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Research paper delivered June 26, 2004 in Evanston, IL
P.M.H.Atwater, L.H.D., Ph.D. (Hon.)
P. O. Box 7691 Charlottesville, VA 22906-7691
© 2004 P.M.H.Atwater, L.H.D., Ph.D. (Hon.)
I didn't begin my research of near-death states as most of you did, and I
didn't end it the same way, either. Forgive me if I sound too personal for
a researcher, but there are times when deviating from protocol is appropriate.
This is such a time.
After 26 years of fieldwork with near-death studies, using police investigative
techniques for my methodology, I am withdrawing from the active role I have had
in the past. I am not "retiring" per se, as I plan to remain involved
as much as possible, be available as a consultant, give talks and workshops,
and eventually finish the theoretical model I have been building since I first
started. The bulk of my work in the future will involve subjects of related interest,
like the afterlife, the soul, death and dying, evolution, etc. This includes
my interest in divinatory skills and rune casting, as my book, Goddess Runes (1996)
will soon be republished.
There is no denying my beginnings as a researcher. It was the Voice I heard in
my third near-death experience which declared: "Test revelation. You are
to do the research. One book for each death." Book one was not named, books
two and three were. I was shown what the message meant, what was to be in each
book, yet no mention was made of how to do the job or how long it might take
me. It wasn't until the following year at O'Hare Airport, when I met Elisabeth
Kubler-Ross that I learned what I was to research had a name, "The Near-Death
Experience," and that I was a "Near-Death Survivor" (her term).
Talking with her was helpful, still, our discussion actually created more questions
in my mind than it gave answers. That was July, 1978. I began my research in
November. Three years later Kenneth Ring telephoned. He had heard of me and wondered
if we could meet. He and his companion became our guests at our home, then in
Harrisonburg, Virginia. We talked nearly all night. He was amazed at the data
I had gleaned already from my work; I was equally amazed to learn that anyone
else was doing the same thing. It was Ken who told me about Raymond Moody and
his book, Life After Life (1975), and insisted that I, too, write a book
about what I had discovered.
June 8, 2004, while I was putting together the research paper I would deliver
at the IANDS Conference in Evanston, Illinois, the air around me filled with
sparkles and the sparkles came together and formed a sentence. Suspended in air
in front of my nose were the words: "Your work is now complete." It
was over, just like that, just that fast. I had not decided anything, thought
anything, when suddenly 26 years of work halted. During that time I averaged
a six-day week, 8 to 10 hours per day, turning down most opportunities to party,
vacation, or relax.
I cannot adequately describe for you what that was like, that moment. The passion
that drove me to do this work was relentless and I was unstoppable. The energy
I was given in death came in floods afterward and continues to this day. That
energy enabled me to travel the countryside (as part of various jobs I had to
earn enough money to keep going), and be "available." I use the term "available" because
that was all it took for me to find other near-death experiencers. It was as
if I wore an invisible sign that said "Tell me about the time you died.
What was it like?" Over the years I did advertise in various magazines and
newspapers for volunteers, and I made mention of this at various talks I gave.
But the bulk of the nearly 4,000 sessions I have held with adult and child experiencers
came about because of happenstance. I was there (not saying anything), and they
simply started talking. They did not know me and I did not know them.
How do you reckon this? How can any of you as researchers explain this? And how
do you explain the floods of energy that course through me, that enabled me to
work as long and as hard as I have? There is no questionnaire, no research protocol,
that can even address what I have been through or what it is like to see (and
hear in my heart) the words "Your work is now complete." On the 26th
of June, I concluded 26 years of research at the IANDS conference. My joy is
that I did it. I held forth and completed my mission. You would have to be a
fellow experiencer to understand the depths of meaning this has for me. I shook
for days afterward.
It is important to me that I "sign off" with a few statements, a brief
summary of what I have discovered as a researcher. For starters, I want to emphasize
that no one can validate a near-death experience except the experiencer. As researchers,
we are confined to recognizing and isolating details and patterns, with the hope
that commonalities will shed some light on the death experience, the possibility
of life after death, and the survival of consciousness. Yet it is the aftereffects,
both physiological and psychological, that impart real meaning to the experience
and give it greater impact.
The spread of aftereffects can be linked directly to the intensity of the episode
itself, not how long the scenario was or how complicated or how many elements
it contained. Research of the near-death experience, then, must include the aftereffects
to avoid the possibility of distortion in one's findings. This is why I do not
utilize the "classical near-death model" introduced by Raymond Moody
(1975) and established by Kenneth Ring (1980). My observations are based entirely
on first-person contact: simple questions, using words initiated by the experiencer,
body language study, sessions with significant others, findings cross-checked
with different social, ethnic, and racial population groups at varied times for
comparison.
The most common elements I found, regardless of experience type, were out-of-body
episodes, the presence of a great loving light, and a greeter of some kind. Less
than a third of the experiencers I met mentioned anything about tunnels. The
first national survey on near-death experiences, conducted by the Gallup Poll
(Gallup and Proctor, 1982), identified less than nine percent of the people reporting
anything like a tunnel. "Tunnels" did not become a frequent feature
of near-death states until after the Moody model became popular in the
late '80s and early '90s. The "tunnel" is now considered synonymous
with near-death experiences, even though research does not support that claim.
I prefer to use "near-death phenomenon" as an umbrella term to cover
both the experience and its aftereffects. One does not exist without the other
in equal measure. As concerns the physical body, I have noticed that the brain,
nervous system, digestive system, and skin exhibit the most changes. The intensity
of the experience appears to be the determining factor in the spread of aftereffects.
Although before and after brain scan testing has yet to be done with experiencers,
ample evidence from other brain scan projects establish that impactual, exotic,
or traumatic events can and do alter brain structure, function, and chemistry,
long-term. It is not a stretch for me to state that the near-death phenomenon
is such an event.
I hasten to add here that as good as the aftereffects often sound, they can be
quite confusing to deal with, even depressing. It is not unusual for experiencers
to go through long bouts of depression and doubt, questioning the state of their
sanity. It is as if too much happens to them too fast, and they are challenged
to find meaningful ways to cope. Bright ones met in death can continue to manifest;
out-of-body episodes can occur spontaneously and inappropriately. Added to this
is possible alienation from family and friends, conflicts with employment, plus
the inability to find counselors or therapists knowledgeable of the typical aftereffects
of near-death states. Too many experiencers are still misdiagnosed or drugged,
rather that supported in their quest to understand what happened to them. As
a result, experiencers often suppress or deny what they contend with.
As I conclude my fieldwork, I want to make these points. In order to proceed
with the research now needed in the field, we must untether ourselves from the
Moody model and open the field to embrace other types of investigative modalities
and protocols. We need to draw from a larger and more diverse group of professionals
who compare notes with each other, and are willing to conduct research not only
in hospitals but in other places as well. And we need to put more emphasis on
the aftereffects and on educating the medical and health-care field about what
is typical and common to the phenomenon. The spin-offs from this will affect
many aspects of society.
The three near-death experiences I underwent in three months in 1977 are balanced
impact-wise with the research I have since done. Countless experiencers have
told me that my work "saved their lives," whereupon in fact, they saved
me. Nothing can compare to the experience I have had of seeing myself reflected
back to me from thousands of eyes. What I saw enabled me to integrate my own
experiences in a healthy manner. I am humbled that I could return the favor.
The field of near-death studies takes us to the edge of death and beyond. The
rewards of this work are nothing short of magnificent.
References:
Atwater, P.M.H.(1996). Goddess Runes. New York, NY: Avon
Books.
Gallup, G., and Proctor, W. (1982). Adventures in immortality: A look beyond the
threshold of death. Chicago, IL: Nelson-Hall.
Moody, R. A. (1975). Life after life. Covington, GA: Mockingbird Books.
Ring, K. (1980). Life at death: A scientific investigation into the near-death experience.
New York, NY: Coward, McCann and Geoghegan.
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