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Dying to Really Live
He died, not believing in God, then was sent back to tell
his story, that death is nothing to fear.
Copyright © 2014, Duane F. Smith
All right reserved
Duane F. Smith
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Preview of Chapter
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FIVE MONTHS TO LIVE
“The world is a fine place and I would hate,
very much, to leave it.”
Ernest Hemingway
In my late 30s, my life took an unexpected turn. Just when it
seemed to be coming together as planned, something seemed
vaguely off key. It was nothing I could put a finger on, just a vague
feeling that I had missed a turn somewhere. Then, over the next
year or so, I slowly entered what St. John of Cross, a Carmelite of
the 16th Century, referred to as “The Night of the Soul.” Later, I
would realize this was the beginning of a new phase in my life.
At the time, my business and professional life had progressed
to the point where my wife and I could afford what we thought, at
the time at least were the things for which we had dreamed,
worked, and planned. These were all the things we assumed, and
society had taught us, would bring us happiness. Early in my life, I
had watched people who had money and nice things and decided I
wanted to be rich. I assumed that people with boats, cars, airplanes
and all of life’s toys had to be happy, right? So when I was young,
when people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I’d
always replied “a millionaire.”
Now, our wonderful little family consisted of two pre-teen
daughters, around whom our lives revolved, the family dog, and
independent cat. We were happily ensconced in a beautiful old
Cape Cod, our home in the idyllic Shakespeare mecca of Ashland,
Oregon. In our garage were the requisite “his and her” Mercedes.
Mine was a sedan and hers a sports model purchased for her last
birthday. Out at the airport were two airplanes just looking for
FIVE MONTHS TO LIVE
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ways to prove their worth to the family, one for local flying and
one for long distance. With a posh ski area just a few miles outside
of town and sailboat for the lake, we seemingly had it all. I had to
be happy, right?
It was icing on the cake that my “other family,” kids from the
experimental program where I taught school after getting out of the
Army, were mostly doing well also. The program had been for kids
who struggled with school and often had challenges at home. For
quite a few of the students, our classroom had become somewhat
of a surrogate family, and many had stayed in touch. Even the most
broken of the bunch, a little girl named Teresa, seemed to be on
her way to getting her life figured out. As I looked at my life, I
seemed to have it all, and what I didn’t have was within easy
reach.
Early in my life, I had discovered the power of goal setting
and in my late 30s I had achieved almost all of my life’s goals –
yes, even the millionaire part, several times over. We had been
building bigger houses and took longer and more extravagant
vacations. For several years now, I had felt we were just one step
away from happiness; just one more “something” and we’d finally
be there, we’d be satisfied and happy – ready to really enjoy life.
All the same, even the last six-week family vacation in
Europe, although perfect, still hadn’t scratched the itch I always
felt. Now, I began to suspect that the next bigger and better
“something” wasn’t going to do it either. And, of course, it never
did. In fact, what made it worse was the growing realization that I
really didn’t have any idea what real happiness was, or how or
where to find it. I had come to realize that happiness was more
than another new boat or bigger, faster airplane, or longer vacation
somewhere. Then, when my wife began talking about how our next
new house needed to be smaller to be perfect, I knew she was
sensing the same unspoken frustrations as I was.
About this time, to make matters even worse, something that
had started out as a minor health annoyance took a turn for the
worse. Fortunately, a doctor from The Stanford Medical Center in
DYING TO REALLY LIVE
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California took on my case. After a thorough examination, he
seemed optimistic. He said they were developing a new operation
and it was going to be the breakthrough they were seeking in the
treatment of my apparently untreatable condition. Furthermore, he
said they were about to do another test-case operation and thought
I might be an excellent candidate for the new procedure. While
characterized as major surgery, it could offer significant relief if all
went well. And if it didn’t work, my prognosis wasn’t good
anyway. To my wife and me, there was no question of our decision
because, without the surgery, where would I be?
More testing began and I was poked and prodded everywhere
and relieved of bodily fluids I didn’t know I had. In spite of what
the doctors had said, once all the tests were completed, it seemed
the prognosis wasn’t so bright after all. The doctors, as a group,
felt that my condition had already deteriorated too far to survive
the operation.
Furthermore, even if I were willing to risk the new procedure,
no doctor wanted to operate on a man who they felt might just die
on the operating table. Clearly, though they didn't admit it, they
didn’t want to jeopardize their whole program, and new
experimental procedure, by having one of their first with the
patient dying in the process.
Their advice to us was go home and get my affairs in order as
I had, at the most, only five months to live. I was only 41, and
someway it really didn’t sink in at first. We knew we had hit a
rough patch of sailing in our life, but we didn’t really realize what
was ahead.
So, I suppose that was why their verdict had less impact on me
than I would have expected. Maybe it was because of the bone-
numbing fatigue I was feeling, after months of little or no sleep.
Maybe it was because, in some vague way, the fatigue aligned with
other feelings I was having. While I wasn’t actually ready to give
up, even before I realized I was in trouble, I had been wondering if
what we had was all there was to life?
But, as time went on, I did begin to give up. I remember
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thinking that a thousand years from now, it wouldn’t matter
anyway; dead is dead. Then, I gradually became used these new
feelings. Partly, perhaps, because the detached feeling of being so
very tired made life seem devoid of meaning. It was as if part of
me was dead already, but I was still walking around. So the days
went on, and death became more inviting all the while.
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THE 4 HORSEMEN COMETH & I DIE
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, in the distance? Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, were they
deaf that they did not hear? Alfed Noyes
One early morning, as I sat struggling to breathe just before
dawn, I sensed the end was near. It no longer made any difference;
all I wanted was relief. Then, suddenly, somewhere between
snatches of sleep, one moment I was gasping for breath and in the
next I was falling through space. And I just kept falling, tumbling
through a black sky. Gripped with paralyzing, stark-naked terror,
instead of waking up, as I had in other “falling” dreams from the
past, I just kept on falling and falling, tumbling out of all control as
I fell.
As I tumbled, I became aware of a soft light in one part of the
black sky. Some part of my attention was drawn to the light and
whenever I could glimpse it, the attraction grew. As I struggled to
keep the light in my vision, I noticed that seeing it calmed me. The
more I focused on it, the calmer I became. Then I realized I was
falling towards the light. The closer I came to it, the brighter it
grew and the calmer I became. A warm feeling began in the pit of
my stomach and spread upward through my entire body as deep,
warm peace settled over me and the tumbling slowed.
On the distant horizon from where the light was coming, I saw
what looked like a line. As I drew closer, the line grew in size and
I realized it was a line of people walking toward me, silhouetted by
the light. I knew them all. Some I knew from my life on earth: my
grandfather with my favorite dog Butch, his tail, wagging in
greeting, and my othe r wise old granddad with his bemused, wry
grin. There was my sweet old Aunt Eleanor and favorite Uncle,
Sidney. There was a man who lived on a ranch up the river from us
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who had always been nice to me. Also, there was a school teacher
and various people who had played a part in my life, but had gone
on ahead.
Then, there were the others.
They were entities I had known and loved in other times and
other places, not in my current life. In addition, there were entities
who were also part of my soul group (souls we had reincarnated
with over and over), but not of this earthly world, however, who
were as much a part of my extended being like those of this Earth-
experience.
As we all met, I was flooded with the most intense feelings of
love I had ever known. As it flowed through the core of me, in a
very small way it was a little like the “going home feeling” I had
experienced on Earth as a young man returning home after being in
the Army in Europe for three years. I remembered as I drove up
that old familiar road to the ranch where Mom and Dad waited that
I had experienced a similar warm deep love. However, to compare
that feeling from then with this now was like comparing a drop of
seawater to the ocean itself.
Now, wave after wave of intense love rolled over me like the
waves of a great flood itself. It was a happy, joyous love full of
anticipation, closure, and promise. No words were exchanged, just
thoughts moving instantaneously, with perfect clarity, from one
mind to the other without the ability to withhold or judge anything.
It was all an expression and celebration of love that would on
earth, have been unfathomable. It was between members of an
ancient soul group, celebrating my return home once again.
As I was shown around, it was explained how most of our
celestial, eternal knowledge is blanked-out during our short life
spans on Earth. We must temporarily forget most of what our
higher self already knows so we can believe in the roles we have
chosen to play in our different lifetimes. Furthermore, they said
that it would take a while for our memories to all to come back.
They went on to say that life on Earth is a little like an extended
visit to a big theme park, with thrilling rides and various
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adventures. And brother, sometimes it does get scary, but we
humans wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, why else would
we leave the celestial realm, but for excitement, adventure, and
entertainment?
As one entity jokingly said, if the eternal, the God part, grows
tired of singing and playing harps, thousands of other universes
exist for our amusement and entertainment. The God part of us is
there providing choices for all eternity – and eternity is a long
time.
As my orientation went on, it was explained how on this
celestial side of the veil anything we want is instantaneously
provided. We just need to feel a desire to have something, and it is
fulfilled. But there lies the reason for all the realms outside of
Heaven. Having everything we want, all the time, develops within
us a need for variety and change, for a challenge. It would be like a
card game where everyone is always dealt a perfect hand. Soon
the game would become boring and we would look for another,
more challenging one.
Somehow, all this sounded familiar. And, to familiarize
myself with the process, one of them asked me to think about
something I really wanted. Thinking back on it, what I chose
seems odd for such an esteemed place, and such an occasion, but
suddenly I had an urge for a piece of my mother’s famous
homemade dark chocolate cake, with her special fudge frosting. As
soon as I thought of it, my mother was handing me the biggest
piece of dark chocolate cake I had ever seen. Dare I say it was
heavenly?
Although she appeared there with us, I knew some part of her
was still back on Earth because she was not one that had gone on
before. My guess is that she, at that same moment, was probably
asleep, dreaming of lovingly making her son a piece of her divine
chocolate cake.
After what could have been a few minutes or hours of
orientation, a deep silence began descending over everything, and
an all-encompassing “Presence” overshadowed the soul group and
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its members faded into the background. It was a little like being in
a supermarket where music is playing in the background as you
shop when the volume fades and a voice overshadows the music
saying, “Shoppers, on aisle #7, there is a great special on Red
Delicious apples.”
As everything else faded, a voice, which really wasn’t a voice
at all, said in resonating tones, “Welcome home, son, you have
done a great job and welcome back.” I was bathed in yet an even
deeper, more profound sense of love and acceptance which kept
just grew stronger until the voice went on to say, “But as long as
you still have a warm body back on earth, would you like to get
‘another one’ out of the way?”
I knew instantly what was being asked, even though at the
time of my death I hadn’t believed in any form of reincarnation, or
anything else religious or spiritual. In spite of that, I instantly knew
I was being asked if I wanted to get more life lessons out of the
way.
Now my Sunday school teacher had always told us that there
is no pain in Heaven. I can tell you now, at least in that case, she
was wrong. I can still hear the agony of my echoing “Nooooo,”
still rattling around somewhere in those Celestial Realms.
I knew in my heart of hearts, in the deepest core of my soul,
that after escaping “the surly bonds of Earth to touch the face of
God,” as one poet put it, I wanted to stay. After experiencing what
I was experiencing, in no way did I want to go back to that place,
any time soon. They could have any part of my “unused ticket,”
they wanted. I was finished with that petty, trite, hellhole of a
world-game, even though I had people there whom, in earthly-
terms, I had loved as dearly as earthly conditions allow, or at least
as well as I knew how to love at the time.
From that vantage point, I could see how trifling the world I
had left was. Here, on the other side, I would always be with souls
who have all loved me forever and will do so for eternity. Plus I
knew that momentarily, the loved ones who lagged behind on
Earth would join us. It might be years to them, but it would only be
DYING TO REALLY LIVE
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moments in reality. Time is funny that way.
Then “the Voice,” with a tone of infinite patience and wisdom,
went on to say, “One of the reasons you went to that planet to
begin with was to bring your daughter on board. She has some
very important work to do. Would you leave her fatherless, at her
young age?”
What can a father say? Even if I had seemed to detach already
from that life, apparently there were deeper cords than I was aware
of and I knew instantly I would be returning whether it was what I
wanted at this moment or not. Then, as I went out of the door,
metaphorically, “the Voice” continued, “Since you are going to be
there for a while, there are a couple of things you could do while
you are there.” However, it would be a while before I knew
anymore, and several years until I knew what the statement meant.
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The Books Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1 ................................................................. 5 FIVE MONTHS TO LIVE
CHAPTER 2 ............ ERROR! BOOKMARK NOT DEFINED. THE EARLY YEARS
CHAPTER 3 ............ ERROR! BOOKMARK NOT DEFINED. MY EARLY LIFE CHANGES
CHAPTER 4 ............ ERROR! BOOKMARK NOT DEFINED. GIVING UP, I’M READY TO DUE
CHAPTER 5 ............ ERROR! BOOKMARK NOT DEFINED. A LIFE CHANGING COINCIDENCE
CHAPTER 6 ............ ERROR! BOOKMARK NOT DEFINED. WAITING TO DIE
CHAPTER 7 ............ ERROR! BOOKMARK NOT DEFINED. DÉJÀ VU OR SOMETHING ELSE
CHAPTER 8 ............ ERROR! BOOKMARK NOT DEFINED. MY LIFE CHANGES AGAIN
CHAPTER 9 ............................................................... 9 THE 4 HORSEMEN COMETH AND I DIEH
CHAPTER 10 .......... ERROR! BOOKMARK NOT DEFINED. LTHEN I RETURN AND LEARN TRUE GRIEF
ABOUT VOLUME II ERROR! BOOKMARK NOT DEFINED.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR .............................................. 15
A SPECIAL ACKNOWLEDGMENT . ERROR! BOOKMARK NOT DEFINED.
About the Author
Duane F. Smith’s unusual background and life experience
provided a unique perspective about the time we chose to be on
this planet. Born dyslexic himself, he found his early schooling a
challenge. Barely finishing high school, he left to join the Army
and had his life changed forever.
In the Army’s infinite wisdom, this man who had, himself,
struggled in school was assigned to teach in an experimental
program designed by the University of Maryland, for the Army.
The University had developed a teaching technique that they called
Programmed Learning and were experimenting with 350 illiterate
draftees who, for whatever reason, had never attended school. The
University had designed the program to take these men from
grades 1 through grade 12, thereby allowing them to qualify for a
high school GED, which was the minimum standard required to
serve in the Armed Forces. However, the goal of the program
defied any conventional logic at the time. The program was to take
these men from the 1st
grade to passing a 12th
-grade equivalency
test . . . in 90 days!
Surprisingly, the program worked, with over 90% of the men
receiving their GED in the allotted time. It was this experience that
left the author angry and frustrated about his 12 boring; torturous
years wasted, accomplishing the same goal. The experience also
convinced him that there was a better teaching method than the
one-size-fits-all, method being used almost exclusively at all
levels.
After the Army, he moved to Ashland, Oregon, and there
began renovating old houses into college rentals. Meanwhile, in an
attempt to understand why his school had been so hard t for him,
he enrolled in a psychology class at what is now Southern Oregon
University. Eventually, he received a Master’s Degree in
Education, with a focus on early childhood development.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
16
Later, during a minor recession, when no money was available
for building apartments, he decided to teach for “a year or two."
While not sure teaching was his life’s work, he hoped to be there
long enough to see if some of his theories about alternate methods
of teaching, worked, and he quickly found a teaching position in a
local school.
However, within a few months, when he was about to be fired
by his principal for unorthodox teaching methods, he came to the
attention of Henry O. Pete, the extremely innovative school
superintendent of the district where he was teaching.. They soon
found they each shared a belief that there was a better way.
Together they developed an experimental program for putting their
theories into action. In it, a blended class of 4th through 6th
graders were allowed to work at their pace and in their areas of
interest. They became to refer to their method as Child-Centered,
or Child-Directed, Learning. As the program thrived, they began to
unravel a puzzle on which they both were to spend most of their
lives pondering and studying.
However, after a few years, a new community college was
forming in the town to the north of where they lived, and that
group hired Henry to be its Founding President, and develop its
curriculum based on his learning theories. Henry asked the author
to join him in his new endeavor, as the Director of Adult Education
at the new college. However, the author made the decision not
uproot his family to follow Henry, and he left education. At the age
of 30, he went back to his thriving apartment development
business. With the fledgling base his company had built while he
was in college, the business had thrived. In a few years, it seemed,
to the people in the community, that he had it all. Furthermore, to
add to his feeling of success, the kids from their original program,
with whom they stayed in contact were, doing well.
At this point, an ongoing, medical problem worsened, and the
author underwent the most profound of life changes. At the age of
41, a doctor from Stanford Medical Center gave him five months
to live and sent him home to “to get his affairs in order." He
eventually had what some refer to as a Near-Death or After Death
DYING TO REALLY LIVE
17
Experience. Regardless of what one calls it. he died, crossed to the
other side and then returned to his body. However, in his case, in
the following 18 months he was taken by his soul guides, back to
the other side on five separate occasions, and he didn’t even
believe in God, when he died. What he experienced and learned
was almost beyond words. And, it was here that he learned that as
many other people who were surviving NDEs, were being sent
back to tell their stories, to let people know that one’s death isn’t
the end of anything, it Is just the beginning of another adventure.
Suddenly everything in his life changed, and his priorities
shifted. Gradually, he was once again, drawn back to his
fascination with the mind/brain connection, and how it affected
how children learned. In time he realized that many new
discoveries in that field verified much of what he and Henry
discovered in the classroom, years before.
Feeling compelled, he began writing about what they had
discovered about the learning process, over the years. Renegade
Teacher, his 1st book, is about their original program, what
worked in the classroom, and what didn’t. Then, he
wrote Renegade Class, the story of what became of the kids from
the first book, over the next 40 years. When those were published,
his guides to him that it was time to write about his trips to the
afterlife.
First, he wrote Dying to Really Live, about his original Death,
being on the other side and then of his return. Then, he wrote
Beyond Death & Back, the story of his five trips to the other side
and what he saw, learned and did, and what it lead to when he
afterwards. When he had finished his 2nd
book, he began writing
Living in a New Tomorrow, about what he has been told to expect
in the coming decades. It is about education, why, if God lives
within, does he allow sickness in the body he shares. Then, it tells
of the Great Divide which is ahead for us all.