We've all had that burning question, and yet it seems impossible for anyone to come up with the answers - while we don't have the answers fully, we do seem to grow a little more day by day. I ran into this little ditty while on my searches for a higher understanding. While some may not agree, this is an interesting take on life and none can deny this. As we all know we should stop and listen, stop to learn and grow. I hope you enjoy and gain a higher line of thinking from it.
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What…What happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…” you blurted out somewhat confused and startled.
“Yep,” I said.
“I… I died?” you questioned, well rather exclaimed still trying to figure it out.
“Yep, but don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I stated.
“You looked around. There was nothing. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you God?” You asked.
“Yep,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?” I replied.
“Will they be all right?” You questioned.
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you really are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there is no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?” you asked.
“Oh, lots. Lots and lots. And in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess, technically.” I said scratching my head. “Time as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point. Right?”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know its happening.” I stated.
“So what’s the point of it all?” You asked.
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it is a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?” I questioned.
“No,” I said. “Just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there is just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…” you muttered.
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?” You said really confused.
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?” you stated scratching your head.
“Or who will ever live, yes.” I stated smiling.
“I’m Abraham Lincoln,” you said.
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.” I laughed
“I’m Jesus?” You questioned.
“And you’re everyone who follows him.” I stated
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimize someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me.” “Why do all this?” You questioned with great curiosity.
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.” I stated.
“Whoa,” you said, in extreme deep thought and slightly overwhelmed. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.” I said calmly.
“So the whole universe,” you said “It’s just…”
“An egg.” I Interrupted. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.