I read in the newspaper this morning about a woman who died briefly, went to heaven and then came back. She's written a book about the subject, but you'll have to find out about it on your own. I'm not telling. The author recounts how, in her time in the afterlife, she walked through a heaven of gold and diamonds, met friends, and saw how people lived in third-world countries. All pretty much standard stuff.
There's an urge in me to go into long involved discussions about the mechanics of afterlife experiences, but you know all that already. Instead, think of this: The woman had a very real experience. She lived (no pun intended) all these things she describes. She's not lying to us, nor scamming us. It happened. And it changed her life.
Whether or not heaven has gold and diamond decor isn't really that important. What is important, though, is that this experience is her experience. It isn't mine and it isn't universal. If I were to have an afterlife experience, I'm sure that heaven would resemble a combination library and classic car show. Can you imagine it? A huuuge room, high ceilings, wall to ceiling bookshelves, high windows, dark green carpet covered with perfectly restored Jaguars, Duesenbergs, Ferrari Barchettas and Alfa Romeos. I'd see my friends there, along with Charles Darwin, Albert Einstein, and Mark Twain, arguing over whether a 67 Mustang was superior to a 68 Camaro.
I share my vision with you, but you may rest assured that yours will be different. For that reason, I couldn't bring myself to write a book about it.