Application of Impossible Things: A Near Death Experience in Iraq

The Application of

Impossible Things

My Near Death

Experience in Iraq

By Natalie Sudman

© 2012 by Natalie Sudman

All rights reserved. No part of this book, in part or in whole, may be reproduced, transmitted or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic, photographic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from Ozark Mountain Publishing, Inc. except for brief quotations embodied in literary articles and reviews.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Sudman, Natalie, 1960-

Application of Impossible Things
-
My Near Death Experience in Iraq,
by Natalie Sudman

Natalie’s near death experience when her truck was hit with a roadside bomb in Iraq. She recalls the entire spirit side experience as they repair her body so she could live.

1. Near Death Experience 2. Iraq 3. Spirit Side 4. Metaphysics

I. Sudman, Natalie, 1960- II. Metaphysics III. Iraq IV. Title

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2011945965

ISBN: 978-1-886940-24-6

Cover Art and Layout:
www.noir33.com

Book set in: Times New Roman

Book Design: Julia Degan

Published by:

PO Box 754, Huntsville, AR 72740

800-935-0045 or 479-738-2348; fax 479-738-2448

www.ozarkmt.com

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - The Catalyst

Chapter 2 - The Environment

Chapter 3 - Personalities, Interaction, and Intent

Chapter 4 - Choice, Purpose, and Responsibility

Chapter 5 - Skills and the Consciousness/Body Connection

Chapter 6 - R and R

Chapter 7 - Healing & Assistance

Chapter 8 - Jumping Off

Chapter 9 - The Application of Impossible Things

Glossary

Author’s Note

Getting blown up was not a solo event, but the experiences and interpretations set forth in this book are mine alone. To my knowledge, no one else present during the incident recalls any similar experiences. My guess is that if any of them become aware of this book, they will shake their heads, roll their eyes, and attribute my memories to hallucinations of stress or the unfortunate side effects of severe concussion. Some will be embarrassed on my behalf, bless their generous hearts.

In an effort to protect the privacy of others who were present during and after the incident, names of individuals have been changed, place names have been avoided, and dates have been deliberately omitted.

If any of those people do happen read this book, though, I want to thank you from the bottom of my soul. Thank you for carrying me to safety and patching me up while I blabbered on morphine. Thank you for operating on me with such fine results, and for flying me from place to place in your helos* and C130s. Thank you for worrying about me, caring for me with attention and humor, and for pushing me when I needed it. Thank you for listening and patiently answering my endless questions, and thank you for laughing with me—and at me! Thank you for dealing with the horrors of federal paperwork involved when an army civilian is blown up and for insisting on a place for my care within the military facilities, then monitoring the quality of that care. Thank you for calling me on the phone from far-flung places and for visiting me and telling me I looked good when I looked like shit. Thank you for bringing me amazing gifts … all those anonymous strangers just walking into my room: who were all of you angels?! Thank you for sending emails and funny cards and colorful flowers and seeds that grew as my body healed. Thank you for presenting me with medals that I didn’t deserve and for believing that I did deserve them. Thank you for including me in your prayers and thoughts though I’d never even met most of you. I was, and still am, overwhelmed and profoundly moved by having been on the receiving end of such an unimaginable outpouring of care and generosity.

I will always look for ways to pass that beauty forward.

PREFACE

I was blown up in a roadside bomb attack in Iraq. The incident has had lasting effects on my physical life: vision in my right eye was affected, and I still have limited mobility in one wrist and shoulder. Small titanium patches cover holes in my skull.

Within the context of working in Iraq, getting blown up is an interesting (if rather histrionic) memory that gains its full value when viewed through the complex whole of the war environment and the work that I did there. Those memories describe a trajectory and an environment that would fill a book—but not this book.

Rather than focusing on a broad perspective by relating a story of sixteen months working in Iraq administering construction contracts for the US Army, in this book I intend to stay narrow, digging into what took place within a few short seconds at the time of the explosion. Or perhaps between seconds. When our truck was hit by the improvised explosive device (IED), I had what the paranormal community would refer to as an out-of-body experience.

I use the out-of-body or OBE designation without being certain it’s the best description. Near death experience or NDE, might also be accurate. When the explosion occurred, I immediately left my body. I didn’t experience the classic tunnel of light that others have reported. I simply blinked to another place, one that was familiar in essence. I was conscious, and I
know
—not
believe
—that what I experienced was real.

I’d like to think that telling this story and exploring some of its details and implications might in some way assist others, yet I approach it with some internal resistance. My reasons for hesitation have to do with issues that many others must recognize: fear and insecurity. First and foremost, I hesitate to expose a low-profile paranormal awareness to the general public and thus open myself to the possibility of ridicule and scorn of particular and various friends whose connections I value. Responding to skepticism by listening politely can be tedious. Engaging skeptics in dialogue about psychic phenomena is rarely fruitful.

Secondly, I question whether I own appropriate authority to write about things that others may be able to address more clearly or with greater depth and assurance. This is not to say that I don’t trust my own perception or my personal authority but rather an acknowledgement that people prefer a solid string of proven past performance in a writer. If I could cite a few scientific studies of psi phenomena in which I’d participated and produced amazing results or if I introduced myself by providing proof of a few years’ worth of amazing psychic predictions, perhaps I’d be more comfortable introducing myself. I present none of those credentials.

Finally, similar experiences have been recounted in many books. Why add another?

Some recent events have forced me to admit to myself that certain things that come easily and naturally to me are not necessarily easy and instinctive for others. What people seek through a burgeoning choice of institutes, classes, groups and belief systems, I have to admit I’ve always known and frequently put to use. At times I’ve buried the skills or tried to deny them, but being of my
essence
, they’re impossible to actually lose. And finding life unbearably dull or alarmingly sloppy without their use keeps prompting me to return to them.

Since I was a child, I’ve had precognitive dreams and waking “visions.” Ever since I can remember, I’ve been acutely aware of the energy of buildings and old battlefields and have often seen and interacted with spirits. I’ve had out-of-body experiences, given accurate psychic readings for friends and strangers, and journeyed through worlds and dimensions as shamans do. As evidence, however, I can’t comfortably present these experiences as proof or validation of any authority I might have in the subject of the paranormal. In only a few instances have I shared an experience with someone who could attest to its truth.

My internal assurance of the validity of what I know to be true, then, is currently my only authority for addressing subjects that fall under the broad category of the paranormal. The final impetus to
set aside
my fears and insecurities in order to write this story is the possibility that there may be people like me out there who have had similar experiences and
want to know that they aren’t the only ones fumbling around on their own
.
Or that there may be people
who want to know more
yet haven’t found the particular voice that they connect with, the voice that causes them to think,
Yes! Yes! Me, too!
Most of the voices that I’ve found in books and media are, frankly, not ones that I connect with for various reasons that first express themselves most easily in negatives: I don’t believe that I have to join an ashram, study with the Dalai Lama, sweat with an Amerindian, drink ayahuasca with a Peruvian shaman, pay thousands of dollars for a workshop, or otherwise participate in someone’s belief system to reach wisdom, touch nirvana, perform miracles, connect with my higher self or a creator, or achieve oneness with all. I don’t believe that there are universal dream symbologies or universally applicable interpretations for the appearance of animals in one’s life. I don’t believe that I require crystals, scents, or food regimes to raise my vibrational awareness or capacity. I don’t believe that someone else holds the key to my path to enlightenment. I don’t believe that others’ rituals will necessarily work well for me, or that what I see is more valid than what they see, or that I can create absolutely anything that I want in life by following their ten steps. I don’t believe my experiences or skills make me more valuable or special than other people. My experiences and explorations suggest that the tools, props, and disciplines espoused by spiritual groups and individual interests are ultimately unnecessary. They can be invaluable
starting
points or training tools, but they are not
requirements
and can at worst become impediments to personal exploration, expansion, and finding answers to one’s own best questions.

Expressed in the positive, I believe that the paranormal is normal. I believe that we all have the natural capacity of various psychic sensitivities though some people may have more natural skill or talent in the same way some have a more natural talent for music or baseball. I know the limiting power of fears and cultural programming that we carry without really being aware of the influence they have on our lives. I believe science is capable of describing some energies known to paranormal practitioners and would already have done so if only the bulk of the scientific world would quit insisting that something doesn’t exist just because it hasn’t been described or doesn’t fit current theory (which is, after all,
theory
). I believe that the tools offered through books, training programs, individual teachers and gurus (including scientists and clergy), are valuable only up to the point that they’re left behind, and students become their own teachers. I believe that we each choose to experience our lives
as they are
while continuing to learn, create, and change from that present moment, always, in some way, enhancing us as whole beings, as well as enhancing each other’s experiences here in the physical universe—most often unconsciously but always with each other’s consent. And I believe in the profound value of taking personal responsibility for everything that I create and experience in my life.

I also believe in my own ineptitude and confusion within that creation and experience while simultaneously being perfectly and profoundly whole and at peace.

Although similar experiences of OBEs or NDEs have drastically changed others’ understandings of reality, my experience has acted as a confirmation and expansion. I’ve experienced paranormal phenomena ever since I can remember, and though I did learn to keep most of those perceptions to myself, I generally retain a trust in my experiences regardless of the cultural programming that incessantly claims it to be fiction. So although I won’t describe my OBE experience as a revolution, it is part of an ongoing personal evolution, and, in conjunction with the physical effects of having been blown up, it has affected my life.

Setting aside my fears and insecurities
, then,
I’ve decided to write about my experiences and thoughts regarding it, both for my own enjoyment and in hopes of continuing expansion through dialogue. And if what I’ve experienced proves valuable to even one person who reads this book, I’ll consider that to have been far more useful than protecting my petty fears.