Jeff Cleckley's NDE and Finding His Spiritual Purpose

I have read and/or listened to many people and their accounts of their near-death experiences. Many of them are truly fascinating.  One in particular that has continuously circulated in my mind in recent weeks is Jeff Cleckley's. Cleckley had his NDE in 2013.   He had been battling severe physical pain, pneumonia, and a MRSA infection when he overdosed on opioid painkillers.

In his near-death account, Cleckley recalls losing interest in his Earthly life when he crossed over, although the one thing that still concerned him was leaving behind his 4 year old son.  He had a detailed life review where he could see how his actions affected others, for both good and ill.

Other highlights of his experience include:

- realizing why so often our prayers are ineffective.  Hint: we're doing it wrong!

- protesting to his spirit guides after his life review that he didn't have the tools to live his life successfully on Earth.

- being told by his guides that humanity has been on a path of self-destruction

- the importance of loving everyone and everything, and not letting fear and doubt ruin our lives. 

Cleckley came back a deeply changed man and put his newfound spiritual gifts to work.  He spent more time meditating and being out in nature.  He was able to recognize people's inner pain and started communicating with angels. In another instance, he visited his dying nephew in the hospital, who was in the ICU and who had also overdosed on drugs.  The night before the plug was to be pulled, Cleckley went into a deep meditative state where he saw Jesus and was able to talk to his nephew and convince him to return.  The following day his nephew regained consciousness and eventually recovered.

I found Cleckley's account deeply touching and inspiring.  You can hear his story, as well as those from many other near-death experiencers,  through The Other Side NDE channel on YouTube.

Words to Ponder Over: Scott Snibbe

 

In recent days I've been wading through Scott Snibbe's book "How to Train a Happy Mind: a Skeptic's Path to Enlightenment."  Snibbe considers himself a secular Buddhist -- in other words, he only espouses the parts of Buddhism that can be backed up by modern science.  But you don't necessarily have to convert to Buddhism or become a skeptic to appreciate the numerous gems of insight and wisdom in his book.  I wanted to include an excerpt, and I am extremely grateful to Scott for letting me do so.

Do you ever find yourself getting angry, annoyed, or upset with someone?  Of course!  We all have that experience.  Maybe, as Snibbe suggests, we should learn how to be more compassionate to our fellow humans.  One way of doing this is to picture this person at the end of their lives:

"As you encounter people in your daily life, a powerful meditation on impermanence is to picture the moment each one of them was born.  Imagine their mother's pain, her exhaustion and joy at creating a fragile new being whose life depends on her.  Then, try to imagine how that person will eventually die -- alone or surrounded by loved ones, agitated or at peace.  This technique is especially helpful when you are angry with someone because it helps put your dispute in perspective.  Picture the end of that person's life: in a hospital bed or at home, after a life that was long or short, a life of virtue or misbehavior, a life ending among friends or silently alone."

Personal Musings: You're Never the Same, But It Does Get Better

 It’s hard to believe that it’s been over three years since I started this blog, and going on four years since the deaths in my family in 2021.  One thing I wish was that I was more consistent with my posting!  Sometimes I go through dry spells when I can’t think of anything, and other times I have a bunch of things I could mention.

A few weeks ago I sent the following text to my long-distance friend Kari:

"You know what?  Things get better.  I mean, I know I'm never going to fully heal from everything that's happened over these last few years, but that's ok.  Just need to keep pressing forward!"

Kari's response: "Write a blog post on that."  Ok, so here goes...

Yes, I have found that things do improve over time, and it's not the same for any two people.  Some people might feel significantly better in a few months, and for others it might take a few years.  One podcaster I regularly listen to used a great analogy to describe living a life of religious faith, and I think it can apply equally well to how we recover from grief: we think that over time it will be a continuously upward trend, when in reality it looks more like the Dow Jones Index.    One day we might feel like we're getting through things reasonably well, and the next day we might feel we're on the verge of another emotional meltdown.  The important thing is to be forgiving of ourselves and realize that the journey to recovery from grief has its own bumps and detours along the way.

And things get better in increments.  There’s a saying that’s stuck with me, and I don’t know if I posted this already, but the saying goes that the first week of grief is the hardest, then the first month is the hardest, then the first year is the hardest, then the first five years are the hardest, etc.  For me, 2022 and the first half of 2023 were extremely difficult.  The second half of 2023 got a little better....and then 2024 got a little better....and then 2025, so far, has been a little better....

I realize there's no going back to the way things were.  And maybe we're not supposed to, if that means we lose the lessons and knowledge and experiences and wisdom we've picked up since our losses. And yet, and yet...I wonder if it isn't still possible, in some way.  I have had many dreams in the last three and a half years where I've been back in my childhood home, and in other cases my grandparents' home, but not as a child, but as the person I am now...back with my mom and grandparents, relating to them as I am now, not as the naive and inexperienced child I was then.  So maybe it is possible, in a sense, to go back to the way things were  when we take leave of this world, but in a way that is infinitely better than it was before.  We can only hope....

One thing I've noticed:  I don't have the energy I did 5 years ago -- I get tired much more quickly than I used to.  But I don't mope and complain about it.  As we ourselves get older, we make adjustments to our new reality and keep pressing on, like the runner who falls down in the middle of a race, picks him/herself back up, and limps their way towards the finish line.  It doesn't matter that they finish last -- what matters is that they keep pressing forward.  And so it is the same with us -- to keep pushing on towards the finish line, to live a life that proved worth living.  When my time comes to leave this Earth, I hope I can reunite with all my loved ones who have left before me, and I want them to be proud of the journey I made while I was here.  I wish the same to be true for all of you as well.

Words to Ponder Over: St. Francis of Assisi

From St. Francis of Assisi (circa 1181-1226): 

“Remember that when you leave this Earth, you can take with you nothing that you have received — only what you have given: a full heart, enriched by honest service, love, sacrifice, and courage.”