All language subtitles for The Near Death Experience of Jeffery Olsen (2019) 720p GAIA x264

[MUSIC PLAYING]

I lived a very
normal American life.

I grew up on a small
farm up in the mountains.

We had cows and horses.

And it was a family of boys.

I had all brothers, so I grew
up in a very rough and tumble

lifestyle.

We worked hard.

We played hard.

And we had a lot of fun.

My brothers and I
were very close.

I was the middle one.

I had a younger brother
and an older brother,

but we were all within
about four years.

So we were very, very close.

We did a lot of sports, a lot
of football, things like that.

So we were very active.

Then my mother was
a devout Christian.

She and my father had
split up, but I grew up

with that conservative
Christian background.

For me, there was
always this stirring,

I suppose, about what is real?

You know, what is truth?

And I remember as a boy
going out into the fields.

And it was dark.

You would see the stars
at night, you know?

And I could look
up at the stars.

I went away to
college, actually,

to play American football.

I had a scholarship to do that.

But I also wanted
to be an artist,

so I was studying
art and playing

football on the other side.

And that's when
I was 19, 20, 21.

And while I was away
at college, that's--

probably the most
important thing

happened is I fell madly
head over heels in love.

I met a young
woman named Tamara.

And gosh, my heart just knew.

I mean, I didn't
even know her name.

She walked in the room, and
it was like lightning hit me.

It's like, there she is.

And we became beautiful friends.

I mean, we had a friendship, and
it turned into a relationship,

and it turned into a courtship.

And then we were
eventually married.

Tamara was a schoolteacher.

She taught high school,
the upper levels.

And I was a marketing person.

I graduated and got my
degree in marketing.

And we were pursuing
our careers.

And we had our first
child, a little son.

We called him Spencer.

Oh, he was a joy.

It was fun.

We enjoyed raising
our little boy.

And Tamara said, let's
have more children.

But there had been
complications.

But six years after the fact
came Griffin, a second child.

So suddenly, we had these
two boys, beautiful family.

But everything changed, really,
with the near-death experience.

And that was a result of a
horrific automobile accident.

And I'll never forget it.

It's been 20 years now
since the accident happened,

but I can recall the details
like it was yesterday.

We were on a family
vacation, actually.

It was the Easter weekend.

We'd been away.

We had been visiting
Tamara's parents.

We had had a beautiful
Easter weekend.

And Monday came, and it was
time for me to get back to work,

so we loaded
everyone in the car.

And we'd been down in Southern
Utah in the red rock country

and we were driving up to
north Utah where we live.

And there's certain moments of
that that I'll never forget.

It's almost like time stood
still, especially in hindsight.

I mean, we had put
everyone in the car.

And actually, we were just
getting ready to pull away.

I had just put the car in drive.

And Tamara reached
over and said, oh wait.

Wait just a minute.

I want to go say goodbye to
mom and dad one more time.

Which at the time, I thought,
gosh, we said goodbye.

You know, let's get on the road.

But I put the car in
park and I watched.

She went up to the porch.

She not only hugged
her mother and father,

but she also kissed them both.

And then she came back
to the car quite happy,

got in, buckled in her seatbelt.
We got on the interstate.

I put the car on cruise
control, went up to 75

miles per hour, which was as
fast as I could legally go.

I was hurrying to get back
to work in the office.

And it was a half day drive.

It was a four to five hour
drive that we were making.

And even during that process,
I was racing down the road.

And I was thinking about all
the things I had to do at work

and going on and on.

Tamara had actually laid
her seat back to have a nap.

And I just peeked in
the rearview mirror.

I noticed Griffin, my youngest
son, just barely learning

to walk and talk.

I saw this little boy, and
I thought what a miracle.

We were told we may not
have any more children,

and there he is, beautiful.

And then I just
glanced behind me

where Spencer, who was
seven years old at the time,

he was playing with
little action figures

and making all kinds of noise.

And I just--

I thought what a
joyful little boy.

And I then glanced at Tamara,
who was sleeping but holding

my hand.

And I thought,
wow, I'm so lucky.

That's what I felt.
I had this moment

of just absolute gratitude.

I'm so lucky for what I have.

But it was about
an hour after that

that it got really, really bad.

There was heavy winds.

There was reports
of a pickup truck

that was driving
erratically on the highway.

The hardest part about the
story and the experience

is I really--

I believe I dozed off.

I mean, we'd been
driving long, and I

think I maybe just nodded off
at the wheel for a minute.

But when I did that, the
car swerved to the right.

I overcorrected to the left,
and I lost control of the car.

And then it began to roll.

And it rolled not off the
road, but down the road

at 75 miles an hour
on the concrete.

It was a horrific
automobile accident.

The police reports
say the car probably

rolled six to eight times.

I blacked out for most of that.

I don't recall actually rolling.

But when the car came to a stop,
I was incredibly conscious.

I mean, I'm like, oh
my gosh, what happened?

And the first thing
I was aware of

was Spencer, my seven-year-old,
crying in the back seat.

Just crying hysterically.

And as a father, I
thought, OK, well, he's OK.

I've got to get to my son.

I've got to get to my boy.

But that's when I realized
that I could not move.

I was pinned.

And I couldn't tell
if I was pinned

to the seat or the floorboard.

I was disoriented.

I was struggling to breathe.

There was excruciating pain.

I had no idea of my injuries.

What had actually happened
is that both of my legs

had been crushed and shattered.

The left leg was actually
amputated above the knee.

My back had been injured.

My rib cage was injured, and
my lungs were collapsing.

My right arm had
almost been torn off.

It was severed really
badly and all the muscles

had been torn out of the socket.

And then the seat belt
cut through my midsection

and had ruptured my
intestines, my insides.

I had no idea.

All I knew is that
my son was crying.

I wanted to get to him.

And that's when the
brutal reality hit

that no one else was crying.

That's when I
thought, oh my gosh.

And I knew.

I knew Tamara is gone.

I saw, which I don't
talk a lot about--

Tamara, because she
had laid her seat

back was not restrained
properly by the seat belt.

And so she had suffered some
pretty severe head trauma

in the accident
which took her life.

Griffin, my little boy,
the car seat had broken up,

and he had been
ejected from the car.

And so I couldn't see him.

But it's like I
knew in my heart.

I just-- it was the darkest,
most awful feeling of,

they're gone.

They're gone.

And I knew that.

And I-- suddenly the
guilt. I mean, the regret.

I just kept thinking,
can't I just take back

that five seconds?

I mean, what happened?

How did I crash the car?

It was absolute panic.

And Spencer is
crying hysterically.

In fact, I was attempting
to speak to him.

I knew I was losing
consciousness.

But I said to Spencer, I
said, it's going to be OK.

And I thought, that's a lie.

It's not OK.

I mean, half the family's gone.

I'm losing consciousness.

Nothing will ever be the same.

But it was in that
darkest moment,

it was in that turmoil,
that horror of the accident

that I felt, well, the
best word is light.

It's like, light came.

It's like I felt light
come and circle around me.

Almost like it was a blanket.

Almost like it was comforting
me in this horrific moment.

And it felt as if I was
rising above the scene

of the accident.

The best word is maybe like
in this bubble of light.

And I rose above the accident.

Oh, now I can breathe.

I don't-- the pain's gone.

Am I OK?

That's what I was
asking, is am I OK?

Suddenly, I realized
that Tamara, who I knew

was gone at the scene, she was
there with me and very much

alive.

And gorgeous.

I mean, that's the
only reason I share

what happened to
her in the accident,

because all of a
sudden she was there.

And there was no injuries.

There was no head trauma.

She was radiant and
beautiful and glorious.

She was upset and frantic.

She's like, Jeff, Jeff,
you've got to go back.

You've got to go back.

You can't come.

You can't be here.

There I was looking at the
woman I loved more than life.

But I also knew I had
a little boy crying

in the backseat of that car.

And I had to make a
choice about coming back.

It was so real.

I mean, it wasn't
like a dream at all.

It's almost like my
senses were multiplied.

For instance, in this state, if
I can see and smell and taste

and hear and all those
things, in that state

it was super sensory.

It was so real that it
makes this life feel

like the foggy dream.

It's like this feels like the
weird, strange, dreamy state.

That was reality.

I looked at her, and I
thought, I've got to go back.

I can't leave our
little boy orphaned.

I literally got to say goodbye.

And I made the
choice to come back.

Now, I didn't have to
figure out how do I go back?

It was in the intention.

It was in the intention of
thinking, I'm going back.

As I did so, I found myself
wandering around a hospital.

Now, I have no concept of
time in this bubble of light.

I mean, I don't know how many
minutes or hours went by.

I later found out
that people arrived

at the scene of the accident.

One happened to
be a doctor, which

was able to do some emergency
procedures, care for Spencer.

They rushed us to
a local hospital.

And Spencer was not badly
hurt, my seven-year-old.

He was banged up a little bit,
but he basically physically

walked away from the accident.

But emotionally, he thought
the whole family was gone.

With the extent of
my injuries, there's

no way that hospital
could see to my care.

They had to life flight
me to a level one trauma

center, which they did.

They flew me to the
nearest metropolitan city

where I could get
the care I needed.

And I had no idea
about any of that.

All I knew was I
had wrecked the car.

I had said the most profound
goodbye I would ever say.

And there I was wandering
around through a hospital,

looking at the nurses,
and the doctors,

and the patients, and the
families of the patients.

But the incredible thing is
everybody I saw, I knew them.

Like, they were strangers,
but I would look at them

and I knew everything
about them.

I knew their love, their hate,
their joy, their decisions,

their pain, their motivations.

I knew them as if they were me.

It was intense things.

I felt-- there was a
nurse, and I just, I

knew that she had been abused as
a child, physically, sexually,

emotionally.

And I thought--
well, I could feel it

as if it had happened to me.

But in feeling it, I had this
profound compassion for her.

It's like, oh wow, look
what she has overcome.

Look what she endured.

And then I had this
intense feeling of look

who she is now because of that.

This compassionate
medical staff, literally

healing people.

I had this intense
connection to everyone.

And there was this sense
of love for everyone.

And it didn't matter who they
were or what they had done

or what they hadn't done.

And I saw them as
this incredible soul.

All those judgments from
religion just went away.

It was like, aren't
they incredible?

Aren't they beautiful?

And I did have a verse,
like from the Bible,

come up as I'm wandering
around the hospital.

There's a famous verse
attributed to Jesus

that says "inasmuch
as you've done it

under the least of these,
you've done it unto me",

which I used to think was a
really nice passage about being

nice to people.

Which I suppose it is.

But I was feeling it at
such an intense level.

I realized, wow.

So what Jesus was saying is
I am them and they are me.

And that's what I
was experiencing.

I was them and they were me.

And there was this oneness, this
connection that was undeniable.

And I was the heroin addict.

I was the nurse.

I was all of it.

I was everything, and
everything was me.

But it was all encircled
in this intense love

and this intense compassion,
unconditional love.

And I was just marveling
at this experience

until I came up to a man, or
a body laying on the gurney

that I didn't feel anything
from, which I thought

was weird.

And so I stepped
closer and took a look,

and that's when I realized,
oh my goodness, that's me.

But it wasn't me.

I was having this incredible
connected experience,

but there was my body.

There was that skin suit that
I had been wearing around life.

And it was incredibly sad,
because my body was a wreck.

I've taken for granted that
I'm healthy and can run

and be athletic and feel good.

And yet there was
my body so broken.

A couple of things were
huge for me in that.

And that is that
I'm not my body.

I was something far greater.

And then also, I had peace,
even in the trauma of everything

that had happened, by being
out of this situation.

And I also realized too
that passing, I mean dying,

was very natural.

It was very beautiful.

Many might say that I suffered
a very violent, traumatic death

in the car accident
and all the injuries

and everything
that had happened.

But I wasn't even
aware of the injuries.

But I also knew I've
got to get back in.

I've got to get back in
that body and carry on.

I've got to live for my son.

And once again, there
was no figuring it out.

It was intention.

I'm going back in.

And then, boom, I
was back in the body.

But when I went back into
the body, the heaviness

and the regret, the guilt, the
pain, the trauma, all of that.

So I was in the hospital
for almost six months.

I mean, it was awful
to be back in the body.

I was ventilated.

They had a big tube down my
throat doing the breathing

since my lungs had collapsed.

My legs were obviously immobile.

My right arm was immobile.

And then they had
tied down my left arm

because I kept grabbing at
all the medical equipment.

It was really intense.

In fact, it was
almost like I had

one foot in this realm and
one foot in that realm.

Because I would find myself
leaving the body every now

and then.

I would feel like,
gosh, I need a break.

And there was
times I felt like I

was over in the corner
watching it all,

just taking a break from
it all, knowing I've got

to get back in the body again.

And I would go in
and out of the body.

I also had-- it was like
continued communication

with Tamara, my wife.

I recall having a very intense
conversation with her when

I was out of the body again.

And she was letting me
know what she wanted

done at the funeral services.

And she wanted
her sister in-laws

to have her fancy dresses.

And she wanted her
cousin and her niece

to have those special
rings and the jewelry.

I mean, it was almost
trivial things.

But she was communicating to me.

Probably the most profound
thing that happened

was at the end of
my hospital stay.

I was out of ICU, and I
was in ICU for months,

and then I would go
to surgical recovery.

I had horrible infections.

I had pneumonia in my lungs.

I kept throwing
pulmonary embolisms.

They're blood clots that
lodge in your lungs.

So I was very sick
for a very long time.

But by this case, I was out of
ICU, out of surgical recovery.

I was actually in the
rehabilitation unit

at the hospital.

In fact, it was only weeks
before I was to come home.

I finally was able to
roll and sleep on my side.

And I remember falling asleep.

And I mean, the guilt, the
grief, the pain, the trauma,

everything that I'd
been dealing with.

And while I was sleeping, I
felt that light come again,

just like at the
scene of the accident.

Suddenly I felt this
blanket of light.

And although I was
joyful to be sleeping,

the grief and the guilt. I
mean, I'd lost half my family.

I had lost half my body.

I was worried about
my son, and how was he

going to deal with this?

How was I going to deal with it?

So there was a constant worry.

But I was peaceful in my sleep.

And this light came
and embraced me

and was comforting me
just like at the accident

in those situations.

And again, I felt a lift.

And then the light
seemed to dispense,

like a fog or a
mist that goes away.

The light was gone.

And I was in the most
incredibly beautiful place.

And it was so real.

Once again, it was so sensory.

I mean, that might seem
odd that it felt physical,

but I was running.

I could feel the
ground beneath my feet.

I could feel the warmth and
the energy from the ground

beneath my feet.

And I began to run.

And it felt as if I was running.

I mean, I could feel,
you know, the muscles

in my calves and thighs.

And I was joyfully,
joyfully running.

It's odd.

What was coming to my mind
is, wow, it's good to be home.

I was home.

I mean, people say
heaven, or the other side.

To me, I was home.

It was so familiar.

It was so welcoming.

I was so joyful to be there.

And when I say it felt
like a physical experience,

everything was super sensory.

I could taste the colors.

I could smell what I was seeing.

And I was elated to be there.

I got this message.

It was like a knowledge,
like a knowing

that you're not here to stay.

And I thought, oh, I just
want to stay, you know?

And

About the time I got
that message there was

this corridor off to my left.

And I knew intuitively
I'm to go down there.

And I made my way
down the corridor.

And as I did, I
could see something

at the end of the corridor.

And so I made my way to
the end of the corridor.

And when I got
there, it was a crib,

much like the one Griffin had
been sleeping in, because he

was still just a baby.

I raced to the crib, and
I looked in the crib.

And there was Griffin.

There was my little boy.

And he was sleeping as
peacefully and as beautifully

as when I had peeked in the rear
view mirror on the ride home.

And I swept him up in my arms.

Now, I had worried and
had pain over that,

because I knew he had
been thrown from the car.

And I didn't know
what had happened,

but I knew he had been killed.

But there he was, perfect.

And when I swept
him up-- and again,

it was so physical
what I could feel.

I could feel the
heat from his body.

And I thought, he's OK.

And I could feel him breathing.

I could feel his
rib cage expanding.

I could feel his
breath on my neck.

And I thought, he's OK.

He's just fine.

And then I smelled his hair.

You know, I smelled his hair
and thought, it's my little boy.

He's perfect.

He's OK.

And I could feel him
solid against me.

And I was even marveling then.

If I'm out of the body, how
does it feel so physical?

But it did.

I could feel, and smell, and
taste, and touch everything.

And I began to weep just
thinking, oh, he's OK.

And I was holding him.

And I had longed for
that over those months.

And as I was holding him, I felt
an intense feeling behind me.

It was a presence.

It felt so cosmic, so
big, so wise, so powerful.

And I began to become fearful.

In fact, my thoughts
were, that's God.

I am in the presence of God.

And then I begin to have
those guilt feelings again.

I was holding my
little boy thinking,

he died because I
crashed the car.

He's here because I messed
up and lost control.

And I began to think,
well, my thought was,

I hope I'm forgiven.

I hope some way I
can be forgiven for--

I mean, did I take the
life of my little boy?

I mean, that was the
guilt. It was very deep.

And as I was weeping and
holding him, and feeling

this presence come behind,
and as I had that thought,

suddenly this presence
came so close.

And this felt physical too.

I felt these loving arms
wrap around and hold us.

And the message just came
as powerful as could be.

There's nothing to forgive.

Everything is in
pure divine order.

Everything is OK.

And it was almost
like there was just

this download of truth and
knowledge and love and peace.

And all those misconceptions
I had about God,

that I was being tested,
that I was probably failing,

that I was going
to be judged, those

were swept away in pure,
unconditional love.

There are not even
words for the love

that I felt as I was
wrapped in those arms.

And it was almost like me and my
little boy became part of that.

Like we became God.

And suddenly, I was seeing
everything differently.

In fact, I saw my life.

You know, I saw my
parents get divorced,

and the insecurities
that created in me.

And I saw the relationship
with my brothers

and the things
that had happened.

And I saw things that I thought,
well, that was a mistake.

That was a mistake.

But in those loving arms,
it was just flowing.

There are no mistakes.

Everything's in perfect order.

And I saw things that, like,
I knew they were wrong,

but I did them anyway.

And I was thinking,
oh, don't-- you know.

And there was so much love.

All that was flowing through me
is look how much we love you.

Look how much we
honor your choices.

Look how much we
honor your life.

And I was being told or I was--

I say told.

It wasn't with words.

It was just pure energy
that everything was perfect.

Even that my life was perfect.

That everything
happened for a reason,

that I was learning
in every instance.

And that actually,
that I was perfect.

And that was-- that
would blow my mind.

I thought, well, how
could I be perfect?

But there was also
this oneness in that.

If I was perfect, then
everyone else was perfect too.

And everything was
in divine order.

And I also felt as
if I was divine.

Like I say, it's almost
like we became God.

It felt like I'm a divine soul.

I'm a divine being of light
having this crazy life

experience that my
soul might expand.

And yet, none of it is real.

This is real.

That's just the stage of a play
or something I'm going through.

It's an experience I'm having.

And also, I learned
about choice again.

I was told that I could be
angry at God my whole life,

and think that he
took my family away,

or that somehow
life was not fair.

And that was OK.

There was no
judgment whatsoever.

I could do that.

But the beautiful thing is
I was given another choice.

And it was that I
could exercise my will.

I could give Griffin--

I could give my son back to
God, back to the universe.

And then my will
would be part of it.

That I could make
a choice in that,

and I could literally let go.

In all that love, and
in all that peace,

and in all that beauty, I was
able to kiss my little boy

and give him back.

And then I woke up back
in the hospital bed,

back to the amputation,
the injuries, you know,

all that had happened.

But I had a little bit
different perspective realizing

everything's a choice.

And realizing that everything
is in divine order.

And that if I'm perfect,
then everyone's perfect.

There's no need to judge
anyone for anything.

And that life's
actually perfect,

if I could literally reach
out and embrace it that way.

So I think it's interesting that
these two things happened when

I was not on heavy narcotics.

And they're so real.

I mean, it's been 20 years.

But I can remember them
like they were yesterday.

I can't remember what
happened in the hospital.

I don't remember when
I moved from ICU to--

all of that is foggy.

But the spiritual
things that happened,

the out of body
things that happened

were like they were yesterday.

I'll never forget them.

And it changed me.

Now, I don't want
any misconceptions.

It was difficult. I mean, it
wasn't like I wrecked the car,

I had these incredible
experiences, and then I was OK.

I was a wreck for
almost 10 years.

I mean, I was grieving.

I was hurt.

I missed my family.

I missed my leg.

I missed all of it.

Spencer, my little
seven-year-old.

How difficult for him.

He lost everything I did.

He didn't lose his leg.

But he lost his mother.

He lost his brother.

He, in many ways,
lost his father.

Coming home to him was very
difficult. Because I thought,

how am I going to do this?

I mean, well, first of
all, I was in a wheelchair.

And this leg was chopped off.

My right leg was
still in a big brace

holding it out straight
so it would heal.

My right arm was
in a sling, and I

had a little electric
wheelchair that I could

drive with my one good hand.

And that's how I returned home.

Now I was going
out into the world.

We were going to have to go
to the market, and to school,

and, you know, I was
really worried about him.

The day I came home
was interesting.

And I share this for
a specific reason.

My brothers, who
were incredible,

I mean, I can't imagine what I
would have done without family

and friends in this situation.

But my brothers were--

they almost lost their jobs
to be at the hospital with me

to see me through.

They came to get me when
it was time to go home.

They'd have to lift me
into the wheelchair,

and put me and lift
me into the car.

And they drove me home.

And there was a ramp that
had been installed so I

could get in the front door.

And I saw Spencer,
my seven-year-old,

watching out the window as
my brothers, his uncles,

were lifting me out of
the car and putting me

in the wheelchair.

And I thought, how is he
going to deal with this?

And then he did run.

And he finally threw himself on
my lap, which just about killed

me, because I still had all
the sutures down from when

they put my insides together.

And he threw his arms around me.

And I had a huge epiphany.

I realized that
sitting in a wheelchair

and holding my surviving
son in this realm

was no less divine than
being in the other realm

and holding my son
who had passed there.

I mean, suddenly heaven, if
you will, was right here.

I mean, there was nowhere to go.

There was nothing to be.

There was these divine moments.

And it's never gone away.

I mean, for 20 years
now-- and yeah, I

had to get back to work.

I had to make a life.

And we did.

But there's those
little moments in life

that are just-- they're divine.

It's like something opens
up and your heart gets it.

I had miracles happen.

I mean, I say I
had angels show up.

And sometimes those angels
were my brothers or my mom.

Sometimes it was neighbors.

But I felt as if
there was always

angels from the other side.

It's almost like Griffin and
Tamara never really were gone.

I eventually fell in love
again, which was crazy.

I mean, it was--

I had guilt about that.

I think I have a guilt complex.

I mean, I had this incredible
woman come into my life, Tonya.

She's my wife now.

And I wasn't dating.

I was still bereaved.

I was still heartbroken.

But I began to have
feelings for her.

And I felt awful.

I would go to the graveyard and
I would lay on my wife's grave.

And I was sobbing, saying--

well, I was angry at one point.

I'm like, how could
you leave me like this?

You know, I don't
even walk right.

And I'm trying to raise our son.

And you're in that
beautiful place.

And how dare you?

How dare you leave me?

I mean, I was angry.

And it was interesting, because
as I was pouring out my heart

and letting her have it
with my words, I felt her.

Now, I don't see,
but I felt her.

I felt as if she came and
put her hands on my shoulders

behind me.

And then she
communicated so clearly.

She was like, don't
berate me for leaving.

And she said to me, she said,
I loved you enough to leave.

And I thought, wow.

But that can't be right.

That can't-- you know,
that doesn't make sense.

And she communicated.

She said you would not be
learning what you're learning.

Life would be so different.

I would have loved nothing
more than to grow old with you

and be with you.

But that was not the plan.

And she laid out-- like,
this was a big plan.

We made this deal that
you were going to come.

You were going to
have this experience.

And that I was going to love you
enough to go so that you would

have those feelings and have
your soul expand in such a way.

And none of this
really made sense.

And so I don't fight
fair, and I said, yeah,

but I'm having feelings
for another woman.

And she laughed at me.

She said, of course you are.

Of course you are.

I want you to be happy.

I want you to have love.

I want you to be with someone.

I am not jealous.

I'm not upset.

I'm not hurt.

In fact, she communicated,
I sent her your way.

You can do whatever you want.

You have the choice.

But she will teach you
unconditional love.

And it was so real.

Once again, that
was so real to me.

I could hear the
voice in my head.

But I could feel it in my heart.

I mean, the communication
was so clear.

And I could feel her there.

Even though I didn't
feel her physically,

I could feel her
right there with me.

And that was life
changing as well.

And I eventually
remarried, you know.

I mean, Tonya and I
continued our relationship.

And Spencer embraced
her as a mother.

Tonya is the hero of the story.

I mean, she came in and
continued to heal a broken man,

because I was broken.

And she took Spencer
on as her son

and kind of put all the
pieces back together for us.

And then we adopted two boys.

Tonya was not able
to have children.

And she said, I think
we should adopt.

And I don't even
say adopted boys.

I just called them my sons.

We adopted two boys
that are brothers.

And they came as a
package deal to our home.

But I just say my sons
made it to our house.

It looked a little different.

We rebuilt this family,
but it was still hard.

You know, it wasn't--

I mean, it took me 10 years
to really get over the grief,

to really embrace love.

And I think the
key for me, too, is

even though I had had
those profound experiences,

I was still looking for joy
and peace out there somewhere.

Who can bring this to me?

Tonya, if she could just love
me enough to make me feel OK.

Or if the boys could just love
me enough to make me feel OK.

Or in my job or whatever
else I was grasping at

to feel like I was wanted
and I was loved and I was OK.

Even though I had been in the
arms of God and felt perfect.

But I was still looking
for an outside source.

In fact, I was wandering
around thinking, where's

all that love I felt here?

Where will I ever find it?

And the key was when I
finally looked within myself

instead of looking out there.

When I finally realized,
oh, to love unconditionally,

I get to love myself
unconditionally.

And when that happened,
the healing began.

Because I was never going
to find it out there.

That had to be felt within.

And even in my
Christian upbringing,

this Jesus fellow said "the
kingdom of God is within you".

Don't look out there for it.

And I began to maybe grasp
what that meant a little

more, that it is within us.

We are divine beings.

We do have the power to create
our own situations if we

embrace ourselves
that way and do so.

For many years, I didn't talk
about my experience at all.

I didn't want people
to think I was crazy.

And also, I felt
it was just for me.

It's like, this is sacred stuff.

You know, it's not lunchtime
conversation to say,

hey, by the way, I went to
the other side and saw God.

And so I just held
it to my own self.

I didn't share about it.

I didn't talk about it.

Very few people even knew
that I had had an experience.

But I was talking to
a group of people.

And it was-- actually, it
was a Sunday school class.

I was teaching a class.

And the subject was
the love of God.

And I begin to get
emotional, saying, oh, I

have felt the love of God.

I couldn't hold
back the emotions,

because I was thinking
of being in those arms.

And there was a woman in
the back that came up.

And I knew her.

She was a neighbor of ours.

And she said, there's a
lot more to your experience

you don't talk about, right?

And I said, yeah, but
I don't talk about it.

And she said, I think you should
meet with a person I know.

And it was a man
at the university

who studied near death or
out of body experiences.

And I said, oh, no, I don't--

and she said, please do this.

So I sat down with him and
shared what had happened.

And of course I'm just weeping.

I hadn't talked of it much.

And he was crying too.

And when I finished,
there was someone

in the back that was with a
publishing company and came up

and said, you've
got to write a book.

And I said, no.

I don't even talk about
this, let alone write a book.

And, well, there was so many
things falling into place.

And there was this
little whisper.

I call it a whisper.

That was saying, maybe
that's why you're still here.

And so it's really not
about me, you know?

It's about healing.

And if I can do
something that makes

a difference in the world with
the catastrophe that happened,

then that makes it worth it.

Then that makes it in
some ways OK, or at least

a little bit better.

I mean, there's so much
division in the world.

Everything teaches us
that we're separate.

You're of that political party.

I'm of this one.

You're woman and I'm a man.

Or you're gay and I'm straight.

Or you're Black and I'm white.

Or, I mean, there's all this
segregation, all this division.

The one thing that was so
profound in my experience

was the oneness, realizing
that we are connected.

That I am and you are
me, and that we're really

here together.

We're all in this together.

There's no stepchildren
in this family of God.

And also the love.

The love I felt. I
have embraced that love

is the most powerful
force in the universe.

Love can heal everything.

And it can heal anything if
we can simply come together.

And in many ways, too,
I embrace that as well.

You know, I used
to live in a fear

that the world was
going to end, or God

was going to come and fix it.

Now, I'm a firm believer
that it's up to us.

That we're divine,
powerful beings.

And that if we can embrace that
love that is within each of us

by loving ourselves
and then loving others,

that that's the ripple effect.

That's what creates
heaven right here.

You know, there's nowhere
to go or anything to be.

It's to really embrace
and love each other here.

And suddenly, that
beautiful place

becomes the ground
under our own feet.

The oneness, the
connection that we have.

And it doesn't
matter who said it.

There's been many
masters, you know.

Buddha, Jesus, Muhammad,
I don't care which one.

I mean, Gandhi, Mother Teresa.

It doesn't matter.

The homeless guy on the street.

I mean, we are all masters.

You will never
encounter someone that's

not a magnificent,
glorious, divine being.

I mean, there's this
whole great big universe.

Uni-verse.

I love that, because uni means
one, and verse means song.

There's this one big song.

And each and every
one of us have a part

to play in that, a part to sing.

And I sing at a tone that's
far different than yours.

And every tone comes together
in the perfect melody,

the perfect harmony.

And it's already happening.

We don't see it, because we
see ourselves as separate.

But if we realized, and
stepped into the oneness

that we already are,
and sang our songs so

brightly and shined as we
do, it's like the stars.

Everyone has a
different twinkle.

But when you look at that Milky
Way and that galaxy, you say,

wow look how beautiful
it is collectively.

Look how beautiful the
stars are individually.

And that's how we are.

We're already that.

There's nothing to become.

I mean, yeah, if it's so
good there, why be here?

I deal with a lot of people
who struggle with suicide

or who have lost
children to suicide.

And I have no judgment of that.

There were many times
during my struggles

that I thought I'd
rather just go.

Of course, I had a son here that
was keeping me pretty grounded.

But I think this
is the big game.

It's like, we can't
experience what

we want to experience
when everything's

light and beauty and peace.

It's almost like we wanted
to have the opposite.

We wanted to experience what
we're not so we could finally

embrace what we truly are.

I used to-- I mean, I'll go
back to my old football days,

where they would draw
it on the chalkboard.

And all the X's and O's and
everything looked perfect.

And yet, you never knew
until you got on the field,

and smelled the grass, and
had someone hit into you

what it was like.

And I believe life is like that.

We wanted to come and
have the experience

because our soul would expand.

And while we're here, we
just think, oh my gosh,

I can't do this.

This is too hard.

But our higher self, our
higher knowledge thinks,

yeah, but that's why you came.

I mean, it's easy for me
to sit in a beautiful house

and say life is good.

And there's people that
suffer, struggling.

I mean, I'm working
with some folks that

work with human trafficking.

I mean, kids being taken
and put into the sex trade

or whatever else.

There are things in the world
that are heart wrenching.

And so how do we
look at those and say

it's all in divine order?

How does this make sense?

I embrace it as a perfect
opportunity to be love.

How can I shine
light in dark places?

How can I embrace things
and make a difference?

And I realize I'm just one.

I'm just one guy.

But gosh, can I make life
better for somebody today?

Can I do something for someone?

And by doing it for the one,
you're doing it for the all.

Even when I raise my own
vibration, if I can go

meditate for a minute and get
it peace, or forgive, something,

even if it's forgiving myself.

I forgive others very easily.

The hard one to forgive
for me is myself.

That ripples out.

It ripples out and
affects the consciousness

of all of humanity.

But it comes down to choice.

We live in fear.

We're so conditioned with
judgment, or religion,

or even our parents or whoever
said, well, you're a bad boy.

You don't deserve that.

That's not coming.

Well, you've got to earn that.

I mean, all these
things that we have

conditioned in our mind, when
in reality, we are deserving.

We are worthy always.

We're of great worth.

And the Earth is so beautiful.

I mean, now, after having
the experiences I had,

I used to wonder about miracles.

You know, gosh, how do
you create a miracle?

And yet now, like, I can
go out and watch a sunrise,

and it's an absolute miracle.

Like, heaven's right here.

I see the flowers grow.

That's a miracle.

I mean, smell the fresh air.

Feel the rain on your skin.

And think, wow, it's so
incredible to be in this realm

and to be alive.

And there is no death.

I'm having this experience.

And there is no judgment.

I'm going to move from this.

And I'll tell you, when
we pass from this life,

we're going to be
embraced by loving arms

and simply asked,
what did you learn?

Tell me about what you
learned in your experience.

What was it like
to be like that?

What was it like to be you?

What was it like to have
this or not have that?

And it's all going to be a
collective oneness of, wow,

look what we learned.

Look what we created.

Look at the uniqueness.

And we'll realize
we always were one.

We always were connected.

It was just our inability
to embrace it and realize it

that held us back.

It's difficult, because
so much of our society

just struggles day to day.

It's hand to mouth.

How do I survive?

You know, how do I make
enough money to pay the rent

and to put groceries
on the table?

There's no time or energy
for how do I assist others?

How do I make a
difference in the world?

I found a key for me.

And it's if I can take
only 10 minutes a day--

I mean, I'd rather take an
hour, but even 10 minutes

to be still, to be still
and just reconnect.

Like, always be connected.

Just remember.

Remember that connection.

Remember who I am.

Remember that everything's
in divine order.

And let go of the fear.

Let go of the contention.

Let go of that doubt
that there's not enough.

You know, we live in such
fear that there's not enough.

There's not enough money.

There's not enough food.

There's not enough time.

There's not enough love.

And yet, if we can let
go of that and realize

there is enough
and I think the key

for me was realizing
that I'm enough.

I'm enough.

I mean, I limp around on one
leg, and I do the best I can.

But I am enough by
simply being me.

By simply showing
up in light and love

and loving the people around me.

And taking care of
those around me.

And when I say taking care of,
just energetically, you know?

I will probably never
make enough money,

you know, probably never have.

But then again, what's money?

It's just energy.

I've had lots of money,
and I've had nothing.

And it didn't make me any
happier one way or the other.

You know, I mean, there's always
that, well, I want more money.

Or I need to make more of this.

Or if I only had more
money, I could get that.

They're just things.

You know, they're just things.

I remember sleeping in
the backseat of my car

at one point when I was young.

And I had nothing.

But I didn't need anything.

I mean, it was--

I was fine.

Money is not who I am.

And none of it is who I am.

If I really get in touch
with, I'm not the car.

I'm not the house.

I'm not the job.

I'm not my partner.

I'm not the shoes or the
clothes or anything else.

I am all of it.

I am that I am.

I am the divine.

I am me.

And me is enough
just the way I am.

And I can be my contribution
in this universe without even

trying, by just simply being.

Just being me.

I've had to let go of
control and expectations

and comparisons.

I have some dear friends that
are Native, Indigenous people.

And there's a beautiful
story that I was told once,

because I asked about that.

How do I control?

How do I fix?

How do I make?

And this wise elder
said, no, no, no.

And then he told a story.

He said when you
get in the river,

when you fight the current,
the harder you try to swim,

you sink.

He said, when you
relax, when you let go,

when you go with the
flow, the current

will take you exactly
where you're meant to be.

And it's interesting.

I've been in the water.

Swimming is one of the only
things I can do anymore where

I move my body, but it's true.

The harder you fight the
water, the faster you sink.

And if you just let go and
relax and float, it's peaceful.

It's easy.

And there is order
in the universe.

We'll be exactly where
we're meant to be.

And we're divine beings.

And we're here to make
the world a better place

and literally create peace
and joy for everyone.

I have no doubt we could do it.

We're powerful, powerful people.

Any community is very powerful
when they step up and decide

and choose a difference.

I mean, never
underestimate the power

of a small group of people
who are focused on change.

There's thousands of
examples and thousands

of barriers that have
been overcome where people

find peace, they come together.

And I think humanity's
awakening and actually doing it

worldwide.

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