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  • Writer's pictureMiriam Olivier

The Coma Stage 3: Limbo in a coma

Updated: Dec 10, 2023

I have shot out of the hospital. I have long left my body. ​It was so fast I didn’t even notice it. One second I was hovering somewhere in the corridors with fluorescent lights, the next I was shooting through the air. It was as if I was being pulled forward by a cord to my chest, so fast and furiously it was like a rush of wind and light and freedom.

In real time I have no idea how long I was trapped in these endless buildings and hospital corridors. I still had a vague idea of who I was then. I was . . . well, someone. A person who was scared. I was still somewhere near my body, the one lying that bed. But I have left that behind me now. It is such a relief. I have left the hospital and that body on the bed behind me now and I am somewhere else entirely. There is no noise of machines or doctors here. There are no buildings. I am soaring far away from all that in the sunlight and the world is more familiar. There is a horizon. There is land and sun. I am in the clouds and looking down like a bird in flight. Now I am no one. I have no name. I am not a body and not a mind. I am just a thought. I am nothing. I am just like a feather in the wind. I am floating across landscapes and terrains. Freedom and light. Bliss. I am not in a city familiar to me any more. I move over some familiar lands, over the sea, but I have moved on now, far away. I am feeling and sensation. I have a mind that is observing. I want to look around. So I fly through the clouds. I swoop over the fields. I do not know I am in a coma. I am just a lone soul with no name, simply floating. I am content to be here. I can control where I move. I can swoop lower, play with the birds, move through clouds. So I have thought and I have feeling. But I have no past. The world of nightmares is gone, and it is out of my mind. Perhaps that was yesterday, perhaps a thousand years ago. I have no real agenda. The only thing I have is a vague feeling of discomfort. Like I don’t really want to be here, and I have somewhere to go, someone to find. But I am not sure where I want to be. I am spectacularly aimless. Like a cloud on a summer’s breeze. But not quite. Something is pressing me forward. Some elemental desire. It was so slight it was barely an impulse. Just a passing thought. I must move on. I am drawn to a particular farm. It slightly resembles a Tuscan summer. Warm fields full of trees bursting with fruit. Green fields and a house on the hill. There is a man there and I am drawn to him. He is a father. There are children with him. I float down to be with them. They are building this beautiful wooden house. It is a home for a family. A father and two children. I want to be with this family. I spend a long time there. I am in the sun wrapped in my fantasies of another life. But they do not see me. They do not love me. I will come back another time and visit. I must move on. I cannot stay here. Not forever. They are not my people. I am out. There is no transition. I do not travel. I am just somewhere else. Out of the house. I feel blissful freedom. I am in a new realm. This is not the real world any more. I have left farmlands and horizons far behind. There are no houses here. This is only a space for spirits and other beings. This feels good. It is light and good.

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