The 5 Most Valuable Life Lessons I Gained From My Near-Death Experiences

Drowning, crashing, drugs—the gateway of death and 5 priceless lessons.

Image generated by Midjourney - edited by Colton

I have the distinct pleasure of having survived 5 different near-death experiences.

There are even a couple of others that weren’t quite ‘near-death’ enough for this list.

But I don’t like talking about any of my several near-death experiences.

Why?

Because they make me sound like a death magnet.

After all, 5+ times must have a common denominator.

Me.

But they also have another thing in common…

They each taught me how to rely on myself in the most unforgettable of ways.

And my hope is by sharing these stories I’d rather you not know, is that you can get even the slightest tinge of this realization—that you can truly, deeply rely on yourself.

Without putting your life on the line to learn that.

So here’s the 5 times I came closest to death, and a lesson I learned from each.

Near-Death Experience #1: Drowning

When I was 8 I lived in Virginia about two hours from the beach.

My family and I would often make that drive and spend the day by the beach.

We would bring snacks, and towels, and make a good time of it.

I remember this time being there for a few hours in the middle of the day.

My parents were sitting on the beach on chairs under umbrellas reading and talking.

I had been in the water for a long time, just walking on the sand and bobbing with the gentle waves.

Eventually, I did as all kids do, and started to see how long I could hold my breath.

Except I’m an only child, so instead of competing with my siblings I competed with myself and the ocean’s ceaseless rhythm.

I never lasted long, because under the water even if I sat down my small body would get pushed and pulled by the waves.

I would come up, see my parents, grab a new breath and then try again.

After a few times of this, I noticed the movements getting stronger.

The nudge against my body became a push.

And I let out a surprised gasp.

The current suspended me weightlessly above the sand and spun me—my feet went over my head, andI began to spin and move in one direction in the water—further from the beach.

I don’t know how long it was, or how long I spun for.

I just remember feeling weightless in the water and dizzy, like I was rolling in a barrel down a hill.

Just spinning and unable to untether myself from the current I was submerged in.

After a life-changing few moments, the current took me close to a rock and I was able to get my feet under me again and hug that big rock.

Catching my breath I saw my parents, much further away than before, but I could still recognize their chairs.

They didn’t see me—they weren’t looking.

I remember feeling scared, then upset.

And then a new realization I have never experienced before dawned on me.

I knew then my parents are living their own lives and while they would want to protect me if they knew what was happening—they can’t be there for everything.

Even if they are close.

Lesson #1: Others can’t survive for you.

Near-Death Experience #2: Drugs

This next one was my fault.

I was 16, and my best friend was in town.

They’re now a Natural Resource Manager, and they’ve always had a proclivity for botany.

In our friend group, my main trait was simply being ‘down.’

So, when they said they had been investigating this lyric from their favorite band and that it talked about a magic tea he wanted to try to brew—I was down.

I didn’t understand then what I was getting into.

I had no way of knowing how deep that rabbit hole really goes.

The idea of a psychedelic was literally impossible to understand until I experienced it.

When I was 16, it was 2009 and you could buy the ingredients to make Ayahuasca online for $40.

Now, it’s something the tech elite spend tens of thousands to have Peruvian shamans guide them through.

I had no idea of the sacred lineage involved I would later come to respect.

But the basis of that respect came from the reckoning I experienced that day.

Ayahuasca is a sacred psychedelic brew which has the main ingredient DMT, which is among if not the most potent psychedelic on the planet.

Ironically, it was very easy to make.

Turns out you can find it in most things… grass, trees, many plants.

The reason we aren’t high from digesting it all the time, is because our stomach acid breaks it down.

Ayahuasca is not the source of this DMT, but actually, a potent brew extracted from a vine found in South America that stops your body from digesting DMT.

And instead, allows it to become psychoactive and reach the pineal gland.

My friend found a step-by-step guide on an old 1990’s website and we made it in the kitchen.

It took 4 hours and tasted like shit.

It had an unbelievable amount of lemon juice in it.

After drinking we sat there looking out a window for 40 minutes.

My friend is visibly upset it isn’t taking effect and I realize then that they wanted to do this for reasons related to their growth—they wanted something out of this.

I was actually a little relieved it didn’t work and that I had managed to be a pushover without life-altering consequences.

In a few more moments, the sky burned a hot violent purple.

A high-pitched squeal slowly raised up the back of my neck, from within the back of my mind, and everything became illuminated in glowing writing.

After that, I was no longer in my body.

For perspective, DMT releases when you are born, when you die, and sometimes when you dream.

So if you’re wondering what it feels like it’s exactly that.

Simulated death and rebirth.

That day had a profound influence on my perspective on life.

And luckily, my friend did not manage to break through and so I got to have the shaman there I needed.

Lesson: you can easily bite off more than you can chew.

Bonus lesson: there are knowable secrets to this world if you can peek behind the curtain.

Near-Death Experience #3: Truck.

I actually tell this full story here:

The context is that I’m an Air Force brat.

I moved 28 times by the time I was 18.

This meant changing schools a lot.

Amazingly, I managed to spend 4 of those years at one school, so many of my (even now) lifelong friends I met during this period.

Including my ‘brew psychedelics at home’ friend.

And part of the reason we remained close is even after I moved again, I would frequently make trips to visit.

At first via car, later planes.

But during one of these trips I set out to do, I didn’t make it.

There was a freak-blizzard, and despite every red flag saying I should delay by a day, and each concerned look from family, I decided to go for it anyways.

It was only a 3.5 hour trip and I had done it dozens of times.

And this time, my friends were throwing a party for me and they had been sending me pictures of the decorations as they got it set up.

I didn’t want to let them down, so I went for it.

For the most part the trip was fine and my rickety old Ford Taurus did what it needed to do.

But at one point, it was just me and a semi-truck on the road, who I could barely see through the thick sheet of white snow hanging in the air.

I was in the left lane and maintained my speed to pass them—when I noticed them getting closer and closer to me.

Until we were sharing a lane.

My lane.

Just by a couple of feet, but it was enough on the icy roads for the force of wind alone to push my car into a slight back-and-forth swivel.

This small swivel became a larger back-and-forth jerking, from left, to right, harder each time, until eventually, my car began to spin where it was—putting me in the driver seat, underneath the semi.

It was then that I saw the steel of the rear cage that protects the trucks’ back tires rapidly approaching, directly at me, from the passenger window.

At this moment, my body moved on its own and braced for impact.

Luckily, instead of simply driving over my car, the cage impacted and folded the front right of my car in like aluminum.

And, with the ice on the roads, all that force impacted hard and shot me out from under the truck—up and over the road, and nose down into the ditch.

It was at this point I realized I was not going to make the party.

I was able to walk out of the car without a scratch.

A mile ahead the semi-stopped, and I called the police for help.

Before they arrived the semi-left the scene and I was left picking up the pieces.

Lesson: if you focus only on where you’re going, and not the road ahead of you that you actually have to take, you may never get there.

Near-Death Experience #4: Water Poisoning

This one sucked because it didn’t take a day.

It took a year or more.

It happening in Malaysia, while I was working at Mindvalley.

I had been working with them and traveling South East Asia for 9 months at this point, and like most, had caught at least a few different types of intestine ruining bacteria and parasites.

I had many friends who I would see every day, who would vanish for 6 months at a time. Often this was because they were on a trip, but half the time it was because they got stung by a mosquito and caught Dengue.

Knowing the dangers, I was pretty careful.

But when you’re riding buses, sleeping and eating at random places, you ultimately have to develop and trust your immune-system.

The ironic thing is never caught Dengue.

But the thing that took my health out of commission was water poisoning.

Presumably from my building.

I didn’t start out knowing what it was.

At first, it looked like anxiety and panic. It would come on as shortness of breath and being unable to breathe.

Just a panic and sense that something is wrong, and bright colors burning in my eyes.

When my vision changed, I knew this wasn’t just in my head.

I got taken to the hospital in an ambulance.

And within an hour, I in a dimly lit room in the lobby of a Malaysian hospital, sitting in an old brown recliner, in a row of old, tattered brown recliners with about 20 other men who were hooked up to IVs.

My panic settled when I saw what they were going through, missing limbs, bleeding, but not panicking.

Eventually they only thing the doctors could conclude was a parasite in the water.

They gave me antibiotics and it took me months to get over the fatigue.

I had been living with my Brazilian body-builder roommate and we went to the gym every day for months. In those recovery months I lost most of the 20 lbs of muscle I gained.

It took me a year of yoga, plant-based diets, and visiting healers before I got my strength back.

Now, I don’t take my strength for granted.

Lesson: Buy bottled water.

Bonus lesson: protect your immune system and it will protect you.

Near-Death Experience #5: Drowning Pt. 2

This last story also involves drowning, but this time with different lessons to teach.

It happened when I was living in Georgia.

A friend of mine who lived there wanted to go kayaking down the Chattanooga river.

I had never been kayaking before, but it seemed casual enough.

Perfect storm element #1: overconfidence.

What I did not know, was that it had just rained and the category 3 rapids on this river were now category 4 predominately and 5 at points.

Perfect storm element #2: the flood.

This didn’t seem like it would be a life-threatening issue for me, because the kayaking I had done before you simply sit on the kayaks.

And you want off it, you simply get off it.

But then I saw the kayaks we were going to be using.

They were the last 3 at the place we were renting them from.

Each came with a bizarre skirt that you’re meant to wear, which helps keep water out of the Kayak, and also keep you attached to it.

So, we put our skirts on our Kayaks and I strap in.

Mine isn’t so bad, but I see my friend’s friend who came with us is squirming in his seat.

He’s a heavy guy compared to me and complains his Kayak is too small.

Then he asks for mine, giving the excuse that I’m skinner than him and he would fit better in my longer Kayak.

I don’t want to be rude, and know nothing about Kayaking—I’m relying on them for guidance, so I give up my Kayak.

Meanwhile, I get into his, and notice quickly the thing that really matters here is not bulk but length.

I’m over 6 foot and this guy is about 5” 6.

My knees are squeezed together inside his kayak, and he’s breathing a sigh of relief in mine.

My actual friend is already moving up the river, so we follow along.

In a way, I’m relieved I don’t have to try to get out of this too-small Kayak and my only option is to follow along or sit the day out.

Perfect storm element #3: selflessness.

The ride was actually a blast.

We came upon the first set of rapids, usually category 3, now category 4 and I make it down them, within seconds—no problem.

Within a few minutes a second set of rapids came up on us.

This time goes much like the first, except at the end, I catch a small amount of air and bounce off a rock.

I land in the water sideways and roll to get back vertical, but since I’m in the rapids I spin in a complete circle.

I roll back on top again and continue to spin back underwater.

Except this time, I’m where the rapids converge and the pressure of them pushes my head and torso down, while my legs strapped into the kayak life up.

From underneath the waves, I roll again and I’m getting dizzy.

From underneath, I roll again, and I’m getting dizzy. And again the rapids accelerating my spin and leaving me upside down in the water.

Except this time, I’m several feet under, with the rapids pushing down on top of me.

At this point, I’m not interested in recovering from this in style and go to pull the eject seal on my skirt strapping me in.

But it doesn’t release on the first pull, or the second.

Now I’m pulling against this seal, upside-down, under the water and the rapids.

My legs are still twisted, above my head.

And I’m in a current, spinning in a large circle under the water—being dragged by the kayak I’m attached to.

I remember the sensation.

The feeling of water army punishing and pulling me.

Just like that time as a kid at the beach.

Except this time, I’m strapped into a too-small Kayak flipped upside down, holding me under the water which is pounding the back of my head and torse down.

I push against the resistance and look back and toward my friends.

They’re up the river.

I get pushed under and push harder to see them and this time let out a ‘help.’

I glance at them one more time, through water, before I pulled down into the riverbed.

This is when I got the similar sensation I’ve got before.

I get something like it in each of my near-death experiences, and the ones that I am able to recover from being truly bad and making their way on to this list.

This sensation is always preceded by a thought that wakes me up to my core.

I think, “No one is going to save me.”

Thinking I can’t… I can’t….

Knowing if I don’t do something, anything, I know exactly what will happen.

I can’t… I can’t…

Of all the times, this is the closest I came to dying.

I know because I thought no one is going to help me several times.

I felt what it’s like to run low on air, and be whipped around by rapids for longer than I could stand.

The seal never gives and running low on air, a a switch flips in my head.

Instead of looking for someone else to come help me…

I think about what I actually can do.

I can’t go up.

I can’t get out.

The water wants me to go down.

So, I go down.

I stop fighting the rapids and I let them push me to the bottom of the river bed.

The water is calmer down here, and I can touch the bottom with my hands.

I grab roots and dirt and stones and claw them out.

The rapids keep me near the ground, and I grab the dirt and mud and pull myself in any direct besides the very center of this water grave.

I wasn’t able to go the direction I wanted to go, up.

But I was able to go forward.

My eyes burned in the water and what I could see is now dark and thick with mud.

I clawed again, and again. Pulling, ripping, and throwing myself, and the kayak, forward—away from the center.

I clawed until I found the wall of the river, and used it to stabilize myself and for the first time in a couple of minutes, pull myself up.

Within a few seconds, I pulled myself up the side of the riverbed and I unhooked myself.

I walked the rest of the river, carrying my Kayak with me.

Lesson: the way out may not be the way you want to go.

Bonus lesson: Be careful who you rely on and don’t trust anyone to do your thinking for you.

How Not to Die Before Your Time

Have you ever been around someone who does drugs, and they say they do the drugs, so they know how to ‘get back there’ on their own?

Near-death is kind of like that.

But instead of the highest high, it’s the deepest valley.

And it strips away everything that isn’t true, everything that isn’t necessary, and everything that isn’t going to keep you alive in that moment.

There is a certain kind of clarity that can only come from that.

I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone—if you don’t have to.

Time and time again near death has taken my naivete…

It has revealed what is actually important…

And most of all it taught me the feeling of what it’s like to fully rely on myself.

It taught me the sensation of self-trust, and exactly what I need to feel before I am able to rescue myself again.

Since then, I have luckily managed to travel the world, live on several continents, eat tons of street food, and survived it all with fairly little drama.

Not because I take fewer chances, but because I trust myself more.

I hope these stories help you realize that even when you are the furthest outside of your comfort zone as you can be…

You can still rely on yourself.

It’s the hardest lesson to learn, and tough love to remember.

But it will serve you more than any other.

And I hope these stories helped put you in touch with that part of you, without having to learn these the hard ways I had to.

Hard to kill,

Colton Swabb

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