Transmutation

I could never understand transmutation before the accident happened. And believe you me, I tried. I tried to comprehend it like many of you do. The endless quest for immortality so many find themselves on. You know, how nothing really dies. How it only changes form.

See they teach about Newton’s First Law of Motion at school. That an object’s composition remains stable without an external force at play. Sounds simple and all, just resign yourself to stasis, some infinite vacuum, throw away the key. Forget everyone you loved and what it means to be human. Live forever, unchanged. But, so long as you have a body, life doesn’t work that way. Its friction has a way of finding you. Mortality has a way of catching up no matter how fast you run.

If only I didn’t have to see the loss on her face. Turns out the one thing that never changes, is a heart. I wish I could tell her all the things that I’ve learned. Hold her, tell her it’ll all be okay.

Transmutation is everywhere, in everything. It’s happening right now as you read this. The cells in your body are changing form at a truly remarkable rate. Soon, before you know it, you’ll be just like me.

So I should probably give you a heads up. It was you they chose for me to talk to, after all. There must be something about you. Not special — trust me, nothing is special — but still a certain something.

Anyway, as you might have guessed by now, I’m dead. I died in a car accident three years ago, when a drunk driver lost control at 75km/ph and t-boned my Camry. Don’t worry — the death was quick. Couldn’t have asked for a better one. The impact caused a massive haemorrhagic shock and if I’m honest, I don’t much remember the dying part. I just remember what came after.

As it transpires, death is a bit of a misnomer. The immortality seekers were right all along. Nothing dies; mortality, as a concept, is meaningless. And in terms of consciousness, the Christians are closer to the truth than they’re given credit. So was Nietzsche and the materialists. Which sounds contradicting, right? Don’t worry. When Terio Lupin publishes her new theory of Quantum Mechanics in 2063, it’ll all make sense. For now, just know this: it’s all a really big mind-fuck. Nothing is what you think it is. The important thing is, consciousness goes on. Memories last; love never fades. If anything, it grows stronger.

I miss her now more than ever. Seeing can never make up for what’s lost in touch.

Here’s something cool for you. The galaxy you live in, the good old Milky Way, is more than a bunch of swirling matter. A lot more. The supermassive blackhole at the centre is less of a rift and more of a, what’s the best way of putting it — it’s kind of a brain, combined with a heart. The whole damned thing is conscious, and every planetary system acts like a cell in a giant body. It’s the same for every galaxy. That’s right: there really is a god, and there are trillions of them.

From what I can tell they’re a fairly peaceful lot. Little for us to relate to from our perspective, but, I’ll be damned if it isn’t cool. They’ve got a sense of humour don’t worry. Might be you’re the relative size of a proton, but the intelligence is vast and omniscient enough to have a stake in everything, your good self included. All those insane coincidences in your life — especially the ironical ones, like when the training wheels on your first bike broke off and you went speeding down the hill into the lake and landed in the reeds right next to that toy you’d lost — they all of them came from Big Agency at the centre. Usually to help, in some way, but just as often not. It doesn’t mind a pointless giggle for its own sake.

The reality after bodily death — that’s probably the fairest way to describe it — is a real trip at first. Catapults you straight into the fourth dimension, that place where space and time coalesce into the same inseparable physical property. Boy was that a headspin. Takes some adjusting, and then, poof, past-present-future right there in front of you, like a movie-reel rolled on the ground, stretched either direction to infinity. This is why I know all about Terio Lupin. I know a lot of things, actually. I kind of know everything. The unlimited bandwidth the mind gets without the body would make Elon Musk and the Neuralink team shit themselves. But the novelty wears off pretty quickly. Events matter less when you can see them all.

Though there is beauty out here. Profound beauty. The mysterious Dark Energy of space that so many physicists harp on about is actually a substrate for all transcendent lifeforms; and all lifeforms are transcendent. The dimension we’re in is at once an ocean, and an endless archipelago. We are all of us connected, yet, unique. It’s hard to explain.

But you’ll get it, one day.

Before I go, I have to break protocol. I need you to deliver a message. Can you do that for me? It’s okay to nod. I’m watching as you read this after all. Google: Maggie Hewitt PhD, Melbourne University, Philosophy Faculty, and send her this email:

Hey Apple3.141

Max has been out of sorts because he has a stomach ulcer. Take him to the vet over on Charles St, not the one in Campbell; they’ll overcharge you.

I can’t say much. I won’t see you again if I do.

It’s time to move on. It’s okay. Give that Peter guy a chance. He’s good for you.

The tear falling down your left cheek as you read this a second time makes you look more beautiful than ever.

When you’re outside next, look to the sky. See the blue dome reaching the far horizon. See me in there, see me looking down, watching over you, forever.

We will be together again, one day. Please let me go. Live in the moment, the Now, and, for god’s sake, get the car serviced — it’s two thousand miles overdue.

Jonathan