A psychologist walked around a room while teaching stress management to an audience. As she raised a glass of water, everyone expected they’d be asked the “half empty or half full” question. Instead, with a smile on her face, she inquired: “How heavy is this glass of water?”
Answers called out ranged from 8 oz. to 20 oz.
She replied, “The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for a minute, it’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn’t change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.” She continued, “The stresses and worries in life are like that glass of water. Think about them for a while and nothing happens. Think about them a bit longer and they begin to hurt. And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed – incapable of doing anything.”
It’s important to remember to let go of your stresses. As early in the evening as you can, put all your burdens down. Don’t carry them through the evening and into the night. Remember to put the glass down!
I think this just changed my life.
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
yesss i found it again! one of my all time favourite reads.
Philosophy went to the max right here
OI SCROLL BACK UP AND READ ALL OF IT!
I was really intrigued by this
Grief-stricken homeless man seeks public’s help after his dog stolen
Carl McDonald may be homeless, but his dog Scooby is his family and his life-saver in more ways than one. But now someone has stolen his 4-year-old Australian Kelpie away from him. Just before Christmas, the dog he calls “his daughter” was stolen while he slept.
Carl was sleeping on the streets of Oxford, England, on the porch of St. Gile’s Church in the city centre and when he woke to find her gone. The Australian Kelpie was last seen lying next to him. Carl said he was sure Scooby was stolen because the lead which hadn’t been attached to her collar was also gone, as well as some dog treats and £38 which had been in his hat. Now that she’s gone he said he doesn’t know what to do.
He told the Oxford Mail, “Dogs are everything when you are homeless. They keep you going and listen to you when you have no one to talk to.” He added, “I can’t sleep without her, it’s messing me up to be honest. It feels like someone has stolen my kid. I don’t know what I might do to myself really, I can’t live without her. She was like my daughter.”
A homeless man’s beloved dog was stolenCarl has had Scooby since she was just 4-weeks-old when a friend gave her to him. He bottle-fed her as a puppy. Carl, 43 said he owes his life to Scooby after she saved him from a fire in an apartment last year. He recounts how last year she saved his life when an apartment he was staying at caught on fire. “Someone had left a candle on and the flat caught fire. She woke me up and dragged me to the door. I didn’t know where it was because of all the smoke.”
He has a friend, Mandy Aitbaha, who is helping him search for Scooby by putting up posters.
Mandy always stops to chat to Carl and say hello to Scooby while she shops. She’s noticed the effect Scooby’s theft has had on Carl. “I’m really worried about him, he’s depressed and without that dog he is suicidal. I always see them together, he loves that dog.”
She said, “When I saw him a few days ago after Scooby went missing his head was down and he was crying. I couldn’t see Scooby so I knew something was wrong. He has been dealt a rough hand of cards as it is. His words to me were that he is staring death in the face so we really have to find her.”
Volunteers for Dog Lost, a national website which tries to track down missing dogs, has been helping with the search for Scooby.
Thames Valley Police spokesman Rhianne Pope confirmed Scooby was reported missing on December 19 and had not yet been found. She said Scooby’s disappearance was being treated as a theft.
The Australian Kelpie which is primarily brown with a white blaze across her chest and was taken from Carl on December 19, 2012 from the St. Gile’s Church at 10 Woodstock Rd. If you have any information on Scooby’s disappearance contact Dog Lost or Thames Valley Police.
Please reblog here, post to facebook (by clicking on photo) and anywhere else you think can make a difference ;)
another photo of scooby
If any of our followers from around that area know anything or have their suspicions, please give your local police a call. Even if you’re not 100% sure, I’d bet Carl would be grateful you tried
This is actually heart breaking, how could anyone do something so awful? I really hope he finds Scooby.