don’t generally race to congratulate you on this kind of O.B.E. But it sure does take you places. In my case, it took me behind myself into the rear seat of the vehicle I was driving, observing my body continue to attempt to navigate its way out of the car accident it couldn’t avoid. It was a bit like watching Jason Bourne in a car chase scene on the big screen – or Cameron Diaz, if I’m gender correct…and also wishful.
Some ‘science’ claims that O.B.E’s can be a type of adrenal/intelligence coping method – meaning you haven’t actually left your body, you’re just imagining it in some super-computer part of your brain and it’s not actually happening at all. Having had the said experience, however, I strongly disagree. I did leave my body.
Memories of this experience are entwined into my first novel, The Bright New Dawn, partly as a creative act, but mostly because it’s one of the most vivid and deeply profound few seconds in my life. Whilst it’s true I didn’t get to shake the Queen’s hand, I did receive a radical amount of information in a very short space of time and also a new and expanded window through which to view life. Trust me, you don’t forget the experience of being suspended in space as if you’re, well, space itself really; where an aspect of you is fully aware, conscious, and knows exactly what’s going on.
In my case I got to consider my life, long and hard, in those micro-moments…and how I felt about it. You’ve probably heard about this ponderous reflective phenomenon before, in relation to N.D.E’s…and no, an N.D.E is not another Queen’s Award, it’s a Near Death Experience, which is second cousin to the O.B.E – or the other way around.
My N.D.E and O.B.E changed my life. Not immediately, though. Back then I was a 22 year old on a mission to get to the New Zealand lake town of Wanaka for New Year’s Eve celebrations. It was a calm overcast morning on the 28th December (coincidentally, the same date my dear Dad passed away exactly 23 years later), and about 8am when the mysterious event occurred. My wee civic was cruising at 100km ground speed and altitude when I glanced down below the dash for barely a split second. As fate and an empty stomach would have it, I swerved slightly, course corrected, and the back wheels clipped thick gravel on the side of the road. Before I knew it, I was careering across the – thankfully empty – road toward a concrete barrier that separated the road and the lake. The strangest thing was that as the O.B.E occurred, I was totally aware that the accident was no accident at all. The part of me suspended in time and space behind myself seemed as calm and prepared for the unfolding events as if it had a diary appointment to meet an old friend at a favorite cafe.
So as I pondered existence, observing my body before me whilst reclining ethereally in the back seat, I realized three significant things in that other-worldly, in-between realm: One, I didn’t know much about existence; two, I wasn’t as happy about life as I thought I was; and three, I had a choice to stay OR to exit this planet and its particular reality.
I can tell you, it’s a heckuva responsibility and decision to be entrusted with in the timeframe of one tiny second. And honestly, I wasn’t totally sure which way to go, because I knew that if I did live then some things would need to change. And I wasn’t quite sure how to do that, what it would look like, or who I would be – because up until that point I didn’t realize how much things DID need to change.
To cut the longest second of my life short, I realized ‘I want to live.’ Except, add five hundred times the passion and immediacy and you’ll get the intensity my decision was delivered with. Then, BOOM, I was back in my body, spinning that car wheel furiously….at least as good as Jason Bourne. I’m not sure how you actually turn a vehicle at a complete right angle within a second and a small width of road, but that’s exactly what occurred. Miraculously.
So what happened next? To be honest, once I’d scrambled out of my written-off car, booting one of the wheels with annoyance on the way (yes, I actually did that), I had the wreck towed to the local garage, and then (believe it or not) I hitched a lift to Wanaka where I spent four days on a drinking bender. NOT the smartest thing to do after a near fatal car accident, and while accommodating a wicked dose of whiplash.
As the bender wore off and reality bit hard, I began to suffer from depression – territory I was unfamiliar with. I disappeared overseas six months later and got lost ‘finding myself’. Occasionally I romanticize about this period of life being a little like Brad Pitt’s journey in ‘Legends of the Fall.’ It wasn’t, however. I never expected to be away from my home country for nine years, but a mythological quest can sure chew through time. It was a long journey back to life forming a new Self based on the integration of my body, mind AND spirit. It took considerable time and many years to assimilate my O.B.E, make sense of it, and unite the different aspects of myself.
Looking back almost twenty-five years ago at that big wake-up call, now I see I was handed a gift. It didn’t always seem that way though, because whilst others were doing some kind of ‘normal’, a part of me was still partially suspended between two worlds in the waiting room of another seemingly more honest reality. Over the years I’ve had to figure out (and feel) a lot of things to become a truly undivided and whole self. It wasn’t just integrating the O.B.E, though. Along the way I also discovered how out of alignment and, well, blinkered large parts of humanity was and still seems to be. But hey, it’s not as if schooling, government and the larger human society strives utterly to lift you out of the muck and mud and say, ‘Go find your REAL self beyond everything you’re told and whilst you have the good graces to still be in your body.’ No, you don’t commonly hear that. It’s not generally encouraged. Unfortunately widespread global systemic dysfunction appears to be some of the price we pay for this.
Respectfully, Eyes Wide Open is not necessarily for everyone, I get that. It’s not a journey for the faint hearted. And I’m well aware the Queen doesn’t hand out E.W.O awards for it either. For those that prefer not to delve more deeply into life – who perhaps have found your small slice of nirvana, or you’re comfortable traversing mud-eating, mud-sliding and mud-slinging terrain, I understand. No judgment. Although, I confess, a little frustration on behalf of future generations. But for those who strive to live and interpret your existence beyond what you’ve been conditioned with…I salute you.
This Christmas I’m wishing for what I have for much of my life: world peace. Let’s start with that: a more humane and caring civilization, one that relates to its home planet and all species sustainably. Yes, I’m aware that requires evolution, but for those that don’t think it’s possible, or are cynically world weary, I suspect you’ve spent a touch too long in the mud and muck, buried beneath layers of conditionality and indoctrination. Or maybe you just don’t want it enough. Twenty-five years on from my car accident, it’s easy for me to spot the impact of that precious second in the waiting room between here and the afterlife. That place sure does give you perspective.
Louise’s extensive experiences and background have led her to become a visionary and inspiring Author, Storyteller and Life Coach.
Louise’s published work includes novels: ‘The Bright New Dawn’ and ‘Her Eight Limbs of Love.’
www.louisebeker.com
www.facebook.com/louisebeker.author