Life and Death–a myth

Tonight I go for a walk with the Lord. We walk in a cemetery speaking in low tones out of respect for the dead.”Lord, Who is buried here?” I ask.

“You,”  He replies.

“Me?”

“Yes, beneath each stone lies either a you that was, or a you that might have been. An infinite number, do you understand?”

“I think so.”

He stops walking. “Tell me what you understand,” he commands.

“Well,” I begin coming to a halt beside him. “In each instant of time there is a me. The person that I was an instant before is gone. Of all the possibilities that could have grown from who I was, only one came into being. In moving from one instant into the next, the past was as well as all its potentialities save one must die.”

“A partial truth, but close enough,” the Lord observes. “So, death is no stranger to you is it?”

“No Lord, I have died innumerable times in order to be who I am. Indeed I am dying right now so that my future can be born.”

“And does that future exist?”

“Only in the sense that I existed before my parents were born.”

“Is it real?” he continues.

“I don’t know.”

“Is it real?”

“I will show you,” I say with a smile.

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