How Do You Know That All Of Existence Won’t End The Day You Die?

[Jimmy]

That doesn't seem like their style.

Will it bother you if they don't?

Don’t what? Tell me I need help? No

 

[Quintessence]

I can handle it. lol.

That may well be, but nevertheless there would be no purpose in it.

We’re you going to diagnose me and tell me I need help?

No. I'm not in any position to know whether or not your beliefs are causing problems in your life to the point such a thing would be advisable. On top of that, I'm not a mental health professional. I have done quite a few mental health awareness trainings as part of my profession. And one of the biggest takeaways of that - something I also learned from my mom - is that the stigmas about mental health are unwarranted. Like physical health, everyone has mental health. Everyone's mind and body is different; the presence that diversity is not indicative of mental or physical problems. Heterochromia for example is very rare and unusual, but that hardly makes it a problem.

 

[Shadow Wolf]

I’m really surprised no one hasn’t said that they know that they’re not that person. I find that odd. One would think that one would know themselves. I’m pretty certain I would if I knew that.

Here's one for ya.
We are the universe experiencing itself.

 

[Jimmy]

you need help

What about all the people that believe Jesus is going to return to the Earth? Do they need help too?

 

[Jimmy]

Do you really think God would make an individual, with whom existence depended on, to not know himself?

 

[Jimmy]

Questions that begin with "How do you know ...?"

So you don’t know?

 

[Jimmy]

Me too, it's egotistical to the extreme

It’s humbling to the extreme

 

[Jimmy]

I said it tho

Oh yeah, you’re the only one though.

 

[JustGeorge]

Oh yeah, you’re the only one though.

I don't actually think you need help.

Honestly, I don't know you well enough to feel I would be able to make a call on that.

 

[an anarchist]

What about all the people that believe Jesus is going to return to the Earth? Do they need help too?

Comparing your personal religious beliefs to the world’s largest religion is actually ludicrous.

Modern Christians don’t just pull out ideas out of their bum. There are cultural reasons and the such for why they are religious.

 

[Jimmy]

Comparing your personal religious beliefs to the world’s largest religion is actually ludicrous.

Modern Christians don’t just pull out ideas out of their bum. There are cultural reasons and the such for why they are religious.

They believe a dead man rose from the grave. They believe he will establish a new heaven and earth when he returns after the day of judgment. Not much difference in what I think.

 

[PureX]

So you don’t know?

"Know" is a funny word. I can say that I "know" something because I have experienced it for myself, directly. But do I? Experiencing something and understanding that experience are not the same thing. Neither is thinking that I understand something, and actually understanding it. And how could I possibly tell the difference? So it turns out that even when I can say, and believe, that I "know" something, it's pretty likely that I only think I know it.

It's for this reason that I choose to try and avoid believing that I know things. At least, that I know them beyond having had an experience of it.

To clarify. As a child of 5 or 6, (I'm, 67, now) I had a direct personal experience of God. It was amazing, and inexplicable, even to me to this day, to recall it. So in that sense I can say that I "know God". And yet I cannot honestly claim to understand what I experienced. Could it have been some sort of self-induced hallucination? Is it some sort of trick of the mind that created a memory that never actually happened? Has my mind somehow embellished a 'normal' event to make it far more significant?

None of these seem at all likely. And yet neither is the alternative ... that it was really God. So what do I actually know about it? All I can say is that MY experience of God was AMAZING! And if it's accurate, God is full on, unqualified, unconditional, love. God is all around us, embracing us with the physicality of existence. Blessing us with it's amazing variety, beauty, and wonder, and is waiting to welcome us back home when the time comes.

No religion. No threats. No admonishments or messages of any kind. Just intense, unqualified, omnipresent love.

But what do I know?

 

[Jimmy]

"Know" is a funny word. I can say that I "know" something because I have experienced for myself, directly. But do I? Experiencing something and understanding that experience are not the same thing. Neither is thinking that I understood something, and actually understanding it. And how could I possibly tell the difference? So it turns out that even when I can say, and believe, that I "know" something, it's pretty likely that I only think I know it.

It's for this reason that I choose to try and avoid believing that I know things. At least, that I know them beyond having had a direct experience.

To clarify. As a child of 5 or 6, (I'm, 67, now) I had a direct personal experience of God. It was amazing, and inexplicable, even to me to this da, to recall it. So in that sense I can say that I "know God". And yet I cannot honestly claim to understand what I experienced. Could it have been some sort of self-induced hallucination? Is it some sort of trick of memory that never actually happened? Has my mind somehow embellished a 'normal' event to make it far more significant?

None of these seem at all likely. And yet neither is the alternative ... that it was really God. So what do I actually know about it? All I can say is that MY experience of God was AMAZING! And if it's accurate, God is full on, unqualified, unconditional, love. God is all around us, embracing us with the physicality of existence. Blessing us with it's amazing variety, beauty, and wonder, and is waiting to welcome us back home when that time comes.

No religion. No threats. No admonishments or messages of any kind. Just intense, unqualified, omnipresent love.

But what do I know?

Care to share the details of your experience?

 

[PureX]

Care to share the details of your experience?

It's very difficult to describe, and I don't really see the point. People will hear what they want to hear regardless of how well or poorly I try to describe it. It was complicated and otherworldly, far more than I think I could have invented for myself as a small child. It involved a kind of light that was more than just light. It was a kind of buoyant envelopment of intense energy. Sort of silvery. The "real world" became opaque. I heard no words but was clearly caused to understand that if I was afraid, the experience would cease. It was my choice. But I was not afraid. I was also caused to understand that I was intensely loved and greatly appreciated. And I found myself on the border between two worlds, the pleasant summer backyards of my neighborhood, and the vast expanse of a somewhat scary unknown plateau. (It was a real place, but the first time I'd ever been there.) I spent the afternoon with God. Right there on the edge of the unknown. I sang songs to 'it' (no gender) because I didn't know what else to do. And it was fun. And amazing. And eventually, after some unknown amount of time had passed, I was made to know that it was time for me to go home. So the being I thought was God and I agreeably parted company. The light returned to summer afternoon sunlight. The opaque world became solid again. I walked back through the backyards toward home. But when I got there and my mother saw me in the kitchen she was very concerned about how I apparently looked. And she wanted to know what happened. But as far as I was concerned nothing bad or concerning had happened, so I said nothing.

And that was that.

 

[PureX]

I should perhaps mention that this experience began because a close friend was very ill and had been taken to a hospital in another city. I didn't understand any of this at the time. I just missed her. And I was sitting on a rusty old swing-set in her back yard when this event began.

She recovered and has had a long life.

 

[Jimmy]

It's very difficult to describe, and I don't really see the point. People will hear what they want to hear regardless of how well or poorly I try to describe it. It was complicated and otherworldly, far more than I think I could have invented for myself as a small child. It involved a kind of light that was more than just light. It was a kind of buoyant envelopment of intense energy. Sort of silvery. The "real world" became opaque. I heard no words but was clearly caused to understand that if I was afraid, the experience would cease. It was my choice. But I was not afraid. I was also caused to understand that I was intensely loved and greatly appreciated. And I found myself on the border between two worlds, the pleasant summer backyards of my neighborhood, and the vast expanse of a somewhat scary unknown plateau. (It was a real place, but the first time I'd ever been there.) I spent the afternoon with God. Right there on the edge of the unknown. I sang songs to 'it' (no gender) because I didn't know what else to do. And it was fun. And amazing. And eventually, after some unknown amount of time had passed, I was made to know that it was time for me to go home. So the being I thought was God and I agreeably parted company. The light returned to summer afternoon sunlight. The opaque world became solid again. I walked back through the backyards toward home. But when I got there and my mother saw me in the kitchen she was very concerned about how I apparently looked. And she wanted to know what happened. But as far as I was concerned nothing bad or concerning had happened, so I said nothing.

And that was that.

Thank you for sharing. That sounds like quite the experience. I think I would’ve been terrified. When I was little and sleeping in my bed, I saw this blue like glowing face in the corner of my bedroom up towards the ceiling and I got scared and went and slept with my mother. I’m sure I was dreaming looking back. Lol

 

[PureX]

There are many things in this life to wonder about, that's for sure!

When I was in pre-school, some nuns had told us that "God is in the warmth of the summer sun, and the green rustling of the leaves", stuff like that. So I think that's why I wasn't afraid.

I now find myself living a few hundred yards from the little cottage that was that pre-school. What can one say?

 

[Jimmy]

It's very difficult to describe, and I don't really see the point. People will hear what they want to hear regardless of how well or poorly I try to describe it. It was complicated and otherworldly, far more than I think I could have invented for myself as a small child. It involved a kind of light that was more than just light. It was a kind of buoyant envelopment of intense energy. Sort of silvery. The "real world" became opaque. I heard no words but was clearly caused to understand that if I was afraid, the experience would cease. It was my choice. But I was not afraid. I was also caused to understand that I was intensely loved and greatly appreciated. And I found myself on the border between two worlds, the pleasant summer backyards of my neighborhood, and the vast expanse of a somewhat scary unknown plateau. (It was a real place, but the first time I'd ever been there.) I spent the afternoon with God. Right there on the edge of the unknown. I sang songs to 'it' (no gender) because I didn't know what else to do. And it was fun. And amazing. And eventually, after some unknown amount of time had passed, I was made to know that it was time for me to go home. So the being I thought was God and I agreeably parted company. The light returned to summer afternoon sunlight. The opaque world became solid again. I walked back through the backyards toward home. But when I got there and my mother saw me in the kitchen she was very concerned about how I apparently looked. And she wanted to know what happened. But as far as I was concerned nothing bad or concerning had happened, so I said nothing.

And that was that.

Did you fall asleep and have a dream perhaps?

 

[SalixIncendium]

I am all existence. I am eternal. I don't die. I don't end.

 

[PureX]

Did you fall asleep and have a dream perhaps?

No, I actually walked to the edge of that plateau, and climbed up the side. It was a real place. From there I could look down on the green backyards of 'my world' (the only places I knew at the age of 5) on one side. and out across a big black 'unknown expanse' on the other. The expanse was all black foundry sand. I was looking at a giant land fill. Not for trash, but for waste from the many steel mills and casting foundries where I grew up.

It was real, but way more then that.