April 16, 2021—a day like any other—or so I thought. I felt the familiar flood of thoughts racing through my mind. My past, my struggles, my unanswered prayers. The promises I had made to myself and the ones I had broken. The dreams I had envisioned and the uncertainties that loomed over them. I took a deep breath, ending my meditation and whispered, “God, reveal to me what I need to know now.” Then, I went to take a bath.

That’s when it happened. A sudden tightness in my chest. A tickle in my throat that morphed into something more. Within seconds, I was gasping for air— No breath. “What the heck?” I stumbled out of the bathroom, my heart pounding wildly. Panic surged through me as my body refused to cooperate. My lungs fought for oxygen, but it was as if the air itself had disappeared. My vision blurred. My knees buckled.

And then a memory surfaced. One that I had brushed off as unimportant just two months earlier. I was at the airport in Jamaica, preparing to leave for New York. My partner had been unusually insistent, arguing with me about taking an asthma pump. “I do not have asthma! Why do you keep insisting I take this with me?” I protested. “Nick, you never know!” he shot back. “Just take the damn pump!” With an exaggerated sigh, I grabbed it, rolling my eyes at his persistence. I had no intention of using it. But now, as I stood in my apartment, gasping for air, I knew. That was no ordinary argument. That was divine intervention, God using someone I trusted as a vessel to prepare me for a moment I hadn’t even known was coming.

I reached for the pump with trembling hands. "It’s too late. I don’t have the strength to press it. I don’t even know how to use it properly." Just then, my phone rang. I struggled to answer, my fingers barely responsive, but somehow, the face recognition feature connected the call before the phone slipped from my grip. On the other end was my partner in Jamaica. He had no idea what was happening to me, yet in that moment, he felt an urgent pull to “Call Nick.” He listened to that intuition—at the exact time I could not breathe. Later, I realized the synchronicity. He, being asthmatic, must have instinctively recognized the sound of someone gasping for breath. Through the phone, I could hear his frantic voice. “Nick, get the pump! Press and swallow!”

At that point, I believe I was unresponsive. The last thought I had was not one of fear, but irritation. "Damn it. My sister and brother-in-law are going to come home and find me dead… naked on the floor." That distinct annoyance washed over me, mingled with the undeniable reality: I was dying. Then the world faded.

I don’t know how much time passed, but suddenly, I was elsewhere. My body remained in the physical realm, but my spirit was in a place of brilliant pure white light, unlike anything I had ever seen. There were no distinct forms, yet I was surrounded by something familiar, something loving. I felt no fear, no worry. Only an overwhelming sense of peace and love, a love unlike anything I had ever experienced in my earthly existence. I knew my grandmother’s essence was near. I knew Archangel Raphael was present. How? I can’t explain it. I just knew.

Though I saw no faces at first, I felt the presence of beings made of light, or orbs, guiding me. I didn’t even look down to check for my own body, I just felt at home.

To my right, a vision unfolded, a vast space filled with honeycomb-like pods. It was unlike anything I had ever encountered, yet it felt oddly familiar. The colors were beyond our earthly spectrum, a fusion of radiant hues that do not exist in this world. Each pod seemed to contain knowledge, timeless infinite knowledge.

A holographic screen appeared effortlessly, sliding out like an invisible drawer. It was my life. Not like watching a movie, but as if I was inside the experiences themselves. I saw flashes of my past, different lifetimes, moments that had shaped me. And somehow, I didn’t question it. There was no thinking, only knowing. No doubt. Just the truth.

Had I been in my human mind, I might have panicked. “What type of Twilight Zone crap is this?!” But there, in that space, I felt ease, an acceptance that transcended anything logical. Then the images began to move, and I was pulled deeper into the vision/scene.

I experienced three distinct scenes from my life, each unfolding like a vivid memory, yet carrying an intensity beyond simple recollection. I cannot find human words to adequately describe these scenes, but I felt as if I was within the memory but having, not my own feelings, but those of the individuals I was with.

First, I found myself as a five-year-old girl, dressed in a beautiful red dress. My older sister was helping me get ready, and as she did, I felt something profound—not my own emotions, but hers. It was as if I could hear her unspoken thoughts, a whisper in the air: “I will protect you from what I went through.” The weight of her silent promise wrapped around me, filling my small body with an understanding far beyond my years. And I saw and experienced the childhood trauma she had faced and I simply knew everything about her. In respect for her privacy, this scene of her life, I cannot share.

Then, in an instant, I was transported to my seventh-grade high school days. A young boy had a crush on me and gifted me a rose for Valentine's Day. I was young, naïve, and inexperienced, what Jamaicans might call fool-fool. Embarrassed, I refused the rose. But in that moment, I felt something unexpected: his heartbreak. It was as if his emotions flooded into me, and I became acutely aware of his pain, every nuance, every silent ache.

Next, I recalled a moment in adulthood when I had offered to pay for an elderly woman’s groceries at the supermarket. As she accepted, a wave of emotions radiated from her—relief, gratitude, and an overwhelming sense of love. It was more than just a simple act of kindness; I could feel how deeply it had impacted her. Later, I would come to understand why: she had stepped into that store with only faith, having prayed for help. That one act of generosity became the confirmation she needed—that God had heard her, that she was not alone. I saw that that act of kindness also fed three neighbor children and I was fast-forwarded into that lady's life to where she imparted the same kindness to her children and how many times her own daughter had helped others with that same story that her mother had told her.

Then, something incredible happened. In this space beyond time, I encountered an orb radiating a brilliant light. It was the beautiful soul of the boy from high school, emanating pure love. Soon after, I saw the apparition of the elderly woman, her spirit appearing as a towering orb of golden-yellow and blue light. And in that moment, I understood the weight of it all. They both had changed forms and were no longer in physical bodies. They were both just immense love. There is no death. I knew then that our loved ones do not disappear into nothingness. They simply change their physical form, returning to the embrace of God’s infinite love.

For much of my life, I feared death. The pain, the suffering, the judgment. But what I now know is that while there is a physical departure from this world, it is not the end of who we are. I know that I had this thought and immediately I knew the answer, like watching a slide, like an aspect in time. And I saw that, at the moment of transition, we are met by loved ones, by guides who have walked with us throughout our earthly journey.

And at some point, we undergo something akin to a life review, a moment of reckoning where we see, feel, and face the life we lived. But here’s the truth: There is no outside judgment. No vengeful being waiting to condemn or ridicule us. The only judgment we face is our own. We experience everything—the love we gave, the harm we caused. We stand before our own choices, feeling them from the perspective of those we touched, for better or worse. It is a karmic process, a mirror that reflects everything we have been.

There is, however, something I would describe as a spiritual rehabilitation. I saw a glimpse of a space for those who made dark choices in life. And then this clip was gone, but I knew what it meant. They are not cast away or punished as the stories we were told about hell, but rather guided by angels, helping them to transmute the pain they caused back into love. Some souls move through this quickly, while others linger for what seems like eons, reluctant to face the weight of their actions. But God, in infinite love and patience, allows each soul the time they need to choose healing.

I was brought up Christian, so hell and Satan are a big thing. I had fear towards heaven and hell. And I simply knew the answer—for some, this space can feel, look and become their own fiery pit of hell, not because they are sentenced to eternal suffering, but because they are trapped in their own unwillingness to trust that God still loves them. God does not cast anyone into hell. Many souls, however, create their own, remaining in darkness because they do not believe they are worthy of love after the awareness of the choices they made. They cannot forgive themselves.

I saw that those who had chosen paths of destruction—murderers, terrorists, even those who had surrendered their power to darkness, were not condemned by God, but rather by their own refusal to accept divine love. Suicide, too, may lead to this crossroads, where the soul must decide to face what they left behind and seek reconciliation with their own choices. Many find themselves in a state of separation, not because God rejects them, but because they cannot yet accept love. And yet, the moment they turn to God, the moment they trust in His love, darkness loses all power. Satan, as we were taught to fear, has no dominion. Darkness feeds only on fear, shame, and judgment. But when we surrender to love, it ceases to exist. I learned something else in this experience, something that shattered my previous beliefs. Satan has no power. The thought of Satan is not even called that there. Simply ‘darkness.’

Darkness exists, yes, but it does not have dominion over us unless we allow it to. It is also an energetic essence and it feeds on fear, shame, and judgment, keeping souls trapped in suffering even after death. It cannot affect you unless you welcome it by withholding love from yourself and giving it power over your better judgment. But the moment we trust in God’s love, the darkness loses its grip entirely.

We are not meant to live in fear. We are not meant to carry shame. The truth is, we were never separate from love. Even in the darkest choices, even in our worst moments, God has always been present—not with judgment, but with open arms.

Heaven is not a distant realm—it is the presence of God’s love, where there is no fear, no pain, no condemnation. And we are always being called back to it. This is why I was shown those three specific moments in my life review. Not because they were the most dramatic or significant in a worldly sense, but because they were moments where my actions, both good and bad, left a lasting imprint on another soul. Every interaction matters. Every choice sends ripples through the universe.

The golden rule, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," is not just a moral teaching, it is a fundamental law of existence. My near-death experience revealed that nothing goes unnoticed. Every moment, every action, every emotion is recorded in the fabric of our being. There is no escaping what we put out into the world, because ultimately, we are all one. But the truth is not one of punishment, it is one of empowerment. We hold the power to shape our own existence. We do not need to wait for death to understand these lessons. We can choose, right now, to live in alignment with love, kindness, and gratitude.

And when we do, we don’t just transform our own lives, we illuminate the world. I came to understand that this process is not forced. The moment we change form from the physical body to spirit, we become aware of everything we have ever done that was not rooted in LOVE. We feel, firsthand, the impact of our actions on those we hurt. We are immediately faced with every choice, thought or action we ever took that was outside of love.

Now I understand what my guide told me. “The love you withhold is the pain you carry.” A soul struggling to accept the weight of their choices may take time to process their actions, leaving them in a lower vibrational state, what many call the underworld or hell. I cannot fathom what it must be like for a serial killer or someone who has spent their life making dark choices. They will have to endure the pain and suffering they inflicted upon others, witnessing how their actions rippled through generations. That is an unbearable weight for a spirit to face. Because chances are they also left a negative imprint on their own generation's life path. No wonder they keep themselves hidden in shame, creating their own personal hell. Yet, even with all of that, God loves everyone. The real question is: Do we love ourselves? Because if we do, we will face what we have done and accept God’s love.

At that moment, I was stripped of all the worries that had weighed on me: money, health, the state of the world. None of it mattered. Instead, I was engulfed by an overwhelming love. And I kept hearing the phrase: “KNOW THYSELF.” I don’t know if it was a telepathic message or an audible voice—I just knew that was what was being conveyed.

On the other side, there was no concept of time. I can’t say how long this lasted. It felt eternal, yet in our linear world, it must have been a few minutes. Then, I felt the presence of my grandmother surrounding me. I could not see her, but heard, “It’s time to go.” My immediate thought was, “Go where? I like it here.” The city was beyond magnificent. As if it was made of crystals and the colors are unworldly. I had not one thought of anything other than love and I wanted to stay right there.

My grandmother now showed herself as a young version of herself. Long curly hair and just immensely beautiful. She said one more time, “You have to go,” and, with what felt like a hug, I was gone from this beautiful place. And then, darkness. But I wasn’t afraid. Instead, I felt safe.

Slowly, I began to regain awareness of my physical body, starting with my toes. The last thing I remember hearing was: “Know Thyself. Be the Light. Be the Love.” Then I saw a pinhole of light. As that tiny light expanded, so did my breath, struggling to return to my physical body. I was back. I heard my partner’s panicked voice shouting: "Nick, PUMP and SWALLOW!" I started to move my fingers, and literally felt the life slowly move up my fingers and toes like a warm essence flowing through my body. The asthma pump was beneath my hand. I slowly inhaled, swallowed, once, twice, three times. And then, breath. I picked up the phone from the floor and saw my partner’s face, filled with worry. "How do you feel?" "What happened?" "Keep pumping and swallow!" I managed to say, “I’m back. I don’t need it.” He kept repeating his instructions, but I was still trying to process what had just happened. It must be real. I almost died. Or... did I die?

And then, something I didn’t experience on the other side came crashing in: FEAR—I can’t tell anyone. They’ll think I’m crazy. They’ll lock me in a madhouse for sure. JUDGMENT—what did I do to deserve this? Maybe I didn’t go to church enough. All my old worries returned, tenfold. But then, I stopped myself with a single thought: “You just met with ANGELS, your SPIRIT TEAM, and your GRANDMOTHER!” “Girl, you just died.” And then, a surge of what I thought were goosebumps flowed through me, followed by a warm rush of love.

That was when I knew, I had gone to the other side. I had connected with Spirit. And I had felt God’s divine love. AHHH. And I took a breath, one that felt like it lasted an eternity. As my breath steadied, something else became clear: We are never alone. That experience—so sudden, so terrifying—was not random. It was orchestrated. And it left me with an undeniable truth: God’s plan is always in motion, even when we don’t understand it.

I realized then that life and death are not separate. We exist in both realms at all times, only shifting between awareness of the physical and the spiritual. That’s why, in the moments between life and death, many describe a feeling of weightlessness, of familiarity—because our soul has never truly left God’s presence. We only think we have.

I have come to believe that we never truly leave heaven, we just dream that we do. Our soul, eternal and infinite, is always with God. It simply chooses to experience itself in different forms, different lifetimes, and different dimensions. Reincarnation and resurrection, concepts often treated as separate truths, are actually one and the same. The soul is limitless, unrestricted by time. Some may return to Earth. Others may ascend to different planes of existence. But the essence of who we are never dies.

I now understand that God’s plan is not for us to be fearful of death, but to embrace life—fully, unapologetically, without the weight of fear holding us back. Death is not an end. It is a transition. And when we truly grasp that, we begin to live with greater intention.

That day changed everything for me. It made me realize that the universe speaks in whispers long before it speaks in shouts. God had been preparing me for that moment, through my partner’s words, through subtle nudges, through divine synchronicities that I had ignored. And how often do we dismiss the signs God gives us, only to later realize they were instructions for something greater? This experience was a lesson, a message from the Divine:

Pay attention. Trust the journey. Nothing is ever out of place. I had been clinging to control, demanding answers, expecting a roadmap for my future. But God was showing me something more profound: You do not need to see the whole plan. You just need to trust that there is one. And so, I surrendered.

The synchronicities surrounding my near-death experience were not mere coincidences; they were orchestrated by spirit long before I realized what was coming. My partner, who was in Jamaica at the time, later shared that he had an intuitive pull to ensure I brought an asthma pump with me. It was a device I had never used and didn’t believe I needed. As we headed to the airport, I found the pump in my handbag and insisted it wasn’t necessary. Yet, he remained firm, urging me to keep it, a decision that would prove vital. On that fateful day, he felt an urgent compulsion to “Call Nick NOW!” and did so at the precise moment my body was failing me. Somehow, the phone I couldn’t reach answered itself, placing him on speaker without my intervention. Though he couldn’t see me, he sensed my distress.

This was no accident; it was preparation, a divine orchestration by God for reasons beyond my understanding. When I arrived at Kings County Hospital, the doctor told me, "Please do not use asthma pumps. There is no sign of asthma, and you should not take medication that isn’t prescribed to you. You likely had an anxiety attack and blacked out." She was right about the prescription, but what she didn’t know was that I was completely fine before I got there. I knew, deep within, that God had planned the entire experience.