Page 77 of The Secret of Secrets (Robert Langdon #6)

The limousine was approaching the posh neighborhood of Bubene?, and Langdon knew the ambassadorial residence was not far off. Transfixed by Katherine’s revelations, he was eager to hear the rest.

There’s a reality around us that we can’t perceive?

“The idea first dawned on me,” Katherine continued, “while I was researching the postictal experiences described by epileptics, ” she explained.

“I suddenly realized that their blissful experiences were remarkably similar to the accounts of another group.” She paused, her eyes alight. “Those who have died …and come back.”

Near-death experiences, Langdon thought, realizing she was right. Following the trauma of near death or a seizure, both groups reported an untethering from the body, a deep connection to all things, and a profound sense of peace.

“So I ran with that idea…and I devised an unusual experiment.” Katherine gave him a quiet smile.

“And this is where things really got interesting. First, I located a terminally ill patient not too far from my lab—a retired neurologist himself—who agreed to undergo his death process while enclosed inside a new kind of imaging machine—a real-time magnetic resonance spectroscopy device. I explained that I would be able to watch his brain chemistry moment by moment as he died. He felt gratified by the chance to provide accurate data like we’ve never been able to measure previously.

With his family and hospice staff gathered around on a lovely afternoon, he passed away while being scanned inside the massive machine.

“Throughout the dying process,” Katherine continued, “I saw rapidly rising levels of key neurotransmitters—including adrenaline and endorphins, which function to subdue pain and help the physical body through the stress of the death process. In other words, a shutdown of the sensory systems. It followed logically that GABA levels would also increase—to filter out the death experience as the brain shut down.” Katherine smiled. “But that’s not what happened.”

“No?”

“What happened was the exact opposite! As he died, his GABA levels dropped precipitously! In his final moments, GABA levels approached zero, meaning all of his brain filters were gone. The entire death experience was flowing in—with nothing blocked out!”

“Is that…good or bad?”

“Robert, I would say it’s wonderful! It means that during the dying process, our brain’s filters open up, and we become a radio that hears the entire spectrum.

Our consciousness witnesses all of reality!

” Katherine took his hands and held them tightly.

“That is precisely why people who have near-death experiences describe a feeling of total connection, of all-knowing bliss. The chemistry proves it! As we die, our bodies shut down…and our brains wake up!”

Langdon flashed on the opening line to one of his favorite novels. It is said that in death, all things become clear.

“What’s more,” she continued, “in the sixty seconds before the patient’s heart stopped, his brain flooded with high-frequency oscillations that included gamma waves! These are associated with intense memory retrieval, and his levels were off the chart.”

“So he was… remembering something?”

“No, at these levels, he was remembering everything. The gamma numbers definitely suggest there is truth to the enduring legend that your life passes before your eyes before you die.”

The concept of a “full life recall,” Langdon knew, appeared in many religions; the Angel of Death showed the soul all its life choices as a form of enlightenment and karmic teaching.

“At some point,” Katherine said, “the brain itself dies, and our receiver is gone. And my belief, based on my experiments, is that the dying process foreshadows what lies ahead—a kind of preview of coming attractions—an ability to perceive so much more than we normally can.”

“So, when the brain finally dies and can no longer perceive anything at all…is that not the end ?”

Katherine smiled thoughtfully. “We already know from near-death experiences that death involves a breaking free from our physical form…combined with an intense feeling of joy and connection to all things. If we know our individual consciousness comes from outside our brain—as so much noetic research now shows—then to my ear, it sounds like consciousness simply abandons the physical realm at the moment of death…and reintegrates back into the whole. You no longer need your body to receive the signal…you are the signal.”

Langdon felt a chill. The soul returns home. The concept was an ancient one. The dust returns to the ground it came from…and the spirit returns to God who gave it.—Ecclesiastes 12:7.

Despite his uncertainty that consciousness continued beyond death, Langdon had no doubt that if Katherine was correct about brain filters limiting our perception of reality, her discovery was life-altering.

In essence, she was positing that all humans were equipped with the hardware required to perceive the true nature of the universe…

and yet we were chemically protected from using it… until the moment of death.

“This is all amazing,” he said. “Even if it presents a cruel, cosmic Catch-22.”

“How so?”

“We have to die to see the Truth…and when we do, it’s too late to tell anyone what we saw.”

Katherine smiled. “Robert, death is not the only path to enlightenment. History is filled with great minds that have enjoyed a momentary glimpse of some divine light that nobody else could see. Consider Newton, Einstein, and Galileo, religious prophets…These brilliant minds had scientific epiphanies and spiritual revelations that, as it turns out, can be explained in scientific terms. ”

“You mean their filters got lowered?”

“Temporarily, yes. And in that moment, they received far more information about the universe than we are able to see.”

Langdon thought of scientist Nikola Tesla, whose quote Katherine had sent him after their first discussion about nonlocal consciousness: My brain is only a receiver. In the Universe there is a core from which we obtain knowledge.

“Have you ever done drugs, Robert?”

The non sequitur took him off guard. “Do you consider gin a drug?”

She laughed. “No, I’m talking about psychedelics—hallucinogens that cause overwhelming emotions and vivid imagery.”

Clearly you’ve never had enough gin. “No.”

“Psychedelics like mescaline, LSD, psilocybin—do you know how those drugs make you experience all that?”

Langdon had never really thought about it. “I assume they stimulate your imagination?”

“That’s a reasonable guess,” she said, “and that’s what most people think, but then again nobody had yet thought to use real-time magnetic resonance spectroscopy to observe a mind in the midst of a psychedelic drug trip.”

“You did that?” He pictured someone tripping on LSD, strapped into an MRI tube, with Katherine looking on.

“Of course I did…it was the logical next step in my research. Many drug trips include out-of-body experiences, and I wondered what the GABA response looked like when that happened.”

“And?”

Katherine was beaming now. “As it turns out…just like our historically misunderstood halo, we’ve been seeing it all backward.

Hallucinogens don’t excite your neurons, as you guessed—they do the opposite.

Those drugs, through a series of complex interactions in the brain’s default mode network, drastically decrease your GABA levels.

In other words, they lower your filters and allow a wider spectrum of reality to flow in.

That means you are not hallucinating, you’re actually seeing more of reality.

Those sensations of connectedness, love and enlightenment… are real. ”

It was a remarkable assertion and Langdon considered it—that the brain had limitless potential to receive consciousness…except that it was locked inside a protective cage that could be escaped only through death…or, to a lesser degree, an epileptic seizure or certain psychedelic substances.

The topic of psychedelics seemed to be everywhere these days; health experts all over the media were suddenly extolling the virtues of “microdosing” psychedelic mushrooms, proclaiming that psilocybin was a panacea for anxiety, depression, and distraction.

One of Langdon’s Harvard colleagues, author Michael Pollan, had made headlines not long ago with his number one bestseller and Netflix documentary about the positive power of psychedelics, How to Change Your Mind.

Another Boston-based superstar in the field, Rick Doblin, had founded MAPS—the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies—which had raised over $130 million for psychedelic research with astonishing success treating depression and PTSD.

Brave new world, Langdon thought, recalling that Huxley’s vision of the future had included dosing the entire population with a happy drug called SOMA.

“The chemistry of consciousness,” Katherine said, “is not just a fascinating exercise in self-exploration…it could be the shift humanity needs to survive. Think of the chaos and discord of our world today. Imagine a future in which humans start to lower our brain filters and begin to exist with a greater understanding of reality…a greater sense of inclusion and togetherness. We might truly start to believe that we’re a unified species! ”

Langdon was transfixed by her out-of-the-box thinking.

“Think of all the elusive enlightened states we crave,” Katherine said.

“Expanded consciousness, universal connection, unbounded love, spiritual awakening, creative genius. They all seem out of reach—the products of very special minds or rare experiences. Not true! We all have that capacity— all the time. We’re just chemically blocked from experiencing it… ”

Langdon felt a surge of love and respect for her.

Katherine may have just revolutionized our understanding of human consciousness…

and discovered a road map for widening it.

“I’m floored, Katherine—your work is going to have profound impact,” he said, letting it all settle and trying not to get dragged back to reality by the obvious question that remained on his mind.

“I know,” Katherine said with a frown, anticipating his thought. “It still doesn’t explain why all this is happening…why anyone would want to destroy my manuscript.”

Exactly.

The answer to that question, Langdon realized, would have to wait.

The limousine had just banked left and slowed at a stone archway and a heavy cast-iron gate outside the ambassadorial residence.

A sign read, All Visitors Must Present Identification .

The security protocol apparently did not extend to those in the ambassadorial limousine, because the gate swung open and the Marine in the stone sentry house ushered them through without hesitation.

Langdon gazed out at the fortified perimeter walls surrounding the grounds of the residence and wondered what answers might lie inside. As the limo snaked along the tree-lined driveway, he noticed the gate had already closed tightly behind them. An uncomfortable thought gripped him.

Are we entering a sanctuary…or a lion’s den?