In August of 1996, a good friend of mine, a guy that I had previously dated, came down for a visit to Laguna Beach where I live. We decided that we'd go out with some friends, he'd spend the night, and then we'd play tennis and go to the beach the next day. The following day, after our tennis game, as we walked out onto the sand, the first thing that went through my mind when I saw the surf was: "Someone could really die out there." The day before, a storm had come in from Tahiti producing some of the largest waves we've seen in this area, up to twenty feet at some beaches. The conditions were so unusual that the story made the front page of the next day's Orange County Times.

As I look back, what was interesting about my thinking that "someone could die out there" was that it wasn't a dramatic proclamation charged with a lot of fear. It felt like any random thought running through my head, like the sky is blue, or an orange is orange. Besides, I had nothing to fear. The lifeguards had put out red flags indicating rip tide, there were only a few people at the beach, no one was in the water (except our friendly marine life and they even knew to lay low) so, there wasn't a question in my mind about going for a swim.

My friend and I proceeded to walk to the northern part of the beach, we staked our spot and collapsed on to our towels, tired from tennis. About forty-five minutes passed, and I started to get fidgety because it was so hot. So, I put my sunglasses on, walked over to the water, and waded in up to my ankles. That was safe. Unfortunately, however, it wasn't much relief. I then walked out far enough so that the water could come up to my knees even though I had trouble balancing myself because the current was so strong. By this time, my friend, who is a big guy, over six foot, joined me and I promptly wrapped my arm under his to keep upright. Now, if you can imagine this moment as being point "A" and the following moment as point "B", I have no recollection, then or now, how I got to point "B".

My friend and I started chatting about whatever and the next thing I know is that he's cradling me in his arms and he's chest deep in the water. At that time, there weren't any waves coming in and he is tall enough and was still able to touch the bottom. So for whatever reason, I felt safe, for about a moment. Out into the distance, a large wave was forming.

As a nine foot wave approached us, my "friend" let go of me. I remember being in a state of disbelief: "How did this happen? How did I get here?" Having never been in this kind of surf before, and feeling already worn out from tennis, I felt completely overwhelmed, trapped. It felt like a bad joke. I didn't know what to do. I started to panic.

The ripe tide was so incredibly strong that trying to swim to shore seemed futile, it was just sucking us out as the wave approached. Looking at my friend for an answer, he told me to go the very bottom of the wave. So, I dove under it and dug my fingers into the ocean floor. Nevertheless, it picked me up and churned me about as if a wild bull had me by the horns. It felt like I was being sacked by the entire defense of the USC football team. Never had I felt so overpowered. Then, the whitewash held me under for so long that by the time I finally made my way up to the surface, there was already another wave to deal with and no time to catch my breath.

As one wave after another rolled in, the situation seemed more than I could endure. I felt totally out of control and became very, very scared. There was no one around to help us. I was screaming for the lifeguards but they were too far away to hear me and my friend was busy taking care of himself. I was desperate. My fear was totally consuming me and I knew I was flailing. Thrashing about in my attempt to stop what was happening to me, I was using up all of my energy and was no longer swimming properly. I started to hyperventilate. At that instance, I became aware of the possibility that if I didn't get help soon, I might not make it out of the storm.

My assessment of the situation put me in a total rage - how stupid to be in the water in the first place! At this point, I knew I had to make a concerted effort to take back control of my mind, this was my only chance. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, I thought "If I am going to die, then I don't want to die like this, in this state of emotion, this state of being," it would have been too traumatic. And, yet, at the same time, in another layer of reality that I seemed to be occupying from a "higher" perspective, I knew that my only chance of getting out of this mess was through completely letting go of my fear. My fear was killing me. In a flash of deep insight, I realized that I would have to totally surrender to what was happening and acquiesce to the experience. I had to somehow make it okay. The only problem was, that because I was so convinced of my death, I had to make that okay.

At this point, every nanosecond felt like an hour. Time truly stood still. And as I began to let go of my fear and give into the experience, at that moment while I was in the water, I looked back and saw "me", as I was forty- five minutes before, standing on the sand and thinking: "Someone could really die out there," and now I practically was. I realized that I was creating everything, that those thoughts were the source of my experience. What happened next is difficult to explain because it was so "internal."

As I previously figured out, I had to allow what was happening in order to save myself (paradox?). So, I let go, gave in and said "all right." And preparing for the possibility of crossing over, a calm peace came over me as I had a sudden and distinct feeling that I was going to go somewhere, like on a new adventure or trip. I even felt curious and a little bit excited to see what was coming next. But, then, preparing for the possibility of my departure, I felt an overwhelming sadness at the realization that I wasn't going to be "me" anymore. Like the final night of playing a character in a play, I was going to miss being "me" although there was a definite sense that I would somehow be more than the "me" I was in this life. I experienced a poignant love, honor and respect for myself that, previously, I had never known. It was almost blissful.

What I noticed and thought was strange was that, during all of this, my consciousness, my mind, seemed to become more clear and focused, like it was almost becoming stronger. I didn't feel like I was going into a fog or that the "lights were going out" or that my mind was dying. There was absolutely no sense of annihilation with regards to my consciousness. It simply felt like I was being separated from my body and this lifetime. I felt weightless, like I could fly. I was still in total of control of "my being," I just no longer felt attached to my body. And for a second, I glanced down at my body floating in the water. I saw myself against the blueness of the ocean that looked like it was illuminated from the sun overhead. I sensed my guides all around me and many "people." I could hear them more than anything else. It sounded like people talking. The evident support was quite profound to me as I certainly didn't feel alone.

In acceptance of what was taking place, there was no pain and my struggle naturally ceased. In fact, it was intriguing to me, this pioneering of new territory. I sensed the presence of two of my friends that had recently passed on as they seemed to be there with open arms. I wanted to ask them questions and get "the scoop" of what it was like, as I was so close to the veil. What I sensed about the "other side" was that there existed no judgment for what occurs there or here on Earth. Leaving Earth, or the dimension of the physical, felt like walking away from a football game and knowing it was just a game. Plays would be reviewed, strategies discussed, and there would be a chance to play again somewhere down the road. I understood that people who had committed atrocious violations in their lifetimes on Earth didn't "feel" remorse on the other side. It was like some kind of neutral zone.

Then, unexpectedly, my awareness suddenly turned to imagining the impact my death would have on my family and loved ones. I saw the world without me in it. I watched the anguish of my parents as if it was a movie being played before me. Watching this "movie," I began feeling guilty, like I had done something terribly wrong. Their pain was too much to bear. It was with great determination that I resolved to make it back, more now for them, than, perhaps, for myself.

Looking around, I saw a line of buoys and thought to swim to them, but decided that the current was too volatile and there would still be the waves to contend with. So, I came up with a strategy where I would take a chance and not go to the bottom of the next wave. I would get thrashed for sure but, it might push me in close enough so that I would have a chance to swim to shore. This worked. And in accordance with the grace of God - we had a momentary cessation of waves - my friend and I were able to make it to shore. Adjusting my bathing suit to where it should be, I quickly walked to the ladies restroom, kneeled down on the floor in front of the sink and, in between heavy sobbing, thanked God and the Goddess.

For the remainder of the day I was in a mild state of shock. I remember wanting to touch things (I walked away with a keen awareness that the density of the physical doesn't exist on the other side of the veil). I allowed myself to cry and cry and cry to fully process what had happened because I was concerned that it might haunt me later (it hasn't). But throughout my dazed and confused state the rest of that day, something inside me registered that I had experienced something quite profound. It felt as if a new seed of peace had been planted, a new knowing.

In A Glimpse

It took me about a year to retrace and consider the many layers of consciousness that I experienced that day within a very brief span of time. This wasn't a near death experience as it was more of an initiation. I didn't see the tunnel or the light, and I wasn't unconscious. I call this an initiation because I received a lesson that day regarding the power of our thoughts and how they direct our experience - if you think something in 4-d 100%, it's delivered 100% with a big red bow around it. I have since been practicing the art of safeguarding what is on my mind.

In addition, my model of reality has shifted. I now perceive reality to be more of an ongoing intersection of various material and spiritual dimensions, or realms. Like how the "y" and "x" axis intersect or how two circles in a vesica pisces intersect. We are like the life that exists in the middle of that intersection. And when the lifetime and the energy in that intersection is over and expended, we return to the world of pure consciousness, energy and spirit from where we sprang.

I can not deny, however, that in my impromptu preparation for departure from this world, I experienced in a glimpse what it is like on the other side. When I decided in that minute to let go of the struggle for my existence here, I strangely, yet undeniably felt like I was embarking on a new journey. In those brief seconds, the two most distinct notions I came away with are: we are pure consciousness alive and in control of our experiences, and that there exists absolutely no judgment after death. It was very similar to lucid dreaming where we are consciously aware and in control while the sensations of the physical are absent. In addition, my fear of death still exists, but to a considerably lesser degree. In other words, I haven't taken to walking on the ledge of skyscrapers. I still value my existence in 3-d and wish to remain in physicality for some time to come.

Krysta is a Pleiadian channel, sound healer and sound therapist who started channeling 13 years ago when studying at sacred sites in Europe and Egypt. She conducts workshops in the Orange County area and is a founding member of The Center for the Possible Human in Costa Mesa.