By BoJenn
Since my near-death experience in 2019, I’ve wrestled with how to explain what I encountered—how to describe a state of being that exists outside of time, yet is not chaos. It is not easily grasped. Its message unfolds slowly, like a dream that only begins to make sense in the remembering.
There is no time on the other side—not in the way we understand it. There are no clocks, no sequences, no deadlines. And yet, everything that matters is held in perfect order.
At first, I struggled to understand what came to me. Even now, I often receive these understandings not in words, but in flashes of knowing—intuitive impressions. Just this morning, as I was cleaning, something clicked: in the stillness of the void, all things exist in the Now. All memories, all lives, all experiences lie quietly, until one rises to the surface, asking to be seen.
When it does, it appears vividly—not as a moment in time, but as a presence. It asks us to study it, learn from it, or witness it with deeper clarity. Some moments come once, some a hundred times. The rest remain silent until called upon. This is not chaos—it is purpose without pressure. It is motion without time.
I’ve also come to feel, with certainty, that we move through many lifetimes. Many expressions of self. We live, we evolve, we examine. Then, when that journey is fulfilled, we spiral back—not in a linear return, but through a golden arc. We pass back through the point of our own beginning—not to relive, but to integrate. To merge.
And with us on that spiral path comes everything: the landscapes of our lives, the faces of those we’ve loved and known, the emotions, the questions, the patterns—all woven into one vast, elegant design.
This design is not random. It is sacred. It is the golden spiral—the Fibonacci sequence—the signature of the divine written into all of nature, and also into the soul.
In that spiral, past, present, and future are one. All moments are accessible. All lifetimes are alive. Time doesn’t vanish—it simply becomes unnecessary.
This, I believe, is the afterlife. Not a destination, but a return. Not a conclusion, but a pattern, always unfolding toward wholeness.
My Art
My Near Death Experience Arts and Thoughts 