The Soft Gate of Dying: A Sacred Passage
I have died a hundred times.
And yet—I live.
But not as I once did. Each passing, however brief, has removed a layer of illusion. Like skin peeled from the soul, these small deaths have revealed a deeper life waiting underneath. To many, the phrase “a hundred deaths” might sound like poetic exaggeration. But for me, it is literal—a recurring walk to the edge of the veil and back again.
My wife calls them strokes—transient ischemic attacks (TIAs)—small, undramatic cerebral hemorrhages that ripple silently through my brain like hidden earthquakes. They began when I was a child, and they have followed me ever since. Sometimes subtle, sometimes violent, often arriving like thieves in the night.
I call them thresholds.
For in the wake of these tremors, my human consciousness thins. And with each thinning, the kingdom of God draws near.
Melchize: The Priesthood of Deathlessness
Gate 13: Melchize speaks of the eternal priesthood—the divine nature within that cannot die. Christ was not a priest after the order of Levi, but of Melchizedek: without father, without mother, without beginning of days or end of life. (Hebrews 7:3)
And in these death-moments, I feel that nature rise within me. Not fear, but freedom. Not loss, but liberation.
The seizures often come at night. I slip from the body. I fall away from my name. My memories vanish like smoke. And for three to five seconds—a sliver of eternity—I am no longer who I was.
I am light.
I am breath.
I am home.
The Baptism of the Nervous System
What if the soul must be rewired not only by divine grace, but by divine rupture? My convulsions, painful and disorienting as they are, feel like internal earthquakes—shaking the foundations of my neural temple. But when the shaking stops, something beautiful emerges.
The Gospel of Philip teaches: “Those who say they will die first and then rise are in error. If they do not first receive the resurrection while they live, when they die they will receive nothing.”
These deaths, then, are not ends. They are midwives.
Each one births me more deeply into the Kingdom.
IV. The Womb of Resurrection
In Gate 14: The Womb of Resurrection, death is not a coffin but a cradle. It is the return to the Divine Mother, whose womb gestates the Immortal Body. Every time I convulse, I am pulled back into her—a spiral, a pull, a fall… and then, a flight.
Suddenly, I find myself in another place.
- A glowing room of soft sapphire light
- A bed I lie on, yet simultaneously rise from
- A window and a door that seem familiar, though I’ve never known them
Other times, I float through worlds of unspeakable beauty:
- Crimson crystal cities that shimmer like ruby flame
- Towering mountains kissed by violet skies
- Forests alive with awareness
- Lakes like mirrors of God’s breath
Each time I return from these places, I long to stay. Not to escape life, but to bring that life back with me. It’s as though Heaven leaves fingerprints on my soul.
Asher: The Feast of the Soul
In Gate 5: Asher, we learn that the true feast is not food but spirit. It is divine nourishment from the unseen table. When I enter these otherworlds, I partake of that feast. It sustains me, renews me, and—though only for seconds—feeds me with the bread of light.
The blood may clot, the nerves may misfire, but in that fracture, I am fed.
Is Death Painful?
No. Death is not what we were taught.
“We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed.” —1 Corinthians 15:51
The actual moment of ‘dying’—what I’ve experienced a hundred times—is painless. It is a sudden loosening, a falling away of weight. The nervous system shuts off like a light switch. One moment you are here, bound. The next, you are there, in what I can only describe as hyper-reality.
It is not a hallucination. It is not a metaphor. It is more real than this waking world. And the mind, even in its altered state, recognizes it as true home.
The Addictive Beauty of the Unseen
There is an allure to these experiences. Not because they are escapes, but because they feel like remembrances—as if each death is a whisper saying: “You’ve been here before. You belong here.”
It reminds me of what Jesus said in John 14:2:
“In my Father’s house are many mansions… I go to prepare a place for you.”
I believe I’ve seen some of those mansions.
Not metaphorically—but in radiant, living detail.
Don’t Wait to Die
I say this to you with urgency: You don’t have to die to see God.
You don’t need a stroke, a seizure, or a near-death experience to enter Heaven. The veil is already thinning. If my suffering has taught me anything, it’s this: thin your consciousness intentionally.
Through:
- Prayer that opens the heart
- Fasting that clarifies the soul
- Meditation that silences the mind
- Service that empties the self
Make space.
The divine wants to meet you.
The Slumber That Awakens
Jesus said, “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:32)
Death, as I’ve experienced it, is not an enemy. It is a silent friend. A soft slumber that awakens us not into darkness—but into the light of who we truly are.
Even if I live another ten years, I’ve already died enough times to know this:
- You are not your body
- You are not your mind
- You are the light behind both
So fear not the hundred deaths. They are doors.
And the real tragedy is never opening one.
✧
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