It was about 1990. Leaving the body was becoming familiar to me, both at night during sleep and while awake during meditation.
I wanted to see where dead people go and how they live. I waited for an evening when I felt things were internally suitable for leaving the body.
I laid down and breathed in the way that I had learnt condenses the conscious and facilitates its extrication from the body via the crown centre.
The escort volunteered assistance as I had no idea where to go or how to get there.
We flew at speed through the layers, then traversed a layer of green landscape about one hundred feet above the ground. Below and ahead of me I could see a row of terrace houses with long narrow backyards and low paling fences.
We slowed our approach and stopped a short distance from the backyard of the nearest house in which a man was working in a vegetable garden. The escort indicated that I was visible to the gardener and that I may proceed ahead.
I approached the fence and exchanged a casual greeting with the gardener and some small talk about his garden.
Then I asked him, “So what’s life like after death?”
He looked at me incredulously and said, “There is no life after death”.
It was clear that he thought I was a nut and he did not want to talk with me anymore.
I was somewhat astonished. Here was a man in his afterlife telling me that there is no life after death.
I departed the scene with the escort and returned to my body to write down the event.