The Egg, by Andy Weir

The Egg, 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.”

And I sent you on your way.

______________________________________

 

 

Read more about Andy Weir here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Egg_(short_story)

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Time moves on

The longest day of the year has just passed and the full moon will shine this weekend. The sky is still light with a multitude of blue, purple and pink hues and time still rolls on. 

But we are just specks in existence, our own importance so tiny in the bigger scheme of things.

 

Written content is © All rights are reserved. June 2010.

Seek, see, love and do

A beautiful friend of mine found the following on Facebook and linked me to it… I think she could tell how fully I can relate, and I love her all the more for knowing my soul inside out:

I would rather pass my days lying in the middle of dirt roads, staring at the full moon with a bottle of summer red in my palms.

I would rather have kids when it suits me, not when society expects or throws shoulds.

I would rather live in a hammock on a beach for six months, and write like my soul means it.

I would rather be horribly broke at times, than married to a job because a mortgage payment has my ass on a hook.

I would rather own moments, than investments.

I would rather swim naked with bio-luminescence, have it fall like fireflies from my hair, my breasts, my back.

I would rather do handstands naked in the moonlight when no one’s watching than pick bridesmaid dresses.

I would rather drink seven year old rum from a sandy bottle, smell of smoke and ash than sit in church.

I would rather learn from life than rack up debt, in a desk.

I would rather drink the ocean, again and again—celebrate being madly alive.

I would rather my love be defined by love itself, and nothing more or less.

I would rather take the chicken bus, than spend useless money in safe gated communities. Sit beside a goat, listen to raggaeton and eat green mango with sugar in a plastic bag sold from the woman who harasses the bus each time it stops.

I do not need a degree to prove that I am intelligent.

I do not need to own a piece of earth with some wood on top of it—to feel successful. No one truly owns the land, anyway—we just think we do.

I will take a job I love and freedom over a pension, any day.

I will not work and work and work to live when my body is old and I am tired.

Stocks are for people who get boners from money.

Not everyone should have kids, and my eggs aren’t expiring.

I will not drink the societal Kool-Aid on a bus, nor will I drink it on a train.

Not on a plane, with a goat, in the rain, in the dark, in a tree, with a fox, in a box!

I will not jump through societies’ hoops and red tape, the treasure hunt in the rat race we chase.

If we must have milestones—mine will be measured by how much joy I have collected at the end of each day and how often in this life I have truly, deeply, opened.

Seek, see, love, do.

– Janne Robinson, Author

More on Janne here: https://www.facebook.com/jannerobinsonauthor/ and here: http://www.jannerobinson.com/

What an inspiring woman! 🙂 Thanks Janne!

DNA journeys – and how we are all connected

On the subject of “we are one“, this video clip made me well up – we really are all immigrants, and there is no better way to prove it than through DNA test analysis.

Please take a moment to appreciate this truly beautiful insight into human DNA and migration across our little planet called Earth.

When Strangers Meet

#onelove #peace #weareone

Inspirational women: Mary “Mother” Jones, 1830-1930

I saw one quote from Mary “Mother” Jones, and I had to read more on this amazing woman, especially as I feel that I can relate very much to the quote:

“I am an organizer, an agitator and an aggravator. I act because I love humanity.”

Mary Harris “Mother” Jones, 1905

Some of her other quotes are pretty damn motivating as well, and you can see how she could have riled up the authorities with her opinions and “fight not flight” attitude to life:

http://www.motherjonesmuseum.org/information/quotes/

For more info on Mary “Mother” Jones:

http://www.biography.com/people/mother-jones-9357488#synopsis

http://www.motherjonesmuseum.org/

It is wonderful to know that there are so many inspiring ladies in history – it just takes one a bit longer to find them, as they are not celebrated quite so much as men.

After all, it is said that, “History is written by the victors” – and men have been the “victors” for a couple thousand years now.

I believe it’s time to give men a break, let them take a back seat, and put their legs up – learn to meditate and understand that they do not need to be aggressive or preempt aggression with aggression.

#wishfulthinking

Note: I am completely aware that not all men are of the same ilk, or women for that matter… I am making a generalisation based on the majority of incidents throughout history.

Enjoying a winter wonderland

Where have I been the last couple of months?

Well, I am not going to kid myself and say that there has been anyone who reads this blog who has actually thought that, but I’d like to stroke my own ego for a moment…

I have actually been all over the place, and really didn’t get a moment to update my blog at all, so thought I would show you a photo, portraying how wonderful one of the experiences was:

20170117_142411
#nofilter #noedit

 

Unless you have been husky mushing, you have no idea of the beautiful calm that descends upon you as you ride in silence, icy winds trying to find cracks in your clothes, and the jingle of the harnesses as you are swept along a frozen lake covered in crisp, clean snow.

Breathtaking. Beautiful. Awe-inspiring. Meditative. Majestic.

A few words that ran through my head on the back of that sled, though in reality, all I could think of was… nothing.

I can’t tell you how at peace I felt. It was like being at the top of a mountain, with no one around, and all you can hear is the sound of silence, the wind gently racing past your ears.

I am blessed. Thank you Sweden for remaining a wilderness in this never ending globalisation of our wee planet. Thank you, Mother Earth – thank you, so much.

#love #light #laughter #peace