Time Doesn’t Exist—At Least Not the Way We Think
What If Everything Is Happening All at Once?
One of the most fascinating realizations from my NDE was that time, as we experience it here, doesn’t exist in the same way beyond this life. The moment my experience began, I had no concept of time. I didn’t think about it, I didn’t feel it passing, and most importantly—I didn’t care. Time wasn’t a factor in anything I was experiencing. It simply wasn’t there.
Waking Up Without Time
Interestingly, even when I returned to my body, time still didn’t make sense to me. About a month into my coma, I briefly woke up, and doctors performed the clock test to check for cognitive function. They drew a circle and asked me to place the numbers on it backward. I stared at the paper, not out of confusion about the task, but because I genuinely had no idea what a clock was.
"What is a clock?" I asked.
They explained, “It’s what we use to tell time.”
"What is time?" I responded. "There is no time."
And just like that, I drifted back into unconsciousness for a few more weeks.
When I fully woke up, I still had no concept of how long I had been gone. I didn’t know I had been unconscious for two months. I didn’t even know where I was at first. Time didn’t feel missing—it just wasn’t something I was aware of.
As I recovered, time was slowly reintroduced to me, but only in pieces. I didn’t naturally think in terms of day or night. The hospital staff had to explain things to me—what day it was, how long I had been there, and what had happened to me. Even then, it didn’t feel real. It wasn’t until I saw myself in the mirror—hair grown out, a hundred pounds lighter—that the shock of time hit me. I looked different, but I didn’t feel different.
Time was something I had to relearn.
The Illusion of Linear Time
After my NDE, I started reflecting on time itself. I realized something strange: I couldn’t put my experience into a timeline.
Even now, if I try to tell you what happened first, second, or last, I can’t. The only thing that feels like a "beginning" is suddenly being in the presence of the three beings in the vast, beautiful night sky. That’s the only moment I can pinpoint. After that? Everything happened at once. It wasn’t linear. It wasn’t in order. It just was.
That’s because outside of this physical world, time is not a straight line. It’s not something we move through—it’s something we experience all at once.
Time Only Matters If You Make It Matter
It wasn’t until I left the hospital that time started to feel real again. Not because I suddenly understood it, but because I was forced to live by it.
- Morning, noon, and night became real again because I was expected to follow a schedule.
- I had physical therapy appointments, home healthcare visits, things that put me back into a timed reality.
- I got a job months later, and working a 9-to-5 schedule made me hyper-aware of time again.
But something still felt off. I realized that time only dragged when I was doing something I didn’t love. Sitting in a job watching the clock? Time felt long and heavy. But when I was doing something I loved—writing, speaking, creating, time vanished.
And I wasn’t the only one who noticed this. I once heard a spiritual teacher say:
"When you’re doing something you love and lose track of time, you don’t age in those moments."
I believe that. When we stop watching the clock, when we stop stressing about our age, when we stop living by deadlines—we stop being controlled by time.
What Spirits Have Taught Me About Time
Since my NDE, I’ve spoken with many spirits, and one of the biggest questions people ask me is:
"Do spirits know what time it is?"
The answer? Sort of.
When I connect with those on the other side, they seem to be aware of the present moment, but they don’t experience time the way we do. I’ve asked them directly, and the response I get is something like:
"I know where I am right now."
That’s it. No mention of years, hours, or even days—just a sense of being in the now.
Even when spirits give me evidence of their past life, they don’t describe time in a way that makes sense to us. They show me memories, and I can only guess the timeframe based on clothing styles, old cars, or specific details that match an era. Sometimes, they’ll drop an exact date into my mind, but that’s rare.
The past, present, and future aren’t separate to them—it’s all happening at once.
Time Doesn’t Define You—Unless You Let It
One of the biggest traps we fall into as humans is obsessing over time.
- "I need to accomplish this by the time I’m 40."
- "I’m too old to start over."
- "I don’t have enough time to do what I want."
None of that actually matters.
If you stop putting a timestamp on everything, life flows a lot easier. Stop thinking time is running out and start realizing you are eternal.
Because here’s the truth:
You are never running out of time. You’re just shifting your focus from one experience to another.
Final Thought
Time is an illusion we use to organize our lives, but it doesn’t define who we are or where we’re going.
Everything that has ever happened is still happening.
Everything that will happen has already happened.
The only thing that changes is the scenery.
And once you stop worrying about time—you’ll realize you were never bound by it in the first place.