What
life after this is like and how to get there
ESSAY
| THE WRITER'S LIFE, THE UNIVERSE AND EVERYTHING
There's
a very simple answer to life, the universe and everything. In a funny
way, it is 42 for me. Because just as Deep Thought took 7.5
million years to work it out in The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the
Galaxy, it took me 42 years. And I'm part of the computer which Deep
Thought designed: Earth 2.0. But this isn't science fiction. This is
scientific fact. This is how I can quite reasonably explain what this
life is all about, what comes after it, and how to get there. This is
not a religious text. I've been asked to clarify my politics,
religion and general way of looking at life in the past. This is an
anarchist atheist blog entry.
I
did not have an epiphany. This is not a sudden realisation. It's
something I've formulated over the last 3-4 years. If anything, being
homeless for three years was what convinced me there was no God. Not
because I felt somehow deserving and forsaken. What happened to me
couldn't be the work of any god: I did it myself. No, it was because
I had time to think, to question, read and learn. I did this by
spending many long days in Tonbridge Library. I'd spend my allotted
hour of computer time typing up this blog, then I'd retire to the
reference section and I'd borrow books from the lending section.
Regarding what follows, further reading shouldn't be necessary but
I'd certainly recommend learning more. Firstly, let's get my atheism
and anarchism into some context:
I'm
an atheist, in that I deny 'God' in man's image. I don't deny that
the earth may have been visited by a greater intelligence, many
thousands of years ago. I would be a fool – given all that I
believe – to assume that there was no other life in the universe. I
certainly believe (hope) that there are many, far superior races out
there. The sheer size of space makes it a paradox, and upon that is
built both scientific research and blind faith. The curious explorers
who want to learn more, and those who prefer to accept what's fed to
them. I'll come back to personal utopian and dystopian worlds later,
as well as how to get there. For now, my atheism is rooted in a
desire to question and discover, not to accept as fact, that which is
unproven. I don't consider my scientific views to be in any way blind
faith.
Anarchism
next though: In the 80s, I was a punk. It was more than the music: It
was a movement and a way of life, just as Bowie became my life guide
throughout, and my musical roots go back to Kingston and the birth of
Ska, and all that true Two Tone represents. But when I was a punk, I
wore white laces in my D.Ms. At the time, that stood for Anarchy,
Peace and Freedom, where red laces were Anarchy and Chaos. But far
from the stereotypes of either portrayed in the media, there is a
deeper humanitarian nature to true anarchy, as defined by Noam
Chomsky and Ross
Ulbricht. A self-governing society can work, provided a balance
is collectively maintained. True and pure anarchy is a
redistribution of power, where power is returned to the people.
Add
the atheism, the anarchism and some weed together, and you have a
mind which can question the greater things. Being pretty extreme left
wing (in the relatively simplistic sphere of geopolitics when
compared to the universe), I seek to reconcile what I say with all
who might object, if they're prepared to have a debate and not to
fight. We may agree to differ, but by having that conversation, at
least the two parties are better able to understand one another. Only
by continuing to talk do we increase our understanding.
So
what of life, the universe and everything? I'm limited by words, just
as ancient scribes were when they recorded the events of whatever it
was which happened 2000 years ago. Religion packaged it and monetised
it, but the ancient scrolls and scripts are so open to interpretation
that it requires a leap of faith to accept any theory. All religion
did was package one version and sell it. I don't believe we know who
or what any creator might have been, how we got here, or where we
came from. It is perhaps for comfort that I choose to believe there
are other races out there in the virtual infinity of space. Consider
the size, and consider the Drake
equation, and you get an idea of how it's a paradox requiring
some faith, but no more than religion, and not packaged, other than
by those who label us conspiracy theorists. As such, we explore and
we question. We can be wrong. We desire debate from a wider
conversation, but while that label is applied, we're the freaky
geeks, the nerds, the computer programmers and hackers. In any case,
most of us wear white hats, which means the same as those boot laces
in the 80s. But at the end of any debate, I would seek to reconcile
religion with science, in the exact way Carl Sagan did in Contact.
That book and film left both sides open, for further debate, none
with a definitive answer. Contact contains one of my favourite
quotes, about humanity:
“You're
an interesting species. An interesting mix. You're capable of such
beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so
cut off, so alone, only you're not. See, in all our searching, the
only thing we've found that makes the emptiness bearable, is each
other.”
And that fits in with my
greater outlook on life, the universe, and everything. And of course,
Stephen Hawking:
“For
millions of years, mankind lived just like the animals. Then
something happened which unleashed the power of our imagination. We
learned to talk and we learned to listen. Speech has allowed the
communication of ideas, enabling human beings to work together to
build the impossible. Mankind's greatest achievements have come about
by talking, and its greatest failures by not talking. It
doesn't have to be like this. Our
greatest hopes could become reality in the future. With the
technology at our disposal, the possibilities are unbounded. All we
need to do is make sure we keep talking.”
Arthur
C. Clarke:
“Two
possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are
not. Both are equally terrifying.”
And
finally, David Bowie:
“Knowledge
comes with death's release.”
Four
great minds. Four thinkers. Four visionaries. Together, those words
and the other works of those individuals and others, are the
background for the formulation of what I like to think is a unifying
theory. I have my own philosophy:
“Imagine
you are in an empty room, with no visible means of exit. How do you
get out? You could stop imagining. Or you could use your
imagination.”
Clearly,
I chose the latter path. I think a lot, and I try to make sense of
those thoughts in my writing. I do
believe knowledge comes with death's release, I share Clarke's fear,
and I believe in communication, at all levels. That only breaks down
if I'm dealing with someone who lacks basic human instincts through
pure ignorance of their own making and perpetuating. Well, in my
theory (And backed up by scientific thought), those people are
destined to an eternal hell of their own making (see below).
A
quick digression: one of the causes I follow closely is that of
nonhuman rights. Just like (most of) us, animals are sentient beings:
They know they're alive. They sleep, and they know that there was
something before and after that; a yesterday and tomorrow, past and
future. Like humans, animals are self-determining creatures: They are
aware of actions and reactions. They have a conscience. It's that
conscience – in both humans and nonhumans – which I believe can
exist separately from the physical body. It is the soul. I believe
that the human body is just a physical vessel for that soul during
this life. I believe that life as we understand it, is merely one
part of an ongoing existence, the greatness of which we can't yet
comprehend. And I believe that once our physical bodies age and die,
our souls continue to live (and I just said 'arseholes').
A
good analogy is a TV: when it's switched off, it's just a physical
box which does nothing, unless it's switched on. Switch a TV on, and
it will show various broadcasts from the many available TV channels:
Pictures, sounds; an intangible thing. It's no longer just a physical
box; it has a life of sorts. And the human body can be thought of in
exactly the same way: a device for giving the broadcast the means of
expression, except the intangible thing in this case is the human
consciousness. Just because you switch a TV off, doesn't mean those
broadcasts stop; they're still there, but the TV needs to be on to
see them. And so, when the physical human body dies, the
consciousness - the soul - continues to live, albeit in a different
physical form. Some say that's what ghosts are, and based on the
evidence supporting the eternal human soul model, it's a perfectly
reasonable assumption. So ghosts do
exist. The dead really are
able to visit us, because they're still around. Some people find that
comforting.
And
of course, there are always caveats and paradoxes. Because 'ghosts'
or whatever we want to call the form we take in the afterlife, exist
in a form which is generally invisible and undetectable to us. It's a
simple scientific fact that there are forces of nature and physics
which challenge even the finest minds (supersolids
being one example). But for me, it's an easy and comfortable thing to
accept as fact: That when I die, my consciousness will continue to
live. In an attempt to explain how that might manifest itself to us
when we actually experience it (come the time), I need to briefly
cover quantum mechanics. For that, we need to return to the choosing
of paths from above.
Imagine
you're on a path and the path splits in two. You now have two
options: the right or left path. As I'm left-handed and left-wing,
let's say I choose the path on the left. Assume that the paths are
enclosed, by walls, trees, or whatever. So I'm walking along the left
path and I can't see outside it. Does the other path still exist?
Like the tree which falls silently in the woods and makes no sound,
this is a paradox. But it's one designed to make one think. If we
think logically, of course that other path is still there: we saw it.
But was the act of seeing it, the very thing which brought it into
existence? This is what quantum theory is all about: Everything
exists in many parallel states, only taking final form with some sort
of catalyst. Erwin
Schrödinger
demonstrated this with his thought experiment, Schrödinger's
cat:
Essentially, a box contains a cat, which may be either dead or alive.
Until the box is opened, the cat exists in both states (alive and
dead). The opening of the box is the catalyst: It makes one think.
A
real-life example of the quantum world is the 512-Qubit
D-Wave
II
quantum computer,
currently running in British Columbia, Canada. A traditional
computer, however complex and whatever device hosts it, is a binary
machine: Boil a computer down to its raw operating code and it's all
ones and zeros: either one or the other; binary. A binary bit is
always
either a 1 or a 0. A quantum
bit exists in both states simultaneously, until it is called into
operation by a computational command. The potential power of a
quantum computer is truly mind-boggling. In the quantum universe,
everything exists in parallel states, until it's called into
existence by a catalyst. At that point, all of the alternate states –
which weren't brought into existence – continue to exist. Got that?
Because that's the biggest mind hurdle, accepting such a weird fact.
There
are quantum mechanics at work in our daily lives. Every time we make
a decision – consciously or unconsciously - we call a scenario (a
universe) into existence. In the quantum world, all of the potential
universes which would have been called into existence if there was a
different catalyst, still exist. When we die, a universe is created
in which our dead physical body exists, and where some may mourn and
others celebrate. But at the same time, alternatives exist. At the
point of death, unable to continue the path of the physical body, our
consciousness will find itself in a different universe: One which
existed at the moment of death, but which couldn't be occupied by the
physical body we just lost. It's a simple matter of (and as easy to
imagine as) one set of options being switched off. Scientific fact:
Life doesn't just end. This is not just a comforting thought to
combat that of eternal nothingness; it's science. We only know all
this now, because we're able to observe things at a sub-atomic level
(and it wasn't long ago that the holy grail was splitting the atom).
So
when we die, we take on a different physical form: Think of it as
some sort of ethereal, spiritual thing, because that's the easiest
way. In that non-physical form, we are free to move around, without
limits or borders. And free of our frail human bodies, we are also
free from the ravages of time, and what that can do to age a physical
thing. We (our consciousness, or our soul), are effectively immortal.
And this is where I'm able to posit a unifying theory on heaven and
hell, because quantum
theory proves that consciousness moves to another universe after
death
(other links, here).
I
write not of the biblical heaven and hell, but of personal ones. We
can now appreciate, that after death, we continue to exist. In that
form, we have freedom of movement and time. Roughly translated, there
is an entire universe to explore, and an eternity in which to do it.
Faced with that, how might some of us react? I'd suggest that the
open-minded and curious would find themselves in a personal utopia (I
know I would). But to anyone conditioned, blinkered, limited by
belief, or just dumb and ignorant, faced with all that potential
knowledge, it could be overwhelming: A personal hell; fear of the
unknown for eternity. You only have to think of the people you know,
to be fairly sure of who's going where. It's not wholly down to them
being a good or bad person; it's down to how their mind deals with
such a huge thing. It takes a level of intelligence and an open mind
to accept these things, but not much.
Ancient
aliens from distant galaxies aside, there's no white haired, bearded
old man; there's just all of knowledge. Personally, although I fear
the process of death itself, I don't fear what comes after.
So
now we have multiple quantum universes, hanging in limbo, all around,
just waiting to be called into existence. All that aren't,
still exist, in the past and present. We just can't see them. We're
not aware of many of them in our current physical form. So how do we
go exploring? We now move onto lucid dreaming. A
lucid
dream
is a dream
during
which the dreamer is aware of dreaming. During lucid dreaming, the
dreamer may be able to exert some degree of control over the dream
characters, narrative, and environment.
At
some point before reading this, you'll have woken from sleep today.
You remember being awake yesterday, because you're a sentient,
self-determining being. You remember that you've slept and what you
remember of that, is down to your ability to dream and recall those
dreams. And every day, we remember waking from sleep, and being awake
before that. The part we never remember, is that actual moment
of transit: Passing from wakefulness into sleep. As soon as you wake,
you know you've been asleep, and you remember being awake before you
slept. But you cannot remember falling asleep. That's where we go to
catch dreams, and there's a way to do it, but it takes a lot of
practice.
Lucidity
is a sort of semi-conscious state, somewhere between conscious and
unconscious, but where the subject is aware of their surroundings.
Lucid dreaming is simply taking control of one's dreams. It involves
being able to recognise, in sleep, when one is actually asleep. It's
quite literally, being in a dream and being able to say to oneself,
'I am dreaming'. The trick is not waking yourself up.
There
are many books on the subject, and most teach the methods (mind
control) which help to achieve lucidity. There are many suggested
ways, and the one which eventually worked for me was this (and
Exploring
the World of Lucid Dreams, by Stephen LaBerge Ph.D and Howard
Rheingold):
As
you lay in bed at night, become aware of your surroundings.
Concentrate on your thoughts, and keep telling yourself that you're
falling asleep. Eventually and naturally, you will. And like most
people, most of the time, you'll miss that moment when you pass over
and actually fall asleep. The next thing you may be aware of, is that
you're dreaming. It's a fact, that the last thing on your mind as you
fall asleep will remain there. With a lot of practice (it took me
about six months), you'll eventually have a eureka moment: A moment
when you realise – in your sleep – that you are dreaming. You are
now lucid. As such, you are free to move around as you please, as you
are no longer constrained by your body (it's asleep, like the TV
set). The first time it happened to me, I looked from the bed where I
lay, at the sofa in my living room, which was up a short flight of
steps. I don't know if steps are called a 'flight' and the bit at the
top, the 'landing' for this reason, but taking it literally, I
decided to fly up the steps to my sofa. And so, in my dream, I stood,
Superman-like, and thrust my fist out ahead of me. And I flew. And I
got so excited that I woke up. This went on for several weeks.
Eventually,
after almost a year in total, I was generally able to lucid dream at
will. For a while, I resisted the urge to fly, as I didn't want the
euphoria to wake me. A bit of a warning here: You may find yourself
(as I did), living a life which seems like a long day which never
ends. Because being awake and asleep become so alike (apart from
being able to to anything and everything in the latter state), it can
sometimes feel like you're never sleeping. It doesn't get physically
exhausting, because you are sleeping, or at least your
physical body is. But it can get disconcerting. It is a completely
new way of living, after all.
Once
you're in control of your dreams, the limit is quite literally your
imagination. And that dream scape you're exploring can be the
universe. So, every night, you're experiencing a little of what it'll
be like when you're finally freed of your physical body. For now, you
can only do it when you're asleep. In that place, time and space act
differently. There are other dimensions. It's a lot to take on board
and you can see why it would take an eternity to discover it all.
Knowledge
comes with death's release.
So
that's how I live my life. People asked, so I told: I'm a writer.
My
first novel, The
Paradoxicon,
was a semi-autobiographical story of a man seeking answers through
lucid dreaming, while battling his own demons in the space between
wakefulness and sleep. My latest novel, Cyrus
Song,
gives a more humorous skew on things (with talking animals), but
nevertheless answers the ultimate question: That of life, the
universe and everything. There really is an even simpler answer.
Comments
Post a Comment