Near Death Experience
By BoJenn
What will your life be like in three years?
Three years from now, I wake before dawn, the air outside quiet and blue. My home feels lighter now—less cluttered with noise, more alive with the hum of memory. On one table rests my finished memoir, bound and real, its pages still holding the faint scent of ink and effort. Sometimes I trace the title with my finger and remember every storm it took to bring it into being.
People write to me now—scholars, seekers, the curious ones who’ve stumbled upon my work. They ask about the things I’ve hinted at: the old bloodlines, the coded history, the strange intersections between faith, science, and what we dare to call “mystery.” I answer when I can, but I’ve learned not to explain everything. Some truths live best between the lines.
Outside my window, a garden has grown where once there was only red clay. Herbs, lavender, and one stubborn rosebush that keeps blooming past its season. I move more slowly these days, but with purpose. My body has learned its rhythms; my spirit, its peace.
In quiet hours, I can feel the veil between past and present thinning. I sense my ancestors nearby—not as ghosts, but as presence, watching through the shimmer of candlelight. I speak to them sometimes. I thank them for carrying the knowing through time, for whispering just enough for me to remember.
And as the first rays of sun touch the windowpane, I feel the pulse of what’s to come—new work, perhaps, or a gathering of minds across distance. But mostly, I feel content. I have become what I always was meant to be: a keeper of stories, a translator between worlds, a woman finally at home within her own knowing.
My Art
I painted this painting with my conscious leading me
Traveling Time and Space
Traveling the Speed of Thought
My Near Death Experience Arts and Thoughts 