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.

BRAVO!

Even though I am a pretty radical atheist and anti-theist, I do enjoy pondering life’s greater questions and even hoping for things like an afterlife or a loving god (not that fucked up asshole from the Bible). I think I like this story so much because it really does present a point of view and a possibility that is quite refreshing. Contrary to what many theists believe, most skeptics are not closed minded. Skeptics and atheists are some of the most open minded and free thinking people you’ll meet. We just don’t accept things on faith. We’ll believe anything if there’s a logical reason to believe it. Believing things based on nothing but faith is not open minded… it’s dumb. Being an atheist doesn’t stop us from dreaming and wanting and yearning for the supernatural to be real.

Being an atheist does not stop one from having a wide eyed sense of wonder.

Atheists can be spiritual. It doesn’t really seem to make sense, but it’s true. We may not think we’re connecting to any kind of supernatural being or force, but we can feel connected. Science is, by far, more interesting, fascinating, and beautiful than anything believed by theists or new-agers. I don’t think there is a better example of how awe-inspiring the actual universe and its laws are than COSMOS.

I love Carl Sagan. He had one of the most beautiful minds in the world and created the greatest and most emotionally powerful pro-science films ever. If you have not experienced Cosmos… go watch it. The passion he has for the topics he discusses is contagious. You can see and hear it throughout the entire series.

And remember… I love you!

And the wedding! Oh boy! We’ve been doing so much to get ready for it… I just want it to get here so I can relax and enjoy the company of my new wife and tons of friends and family. Wow… still can’t get over how different it feels this time. When I got married before, I did it because I thought I had to… Now, I am getting married because I want to. Hell yeah.

In other news, I’ve started reading my wonderfully immoral ESV study bible again. I last left off right after poor Samson got his hair chopped off and am starting back up at Matthew. Wait… what? Yeah… I’m ditching the rest of the Old Testament. It was boring, and most “Christians” today don’t even pay attention to it (except for the hating on gays part). Anyway… I will probably come back to it eventually, but for now… it’s time for Jesus!

Ya know… I do that a lot. Quit things and then start up again and then quit and then start up again. Over and over. It’s cyclical. For example, I read every single book that Mark Twain wrote in about 6 months. I couldn’t put em down! But after that… nothing. No books of any kind for about a year. Then I started reading Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. for another 6 months. Delicious, literary goodness. Then… nothing. Bah. So it goes. Yeah… same thing is happening with Yelp. I wrote a bunch of reviews and then just kind of stopped. I love writing reviews… I just can’t find the motivation as of late. I have found that if I just wait it out, my drive will eventually come back. Yeah.

Hmm… just got the sudden urge to start playing World of Warcraft again. I really did a good job of not getting addicted last time, and quitting was super easy. Maybe after the wedding. Maybe…