The Egg – A short story of life and death.

I normally don’t publish others’ work, but this short story brought tears to my eyes. I hope it does the same to you.

By: Andy Weir

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…”

“Yup,” I said.

“I… I died?”

“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”

“More or less,” I said.

“Are you god?” You asked.

“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”

“My kids… my wife,” you said.

“What about them?”

“Will they be all right?”

“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 all 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 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’s no point to doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”

“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An 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. 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.”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”

“So what’s the point of it all?”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”

“Well it’s 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?”

“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”

“Just me? What about everyone else?”

“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”

You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”

“All you. Different incarnations of you.”

“Wait. I’m everyone!?”

“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I’m every human being who ever lived?”

“Or who will ever live, yes.”

“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”

“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

You fell silent.

“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever 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?”

“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”

“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “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.”

“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”

“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”

What if reality and dreams are reversed?

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Just a question to all out there. I was sitting here earlier, and thinking to myself. What if when you die, you wake up? This took me to another question I pondered. What if the reality that you live is a dream, and when you sleep, and go into your dreams, that is the real reality of your being?

That is to say, we “wake up” every morning, from our sleep, and dreams to our “reality”. But what if this “reality” is actually a dream, fictitious, not real. So we wake up, live our mundane lives, do our mundane jobs, and tasks. When we go back to bed, and drift into sleep, and begin our “dreams” – that, those dreams are our lives – we just don’t remember when we come back into our “reality” what we “dreamt/lived”. Kind of like how it is hard to remember your dreams.

Does this make sense to anyone?

Breaks

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Recently, I took a little trip out of the city, actually out of the country to get away with a friend. My life at home had not been the best, with constant worry about my wife, my newborn and an over possessing mother in law. She had been living with us for about 5 months now, with my newly born son, and things were, lets say, getting to me.

I just needed to get away, not from my responsibilities, but needed a break from the house environment. I went away with a friend, if only for 3 days, and now back, I do feel completely refreshed. Mind you, the mother in law is now back at her home, which I would be lying, if i didn’t say, helps. Regardless though, it got me thinking of why breaks away, in general are beneficial for every person.

This is more of an explorative post, rather than the traditional ramblings of your one and only. I know why breaks can be important, but why does it still help, when you can still come back to the same situation, yet feel different, maybe less irritated then when you left? Should it not be the same? Suppose not! Perhaps you’ve broken the negative energy in which you created the atmosphere of when you were in those negative moods. Perhaps the break, literally breaks you of those energies and tendencies – brings you back more neutral, and ready to take it on.

I’d love to hear some comments on what breaks have done for you!

The Arrogance of the Intellect & Satisfying Need.

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I remember once, I was watching a Yogi. He was an older man, with a long white beard, an orange turban on his head, the his eyes teemed with galactic wisdom. He had said something very inspirational. A questioner from the audience had asked “is there a difference between being smart, and being wise?” The Yogi responded by saying that there was a very big difference between someone who was smart, and someone who was wise. “Don’t fool yourself of mixing these two things together.”

A smart or intellectual person is not necessarily smart. Essentially, what is smart? It is the simple process of being about to regurgitate information. It is simply someone who is able to revalidate information that is already there. There is a difference between being  wise and creative, and an intellect who can recycle information.

I myself, have met these intellectuals in my personal life at times. Let me tell you one thing, it is sometimes painful to be in their company. Perhaps it is the over confidence of their personalities, or the ability to spew and recycle irrelevant information, or the lack of social interaction and fluidness. It isn’t social at all, and there seems to be nothing humble about the atmosphere.

Nonetheless, I think it is important for us to remember the intellect, and its boundaries. Do not let yourself get too high on the intellectual throne. Not everything in life is logical, and therefore, lets make sure we look at the emotional, and spiritual side of every situation, and not let intellectually inclusivity rule.

I was recently watching a video, called “Jordan Peterson – The Arrogance of The Intellect” I’ll link it here. You don’t have to watch the whole thing, although its only 6 minutes long, but if you are wise, just listen to the first minute of the video. The guy literally starts by asking this psychology professor “The issue that I face is that I have a very high need for intellectual stimulation, and I cant get that from most people…how should i address this?”

God Damn.

When I heard these words, I began to think immediately “what an asshole”. But that’s just my mind trying to label people and put something back into its place, on something I don’t personally agree with.

First of all, this idea of a very high need for intellectual stimulation is driven by the person that needs it. I think the whole question or proposal can be broken apart just from his first sentence. Can we begin by asking ourselves, what is this need someone may have? What is this need to be around and socialize with other intellectuals. Why is it so high? And perhaps the ultimate question, who is cultivating this need? It is the person himself. Why must there be a high need to be stimulated from one aspect of life, for this instance, the utter need to be around intellectual or smart people, who can carry on longer conversations about specific topics than the rest?

This is the problem. This individual has, over time, created an unbalanced need, an almost addictive need, to be constantly stimulated by one thing. That’s like literally what society has done over the last decade, creating the humans need to be constantly around technology, your phones, tabs, cpus, social medias, and etc. That’s like literally me saying. “So the issue i am facing is that i have this high need for technological stimulation, and most technology just doesn’t do it for me….what do you suggest i do?”

How about minimizing that specific need? Human need is un-ending. This is human nature. It will not be satisfied in this way. The wise will understand this – not the intellectual. As always the answers will always lay within you, not outside of you. There is no solution that is external, but only internal that will truly satisfy you on a kosmik scale.