Experience description:

The following testimonials have been written by Alain, a French professor of mathematics and postgraduate doctorate in probabilities, who has been retired since 2010.

The early 1970s was, for me, particularly rich in OBE, following a fast of several days as recommended in the method of vegetarian Herbert Shelton that I practiced for 2 years.
I want to clarify that I do not recommend this method at all, fasts over 24 hours may have not only adverse effects on physical health but also on mental balance.
Given what follows, I think I must say that I considered myself agnostic before this fast and the experiences that followed.
During the first OBE, after experiencing a state of catalepsy then a feeling of vibration throughout the body and spinning, I found myself several times in the room, fully aware that I was not in my physical body; but, after a few moments when I felt a vitality and an almost childish joy, I reintegrated my body with a tingling all over its surface.
Sometimes I wondered what I was doing there, out of my body, sensing that there were other possibilities but not knowing which ones.
The sense of touch was particularly important.
Here are two examples
- during one of the first "outings", I stooped down to touch the carpet of the room and I still have the memory of the sensation of its softness adding to the observation of its golden yellow color as when she had just been asked (whereas in physical reality she was already a little worn).
- having made a small injury to the left tibia a few days before, I remember, during an OBE, having the idea to touch my shin to find out what it was in this particular state and felt the presence of a crust but what is curious is that I have no corresponding visual memory.

I would like to recount the experience for which I still feel, more than 40 years later, a strong emotion by reminding me.
I began to feel that I was at the ceiling, in the darkness, with the feeling of being shaken by several beings, as if they wanted to "cleanse" me. The impression was not very pleasant but it did not scare me because I felt kindness in these beings that I felt like men of mature age.
Then having gone from "hands" to "hands", I heard a collective "ah" of satisfaction and felt sucked up. I will not use the term (so much used now) as "tunnel" because usually a tunnel is not vertical. I would rather say it was a fairly narrow duct filled with a cottony and warm material. I had, at the moment when I lived this experience, the thought that I was in a mill. I was no longer in the dark, but in a whitish light. I felt very peaceful and confident. This crossing made me have the effect of lasting about ten seconds but I felt as time was much longer. Then, I found myself in the "open air" and on the "dry land". I recognized the Notre-Dame cathedral in Paris, but the forecourt seemed smaller than the current square. There were, on the North side, where the current Hôtel Dieu is, small huts like in a carnival, but I cannot describe them because my attention was immediately attracted by the arrival, by the south of the forecourt, of my wife who welcomed me with great joy, followed by her mother. Then my eyes rose to the sky which was deep blue (as is the case in a clear sky a little before sunrise) and what I saw and felt then remains etched in me with a deep emotion.
A group of dozens of stars, like a squadron in "tight formation" (as they say in the aviation), were moving slowly, pouring a love like I had never felt. If I refer to the setting in which I was located, I can say that they moved from East to West, above the Seine (but looking up at the sky, I did not think to see if the Seine was there). These stars did not twinkle but shone like the planets. Smaller than Venus or Jupiter to the naked eye, it was closer to Mars but silvery and not orange like Mars. Their movement was not uniform but proceeded by successive impulses. I would compare this to the progress of a group of swimmers peacefully using the breaststroke with a slight acceleration as the arms and legs stretch.
I asked my wife, "What is it?"
She and especially my mother-in-law gently mocked me, finding it odd that I did not know it.
I then understood that they were beings of a plane higher than the one where we were who "went about their business", while spreading their love on the plane of the "below", as flowers exhale their perfume.
Then my mother-in-law told me that she was going to make me a carrot calf, and as I said above, I was a vegetarian for two years and I felt that if I wanted to stay a little on this plan, I should have no critical thought in relation to this invitation.
I then entered Notre-Dame through the left door and was able to take a few steps down the aisle before quickly falling back into my physical body.

The following happened in our "everyday world": a few moments after the end of this experience, I got up. It must have been five o'clock in the morning. The sky was a blue very similar to my experience but ... without moving stars.
Then, tears of emotion flowed and a thought came to me:
"If you live your life as best you can, you can find this" place "..."
How many times in the next 42 years did I hope to see these stars again during my OBE, but so far this has never happened again!
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I did not write it in this testimony, written in 2013, but I came back from this "trip" with the impression that I was in front of Notre-Dame as it was in the Middle Ages.
As I think about it now, I could have gone to a large library to consult documents and check that without waiting for 48 years. But I did not do this.
I did not even get the idea to search the Internet from the moment it was possible and yet, this question has always remained in a corner of my memory.
It is only at the end of 2017 that I obtained an image of the Parvis of Notre-Dame in the Middle Ages.
The legend of this photo is: "On this bird's-eye view, it is possible to discover the Parvis of Notre-Dame de Paris in the Middle Ages, narrower than today, it hosted parties and markets."

N.B. This image reached me without doing research. I wrote to the Society from where it came to ask permission to put it on a Facebook post. I received a positive answer very quickly. This is how I learned that it was extracted from a DVD dedicated to Paris Medieval and its creator was kind enough to give me this permission, provided to add the address of the site. The caption was written by the person who, without permission, extracted this photo, as well as others, but still left the original reference.
The creator of the DVD, who spent a lot of time researching libraries, confirmed the validity of what I had perceived in a "dream" 48 years before.
This image is at the end of the testimony.
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Here is an experiment dating from the end of the year 1985.
It is in related with a couple of friends of my parents, Alice and Dominique who were 70 years old.
Dominique calls us one morning to ask us to come as soon as possible because his wife was dead in the night.
My parents, my parents-in-laws, my wife and I were at his house in the next hour and found him weeping.
I went to pray in the room, near Alice's body.
I had the impression that my jaw was twisting to the right and as soon as I realized that this was what Alice had experienced (with anguish being unable to call her husband for help). ), the feeling faded.
We had seen Alice and Dominique at my parents-in-law a week before and Alice, apparently healthy, had spoken to me like she had never done, telling me that she was not afraid of death but suffering.
She also told me that day that she loved "little Thérèse" (St. Therese of Lisieux).
The night after her death, I heard Alice's voice sound like a radio going off sharply. She said, "she's sad Alice."
I told her mentally: "You have to go up, little Therese is up there".
She said, "No, I'm waiting for my husband."

The next night, I felt "sucked up", and found myself in Alice's presence in my parents-in-laws' garden (or rather in her portrayal of "the other world").
It must be said that, four years ago, we had a dispute with Dominique and Alice and we stayed several months without talking to us; then we had returned but without going back on the facts. On the plane where we were, I felt the need to ask her forgiveness and she replied: "No it's me ..."
Then my eyes dipped into her eyes.
They were much blue and bigger than in her physical body.
I then experienced with intense emotion what could be a mutual forgiveness in the spiritual world and deeply understood the expression that the eyes are the mirror of the soul.
I felt that I would soon be reinstated in my physical body.
At that moment, she showed me a silver watch she wore on her wrist and said, "It's my husband who gave it to me".
My last thought before leaving this plan was: "Where she is now, this watch is not going to serve her much ..."

The next day, although my wife is reluctant to listen to parapsychological experiences (not because she is skeptical but because it scares her a bit), I told her what I had just experienced. She was very impressed because, some time before her death, Alice had shown her the last gift from her husband: a silver watch ...
I remember that she made this reflection: "So, it's true, one can think without one's brain".
Two months later, having invited Dominique for Christmas, I tried to tell him about the experience I had with his wife, but I quickly realized that he would be deaf to this testimony.
At the end of January 1986, we learned that, having stopped taking his treatment for the heart, Dominique had gone to join his wife.
It is then that, even if the time does not take place in the other world as in this one, the sentence: "No, I wait for my husband" took much meaning..

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At the end of 2017, I "received" new elements likely to "validate" three experiences that I lived more or less long ago and that we can qualify as parapsychological, or even spiritual for at least the one of them, which you have already read above, concerning Notre Dame of Paris.
I started sharing into three posts, for my Facebook French speaking friends and two "special" groups in these areas and these posts were well received.
As the concomitance of the appearance of these three elements may have a more general meaning than I originally thought and that some other Internet users might be interested, I decided to make a public, sharing it in French, on the 01.30.18.
Then, I decided to translate it into English

Here are the two others elements.
The first one concerns a difficult subject, since it is about my father's suicide, in 2003, at the age of 81 years.
Knowing how much my father preferred discretion, I hesitated to make a public sharing, but, considering the new element described below, I do it as a tribute to his memory, even if, from "his lifetime", he did not like the "paranormal".

At the end of 2017, I found, folded and slipped into a pocket of a folder, a sheet dated from August 1996, where just after waking up after a "dream", I had very rough sketched the plan of a building which, in my dream, was called "Integration Center", with on the right side a street that I named, according to the memory of my dream, "rue de la Rapée" and I was there indicated a subway station at the bottom right. I put this sheet away without thinking about it again.
Looking at this sheet, 21 years and a half later, I thought of the Forensic Institute (Paris 12th) which is located on the Quai de la Rapée.
I went to see on the internet and was quite impressed because the shape of the building is quite close. There is no subway station where I indicated but a subway line goes well at this place.
It turns out that in August 1996 my father had a pulmonary embolism that almost won. He battled with courage, suffered 3 bypasses and a bowel surgery for cancer, but in 2003, the insulin treatment for diabetes he had just started was the last straw. too much and he committed suicide.

And so it was at the Forensic Institute that we witnessed the laying of seals on his coffin, at 11:11 ("mirror hour" on which my eyes were often asked, for years) and that we left to Cemetery.
Some time before his departure, he told me: "I do not believe in all those things you talk about with your mother". I looked at him "in the face" and said gently: "You'll see daddy". He looked at me without saying anything, but I felt that it had caught him ...
A month after his death, I had a "dream" where I saw him in great shape. He told me, with great firmness: "if you want to see me again, you do not ask me anything".
I realized that he should not be asked about his suicide. But I still asked him a question about the furniture that a cook (to whom we handed the keys) was installing in the small secondary home of my parents. He replied with his smile a little malicious: "they are a little high". (my father was a cabinetmaker)
And indeed, my wife found that the furniture is too high ...
In the following years, my mother told me about several phenomena of moving objects in his apartment.
P.S. It's strange, but since I gave this testimony on Facebook, I paid more attention to the name given, in my "dream", to this medico-legal institute:
"Integration Center". Does not this mean that physical death permits the integration of consciousness on other levels of existence?
I say that when I put quotation marks to the word "dream", it is because I consider that when a "dream", even very old, remains engraved in our memory with a sharpness stronger than many of our memories of the world. the state of wakefulness, it is indeed an experience that can be described as parapsychological, sometimes even spiritual (in the sense given to the word "dream" in ancient times

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Here is the new element of the second experience.
I'm going to have to be very imprecise because it's about a fairly well-known person whose identity I cannot afford to give.
I do not know if the "dream" took place before or after hearing about this person for the first time, and moreover, I only made the connection between the two facts recently.
In any case, both happened in the early 2000s.
At that time, I had a "dream" intense enough that I take note immediately after waking.
I found myself in a cemetery but there was nothing morbid.
I felt good. There was the intense brightness of a sunny morning and I knew in what region of France I was.
As soon as I woke up, I noted down the name of the city where the cemetery was located, as I had memorized it, and sketched the drawing of a wrought iron gate that I had seen there.
Regarding the person in question, I remember going on the Internet, when I was told about him, to read his biography and it is not impossible that I could read the name of the city where he is buried, but in my memory, this is not the case.
Recently, I had the idea to reread his biography.
I discovered the name of the city where this person is buried.
It suddenly reminded me of the name I wrote on this sheet, because although the exact name is longer, it sounded quite the same.
On the Internet, I was able to find a photo of this person's grave and was surprised to see, at the head of the tomb, a wrought iron gate, corresponding to that of my "dream", such as that is engraved in my memory, even if it is a pity that I cannot find this sheet anymore.

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