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Blog : Death : End or Beginning ?

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  Dec 11, 2020         1822

Death : End or Beginning ?


  • You were on your way home when you died. A car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal, nevertheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The paramedics did everything they could to save you, but it was no use. Your body was so terribly broken that it's better that way, believe me... And then you found me.
  • "Then... what happened," you asked. "Where am I?
  • You are dead," I said, in an emotionless tone. No need to beat around the bush.
  • Was there... a truck? A skid..."
  • Yes," I said. "Yes," I said.
  • "I am... Am I dead? Am I dead?
  • Yes. But don't worry. Everybody dies," I said.
  • You looked around. I looked around. An extension of nothing. Just you and me. "What is this place?" you asked. "Is this heaven?" you asked. "Is this heaven?
  • More or less," I said.
  • Are you God?" you asked.
  • Yes," I said, "I am God.
  • "My children... my wife," you said.
  • Yes, well, what?
  • Will they be all right?
  • That's what I like to see," I said. "You just died, and your first concern is your family. That's good, I like that.
  • You looked at me with fascination. I didn't look like a God to you. Just an ordinary man. Or a woman. An example of authority, perhaps, more like a teacher than an Almighty.
  • Don't worry," I said, "they'll be fine. Your children will remember you as perfect in every way. They have not had time to develop a contempt for you. Your wife will cry, to be sure, but deep down she will be secretly relieved. To be honest, your marriage was falling apart. If it's any consolation, she'll feel very guilty about being relieved.
  • Oh," you said. "What now? Am I going to heaven, or am I going to hell, or what?"
  • Neither one nor the other," I said. "You're going to be reincarnated.
  • Ah," you said. "Then the Hindus were right!"
  • All religions are right, in their own way," I said, "Come on, let's walk.

  • You followed me as we walked through the void.
  • Nowhere in particular," I said, "it's nice to walk while we talk.
  • So what's the point, then?" you asked. "When I'm born again, I'll be like a blank slate, won't I? A baby. And then all my experiences and everything I've done in this life won't matter anymore.
  • You have within you all the knowledge, all the experience of all your past lives. You just don't remember it now, that's all."
  • I stopped walking and grabbed you by the shoulders. "Your soul is greater, more beautiful, more gigantic than anything you can imagine. A human mind can never contain more than a small part of what you are. It's like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it's hot or cold. You put a little piece of yourself in it, and when you take it out, you take out all the experiences it had."
  • You have been in a human for the last 48 years, so you have not yet gone to bed to feel the rest of your immense consciousness. If we stayed here long enough, you would begin to remember everything. But there's no point in doing that between lives.
  • How many times have I been reincarnated, then?
  • Oh, many of them. A lot, a lot, a lot. And in many, many different lives. I said. "This time you will be a little peasant girl in China in 540 B.C.
  • "Wait, what?", you stuttered. "You're sending me back in time?"
  • Well, yes, technically, I guess. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.
  • Where are you from, you said.
  • Oh, of course," I explained, "I'm from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you'd like to know what it's like out there, but honestly you wouldn't understand.
  • Oh," you said, a little disappointed. "But wait. If I reincarnate myself at other times, I may have interacted with myself at times.
  • Of course. It happens all the time. And as in each of your lives, you are only aware of your own existence, you don't even know what is happening.
  • So what's the point?
  • Really?" I asked. "Really? You're asking me to explain the meaning of life? Doesn't that sound a little cliché?
  • Okay, but it was a reasonable question," you insisted.
  • I looked into your eyes. "The meaning of life, the reason I created this whole universe, is because you are growing.
  • Do you want humanity to mature?
  • No, just you. I created this universe only for you. With each life you grow, you become more mature, and your intellect expands, it expands.
  • Just me? But then, everyone else?"
  • There's no one else," I said, "in this universe, it's just you and me.
  • You stared at me. "But all the other people on earth...
  • All of you. Different incarnations of you."
  • Wait... I'm everybody!"
  • Ah, there, you are beginning to understand," I said, punctuating my sentence with a pat on the back.
  • Am I all the human beings that have ever existed?
  • Or it will be, yes.
  • Am I Abraham Lincoln?
  • And you're John Wilkes Booth too," I said.
  • "Am I Hitler?" you said, horrified.
  • And you are the millions he killed.
  • Am I Jesus?
  • And you are the ones who have followed him
  • You were silent.
  • Every time you victimized someone," I said, "you victimized yourself. Every act of kindness you did, you did it to yourself. Every happy or sad moment that a human being has experienced has been, or will be, experienced by you.
  • You were pensive for a long time.
  • "Why?" you said. "Why are you doing all this?"
  • Because one day you will become someone like me. Because that's what you are. You are one of my people, my son.
  • "Wow", you said, in disbelief. "You mean I'm a god?"
  • No. Not yet. You are a fetus. You are still growing. Once you have lived each human life all the time, you will be old enough to be born."
  • So the whole universe," you said, "that's just...
  • One egg. I said, "Come on, it's time for you to move on to your next life.
  • And I sent you on your way.
(Text from Andy Weir)