It was supposed to be a simple vacation to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico—one whole, glorious week alone with my husband without our three kids in tow for the first time in years. We had it all planned—we were going lie on the beach, do some deep-sea fishing and enjoy some great Mexican food. Instead, something frightening and wonderful happened—I had an out-of-body experience during a rock concert while we were there. I saw God and my soul. I never knew such things were possible, let alone under those circumstances.
Rock star Sammy Hagar owns a club in Cabo and he happened to be performing there the same week as our visit. My husband knew that Sammy had once been the lead singer of the bands Montrose and Van Halen, and that he had an extensive repertoire of solo albums as well, but I had never heard of him. However, since my husband and I both love rock music, we agreed to check out one of Sammy’s shows while we were on vacation.
When I first witnessed Sammy’s live performance, I was riveted. The music had an energy that was so raw, so loud, and so real that I wanted to absorb every bit of it. I couldn’t figure out why I’d never heard it before.
Sammy was appearing in several shows that week, and since my husband and I had such a great time at the first one, we decided to take in another. But when I walked through the wrought-iron gates of the cantina that next night expecting merely to enjoy the music of an international recording star, I had no idea that my life was about to change forever.
It happened toward the end of the show. With my orange tank top drenched in sweat, I was standing amongst a frenzied mob watching Sammy sing and play his guitar when all of a sudden I started to feel very strange. And despite the fact that it must have been at least two hundred and fifty degrees in the room, I didn’t feel like I was going to pass out; this sensation was beyond anything I’d ever known—like a whisper from another dimension of reality I couldn’t grasp. Before I could gather my thoughts, something familiar and warm began to flow back and forth between Sammy and me. It looked like a liquid band of golden light, but I didn’t see it, I felt it. I blinked my eyes, telling myself that it was just my imagination or that the heat must be taking its toll on me. What else would it be? Besides, why would I feel a connection to someone I didn’t know, someone I’d never even heard of? Pushing the ridiculous thought out of my head, I told myself it was time to get back to enjoying the concert and to quit being so silly. But apparently, whatever it was that was happening to me had its own agenda.
The next thing I knew, my spirit lifted up and out of my body like a camera going out of focus. I wanted to panic, but it happened so fast, I didn’t have time to panic. The higher I rose, the more I became engulfed in a white light and a feeling of ubiquitous joy, total acceptance—pure love. I heard my voice exclaim, “Oh … my … God …” because the feeling was so incredible that I just couldn’t fathom what was going on. And yet, I had to remind myself that the voice belonged to me because at the same time, it was coming from that body dancing in the crowd below that was also me.
How could I be in two places at once? I searched my brain for a logical explanation, but all I could come up with was, “Maybe I shouldn’t have had that second margarita! Maybe tequila is some kind of hallucinogen that I’d never heard of.” But my thoughts quickly disintegrated, as with each passing moment, it was becoming increasingly difficult to think. I was going higher and higher, just like the words in the song Sammy was singing. It was then that I realized I could see the words as they came out of Sammy’s mouth; they were tangible objects—light blue and gold and shimmering.
My spirit continued to rise and the higher I climbed, the more I absorbed feelings of bliss and ecstasy. I passed through the roof of the building as if it didn’t exist and floated upward through the clouds and into the night sky. I decided that since the sensation was so amazingly wonderful, (and that doesn’t come close to describing it) it was time to let go of the pervading hesitation and doubt I was still clinging to and allow the experience to take me. Higher. The instant I had that notion, the remnants of my remaining thoughts and senses dropped away completely, and I found myself in some other place or realm of consciousness. My body was made of smoke or clouds as a Divine Presence—also made of smoke or clouds—swirled around me and through me like the warm, sweet breath of someone you love with all your might, on your skin. I knew it was God. And we were One; God was me and I was God in some sort of energy that was alive, pulsating, and breathing like a living entity of its own, yet inextricably intertwined with everything that ever was or ever would be.
I was then shown that God wasn’t a race, a gender or a religion, but a combination of both genders and all races and religions, even the lack of these. And I saw how everything was connected—every grain of sand, every drop of rain, plant, animal, human and non-human being in this world and all worlds, including those I’d never considered before. And I knew that the only thing that matters in the universe is love. Every cell in my body was filled with it and overflowing. At the same time, I felt like I was inhaling microscopic grains of truth with every breath I took, because with each inhalation, came more clarity and more and more until I understood—the meaning of life, suffering, the truth to the existence of spirit—everything. Then I saw my soul and the purpose of my life. It was all perfect and simple; and I realized in that moment, that we—human beings—are the ones who make things complex.
I was whole for the first time in my life and I never knew I had been so fragmented. The sensation lasted only seconds and before I knew it, I was back in body. I looked around to see if anyone noticed anything, but no one gave any indication that anything out of the ordinary had taken place; they were all enjoying the show. Besides, it was just a rock concert.
Wasn’t it? As my awareness of time and place returned, my first thought was, “Maybe somebody slipped something into my drink when I wasn’t looking. That would explain it.” But I also knew that the experience would have lasted for more than a few seconds if someone had drugged me. Then I wondered if perhaps I’d just imagined the whole thing. But why would I and how could I? I didn’t have the sort of imagination it would take to invent an experience like that. Plus, I’d attended hundreds of concerts in my life and nothing remotely like that had ever happened to me.
From that instant, something in me was changed. I looked down at my hands and stretched out my arms because it felt like sunshine was streaming out of me. And when the concert ended and I made my way toward the door, I felt like I was walking ten feet above the ground; I was overcome with a joy I didn’t know was possible to feel.
The experience opened up something in me, as if a seed had been planted and it continued to grow. As the months and years passed, I began to see all of life differently—through the eyes of optimism—and I’d never been so happy and energized. Everyone else noticed the change in me too—my husband, my kids, my friends and neighbors—even the clerk at the grocery store.
I also developed psychic abilities I never knew I had. Things were happening to me that I didn’t believe were possible—visions of past lives, spirits, angels, aliens, and so much more. I came to the conclusion that either I had completely lost my mind, or I’d been blessed with an incredible gift. But why? Why me? And all due to a rock concert? These things didn’t happen, did they? But they were.
