Well I certainly think there is a spiritual aspect to life, but I didn’t fully feel it until I was in a coma for 2 months following my stroke.
Okay I needed to make some coffee for this. Story time.
While I was in a coma I lived what felt like years. It was so real, I can remember the smells, tastes, and sounds. When I woke up in the hospital it took me several days to be able to put together what was real and what was my coma dream. Anyways, I’m going to start from the beginning as I saw things occur while in a coma.
Initially, I was in a hospital room. There is an angry man in the area just outside of my room, pacing back and forth, and gesturing towards me. I am in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown. The man outside eventually comes into my room, helps me out of the bed, and leads me away. We shall call him Freddie. We later arrive at his home, where several of his friends, and his very beautiful mother are. His home is beautiful, right on the ocean with big steps like a Mayan temple leading up to the entrance. As we enter, he pushes directly past his mother without acknowledging her and goes to his friends. They seem vaguely familiar, but all seem very pleased to see me. We hang out, use drugs, listen to music, dance, and drink. Everyone was so kind to me. I never remember anyone telling me no for anything I asked for. I asked one guy, an Asian guy who seemed to be Freddie’s best friend, why everyone is being so nice to me. He replies without missing a beat, “That’s what I’m supposed to do.” He hands me a brand new skateboard. He says he builds them. Freddie reappears, followed by his mother, who is in tears. We’ll call his mother Brenda. Brenda is yelling at Freddie, “Why do you act like this? Why are you so selfish?” Freddie ignores her. Brenda goes down the stairs to the beach, and I follow her. She looks angrily at me, and scoffs “He doesn’t know what I did for him!”
I subsequently am walking through a thick jungle. It is hot, sticky, and smells like rotting leaves. The sensations were so vivid. Ahead of me on the narrow pathway was Brenda, but she was younger, maybe 19. She has a baby tied onto her back with a green quilt. She is barefoot, and looks very tired. The baby is quiet and content. We walk. And walk. And walk. It felt like three days. I remember the thirst, my ankles hurting, the rumble of my stomach. I imagine this was my mind processing my pain in real life in the hospital bed. But the pain of this walk through this forest with Brenda was as real to me as anything I’ve ever experienced. I longed for it to be over. I started to hate Brenda for bringing me to this awful place. Why was I here? Where were we going? After what felt about three days of walking, we finally emerge from the jungle where Brenda falls to her knees, emaciated and in tears. She takes her baby, Freddie, ofc her back and places him in the sand.
We later see Freddie, older now, a very good athlete but in trouble and rebellious. He gets a scholarship to play basketball, and eventually goes to the NBA. He has a short, illustrious career, but gets in some kind of trouble (can’t remember why) and by the time I encounter him, he is out of the league. Just liked to party and hang out with his friends.
I encounter Freddie again at his home. I ask him why he shuns his mother. He looks over his shoulder and he says in a low voice, “She thinks I am one thing and I am really something else.” I ask him to explain, and he says, “I only played basketball because it allowed me to do whatever I wanted. That’s all. I don’t care about any of that.”
I was confused. More partying and drugs ensued. Again, everyone was so nice and welcoming to me. Whenever I asked why, the only answer I ever got was, “That’s what I’m supposed to do.” No one even thought twice. They all gave that answer. No one was ever mad, sad, or shed a tear, except for Brenda, who was always exiled to the fringe.
Freddie says he had tickets to a basketball game. I say great, so we go. While there, Freddie says he wants a hot dog and a soda. I oblige, but walking back up the steps, I trip and the straw from the soda went right up my nose, and came out from the other side. When I tried to breathe, my breath made a strange noise. I later recognized this noise as it was the noise of the ventilator when my breathing rate was too low. I believe that this slip and fall with the straw was my comatose body processing being hooked up to a ventilator.
When I woke up from my coma, I struggled to understand what all of this meant. Why did my mind create this elaborate story for me to experience while I was in a coma? Who was Freddie, and who did he represent? Who was Brenda? Why did Freddie reject her? Why was everyone “supposed to do” nice things for me? I had so many questions, that for the first few days after I woke up, I just cried. I cried like I had never cried in my entire life.
I’m not sure if this is what you were looking for, but that was my spiritual experience regarding life, drugs, and a deeper meaning. This was extremely therapeutic for me to write this all down for once, and I left a few things out because they’ve become a bit fuzzy with time. Thank you for asking the question that inspired me to write this. :)