An Unscientific but Weirdly Plausible Theory on Death

Experts may disagree, but no-one really knows

Since I joined Medium, just over 3 weeks ago, I have been republishing stories from my personal blog. I admit, I have been selecting my more popular stories. Less controversial, crowd pleasers. Don’t judge, you would do the same thing, wont you? We all want to make a good first impression. Then Kevin Buddaeus wrote this story on one of my favourite topics — death.

So here is another story from my blog. My weirdly plausible theory on death.

Is death really dying?

If you have read any of my stories, you will know that I draw all my life lessons from things I observe in life. I guess I do that because the Bible tells us about God, that His invisible attributes are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made. (Rm 1:20)

So, rather than answer the question posed, I’ll take you into a vortex. Jump in and travel backwards, retrace your steps to a young adult, teen, a child, you are a baby, back to the maternity ward. Slow down, you are a full term baby in the womb. Our story starts, come with me.

For nine months, you have been growing, living, feeding, stretching, playing in a warm dark cocoon, familiar smells, familiar routine, a familiar space. This is life as you know it. You have no comprehension of light, or antiseptic smells, loud voices nor humans wrapped in blue plastic gowns. None.

Suddenly, your world is turned upside down. A tsunami and earthquake all combined, as the womb heaves and shudders in contractions, each increasing in intensity, pushing you head first along a narrow canal. You cannot breathe, you can’t see. Gone is the safe space of the womb. How long is this passage? what lies ahead? When does this end. You hear loud screams of pain, coming from within, coming from without? you cannot tell. You are powerless against the contracting forces. Pushed by the waves. Sucked. The vortex.

Life or death

Does this sound like the beginning of life to you? Nine months as a foetus is a lifetime of life . Imagine the confusion, fear and trauma the baby feels as it leaves the only life it has ever known. As your head rubs dark narrow convulsing tunnel towards an unknown future in a seemingly harsh environment. Do you think, ‘Hey I am being born!’ I don’t think so. Most likely you are thinking, ‘this is the end of life as I knew it. I am heading toward an uncertain future. It is bright, cold, noisy and I hate it.” Why do you think babies cry?

To us a baby being born means a new life starts. To the baby, life as he knew it had ended. We call that death, don’t we?

Stop and ponder: The similarities between death and new life are way too uncanny to ignore

Like a baby, we do not know what awaits us in the next life Like a baby, we cannot go back or reassure other babies that it would be fine, there is nothing to be afraid of Like a baby, the process of death is uncertain, uncomfortable, unsure Like the baby, born to a princess or born of a refugee in the Sudan desert, we could die to nothingness or die to glory – no-one knows.

As birth, so with death, a doorway through which we pass to another life.

We all need a door

Imagine again with me. This time you are in a cube. There is no way out, You are stuck in the cube forever — not knowing what is outside: don’t you wish there was a door? Suddenly the door appear but you are still stuck in the cube, unless you walk out the door. Death is the door out of the life cube.

How would we live if rooms did not have doors?

Thank you Grandma, for errmmmmm, dying

Lewis Capaldi is a two time Brits Awards Winner winning the song of the year award and the best new artist award. On a glitzy stage with a bottle in hand, he gives a slightly slurred thank you speech and out comes the most bizzarre words, “Thanks to my grandma for… erm … dying?”

After the initial shock, I realised that was a profound statement. The reason why you are what you are, standing where you are, is because of the people who have died and left. If they were still living, you probably would not be you. I wrote about this as a tiny life moment below.

Your mother needed to push you out as a nine month old baby. She could not be pregnant for ever. Her body needed to recover and perhaps make space for another child, or another egg -a monthly cycle that would not start until you left.

As a pregnant woman must give birth; I humbly proffer, so also must nature push us from the land.

Are we in nature’s womb

I love Science Fiction, I love the idea of Aliens, time travel and parallel universes. I love physics, the atom, dark matter, light and energy. I don’t understand everything I read, but I embrace the possibilities, knowledge and debates about who we are and how we fit in the universe with other beings.

The baby in its mother’s womb, had no clue of the parallel world that existed outside. I often wonder if we also, are in nature’s womb unaware of a parallel existence outside. We call her ‘Mother Nature’, so who are her children? Ever wondered.

The Bible hints? “For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.” Rm 12:2.

Hints of Another Life

Premonitions, deja vu, ghosts, prophecies, inklings, vivid dreams. Are these hints from the next life. Parents singing to babies in the womb, do they ever think there is another world out there? I think we (humans) sometimes connect with the ‘other’ world. I have a story.

I remember when a good friend of mine died. I had been to see him in the afternoon, went back home to sleep. I woke up sometime in the middle of the night trembling, heart palpitating slightly — an awkward feeling like a cold wave over me. I ignored it and went back to sleep. A few hours later, I got a phone call, my friend had passed away a few hours earlier. Maybe he came to say goodbye, reaching out to me, but cocooned in the womb, unaware of the outside. He walked past in a parallel world. I’ll never forget that night, but I’d like to think he smiled and said, ‘soon Keno, you will experience eternal life.’

What is after death?

There is something on the other side of the doorway. What and where we emerge to I do not know, I don’t care to know — but I cannot believe its nothingness, a deep sleep, harps in heaven or seven virgins.

If a baby is born to a better life through death, then I surely will be born again.

I am confident that new life awaits beyond the door. A life like I have never imagined. A better life, a vivid life, abundant life, a colourful life. Perhaps eternal life?

Postscript:

Death may not be a doorway. I may be wrong. It maybe a downwards chute, or lead us to the sunken place. Death could be many things, but like Kevin, we won’t know until we know. But perchance I am right.

If death is a door, then you’ll need someone to show you the way, and it has to be a way of truth, not deception, and truth must lead to life or the journey is pointless.

I think I know the one.

I took this photo on my walk yesterday. A sign from nature, one day, we’ll walk up those stairs into life.

This story was first published on my blog and repurposed for Medium.

Update: Today, Friday 29th May has been hard, I tried to write as therapy and I wanted to append my thoughts here: death is not easy. never. I need hope, now more than ever.

PS: For something a little more joyous, wake up, it’s a brand new day to live.