Hello Markx,
Well we born at the first place, we can born again. It is very possible when we die here we will re born at some other world...
Fair enough. I don't discount such a possibility out-of-hand. In fact the number of such scenarios aren't even limited to those you and I might rationally posit. To use quantum physics as an example, we've seen that the universe is not constrained to function in accordance with our "common sense" notions of it. As Frank Wilczek, professor of physics at MIT put it:
"...we have no warrant to expect that naive intuitions about what is weird or unlikely provide reliable guidance for constructing models of fundamental structure in the microworld, because these intuitions derive from an entirely different realm of phenomena."
Even within the confines of our everyday world, our knowledge of things is second-hand at best. Tor Norretranders summed up our inability to know the true essence of things with his assertion, "We sense, simulate, and then experience." Of all that apparently exists in this world, the only thing that I may know the essence of
is myself. In choosing to take the next breath I have a hand in the moment-by-moment creation of my own life.
Seneca spoke of a young man taken captive as a slave by the Romans. As this man was being led in chains to Rome he kept repeating aloud, "I shall never be a slave." Upon his arrival, the chains were removed so that he could take up his work as a slave. Thereupon he immediately rushed headlong into a wall, both splattering his brains and proving the truth of his words.
Since I provide the essence to my existence, no pronouncement I make about this universe may be as certain as one I make about myself. Everything we know of the external world is in some way suspect; it is information open to question. However, since we provide the very essence to our existence, we are exactly what we think we are. If I think myself happy, then I am happy. If I refuse to live as a slave, then I shall never be a slave. I can't tell you with any certainty what lies beyond this world. However, what I know about my own life in this world is intrinsically valid. What we know of ourselves constitute the most perfect "truths" that we shall ever know.
Changing gears...
It's possible that I'm simultaneously living in an infinite number of identical duplicate universes. Though possible, what practical difference would it make? That my nose itches at this moment, is of vastly more significance than when I scratch it, an infinity of "mirror" copies scratch as well. Such redundancy matters naught.
There is a similar possibility that I might coexist in any number of other universes (read for example,
Just Six Numbers by the British Astrophysicist, Martin Rees), and while some may be identical to this universe, others might be different. Some versions of me might live-on in these other universes long after I am dead in this one. Other versions of me might not be born yet for some thousands of years to come. Some versions of me might be prone to diabolical behavior, other versions might be of a heroic disposition. The particulars matter little. What matters most is that all these various hypothetical versions of me are not me at all. Unless the universe in question is an exact duplicate (in which case it becomes redundant, as I've commented above), there will always be an element of "otherness" to these other versions of me.
I am the product of my history in this particular world. It doesn't matter that an infinite number of versions of me might have lived in the past or might forever live in the future. In
this world my life is constrained to occur between the span of my birth and death.
Imagine a man such that his entire memory is erased at the stroke of midnight on the last day of each and every year. He'd have no chance to accrue a personal history outside the limits of these successive one year intervals. This man awakens each New Year's morning to find himself in unfamiliar surroundings. Soon he will come to (re)familiarize himself with this strange new world. He will begin to form an individual personality, and accumulate both pleasant and sad memories. In short, he will become a person; until midnight on the last day of the year that is. Year after year, this same man undergoes the same process of loss and discovery. He's the same man year after year, yet I would ask you if he is the same person?
As soon as I regain my consciousness each morning, I have to "reboot" my system. Perhaps you do the same? Taking only a few seconds, I have to remember not only where I am, but who and what I am as well. Furthermore, I've an idea that we do this not only each time we waken, we do this to a lesser degree, moment-by-moment throughout our lives. Aided by the memory of what we've been, we produce what we are. It's the memory of our past that allows us to produce a continuous flow of conscious life.
If my memory should be deleted entirely, the unique person that was me would die as well. Suppose I might one day suffer from advanced Alzheimer's disease? What if I should "pass over" to the next world at the completion of my life not able to even remember my own wife's face? You might suggest that the gods are smart enough to take the earlier healthy version of me instead. But what if a man had repeated bouts of mental illness and memory loss throughout his life? How would the gods decide which version of the man to carry over to the next world? The very idea reminds me of the post office's arbitrarily decision to issue a stamp of Elvis-the- young-stud, rather than Elvis-the-obese.
Unless an extension of my life could retain my old memories, then whatever might continue to live-on would be something other than me. And the fact that I've no recollections prior to my own birth tells me that I'm not descended
as the same person from an earlier life. You might object that you occasionally have fuzzy memories of having perhaps lived through the Irish potato famine, or the French Revolution. I'd reply that I don't move from moment to moment in my life with only indistinct memories of who I am. Vague or fuzzy memories don't cut it.
Now that I've established that I'm neither a reincarnation, nor an extension of myself from an earlier time, what of the thought that I might be standing at the start of an eternal life? If this were true it is suspicious that I find myself to be living in this unique period of myr eternal life. Eternity is a very long time. Wouldn't it be far more likely that I'd find myself at nearly any other time within this eternity other than at the very beginning? Statistically, this ought to sound alarm bells in my head. Of course a mortal would always find himself to be living within his "first" (and only) life. With Ockham's "razor" in mind, I'll accept the more simple explanation, at least until better evidence comes my way.
Well, immortal or not, I'm falling asleep here.
Thanks for the reply,
Michael