Life after life

Life, as we know it plays out in space and time. And so, here I am. I’m not sure where really. My initial thought is here in this chair which seems accurate enough. However, this chair is somewhere as well, for example, in this room, and since I am sitting in this chair, I suppose I am there too. Pushing further, I believe that this room is somewhere also, that is, in this house. It follows that I must be there too. By induction then, it seems that I am everywhere, at least in my world.

If I am everywhere perhaps its possible I am every-when.  I believe the above logic applied to my experience of time might get me close to a proof. But for now I shall explore this ground on intuition alone. My sense is that I go on and on in time through many events including births and deaths. Time flows by and around me as todays become yesterdays and tomorrows become todays. If I was there then and that was a now; and I am here now which will soon be a then; it seems I must be every-when, at least in my world.

I happen to be here for now, not eternity, just now. Eternity seems incredibly long and overwhelming and now seems such a pointy, fleeting and moving thing. I wonder if I might get sucked into eternity if I focus too hard on the now?  But, if we string enough nows together, we may end up with an eternity.

So why all of this do you suppose? Well, it’s clear; we’re here. You and I are in these bodies until they give out. In order to live we need a framework; and space and time is it. Then you say; what about after life? Then what?

One answer I’ve heard is that we go somewhere and bask for all eternity. The problem is; what might we do there in perpetuity? Sing and dance? Write poetry? Live? No, unfortunately if we experience birth or death in this scenario then we have a violation. These two activities are not allowed in the basking-for-all-eternity idea. It’s clear we can’t do things that might be construed as living.

Why leave where you are and retreat to God-knows-where; especially if there is little to do there? Who knows? One might actually qualify for a “doing nothing” program. Perhaps doing nothing is prescribed if we are already perfect. Or perhaps doing nothing is ok if we are very tired and need a long break. Do you suppose though, we could be content retiring for all time, eating grapes, drinking wine, talking, or playing the lute? One might find these tasks a bit tedious after a few thousand minutes, months or millennia—never mind forever.

Without a doubt I could enjoy such activities for a while. However, eventually I would seek to experience more; to learn new things about myself and the universe, and this would involve living, and life after life is called reincarnation. Does personal growth through living many lives make sense? Or does lingering for an eternity seem more plausible?