the Egg

The Egg

You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a husband 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-factually. 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 husband,” 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 husband will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, he’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.

 

everytime you were victimized ... then what ?

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Thu_eiBdG_Y"]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Thu_eiBdG_Y

 

Wow, just whoa!

 

Bravo! Fabulous!!!!!!!!

 

and next thing I need to ask, is..."Can I have your autograph?"

 

and next thing I need to ask, is..."Can I have your autograph?"

 

Anax, why the pout? Did I say or do somthing wrong?

 

Oh boy! I can't wait to be a God and watch another budding lifeform torture and brutalize itself for a million billion years. Will there be popcorn? I hope I can run all the holocaust lives consecutively, "Oh man, here comes number 5289456, this one's going to be great. Ahh yeah, I remember the time I holocausted myself 6.5 million times once. Tisk, tisk, the things we do for enlightenment... Oh well, FAP FAP FAP...".

 

Eco-situations are basically undecided to the presence to the mind of the eco-system they exist time for the Progress of health. I.E. eco-system~= eco-situation of justice. Looking for the allergy I am allergic to by you.

 

This old egg story is just more religious apologetic excuses why bad things happen, "God jerks in mysterious ways"... "there's nothing we can do about this world, just have faith we'll move on to better things... bla bla bla, just say a prayer and stick your head in the sand...".

 

It would actually be interesting if it hadn't already been posted on the forums about 326,557,112 times.

 

What's the point? Is this a claim about metaphysical reality, a parable, or just "something to think about" like The Matrix? How do we know we aren't brains in a jar, or specimens in some alien kid's ant farm?

 

Wasn't this just a story?

 

Occam's razor

 

I'm still partial to my Woody Allen theory: that we're all virtual reality characters in an avant guard tragi-comedic theater of the absurd, with God as Woody Allen (no blasphemy intended) in a beret seated in the director's chair, playing to a cosmic audience who will leave the theater scratching their heads.

 

Well, then pardon my ignorance....
I just thought it was a well written piece. Never saw it before, so.....excuse me....thought the starter of this thread wrote it, too....LOL

 

everytime you victimized me , i asked , was i praying ?

 

Yeah, so was the last temptation of Christ, but the inspiration there was suddenly "Jesus Christ having no goal in life". But Hegel says otherwise to both of that. I thought the story was provocative.

 

I copy pasted it from some other place.. I didn't see this posted on these forums!

I always get goosebumps when I read it.

Peace!!