My first experience "out of the body"

In the fall of 1910, while living in Burlington, Vermont, I had, one evening, retired rather early. In addition to the usual thoughts running through the mind I was much interested in listening to the music floating up from downstairs where my husband, who is a violinist, was rehearsing a string quartet for a coming local concert. The musicians were playing a quartet by Beethoven, my favorite composer. I was enjoying the music exceedingly, regretting that my pleasure was occasionally marred not only by the playing of the second violinist, a young Frenchman, who, although a very good amateur, had the misfortune of playing out of tune now and then, but also by the too-loud playing of the cellist, a local merchant. I had been enjoying Beethoven for some time in spite of the faults of these two players, when suddenly I underwent a very strange experience. A feeling of deep oppression and apprehension came over me not unlike that which precedes a fainting spell. I braced myself against it, but to no avail. The overpowering oppression deepened and soon numbness crept over me until every muscle became paralyzed. In this condition I remained for some time. My mind, however, was still working as clearly as ever. At first I heard the music plainly, but soon the sounds began to slip away from me by degrees until finally everything became a blank, and I was unconscious to life and the world. How long this state lasted I do not know. What happened during this period I am also unable to relate. The next thing I knew was that I, myself, was standing on the floor beside my bed looking down attentively at my own physical body lying in it.

I recognized every line in that familiar face, pale and still as in death, the features drawn, the eyes tightly closed and the mouth partly open. The arms and hands rested limp and lifeless beside the body. I gazed at that material form of mine for a few moments while mingled feelings passed over me. Strangely enough, they were not feelings of great surprise. I experienced no shock at finding myself in this peculiar situation. It was chiefly curiosity that possessed my mind. I was perfectly calm and composed as I viewed the mortal form I had just previously inhabited. I now raised my eyes from my body, and looked around the room. Everything appeared to me as natural as ever. There was the little table with books and trinkets on it; there were the bureau, the dresser, the big arm chair, the smaller chairs, the green carpet on the floor, the red wallpaper with its patterns of urns and flowers— those figures which I had often counted over when sleepless. And there was the little partly-shaded electric lamp which lighted my bedroom, burning as usual. While my eyes observed these familiar objects the music from downstairs kept floating up to my ears. I glanced once more at my body which, to all appearances, seemed dead. Then I turned and walked slowly towards the door, passed through it and into a hall that led to the bathroom. As I walked towards that room past the stairway, I heard the music coming up with increased force, and I delighted in the lovely adagio from Beethoven's Op. 127 Quartet, a special favorite of mine. As I entered the bathroom the strains gradually diminished in volume. I now approached a large mirror hanging above the washbowl. Through force of habit I went through the motions of turning on the electric light, which of course I did not actually turn on. But there was no need for illumination for from my body and face emanated a strong whitish light that lighted up the room brilliantly.

Looking into the mirror I became aware for the first time of the astonishing transformation I had undergone. Instead of seeing a middle-aged woman, I beheld the figure of a girl about eighteen years of age. I recognized the form and features of my girlhood. But I was now infinitely more beautiful. My face appeared as if it were chiseled out of the finest alabaster and it seemed transparent, as did my arms and hands when I raised them to touch my hair. It seemed as if I could see through them. But they were not entirely translucent, for in the center of the arms and hands and fingers there was a darker, more compact substance, as in X-ray photographs. My eyes, quite strong in the physical body were piercingly keen now.

They shone with such lustre that the mirror reflected their penetrating beams. My hair, no longer gray, was now, as in my youth, dark brown, and it fell in waves over my shoulders and down my back. And to my delight, I was dressed in the loveliest white shining garment imaginable—a sleeveless one—piece dress, cut low at the neck and reaching almost to the ankles. I looked down at my legs and saw that they were as beautiful as my arms, neck and face.

 I walked forward and backward before the mirror reveling in my newly-found beauty. When I looked myself full in the face I became almost frightened at the strength and brilliancy of my eyes. I raised my hands before my face and closed and opened the fingers. They seemed so airy and delicate. Yet I felt no lack of strength in them and no change of sensation in moving them. My joy and enthusiasm were unbounded at seeing myself so beautiful. Eagerly I drank in the glory. It was also an exhilarating sensation to be conscious of the fact that I was out of my physical body and that I lived in the astral.

This realization never once left me. During the time that I was occupied before the mirror I had followed, more or less carelessly, the music from the quartet. But now I forgot my vanity and listened attentively. Suddenly I heard the strains of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto. I knew at once that the Frenchman was playing the solo. It was a habit he always indulged while the music was being changed on the stands. But, as always, he played it out of tune. As usual I felt disgusted and for the moment forgetting all about myself I muttered angrily, "Oh! I wish my husband would tell that Frenchman to play that Concerto in tune or not to play it at all." Fortunately the quartet now began to play again and the soothing music of Beethoven calmed me.

Once more I turned to admire myself in the mirror. Not being content to enjoy my beauty alone I wished that others might see it and share with me the joy. A block away from us lived a Miss B., a friend of mine who had often complimented me on my taste in dressing and on my general appearance. I conceived the notion that I would go to her and show myself. "Won't she be astonished!" I asked myself. "If she complimented me before, what will she say now?" "But first," I reflected, "I will go down and present myself to my husband and the other men." I thought with amusement of the expression that would sweep across their astonished faces. I did not fancy that had I succeeded in getting up to Miss B., or down to my husband and the other musicians, none of them would have been able to see me at all, unless perchance some of them possessed the ability to see me as "a ghost."

No sooner had I conceived this intention than I proceeded to carry it out. Turning away from the mirror I walked out into the hall. Enjoying in anticipation the success of my plan, I stepped on gaily. I reveled in the feeling of bodily lightness. While in the physical body one has to move the legs with conscious effort, now I moved with the freedom of thought. It was a delightful sensation. No one could be happier than I when I began the descent of the stairway. The Beethoven music sounded lovelier than ever. It increased in force as I advanced step by step.

 But, alas, my pleasant plan was not to be realized and my hopes of exciting admiration and wonder were to be dashed to the ground. Just as I came to the little platform which divides the stairway into two flights, I saw, standing before me, a woman spirit in shining clothes with arms outstretched and with forefinger pointing upwards. There was a look of strong determination on her face as she spoke to me sternly, "Where are you going? Go back to your body!" Whether it was that on this, my first experience "out of my body," I was not to be permitted to enjoy more than this short trail or that I had broken unwittingly some rule governing such experience I knew instinctively—that from this spirit's command and authority there was no appeal. I must obey. Reluctantly I turned, ascended the stairs walked through the ball into my bedroom and up to my bed. My physical body lay there as still and lifeless as when I left it. I viewed it with feelings of loathing and disappointment. I knew that I would soon have to enter it again, no matter how ugly it seemed to me, or however much I shrank from it. The music rising from below also helped to sadden my spirit in that it reminded me of my failure to present myself before my husband in my changed form. But no time was left me for reflections. In another instant I had again joined with my physical form. With a gasp and a start I woke up in it.

Somewhat confused at first, I soon regained my usual composure of mind. And there the strange experience I had just passed through stood before me in all its vividness. I was now in a position to confirm through personal knowledge the truth of the possibility that one can leave the physical body, taste life in the astral and return again to the earthly form. Now I heard the music once more through my mortal ears. But soon the rehearsal ended. When I related to my husband the story of my supernatural experience and we compared notes as to what had occurred downstairs, that which I had heard with my astral ears agreed to the smallest detail with what he told me had taken place at the rehearsal. This was my first experience "out of the body."

 But since then I have often been accorded the privilege. I have traveled far and wide in space, visited heavenly bodies; visited many parts of the Spirit World where I have seen and heard things which I believe have never been given to the world.

 In the preceding description of my first experience "out of the body" it will be remembered that I was confined to the limits of my home. For some unknown reason a woman spirit prevented me from leaving the house. But as time went on and these experiences continued I was gradually allowed more and more liberty and soon I wandered rather widely about. At first I traveled only through my immediate neighborhood but as I gained experience in handling myself in the astral I took more extensive trips which covered the greater part of the earth. In these trips I gathered a complete knowledge of the spirit existence immediately after death: how they live, how they act and think. Let me say in passing that most spirits, until they gravitate to their proper realm, remain for a time in the environment where they spent their earthly life. Then with the aid of guides I was permitted extensive travels into the great realms of the spirits where I learned about the conditions governing their future existence, observed spirit existence in all its diverse forms of life. Finally, most remarkable of all, I was granted the unusual privilege of a trip into the very abyss of space to witness the wonderful spectacle of the universe ablaze with life.

If all of the information concerning life hereafter which I gathered on these occasions could become generally accepted, the present dread of so-called "death" would entirely disappear. Our grief and despair at the loss of our loved ones would change into a calm resignation in the face of the conviction that as the "dead" are more alive than ever, the separation is but momentary, the reunion is. close at hand.

 Without further preliminaries I shall begin my narrative of life after death. I shall divide my story into three parts. First, I shall describe the manner of life here on earth immediately after death. Secondly, I shall picture life in the real realms of the Spirits; and finally, I shall give my observations of the surging life which fills the entire Universe.