Faith
When we consider the possibility of life after death, we are usually drawn to religious teachings. But is eternal life, or continued existence, purely a domain for religion?
Sure, it seems religion holds the most vocal advocates of an afterlife. There isn’t a belief system that I know of that doesn’t offer the promise of some kind of existence beyond this earthly plane. Admittedly, my musings are based only of nearly five decades of being on the planet – I haven’t conducted any in-depth research into the matter.
But why should only the devout be allowed the privilege to believe (hope?) in a continuing experience after this mortal coil has been shuffled off?
Please bear with me as I get scientific. In physics, we learn that energy can be neither destroyed nor created, it can only be transferred into another form of energy. Hold a ball out at arm’s length. The ball, unmoving, is filled with potential energy. Release the ball and watch if drop. As the ball falls, some of the potential energy is turning into kinetic energy. When the ball hits the floor, small amounts of heat and sound are released. (It’s been years since I was in the classroom so I can only guess these are thermal and sonic energies. I’m sure you can check Google to correct me.) Now the ball, once again motionless, contains only potential energy, though a lesser amount than at the beginning of this experiment. (And who said science couldn’t be fun?)
I’ll spare you maths (or math, if you’re reading this outside the UK) involved because a) I don’t want to bore you too much, b) I can’t remember off the top of my head and c) it’s not required for the remainder of my rambling.
So if something as mundane as a ball, or a pencil, or the anvil over Wile Coyote’s head, has the ability to change its energy, what about us? Yes, our bodies will undergo the same energy transformations if we were to be dropped from arm’s length, but what about our souls or our minds? (Note: for this argument, I am using ‘mind’ to describe the intangible space in which our conscious thoughts play out, not the grey pulp that rests within our skulls.)
Surely our souls or our ethereal minds have some form of energy which current science has not yet been able to identify and label. They are part of what makes us unique. At the point that our earthly bodies give up the ghost (terrible pun, I know, but I couldn’t help myself) and our souls/minds are no longer tethered to our physical beings, what happens to the energy they are comprised of?
I posit that this spiritual energy is transferred into some other form of energy, thus suggesting the possibility of life, of some sort, after death. While this thought subscribes to no specific religion, it nonetheless provides me with comfort.
The scariest thing I have ever heard was this simple counter argument to my above rationale.
I discussed it with an atheist work colleague and she said, ‘At death our bodies’ energy convert into chemical energy.’ In essence, we become worm food.
I could not deny the scientific basis of her comment and I was shook to the core for days. Had my years of believing in an afterlife been foolish and in vain? After all, I cannot prove I have a soul or a mind. Am I destined, once the final breath leaves my body, to just cease existing?
On the one hand, that is nothing to worry about because when it happens I will not have the ability to care, or even be aware, that I no longer exist. On the other hand, it makes for long, hard days before that time. What is the point of my existence? What use am I? Why should I even get out of bed on a morning?
So I decided that I choose to believe in my soul and my mind. Yes, my body will nourish the earth when I am gone, but my thoughts and my love will move on to another realm. I opted for this train of thought even though I have no evidence to back up this argument – which is when I truly understood what faith is.