You are non-physical inside of the virtual reality, which is your body.
So your consciousness is a non-physical thing.
All the choices, all the memory, all the thoughts, all the processing goes on in consciousness, not in the brain.
There really is no brain.
The brain is not even rendered. unless somebody opens a skull and has to look at it.
We are playing a character.
That character is your physical body.
That's the avatar.
This man is Thomas Campbell, a PhD physicist who claims to have cracked the code of reality and what happens after death.
What you're about to hear next flips everything you think you know about death, life and even this very moment.
Thomas Campbell calls his model My Big Toe, a theory of everything that doesn't start with particles or space, but with consciousness itself.
According to this theory, reality isn't something outside of you.
It's something rendered for you.
You're not a brain in a skull.
You're a stream of awareness, experiencing this environment through a temporary interface, the body.
In this model, you're a unit of consciousness.
Basically, an aware observer that takes in information and makes choices.
The physical world is just one part of a bigger system.
And death?
It's not the end.
It's just logging out of this simulation.
When you die, you become aware in another virtual reality.
So your body dies and you wake up.
You know, you're in a different place.
This means that death is not the end.
Campbell describes the physical universe as a multiplayer digital simulation designed to feed experiences to consciousness units.
The rules, like physics, are just constraints.
They keep the simulation coherent.
When your avatar dies, the simulation doesn't crash.
It continues.
And so do you.
This theory also explains near-death experiences. out-of-body phenomena, and altered states.
These are not hallucinations.
They're moments when the data stream shifts or when consciousness accesses other parts of the system.
And it's not just theory.
Campbell spent years running controlled experiments in altered states.
What he found was consistent, repeatable, and aligned with other independent explorers.
So if you don't die and your consciousness continues, where does it go?
We'll get to that, but before we explore what happens after death, we need to understand what this system actually is, how it works, how it generates your reality and how physics, time and space are just part of the interface.
So let's look at the system itself.
In My Big Toe, Campbell describes this environment as the Larger Consciousness System, or LCS.
You, me, and everyone else, we're all part of it.
We're not separate observers dropped into a world.
We're participants inside a multi-level reality engine designed to feed us experience.
But this system doesn't feed you everything all at once.
It works efficiently, just like a game engine only renders what the player sees.
The LCS renders reality on demand.
When you look, it loads.
When you don't, it's just potential data.
Big Universe is a virtual.
It's just computed.
If it's just computed, when we look out at all those little stars that are just little dots of light, that's what's being computed to us.
It's a dot of light.
We look out there, we look away, we go to sleep.
We're not getting that data anymore.
It's gone.
You only compute what a player's looking at.
Right.
Well, that's the way it works.
That's efficient.
When you interact with the system, by making choices, by responding to others, you're sending data.
Your decisions create patterns.
Those patterns feed back into the system.
It tracks your intent, your awareness, your evolution.
Each individual in this model is a unit of consciousness, autonomous self-aware and temporarily connected to an avatar within this environment.
The system doesn't control you, it provides scenarios.
You decide how to respond.
And what happens when the avatar dies?
The connection ends, the data stream stops, but your consciousness doesn't vanish.
It returns to a broader level of the system and eventually it re-engages, perhaps in a new scenario, a new body, a new experience set.
But this isn't random reincarnation.
It's not recycling.
It's iterative learning.
Just like a player progressing through levels, refining their skills with each run.
And here's where it gets even more interesting.
This system, the LCS, is not physical.
It doesn't exist in space.
It's informational.
Which means the world around you might not be what you think it is.
The system you're in doesn't produce reality the way we think.
What you see, hear, and touch is not the source.
It's the output.
In this model, reality is an interface.
Just like a screen on your phone shows you icons instead of code.
This environment presents space, time and matter as usable representations.
They're functional, they're meaningful, but they're not fundamental.
What's underneath isn't physical, it's informational.
A field of probabilities that only becomes specific when required.
This is why, in quantum physics, particles don't seem to exist in one state until measured.
It's not because something's broken, it's because that's how rendering works.
When a conscious observer looks, the system produces a result.
When no one's observing, it remains undefined, just stored as potential data.
Another way you create your reality is by your interactions.
For example, if you are a user of people hard to get along with mean-spirited, then what you create is a world where people will try to avoid you, where you won't be liked, you won't be invited and you won't be welcome.
And you create this reaction to yourself because of your choices, your actions.
This model also explains time.
Time isn't a universal clock ticking outside of you.
It's local to the environment.
It allows for change, memory, and causality.
But it's part of the interface.
You experience it because it's necessary for the type of learning happening here.
The same goes for space.
You see separation, distance, and position, but it's only there to structure interaction.
The system creates these conditions to allow meaningful experience between individual observers.
Everything around you behaves according to rulesets, what we call physics.
But these rules don't exist because particles do.
The particles exist because the rules define how the interface should behave.
Nothing is arbitrary.
When something appears stable, it's because the system is following consistent logic.
When something appears random, it's because the outcome was selected from a range of possibilities based on current conditions and input.
This is not speculation.
It's consistent with how probabilistic systems behave in any simulation.
You don't need to believe it.
You only need to look at the evidence, starting with how the physical world already behaves like a rendered experience.
Once you see it this way, the question changes.
It's no longer, is this real?
It's, what is this real for?
If everything around you behaves like an interface structured responsive, rule-based then it makes sense to ask what's driving it.
The answer isn't matter.
It's consciousness.
And not just as an observer, but as an active participant.
The system you're in doesn't just respond to your actions, it responds to your intent.
Every thought, every decision, every emotional reaction sends data into the system.
Not just what you do, but why you do it.
The system records patterns, tracks consistency, and responds accordingly.
In this framework, consciousness isn't passive.
It shapes reality through interaction.
It learns by making choices, experiencing the consequences, and adjusting behavior.
Over time, that adjustment forms a feedback loop, an ongoing process between the observer and the environment is the way this virtual reality works.
Is that your intent modifies future probability?
So what is likely to happen in the future?
Your intent can make it more likely or less likely.
You have that ability to modify future probability.
Intent is key.
It's the difference between manipulation and honesty.
Between acting from fear or acting from compassion.
Two identical actions can produce entirely different outcomes, depending on the underlying motivation.
This feedback mechanism isn't moral in a religious sense.
It's functional.
The system uses your choices to guide your evolution.
Actions that reduce internal conflict, promote cooperation, and reflect awareness are reinforced.
Those that increase confusion, fear, or separation lead to friction.
This is why experiences often repeat.
When patterns don't change, the system reintroduces similar conditions.
Not to punish, but to offer another chance to respond differently.
In this way, life becomes a kind of training.
Not in the sense of testing you, but refining you.
The world around you adapts.
Not because it has emotions or judgment, but because it's designed to reflect your progression back to you.
And because all consciousness units are connected within the larger system, your choices don't affect only you.
The ripple goes outward.
Your intent influences others, and theirs influences you.
Free will isn't just a human trait.
It's the foundation that holds the entire structure together.
Without it, the system wouldn't evolve.
There would be no learning, no adaptation, no change.
In this model, every consciousness unit must be able to choose.
That's what creates data.
That's what generates growth.
Each moment presents a set of possibilities.
Some are constructive, others destructive.
You decide which direction to take.
That decision, the one made in real time, under pressure, in uncertainty, is what matters most.
Not because someone is judging it, but because it shows who you are.
So awareness and time and free will all need each other to exist.
They're all codependent with real time.
If there's no time, nothing changes.
If there's no change, there are no choices.
And the awareness is a dead end.
It never changes.
It's like looking at one photograph and never seeing anything else but that photograph ever.
Choice only exists when outcomes are uncertain.
That's why challenges appear.
That's why the rules allow for mistakes.
Without risk, there's no learning.
And without freedom, there's no responsibility.
This doesn't mean you control everything.
You don't choose what happens to you, but you always choose how you respond.
That response is recorded.
The system reads your pattern and adjusts your path.
In extreme conditions, conflict, loss, fear, the system pays close attention.
These are the moments where evolution happens fastest.
Not because they're dramatic, but because they demand presence.
They reveal whether your choices are reactive or conscious.
Free will also explains why experiences can't be standardized.
No two people see the same event the same way.
Each observer interprets reality through their own lens, and every lens is shaped by previous choices.
This is why the system doesn't interfere.
It provides opportunities, not outcomes.
It doesn't protect you from difficulty, but it makes sure you always have a way to act.
The real measure isn't what you go through, it's what you do with it.
And every choice becomes part of a larger pattern that eventually finds its way back to you.
You're always interacting with the system, even when you think nothing is happening.
Every choice you make sends a signal into the system, and that signal doesn't disappear.
It returns, shaped, delayed, sometimes magnified, but always matched to what you've put in.
This is the feedback loop.
The system doesn't need to reward or punish.
It only needs to reflect.
When your choices align with growth, awareness, honesty, care, the system provides stability.
When your choices create confusion, conflict or fear, the system adjusts to show you the effects of that.
Not to teach you a lesson, but to help you see yourself more clearly.
This is why certain patterns repeat.
The same kind of relationship.
The same argument.
The same frustration, again and again.
It's not bad luck.
It's a signal that something inside you hasn't changed.
The system gives you another chance to respond differently.
You can have good relationship with them if you just let them be and stop judging them according to how you think they should be.
Now, we get upset about what they should and shouldn't have.
That's us judging them according to our reality and the way we feel.
You just have a lot of people all fussing and fighting and fuming with each other all the time because they just don't understand reality and how it, how it works, and that we're all different.
We need to just accept that this feedback doesn't always come immediately.
It's not karma in a cosmic sense.
It's dynamic, contextual and precise.
Sometimes you'll see the effect within minutes, other times it might take years, but the loop is always active.
The important part is how you interpret it.
The system doesn't send messages in language.
It speaks through experience.
If you're paying attention, you can feel the feedback.
You'll recognize the loop when it returns.
And in that moment, you'll have a choice to act from the same place or shift.
Even your internal world, your emotions, thoughts, and impulses are part of the loop.
When something triggers you, that's data.
The system is showing you where your reactions are still automatic, still unresolved.
You can't escape the loop, but you can work with it.
That's the difference between repeating cycles and evolving through them.
The system isn't testing you, it's responding to you.
This feedback structure keeps everything personal, adaptive, and relevant.
No experience is wasted.
Nothing is random.
You are always in conversation with something bigger than yourself, even when it feels silent.
And eventually, when this session ends, that loop doesn't stop.
It just becomes even more precise.
But if all of this seems too abstract, there's something else you should know.
Some of the strongest evidence for this model comes not from mysticism, but from physics itself.
The moment your avatar stops functioning, your data stream ends, but the observer, the conscious unit, remains active.
What happens next isn't a mystery inside this model.
It's a defined process, part of the system itself.
When physical life ends, the connection to this environment is closed.
What continues is not the memory of the life you lived, but the consciousness that experienced it.
That consciousness returns to a different level of the system, where the experience is processed.
It's not a judgment, and there's no external punishment or reward.
It's a review.
A detailed integration of everything you've just gone through.
How you treated others.
How you reacted under pressure.
The quality of your choices.
Not in terms of good or bad, but in terms of growth.
The system uses that data to help you evolve.
The information becomes part of your profile as a conscious entity.
You don't lose your identity, but you no longer identify with the avatar.
That life is now complete.
It's lessons recorded.
What actually has happened here is that when you die, that avatar is dead.
The consciousness is not dead.
The consciousness is alive in a new reality frame.
That avatar is what we call a free will awareness unit, with only the quality that logs on for the next incarnation.
Eventually, you enter a new scenario, not randomly, but based on what you need next.
A new experience packet, a new set of conditions designed to challenge, stretch, or stabilize you.
The system doesn't recycle, you re-engage.
This continuity explains why some people report memories, intuitions or deep emotional imprints that seem to come from somewhere else.
Not all of it is imagination.
In this model, the thread of consciousness isn't broken between lifetimes.
It simply shifts focus.
The idea of finality dissolves.
Death becomes a reorganization of perspective.
You don't take everything with you, but you take what mattered.
That's why, inside this framework, how you live and how you die are connected.
Not through fear, but through function.
Every experience, including death, serves a purpose.
And for those who wonder if any of this is real, there's one way to find out.
Direct experience.
Because parts of this system can be accessed without dying.
The idea that consciousness continues after death might seem impossible until you look at how the physical world already behaves.
Because some of the strangest discoveries in modern physics match the behavior you'd expect in a simulated reality.
At the quantum level, particles don't have fixed properties until they're observed.
Until then, they exist as probabilities.
This isn't a theory, it's been tested in thousands of experiments.
Electrons, photons, even atoms behave like clouds of potential until someone measures them.
That's exactly how a rendering engine works.
It doesn't load an object until the player looks at it.
It doesn't calculate unnecessary detail in areas the player can't see.
The system stays efficient by generating only what's needed, when it's needed.
When a guy gets out his telescope, it has to compute what he sees.
Random draw.
That's what he sees.
Good.
Stop doing it.
Turn off his telescope.
Nobody's looking at that anymore.
Then you don't have to compute it anymore.
So it's not a big waste of anything.
It's a virtual reality.
It only computes what's functional.
This matches the observer effect.
The system responds to where conscious focus goes.
When you observe, it renders.
Before that, it remains a field of possibilities waiting to become experience.
Even space and time behave strangely when you look closely.
In relativity, time slows depending on speed or gravity.
Space bends.
Events shift depending on the frame of reference.
These dynamics suggest something deeper than static structure.
This kind of behavior is exactly what you'd expect from a system designed to adapt to conscious interaction.
Information theory also points in the same direction.
Reality behaves like structured data.
At its smallest scales, it's not made of objects.
It's made of relationships, values, and flows.
Matter, energy, and even motion can be reduced to bits of information.
That shouldn't happen in a purely physical world, but in an information-based system it makes perfect sense.
It shows up in personal experience too.
Unusual patterns.
Synchronicities.
States of awareness that defy linear time.
There are moments when reality feels responsive.
According to this model, it is.
And you don't need to guess.
You can test it.
You can go beyond theory and start exploring the system directly from inside.
Sometimes in dreams or deep altered states, you catch a flash of something strange.
A life that could have been yours.
A place you've never seen, but feels familiar.
A memory that doesn't belong to this version of you.
In this model, those aren't just tricks of the mind.
They're access points.
The system stores far more than what you live.
It calculates every possible outcome of every decision you could make.
What you experience is only one of those paths.
The others remain, unplayed but not erased.
These unused branches are part of what Campbell calls the system's probability space.
They're not running in parallel like science fiction timelines, but they are structured, stored and, in some cases, accessible.
You've got individual units of consciousness all making choices, learning from those choices to become love.
As each choice is a good choice, then the entropy lowers a little bit.
But because that consciousness is a part of the system, the whole system's entropy is lowered a little bit.
One of its ways of lowering its own entropy is through us.
And it has to compute a whole lot of stuff for nine billion people.
It's a big game.
It's a big multiplayer game.
This allows for something remarkable.
In certain non-physical states lucid dreams, OBE sessions, deep meditation.
You may be shown one of these alternate versions, not for entertainment, but as feedback.
A different you, shaped by different decisions, not to make you regret, but to help you understand.
People often return from these states with the sense that those versions were just as real.
Not ghost images, but entire lives, self-contained and emotionally complete.
This mechanism adds another layer to the feedback loop.
It's not just cause and effect, it's comparison.
By seeing what might have been, the current version of you gains perspective.
The learning becomes richer, faster, deeper.
It also reinforces the importance of choice.
Because while only one path becomes active, the system acknowledges them all.
And in that space of possibilities, who you become is not predetermined.
It's earned, one decision at a time.
The idea that multiple versions of your life exist in potential isn't meant to confuse.
It's meant to clarify.
Everything you didn't choose still teaches you something.
And that brings us to the final insight.
If even your unchosen paths are meaningful, then your role in this system might be far greater than you think.
If reality really works this way, if everything is driven by consciousness, shaped by choice and stored in some larger system, then what we call life is just one layer of something much bigger.
Not bigger in a mystical sense, just wider, deeper, more flexible than it seems.
And that makes death less of a wall, and more of a doorway.
The end of one session, a return to the place where all the data goes, where it's processed, understood and eventually used to prepare the next experience.
This also means that right now, even as you're watching this, you're already inside that system, not outside of it.
You're not separate.
You're in the middle of the thing, and your awareness is the interface.
You don't need to wait until the end to find out if it's real.
There are ways to test it.
Small things.
Attention.
Intention.
Stillness.
Exploring altered states.
Not to escape, but to observe.
Quietly.
Without expectations.
Sometimes the system responds clearly.
Sometimes it doesn't.
But that's part of the learning.
It's not a shortcut.
It's a different kind of participation.
You won't get all the answers at once.
That's not the point.
But you may notice patterns.
A kind of quiet feedback.
Life becoming more responsive.
Certain things clicking into place.
And slowly the idea that this world is a training ground starts to feel less like a theory and more like something you've always suspected.
You don't have to go anywhere to begin.
You're already in it.
Every moment is part of the system and maybe, just maybe, this version of reality is just the surface.
Because if consciousness is the real source behind it all, then the most important thing you can do isn't to figure it out, it's to experience it with awareness.
In 2009, a world-renowned scientist published a theory so radical it claimed Everything that you see out there, every particle, depends on the observer for their very properties.
And it turns out that life and consciousness are absolutely essential to reality.
So that it's clear that without an observer you could not actually have existence, you could not have reality.
His name is Dr. Robert Lanza.
Robert Lanza was called by the New York Times one of the three most important scientists alive today.
Just to give you an idea of the caliber of our next presenter.
He cloned endangered animals, advanced stem cell science and gained global recognition, until he said something that made science go quiet.
So I've come to conclusions that would shock many of my colleagues and predecessors.
Space and time are tools of our mind.
Experiment after experiment shows that not a single particle out there exists with real properties until it's observed.
Now pay attention, because what you're about to hear challenges the most basic thing you believe about reality.
He claims that everything about the universe is backwards.
Consciousness doesn't come from the brain.
The brain, and everything in space and time, comes from consciousness.
Stay with me, because this isn't science fiction.
It's grounded in quantum mechanics, biology, and decades of research.
Let's break this down.
Imagine you're looking at a tree.
You assume it's just there, whether or not you're looking at it.
That's how we've been taught to see the world.
But quantum experiments, like the famous double slit experiment, suggest something strange.
Until a conscious observer checks, particles don't have defined positions.
They exist in a state of probability.
In other words, they're not real until you observe them.
So what does that mean?
It means the universe might not exist without you.
And that flips everything upside down.
This is where things start to shift.
The idea that life doesn't exist within the universe, the universe exists within life.
Consciousness isn't some side effect of atoms, it's the very fabric holding it all together.
So take the undeniable logic that your kitchen is always present.
You think that its contents assume its familiar shapes and colors whether or not you're in it.
But consider the shapes, colors and forms known as your kitchen are seen because the particles of light from the overhead bulb bounce off the various objects and then interact with your brain through a complex set of retinal and neural intermediates.
But on its own light doesn't have any color, nor any brightness, nor any visual characteristics at all.
It's merely an electromagnetic phenomenon.
So you might think that the kitchen was there in your absence, but unquestionably, the reality is that nothing remotely resembling what you perceive as your kitchen could possibly be there without your consciousness interacting with it.
Quantum physics comes at it from a much harder angle and it arrives at the same conclusion.
So at night, you click your lights off and you leave for the bedroom.
And of course the kitchen is there unseen all through the night, right?
So, in fact, the refrigerator, it turns out, the stove and everything in your kitchen are composed of a shivering swarm of energy.
And the results of quantum physics, such as the two-hole experiment and others, tell us that not a single one of those particles in any of those objects actually exists in a definite space until you observe them.
Rather, they exist in a range of probabilities, waves of probability.
So outside of that fact, there's really nothing there.
They're just statistical probabilities of particles existing in certain locations.
So if they aren't being observed, they can't be thought of as having any real existence, either duration or position in space.
So it's only in the presence of the observer that is, when you go back and get a drink of water that the mind actually sets the scaffolding of these particles in place.
Robert Lanza isn't a random voice from the internet.
He's been named among Time Magazine's 100 Most Influential People.
He's a pioneer in cloning endangered species, helping advance stem cell therapies, and has published in prestigious journals like Nature and The Lancet.
But his most controversial claim?
That death as we understand it doesn't actually exist.
And if that's true, then when your body stops working, your awareness doesn't disappear.
It shifts.
And that's where things get even more unbelievable.
Lanza's perspective is simple, but radical.
Consciousness doesn't end when your body dies.
Instead, it continues outside of space and time, because it was never confined to the brain in the first place.
To understand this, we need to look at what physics has been telling us for over a century.
In Einstein's theory of relativity, time is not a fixed arrow.
Past, present, and future exist simultaneously.
Your death, in that sense, is just a coordinate in a much bigger structure.
From a timeless perspective, there is no true before or after.
Quantum physics goes even further.
The observer effect shows that particles behave differently when being watched.
It's as if consciousness itself activates reality.
So if consciousness isn't produced by matter, but instead shapes it, then where does it go when the body shuts down?
Here's where it gets fascinating.
Lanza explains that what we call death is simply the end of a biological function, not the end of awareness.
Your experience doesn't stop, it just detaches from the physical structure.
Just like a TV signal continues even after the receiver breaks.
And this idea isn't new.
Philosophers like Immanuel Kant and modern physicists like John Wheeler have said similar things.
That space and time are tools of the mind, not external realities.
According to Lanza, reality is a process that involves your consciousness at every level.
Even time and space are constructs your mind uses to organize information, and when the body dies, those tools fall away.
But you don't.
Instead of fading into nothing, your awareness shifts into another framework, one not bound by the rules we think are universal.
And before you dismiss that as spiritual fluff, remember mainstream science still can't explain how consciousness arises from brain matter.
There's no biological mechanism that bridges the gap between neurons firing and the experience of being.
There's nothing in physics that can explain, as you've already heard over and over, how a group of molecules in the brain creates consciousness.
So the beauty of the sunset, the taste of a delicious meal, these are all mysteries to science, how we subjectively feel that.
So maybe we've been asking the wrong question all along.
Instead of what happens when we die, maybe we should be asking what is this place we're experiencing?
And who's really doing the experiencing?
Because if consciousness isn't local, then death might not be a wall.
It might be a doorway.
Here's where things take a turn most people never see coming.
If consciousness exists outside of time and space, then reality as we experience it could be just one version among many.
Not because of sci-fi multiverses, but because consciousness may be constantly selecting outcomes from a sea of quantum possibilities.
Think of the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics proposed by physicist Hugh Everett in the 1950s.
It suggests that every time a decision is made or a particle takes one path over another, alternate realities branch off.
Now we've never thought that we were in a superposition, right?
No one ever feels like that's what they've seen.
So the inventors of quantum mechanics said well, we're going to pick one of those possible places you saw it here and the electron was there and say that's real what the many worlds version of quantum mechanics says.
Actually, they're all real, but they can't talk to each other.
So before you did the observation, there was one world, the electron was spread out and you were in your state.
After, there are many, many worlds.
And in each one of those worlds the electron was in one particular position, and that is where you saw it.
In that framework, your consciousness could theoretically continue in one of those branches after death.
Not reincarnation, not heaven or hell, but a shift, a continuation in a new configuration of reality selected and sustained by awareness.
Lanza doesn't claim to know exactly what that looks like.
He only insists that death is not the end of consciousness, because consciousness is not confined to physical matter.
And that's not as outrageous as it sounds.
Let's go back to biology for a moment.
Your brain processes information electrochemically.
But the awareness of that information, the voice in your head, the sense of self, is not physical.
You can't touch a thought.
You can't weigh a feeling.
Yet we know they're real because we experience them directly.
So what if that inner world isn't a side effect of biology, but the source of it?
Lanza points to experiments where people in near-death states reported vivid consciousness even when their brains showed zero electrical activity.
Their memories were sharp, emotions clear, details precise.
Some even recall the conversations happening in the room while they were clinically dead.
What we're beginning to demonstrate is that actually, contrary to our perceptions, consciousness does not become annihilated just because a person has just died.
And, in fact, consciousness appears to continue, at least in the first period, the early period of death, the first minutes or hours after death.
Beyond that, of course, we can't study, because that's the extreme, that's the extent that we can get to.
I don't know what will happen in the future, but certainly during the time the brain is shut down and flatlined, the entity of consciousness does not get lost.
This raises a powerful question.
If the brain is off, how is the mind still on?
The answer, according to biocentrism, is that the brain isn't generating consciousness.
It's filtering it, like a radio that tunes into a signal that was always there.
And when the brain stops, the signal doesn't.
It just stops coming through that channel.
So death might not be a loss, but a release from the illusion that this physical form was ever the full story.
Let's look at what the science actually says because, as strange as these ideas sound, they're backed by real-world data that's hard to ignore.
Over the last two decades, researchers like Dr Sam Parnia have studied hundreds of cases where people were clinically dead.
No heartbeat, no brain activity, yet somehow they were still aware.
Their memories during these periods weren't vague dreams.
They were detailed, consistent, sometimes even verifiable.
Among the group who survived, what we found is a breadth of consciousness and recollection.
So 39% of people reported broad perceptions and memories.
These were not necessarily being able to recall specific events, but they felt that they had been conscious or had specific memories.
If you then broke this down further, 20 of the group who survived had a transcendent experience regarding their cardiac arrest.
7 of these and I'm going to talk about that in a moment 7 of the experiences were more compatible with CPR-induced consciousness.
You'll see what I mean in a moment with that.
7 had perceptions of auditory awareness and hearing different things, discussions and 35 had visual awareness.
In one case, a man described exact medical procedures being done on his body, while his brain showed no signs of consciousness.
Monitors confirmed that brain activity had flatlined and yet the awareness remained.
That shouldn't be possible.
Another study led by Dr Bruce Grayson, one of the most respected figures in near-death research, found that many people who had NDEs came back with vivid experiences that changed their entire worldview.
Common themes included a sense of floating outside the body, observing doctors working on them, or traveling through light into another space altogether.
And here's the part that breaks every rule we thought we understood.
In many of these cases, patients describe things they couldn't possibly have known, like conversations in another room or visual details they were never physically present to see.
Yeah, I grew up in a scientific household and we never had any thought about anything spiritual or non-physical.
My first week or two into my residency, I was confronted by a patient who was unconscious.
I couldn't talk with her.
She was totally out cold.
So I talked to her roommate who had brought her in in a different room, and then came back and saw the patient.
She was still unconscious.
I had her admitted to the intensive care unit.
And when I saw her the next morning, I went in to introduce myself and she said, I know who you are.
I remember you from last night.
And that kind of Blew me away.
I didn't know what she was talking about.
She proceeded to tell me about the conversation I had with a roommate, including intimate details, and I didn't know what to make of that.
If consciousness were purely a brain function, all of this should be impossible, but it keeps happening.
Some scientists argue it's just random brain activity in a dying mind.
But that explanation collapses when you see clear awareness during periods when the brain shows no activity at all.
So, the question is no longer, do these experiences happen?
The evidence is overwhelming.
The real question is, what do they mean?
And that's where Lanza's framework fits perfectly.
Biocentrism doesn't just accommodate these anomalies, it predicts them.
If the mind isn't confined to the body and reality is observer dependent, then death wouldn't stop awareness.
It would simply shift the point of observation.
And suddenly all these scattered cases and bizarre experiences aren't random anymore.
They're part of a bigger pattern.
A pattern that suggests our understanding of death might be completely wrong.
If these cases were rare, maybe we could ignore them.
But they're not.
In fact, across cultures ages religions, even among people with no belief in an afterlife, the same pattern keeps showing up.
Awareness continues after clinical death.
Details are recalled accurately, and the experience often feels more real than waking life.
That's not just strange, it's statistically significant.
Studies by institutions like NYU Langan, University of Virginia and the Netherlands Radboud University all point to the same core insight.
Consciousness doesn't behave the way materialist science says it should.
It's not confined to the brain.
It doesn't shut off like a light switch.
And it's not just near-death experiences.
People under deep anesthesia, where brain activity is heavily suppressed, sometimes report vivid awareness.
In rare cases of terminal lucidity, Alzheimer's patients who hadn't spoken in years suddenly became fully coherent moments before death.
They recognize loved ones, they speak clearly, then they pass.
But we did a literature search and found about 80 cases in the literature of the past 100 years.
And in the last decade, there's been a lot of research into this phenomenon.
And it's mostly being done in Alzheimer's research units.
But we also see it with brain tumors, with abscesses, with chronic schizophrenics, with a variety of cases in which the brain seems to be not functioning for a long period of time.
And then, shortly before death, they become completely lucid again, recognize people, start carrying on conversations.
And we don't really know how to explain this at this point.
If the brain is deteriorated, how is this possible?
It all points in one direction.
The mind is not the machine.
It's something else.
This is exactly what thinkers like physicist Max Planck hinted at over a century ago.
He said, I regard consciousness as fundamental.
Everything else derives from it, not the other way around.
So why are we still acting like consciousness is a byproduct of the brain?
Because our entire model of reality, our science medicine, even our sense of identity is built on the materialist assumption that only what we can see, touch or measure is real.
But the data refuses to stay quiet, and when you put it all together, a new picture starts to form.
One where death isn't the end.
One where reality is shaped from the inside out.
One where the thing you call you has never been a body.
It's always been an observer, an experiencer, a presence that can't be measured by instruments because it's the source of measurement itself.
And once you see that pattern, you can't unsee it.
Here's where it all comes together.
In the 1980s, two scientists working in separate fields, David Bohm, a quantum physicist, and Carl Pribram, a neuroscientist, arrived at the same shocking conclusion.
Both the universe and the human brain appear to function like holograms.
A hologram is a 3D image encoded in a 2D surface.
But here's the mind-blowing part.
Every part of a hologram contains the whole, cut into pieces, and each fragment still contains the entire image.
Bohm believed that what we see as reality is just the projection of a deeper, hidden order.
He called the implicate order a field beyond space and time where everything is connected.
What we perceive as separate objects, people and events are just fragments unfolding from that deeper source.
We are internally related to everything, not externally related.
Consciousness is an internal relationship to the whole.
We take in the whole and we act toward the whole.
That internal, whatever we have taken in, determines basically what we are.
Pribram, working on how memories are stored in the brain, discovered something equally strange.
Our brains don't seem to store memories in fixed locations like files in a cabinet.
Instead, memory behaves holographically, distributed, non-local, and interference-based. just like a hologram.
Together, their findings suggested something radical, that reality might not be out there.
What we see as the external world could be a projection emerging from a deeper field of consciousness, an interconnected matrix where space and time are just illusions layered on top.
And this explains why so many near-death experiences and altered states report the same thing a sense of oneness, timelessness and a collapse of the boundary between self and world.
Because maybe, when the body dies, the projection ends, but the source, the field behind it all remains.
You.
Still aware.
Still present.
The idea that death is the end only makes sense in a world where reality is separate, linear and material.
But if the universe is holographic, if consciousness is primary, then death isn't a disappearance.
It's a return.
To the place behind the illusion.
To the field that creates all things. to the source that was never separate from you.
And here's something strange.
Many people say they've seen repeating numbers everywhere 1111 1212 444, 1616 almost like little glitches in the code of reality, signals from something deeper, maybe even from that field behind the projection.
Anyway, these synchronicities are a whole other rabbit hole we'll explore in a future video.
Quick side note if you're into numerology, I recommend trying a free numerology reading on this website.
It's simple but surprisingly accurate, and it helped me make sense of a few patterns I couldn't explain before.
I'll leave a link in the description.
And the craziest part?
Some scientists think we've already caught glimpses of it.
If death is just the end of a projection and if space is not truly separate, then there's one more illusion we have to confront.
Time.
Einstein once said the distinction between past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.
According to his theory of relativity, all moments in time already exist.
Past and future aren't gone or yet to happen.
They're just coordinates, like different places on a map.
In this model, your birth, your best memory, your final breath, they're all still there.
The flow of time is something you experience, but it doesn't exist on its own.
It's a byproduct of consciousness moving through events.
And if that's true, then death doesn't mark the end of you.
It marks the end of this particular experience of linear time.
Here's where things get even more surreal.
Dr. Robert Lanza takes this further.
If space and time are just tools your consciousness uses to decode the universe, then you've never actually been in time.
You've only been experiencing snapshots of it, like frames in a film.
And death?
That's just the point where the film reel shifts.
You, your awareness, never disappears.
You just stop experiencing this particular storyline.
And this explains why so many near-death experiences report a strange sense of timelessness, where everything happens at once and time has no meaning.
Because maybe, outside this projection, time doesn't exist.
So what happens when we die?
Maybe nothing ends.
Maybe we just exit the illusion of linear time and return to a state where everything, every moment, every possibility exists all at once.
And now that you've seen this, how can you ever look at life the same way again?
Because if space is an illusion, if time is an illusion and if death is just a transition, then maybe the biggest illusion of all is that you were ever separate from the universe in the first place.
That's it for today's video.
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And as always, thanks for watching.
