The first thought that came this way was “lapis lazuli.” I had used lapis lazuli jewelry in book on several significant occasions. The gold-speckled, deep-blue gemstone was highly prized in those times. In book, it is presented as a gift to Sarah, high priestess, during Sacred Marriage Rite. Elsewhere, I have Abraham giving Hagar a lapis lazuli necklace and matching earrings upon consummating their love. A lapis lazuli-colored scarf also figures meaningfully in story.

“Yes,” I thought to myself. “That’s it! That’s my cover. A lapis lazuli necklace and earrings and a lapis lazuli scarf. A perfect metaphor for full story.”

I was elated, exhilarated. I loved simplicity of idea, richness of deep-blue color, poetic symbolism.

But there was only one problem: I could not locate images of scarf and jewelry. I even had trouble locating an image of a lapis lazuli gemstone. Though I still had a couple of days left to find right image, I now feared that my book would be canceled since I had nothing for cover.

I paced nervously through house that evening, going back and forth between bedroom and study. I paused before my nature pictures which cover walls, photographs that I had taken of sunrises and sunsets, lakes and oceans, trees, flowers and clouds. I don’t know why I turned to these images -- perhaps to relax me, to comfort me, to inspire me, which they have always done. Suddenly, my eyes fixed on a blazing red sunrise, with a white cloud spiraling into sky, hovering over a dark lake.

Whenever I looked at that spectacular image, in past, it always left me awed and breathless. This time, however, sunrise addressed me in a new way — its blazing colors spoke to me of erotic passions, its cloud spiraling upwards spoke to me of sacred and heavenly, of dreams and dreamers, fiery pillar emerging out of darkness spoke to me of immanent and transcendent God, great Mystery, awesome Mystery, holy Mystery, loving Mystery in which we move and live and have our being.

Yes, this was cover! This was my cover! It had emerged from wondrous mystery of creative process. It reminded me, once more, to stay loose, remain flexible and trust that process, that Mystery, in all its creative variations.

Copyright 2002 Rolf Gompertz. All rights reserved.

The ride was long, but I had nothing else to do but go for it. Finally, end of tunnel was in sight. I came out into a kind of space, a stillness, where there was a glow of energy addressing me. It was like a spark of life, energy glowing with intelligence, not in a human form, just pure consciousness. It seemed that some distance away, there was another spark just observing scene.

I felt as though I were having an exit interview, something like, "Well, your trip is over now, so complete things in your consciousness about that, and we'll move on." I looked back and saw my life as I had lived it, completed my thoughts about things that had happened, understood a lot of things differently, and then expressed that I was ready. The Being began to move away. I began to follow, and then I paused. The Being quickly asked me what thought was that had just entered my consciousness. I had thought that it would be a shame for my daughters to have grown up without their father in their life. I had spent a large part of my life without my father in it, and I would have liked my daughters to not have to have experienced that. Anyway, I was ready to go. The Being said that because my reason for wanting to return was somebody outside myself, I would be allowed to return. Before I had chance to express that I didn't really want to return, there was a rapid, confused movement, something happened, other spark which had been "observing" was somehow a part of it, and then I was waking up in this body, in traumatic pain, with intense drama going on around me in hospital. I felt as if I had just jumped into a movie that had been underway, but that I had not been one in body before this moment. Because of trauma and drama, my attention was directed to things happening in physical world, and memory of what had happened before was somehow obliterated. I had other things happening which were demanding my attention, and besides, I did not have belief systems that would allow me to accept what had just happened.

Over next year, I began to explore ideas and philosophies I had no experience of before. I read books like "Life After Life," and "Life After Death," and other writings which described what people called, "Near Death Experiences," and I began to remember what had happened. I saw similarities to what others had experienced, and I knew then what had happened to me. I thought also of similarities to what we consider "normal" birth process, where babies are born into bright lights and loud sounds and being slapped, and perhaps, their attention is so much directed to outer things that they forget their inner experiences just before process of being born.

From time to time, I meet others who have made trip, and we compare notes. "What was it like for you?" One woman said that before, she was certain there would be a Being on other side with a big book, looking at what she had and had not done, and making checks and crosses, good marks and bad marks. When she got to other side, there really was a Being there with a big book, just as she thought there would be. The only bad marks she got, though, were for things that she hadn't done. Her only sin was self-denial.

My diagnosis on leaving hospital was "Spinal Cord Tumor." There was no treatment possible. I was given one or two months to live, and I decided to do that living my new philosophy of "I'm glad I did." I decided to work on myself, working in my consciousness to release tumor. Later, doctors decided that they must have made a mistaken diagnosis.

But that's another story.

By Martin Brofman, Ph.D.