A Tale About ‘Reincarnation’
*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 kids. It was a painless death. The paramedics 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, where am I? There was this truck… and it was skidding. I… I… did I die? you asked – “You died,” I said, matter-of-factly, but don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” You looked around. “What is this place, is this the afterlife?” – “More or less,” I said. “Are you god?” – “Yup, I’m God.”
“My wife and kids… what about them, will they be alright?” – “Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. 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.”
“What happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?” – “Neither,” I said, “You’ll be reincarnated “So what’s the point then? When I get reborn, I’ll 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. Your soul is more magnificent and beautiful than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. You haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated then?” – “Oh lots and lots” 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.”
“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?” You said.
“The reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.” – “You mean mankind don’t you? You want us to mature?” – “No, just you. I made the whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become larger and greater.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?” – “There is no one else. In this universe there’s just you and me.” You stare blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…” – “All different incarnations of you.” – “Wait, I’m everyone!?” – “Now you’re getting it,” I said. “I’m every human being that ever lived?” – “Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Hitler?” you said, appalled – “And you’re the millions he killed.” “I’m Jesus?” – “And everyone who followed him.” You fell silent. “Every time you victimize someone, 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. “But why do all this?” – “Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of a kind. You’re my child.” – “Whoa,” you said incredulously. “You mean I’m a god?” – “No, not yet. You’re a foetus. You’re still growing.”
“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.” And I sent you on your way…
Dan’s Quote: “You are the only one here in your own personal universe…
______________A world where you play all the parts.
*Note: This is a version of ‘THE EGG’ – A Tale For Deep Thinkers: By Andy Weir.
It has been edited and summarized to suit my blog style.
You can CLICK HERE to view his original transcript.
Header: Beautiful one day perfect the next. Brisbane, Queensland, Australia.
Posted on December 5, 2014, in RefleXions and tagged Conscious Awareness, Enlightenment, Philosophy, Spirituality. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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