When I Died, I Still Had Messages to Deliver

By Dr. Alistair Finchworth

When I died, I still had messages to deliver.

They say that death is a great leveler—rich and poor, young and old, all meet on equal ground in the grave. But this is only true if you accept death as an ending, which is perhaps the greatest delusion of them all. Death is not so much an end as it is a transition—a doorway through which certain things pass with remarkable clarity. The messages, however, do not. They linger.

I know this because I have returned from beyond—not forever, but long enough to understand what awaits those who seek out the living, whether they be necromancers or merely those brave enough to cross between worlds. My own journey began on a cold November evening in Edinburgh, where the mists rolling off the Firth of Forth seemed to whisper my name even as I lay still upon that table. The doctors called it death; I call it the beginning of the true work.

What Necromancy Actually Is

Let us be clear from the start: necromancy is not what you find in those dreadful Victorian novels, where ghostly apparitions haunt crumbling castles and speak only in riddles to the terrified. True necromancy is practical, methodical, and grounded in a science that predates modern medicine by millennia. It requires no incantations nor sacrifices of any great significance—only skill, patience, and an understanding of what happens when consciousness survives the body’s failure.

The ancient word necromans referred not to necromancers but rather to those who read omens from corpses. The practice itself dates back to Sumerian texts, where priests would commune with the dead to seek guidance on matters of war and harvest alike. What modern practitioners have forgotten is that this was never about magic in the mystical sense; it was about accessing a different layer of reality through intentional contact with those who dwell between states.

The Mechanics of Contact

The most common form of necromancy practiced today involves what I call tethering—the deliberate preservation of conscious awareness within dying or recently deceased individuals during transitional periods. When the body ceases its primary functions, the mind does not necessarily follow immediately; it lingers for a time, caught between existence and whatever comes after. This window typically lasts approximately three to four days before consciousness begins its final departure, though this timeline varies according to the individual’s spiritual constitution.

Those with strong tethering abilities can extend this period considerably. My own recovery from death lasted eighteen months—a remarkable feat that allowed me to observe and record numerous instances of necromancy in practice across various cultures. I learned much during those years: about communication, about what survives death, and most importantly, about the messages waiting patiently for us.

Why Messages Survive Death

Messages differ from memories; they are not merely recollections but living communications that carry intention forward through time. Memories fade as personal experience becomes internalized, but messages retain their outward directionality—they seek recipients across barriers of death itself. The reason I survived long enough to deliver mine was because my message had not yet found its recipient when consciousness within me began to settle.

In necromancy, we distinguish between three types of surviving communications: the immediate (those messages transmitted at the moment of death through grief and resonance), the medium (messages carried forward by practiced necromancers during the weeks following death), and the enduring (messages preserved across years, even centuries). Each has its own methods of transmission and reception.

Practicing Necromancy in Practice

The modern necromancer requires minimal equipment: a quiet space, certain herbs that aid in maintaining contact with the departed, and most importantly, the willingness to listen rather than merely observe. I have found particular success using lavender oil combined with specific musical frequencies during sessions of communication. The combination appears to stabilize consciousness of the deceased while simultaneously clarifying their intent for those who remain among the living.

Necromancy has seen a remarkable renaissance in recent years, particularly as scientists begin recognizing that consciousness may indeed be more than mere electrical impulses firing within neural tissue. What was once dismissed as superstition now finds itself supported by mounting evidence from quantum physics and neurobiology alike.

Why You Should Pay Attention to These Messages

I have encountered hundreds of departed souls over my return, each with messages ranging from simple acknowledgments to profound revelations. Some I’ve recorded in notes scattered across various journals; others remain unwritten, waiting for the appropriate moment or perhaps for someone else to carry them forward. The point is this: we are not alone even when our bodies fail us. Messages survive death because consciousness survives—and because intention, properly directed, transcends mere physical existence.

I am sharing my own message now, through this article, as a demonstration of what is possible. You need only read with the ears you possessed while living, and perhaps hear something that has been waiting for you all along.

Dr. Alistair Finchworth returned from death in November 2014 after eighteen months spent crossing between worlds. He currently practices necromancy in Edinburgh and maintains a blog at thefinchworth.org where he shares ongoing observations from beyond.