“Proof of Heaven: A Neurosurgeon’s Journey into the Afterlife”

Excerpts from the novel by Eben Alexander


A man should look for what is, and not for what he thinks should be. — Albert Einstein (1879-1955)

When I was a kid, I would often dream of flying.

Most of the time I’d be standing out in my yard at night, looking up at the stars, when out of the blue I’d start floating upward. The first few inches happened automatically. But soon I’d notice that the higher I got, the more my progress depended on me – on what I did. If I got too excited, too swept away by the experience, I would plummet back to the ground… hard. But if I played it cool, took it all in stride, then off I would go, faster and faster, up into the starry sky.

Maybe those dreams were part of the reason why, as I got older, I fell in love with airplanes and rockets – with anything that might get me back up there in the world above this one. When our family flew, my face was pressed flat to the window from takeoff to landing. In the summer of 1968 when I was fourteen, I spent all the money I’d earned mowing lawns on a set of sailplane lessons with a guy named Gus Street at Strawberry Hill, a little grass strip “airport” just west of Winston-Salem, the town where I grew up. I still remember the feeling of my heart pounding as I pulled the big cherry red knob that unhooked the rope connecting me to the tow-plane and banked my sailplane toward the field. It was the first time I had ever felt truly alone and free. Most of my friends got that feeling in cars, but for my money being a thousand feet up in a sailplane beat that thrill a thousand times over. Continue reading this excerpt.

Chapter 24 “The Return”

Listen to Author Eben Alexander Read this Excerpt:

Bond envisioned his same old Dad waking up. That I would look around, take it all in, and just need a little catching up on what had happened before resuming my role as the dad he had always known.

He soon discovered, however, that it wasn’t going to be quite that easy. Doctor Wade cautioned Bond about two things: first, he shouldn’t count on my remembering anything I was saying at this time. This was because the process of memory takes a lot of brain-power, and my brain wasn’t sufficiently recovered to be performing at anything like that level yet. Second, he shouldn’t worry inordinately about what I said during these early days, because a lot of it was going to sound pretty crazy.

He proved right on both counts.

That first morning back, Bond proudly showed me the drawing he and Eben IV had made of my white blood cells attacking the E. coli bacteria. Continue reading this excerpt.

Copyright © 2012 by Eben Alexander. Reprinted by permission of Simon & Schuster, Inc, NY.

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