Ginette Biro's NDE: Rewriting Her Soul Blueprint on the Other Side

The Canary in the Coal Mine

Before the surgery, Ginette had been sick for a very long time. She describes years of illness, hemorrhaging from her monthly cycles with no medical intervention that could make it stop. Her body had been weakened significantly. She was, as she puts it, the canary in a coal mine for her family. If someone was going to get sick, it was going to be her.

The surgery itself was meant to be straightforward, a procedure to finally stop the hemorrhaging that had drained her strength. But as she was wheeled into the operating room, something unexpected happened. She felt "this real sense of joy and excitement" that was completely out of character. She wasn't usually the type to be, as she puts it, hooting and hollering in excitement before going under the knife.

When the doctor said the anesthesiologist was going to administer the gas, she remembers thinking "all right yeah" with an enthusiasm that made her observe herself with bewilderment. Maybe, she thought, she'd have some interesting astral travel or spiritual understanding. She never expected to find herself on the other side.

Crossing the Threshold

Ginette had been to the doorway of the other side before. In her work as a medium, she'd accompanied different souls to that threshold. But she'd never been able to get closer than three steps to the light. She'd always been propelled backwards, sent back to her body and her life.

This time was different.

She literally found herself on the other side, and she knew exactly where she was. She knew what it meant: she was at a juncture point, a moment of choice. Her grandmother, her baba, came to greet her.

The grass beneath her feet was the most beautiful green she'd ever seen. As she walked, she could feel it under her feet, and if she wanted to, she could zero in on the detail of it without having to bend down and look at it. She was just standing, but she could see every blade with perfect clarity if she chose to focus her attention there.

Above her, the sky was "this most beautiful summer blue, that bright vibrant summer blue". The kind of blue that exists only in childhood memories of perfect days, except this was more real than any earthly summer had ever been.

The Gathering

She walked toward what looked like a summer barbecue scene. People were gathered, and as she got closer, she started recognizing faces. Her grandfather was there. Different family members. Friends who had passed. All the different people there were people that had been in her lifetime here who'd passed.

But there were others too. People, or souls, that she knew from lifetimes before. And she knew them. Not the way you might recognize a stranger's face in a crowd, but the way you know your oldest friends. It was like when you haven't seen friends for a while and then you meet up and you just start talking and you catch up right where you left off.

They had all gathered there to welcome her.

The hugs she received are difficult to describe in earthly terms. The closest comparison, she says, is "when we hug a child and they're so happy to see us and they throw themselves in your arms, it was like those kinds of hugs".

Her experience on the other side was only 20 minutes of human time, but for her the whole thing lasted like what felt like 24 hours. She spent what seemed like hours, stretching into the late evening, with these beautiful souls. They talked and reminisced and laughed and caught up on all kinds of things.

The feeling that permeated everything wasn't ecstasy or overwhelming emotion. It was harmony, it was balanced. That's what made it so beautiful. It was just joy.

Ginette still gets choked up when she describes this part. The bliss she felt there wasn't joy in excess, not the kind of ecstatic state we sometimes chase on earth. It was something quieter and infinitely more profound: perfect equilibrium.

The Council Room

After what felt like hours of reunion, her grandmother led her to the next phase of her journey. They ended up in a white room with a giant boardroom table, all white. Her council was there, her ascended masters and council, the souls that help her in this lifetime. We all have a council, she explains, spiritual guides who work with us.

Outside the windows of this room, she could see the farthest reaches of the universe and galaxies.

The being on her left rolled out a blueprint. Ginette was surprised. It looked so much like a blueprint like we would see architects have, and she almost laughed at how ordinary it appeared. But down the center of it was an iridescent light, moving back and forth. She could see that it was still alive.

What happened next was a life review. They reviewed everything she had done up to that point. But this wasn't a judgment. There was no shame, no condemnation. It was more like an assessment, a taking stock of what had been learned and what remained to be done.

And then the council asked her a question that stopped her completely.

"Do you want to stay or cross over fully?"

She was stunned. She was like "what?"

They repeated: "Do you want to stay here?"

She had full ability to remain in heaven. None of it felt like pressure, none of it felt like she had to. There was no panic in that moment. But she had a knowing throughout her whole being.

"Yes, I want to go back. I have more I need to do."

The Choice to Return

She'd already invested so much time into this human life. She wanted to go back. And in that moment of clarity, she realized the soul perspective of every struggle she'd had, how much she'd gained and how much value that was. The pain, the chronic illness, the years of hemorrhaging, all of it had been learning. All of it had been growth.

The council explained her options. If she wanted to stay, it was simple. Her body had been weakened to a point that they could basically flip a switch. She'd have a heart attack. She wouldn't be revived.

But she was certain. "No, I want to go back. I have things I need to do. I want to be there for my kids and family, and I want to do more."

The council said okay. Since she was going to go back and do more with what's remaining of her life, and she saw them gesture to indicate a length of time (she doesn't know if it meant 30 years, 40 years, or five), she would be given an extraordinary opportunity.

She could change different juncture points in her blueprint.

Rewriting Destiny

This is when Ginette truly understood how much we create our blueprint before we come into this lifetime. She was having the opportunity to reassess some things going forward, to pull out certain destiny points she'd planned before birth and replace them with others.

The juncture points looked like fuses in a fuse box along the iridescent line of her life blueprint.

The first one she pulled out was chronic health issues. She remembers pulling it out and asking, "Are you sure I can do this?" and they said "yes". She'd always been plagued with chronic health problems growing up. If anyone was going to be sick, it was going to be her.

She pulled that fuse out, put it down, and picked up one of health and wellness. She looked around, almost in disbelief. Really? She could do this?

Yes.

She put that one in.

She proceeded to change a couple more juncture points. But the council told her something important: "You will remember this first one, we'll give you that memory, but you're not gonna remember the next ones that you changed".

She agreed.

Then they told her: "Several things will fall into place in rapid succession to get you on your path".

One more time, they asked: "Are you sure you want to go back?"

Her whole energy, her soul, responded: "Absolutely, absolutely I want to go back".

The Return

At that moment, she could hear the nurse in recovery say "Ginette, are you awake?"

Everything had happened within seconds, split seconds. But she heard the nurse say "Ginette, are you awake?" and felt her soul go back into her body. She could still feel and see her grandmother beside her, but she was back in her physical form now.

Before she could even speak, something remarkable happened. Through consciousness, she felt her higher self come in and speak to the nurse.

The nurse asked again if she was awake. In such clarity, and Ginette emphasizes she's not clear when she comes out of surgery, it's actually quite funny, but in such clarity she said to the nurse: "I need you to write something down".

Her eyes were still closed. "I need you to write down these four phrases, these four words or statements, and then I need you to fold up that paper and put it in my hand".

The nurse stopped what she was doing. She wrote down what Ginette said. They were words that wouldn't really make sense to anybody, but they were important for her. The nurse folded the paper and placed it in Ginette's hand. She held it right against her chest.

By the time they wheeled her back into recovery, she'd given this paper to her mom and said "Don't lose this, I need this". She remembers having just one eye barely open.

Ginette's soul knew something crucial: if she had pain meds in her system, she would question the reality of what happened. That's why her higher self jumped in immediately to tell the nurse what she needed.

It wasn't until a day or two later, once she had no pain medication in her system, that she felt this energy saying "now is the time". She grabbed the paper, opened it, read it, and her whole experience came flooding back to her in finite detail.

Everything. The power to choose. Rewriting the next phase of her journey. The validity of what we do as souls before we come into this path. We literally sit with our counsel and we talk and we choose what are going to be the best lessons of what we need to do in this lifetime. What do we want to learn as a soul?

The Aftermath

The council's promise came true. Several things happened in rapid succession to get her on her path. It brought her to platforms where she could share her story. She wrote a book. She created outlets for consciousness, ways to help others understand what she'd learned on the other side.

And the chronic health issues? They changed, just as she'd rewritten in her blueprint. The canary in the coal mine had swapped out that fuse for one of health and wellness.

Someone once asked Ginette if she gets bored telling this story, if it becomes tedious to repeat it. Her answer: "Absolutely not". Every time she gets to share this story, not only does it hopefully inspire other people to first of all know that we do carry on, absolutely, but secondly to know how much choice goes into our experiences on a soul level for our greatest growth, but also in a human level in everything we choose to do as a result of what happens.

Every time she tells it, she's filled again with the same wonder.

You can learn more about Ginette Biro and her work helping others understand the nature of consciousness and soul planning. She's shared her experience across multiple platforms, including detailed discussions about how to change your soul's plan and what exists beyond this world.

What This Reveals

There's something profoundly important in Ginette's account, something that goes beyond the standard elements we see in near-death experiences. Yes, she encountered deceased loved ones. Yes, she experienced a life review. Yes, she felt unconditional love and peace. These are the common threads that run through thousands of NDE reports.

But Ginette's experience gives us something more: a glimpse into the mechanics of how our lives unfold, the interplay between destiny and free will that shapes every moment of our existence.

The blueprint she saw wasn't a rigid script. It was alive, that iridescent light moving back and forth along its center. And crucially, it could be changed. She pulled out the fuse of chronic illness and replaced it with health and wellness. She modified other juncture points she wouldn't consciously remember. This suggests our lives are neither completely predetermined nor entirely random. We plan certain key experiences, certain lessons we want to learn, but we retain the power to revise those plans when circumstances warrant it.

This aligns with what we see across the broader NDE literature. Experiencers frequently report that before birth, they participated in planning their lives, choosing challenges that would foster specific kinds of growth. Some describe selecting their parents, their bodies, even particular hardships they would face. But almost universally, they emphasize this planning is done with love, with purpose, and with the understanding that struggle is the crucible in which souls are refined.

Ginette's realization that every struggle she'd had, how much she'd gained and how much value that was, reflects a truth that emerges again and again in these accounts: suffering is not meaningless. It's not punishment. It's curriculum. And we are both the students and, in a sense, the designers of our own education.

The fact that she was given a choice, stay or return, with absolutely no pressure either way, tells us something beautiful about the nature of the other side. There's no judgment there, no cosmic authority demanding we fulfill some predetermined role. We're honored as autonomous beings. Our choices matter, even the choice of whether to continue living.

And perhaps most striking: the council's insistence that she wouldn't remember all the changes she made to her blueprint. Why? Possibly because knowing every detail of what's coming would undermine the very purpose of being here. We're meant to navigate uncertainty, to make choices without perfect information, to develop faith and courage and wisdom through the process of living itself. If we knew exactly how everything would unfold, we'd be actors reading a script, not souls engaged in genuine growth.

Ginette's experience also reinforces what we know about the continuity of consciousness. She didn't cease to exist when her body was under anesthesia. She became more herself, more aware, more clear. She recognized souls from previous lifetimes with the same ease she'd recognize a childhood friend. This points to a model of consciousness that's radically different from the materialist view that our minds are simply the product of neural activity.

If consciousness were produced by the brain, it should diminish or disappear when the brain is offline. Instead, Ginette's awareness expanded. She could see the detail of grass without bending down to look at it. She could perceive the farthest reaches of the universe from a council room. She could recognize souls across multiple incarnations. Her consciousness wasn't limited by her physical senses because it wasn't dependent on them.

This is the great secret these experiences keep revealing: we are not bodies that happen to be conscious. We are consciousness that happens to inhabit bodies. The body is the vehicle, the classroom, the temporary home. But it's not who we are.

And when we leave it behind, whether through death or a near-death experience, we don't diminish. We expand. We remember. We return to a state of being that feels more real, more true, more home than anything we've known in physical form.

Ginette's grandmother waiting to greet her, the gathering of souls who'd known her across lifetimes, the council who guided her with such gentleness and respect, all of this points to a reality that's deeply relational, deeply loving, deeply purposeful. We're not isolated individuals struggling through a meaningless existence. We're eternal beings, connected across time and space, learning and growing and supporting each other in an unfolding story that's far larger and more beautiful than we can grasp from our current vantage point.

The fact that she still gets choked up when she shares this story, years later, tells us something about the enduring power of these experiences. They're not memories that fade. They're encounters with a truth so fundamental, so overwhelming in its beauty and implications, that they continue to move us every time we return to them.

And perhaps that's the greatest gift of accounts like Ginette's. They remind us that death is not the end. That our struggles have meaning. That we are loved beyond measure. That we have more power to shape our lives than we realize. And that what awaits us on the other side isn't judgment or oblivion, but reunion, understanding, and a joy that's as balanced and perfect as a summer sky.

We are eternal. We are choosing. We are loved. And we are, all of us, heading home.