At the boundary of life and death: experiences that can open profound questions.
What does it mean when someone says that a moment at the edge of life changed everything? This page invites us to listen, ask questions and leave room for different interpretations.
What is a near-death experience?
A near-death experience, or NDE, is a powerful subjective experience reported in circumstances including life-threatening situations. Not everyone who comes close to death remembers such an experience.
My experiences with this theme
Passages from my book, in my own words. Each excerpt is followed by a comparison with the theme of this page.
The Game I Could Never Explain
From the chapter · Renato Rossi
Some childhood memories have faded. This one has stayed. I was still a little boy; I no longer remember my exact age. Perhaps five or six, perhaps a little older. As I lay in bed at night, I could feel my body growing lighter. I had the sensation of leaving it and floating above it. I could see my room, my bed and myself lying there.
It happened many times. I knew the feeling that came before it and sometimes tried to bring it back. To the child I was, it was a game. I was not afraid. I felt freedom and a deep peace.
[…]
As an adult, I have often wondered what was happening. Was I dreaming? Was I between sleep and waking? Was it a child’s imagination? I have no definitive answer. What remains certain to me is how natural and peaceful it felt.
Connection and comparison
Memories of floating above the bed, freedom and peace are the starting point for the out-of-body experiences page. Comparison with NDEs concerns recognisable features, not an identical cause.
After the crisis of 1981, I was going through one of the heaviest periods of my life. During the day, I tried to find solutions. I had to begin again. I wanted to remain strong for my family. But at night, I carried the tension with me. During that period, I had an experience that has never left me. It began with an explosion. I saw my body thrown several yards away by its force.
But I felt no pain. Quite the opposite. At the same moment, I experienced an incredible peace. A feeling of bliss I had never known before. I was outside my body. Weightless. Light as a feather. From above, I saw people running toward my body. Doctors too were trying to resuscitate me. I saw everything they were doing. I shouted that I was all right. That I was not down there. That I was above them.
[…]
It was happiness without conditions. A profound peace in which there was no fear, pain, or worry. Never before had I felt anything like it. And never since have I been able to fully recover that feeling. Finally, I sensed that I was returning very gently to my body. As though a light feather were slowly descending and returning to its place. Then I awoke. I was crying. Not from sadness. I cried because the experience had felt so intense and so real.
Part of me did not want to lose that feeling of peace. Another part understood that I had returned to ordinary life, with all the worries waiting for me there. Was it a dream? An experience between sleep and wakefulness? Was it my consciousness creating another reality under the pressure of that difficult period? Or had I briefly touched something we cannot yet fully understand?
Connection and comparison
The chapter describes a night-time experience after the crisis of 1981, including peace, feeling outside the body and eventually waking. The out-of-body and NDE pages allow comparison without turning this account into a medically established resuscitation.
A sense of being outside the body, a light or a tunnel.
An encounter experienced as meaningful, or a review of one’s life.
Some experiences are frightening or confusing. There is no fixed sequence that everyone must recognise.
What does science investigate?
Researchers study accounts, memories and brain activity during resuscitation. In AWARE II (2023), 6 of 28 interviewed survivors described a transcendent experience. The small sample and difficulty establishing exactly when experiences occurred limit the conclusions.
This study does not prove life after death. Cardiac arrest during resuscitation is not the same as irreversible brain death. The precise relationship between memories and measured brain activity remains a research question.
Some people understand their experience as an encounter with love, connection or something greater than themselves. Others give it a psychological, physical or still-open meaning. A deeply felt personal certainty and an independently demonstrated explanation are different things.
We do not have to share an explanation to take an experience seriously. Asking “What did this change for you?” can open more space than a debate in which someone must defend everything they experienced.
Returning to everyday life
People sometimes report less fear of death, different priorities or greater attention to relationships. Feeling out of place and struggling to resume everyday life are also described. Changes vary from person to person and can take time to integrate.
If fear, sleeplessness or confusion persist, a doctor or psychologist can help with integrating the experience while respecting the person’s perspective.
Listening without judgement
Let the person describe things in their own words, without supplying details.
Ask what they need: someone to listen, quiet or help with their questions.
Allow uncertainty and different beliefs. No one has to adopt an explanation.
Renato’s personal story
Renato describes a night-time experience after the crisis of 1981, ending with waking. He leaves open whether it was a dream, an experience between sleep and wakefulness or something else. The doctors and resuscitation are part of the experience recounted; the chapter does not document a medically confirmed cardiac arrest. Its connection with NDEs concerns similar features and life questions.
The study and the research team’s overview concern scientific investigation. IANDS collects accounts and offers information and support; spiritual interpretations on its website are not established scientific conclusions.
