When I was 10, it me.
I couldn't sleep because I was afraid of a question.
My dad often had to sit next to me for me to fall asleep – thanks dad!
What happens to us after we die?
Of course, the weird thing was that I hadn't actually been around for that long. But from an early age, I would wake up early and jump out of bed because I was so excited about simply being alive – the love from my creatures, the beauty of the landscape, and of course, the human drama!
Don't get me wrong, it was not perfect – paradise actually isn't a vacation when you live there full-time – but the world that I got to inhabit was still so much richer and more beautiful and more complex than it needed to be – if it was just for me.
The idea of not being here deeply frightened me, and on many nights, I would wake up in terror feeling all alone – until, a few minutes later, I realized that I still had my whole life ahead of me.
Fortunately, modern life had a few other questions that kept me preoccupied so I could avoid thinking about the big question.
- How to Make Great Love?Starting from my teens
- What Work to Do?Starting from my 20s
- How to Slow Down Time?Starting from my 30s
- How to Like Being Papa?Starting from my 40s
And then one sweet day, I turned 40.
And suddenly, without warning, I was statistically closer to my death than I was to my birth. Not having a serious answer to the big question was not good enough.
This was also when I started wearing speedos, perhaps as a sign of denial of my aging, thick body. I had been sleeping so well until then. Must be the Danish-designed percale sheets.
So, um, what happens to us after we die?Do you know?
Will I learn the secrets of the universe?Did I meet my wife in a past life?
Will I get to meet God?What will she smell like?
… or does it all just end, into the big, empty, boring void?This is by far the worst-case scenario. Give me some secrets at least!
I think deep down, I've always wanted to believe that there is something that awaits us after we die.
Deep down, I've always wanted to believe our story didn't just begin with our birth and that it doesn't just end with the natural expiration of our bodies.
Deep down, I want to believe that there is a part of me – in all of us – that is boundless and timeless, able to transcend the limits of our bodies, senses and selves.
Deep down, I want to believe that there is meaning to all this – not just to my singular life or those around me, but to our species, to this planet, and to the great story that we are all a small part of.
All of this I want to believe, and perhaps we all want to believe — but how will I, or we, ever truly know?
What no one tells you is that most of us are terrified of death.
In many societies, we have kept the reality of death far from everyday life. Bodies are separated quickly and funerals are abrupt affairs.
What no one tells you is that we ask the big questions not because of a shortcoming but because of a sublime gift – the gift of being aware that someday we are all going to die.
Some people call this by a fancy word called consciousness, and it may have taken 14 billion years of evolution, survival and luck for us to become a creature with this gift.
What no one tells you is that we will likely never know the answer to the big questions.
Like it or not, mystery is the backdrop to our existence. There are a lot of things that we will just never know. And that's both beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
Is the point of the big questions not to find the right answers – but to invite us on a journey, perhaps the most important one we will ever take in this life?
Don't pack too much. Most of this journey is inwards.
Do the big questions lead us to God?Um, wait — what is God?