you want to leave behind a world–perhaps not your world, but a world, nonetheless.
forget about a legacy or leaving behind property, or buildings with your name on them.
forget about leaving behind anything at all with your name on it.
what you want to leave behind is a world–a space and time continuum set wholly apart from the one we know in the flesh
and yet, of course, it has been highly informed by the flesh–how could it not be?
i think you know what i mean when i refer to a world, but please allow me to be most clear:
a writer of fiction, especially of the science-y or fantasy kind, leaves behind various worlds–
each of them self contained, in a single book, or a series, or a trilogy, etc.
but for you–and other graphomaniacs, scribblers, diarists, and pretend poets like yourself–only a single world will do.
it is an attempt to most accurately reflect the world you knew when you were alive and awake on this earth–
clearly, i don’t just mean some faithful cutting and pasting of the daily news
or the latest peer-reviewed experiments that have been thrice independently replicated in labs located at great distance from each other.
that wouldn’t be the world you knew, anyway.
it would be equally foolish to call the world you knew fiction,
or a mere playground of words…
it would be rash and presumptuous to state that you understood your physical world well, or your human world wonderfully–or that you came into your own as a real, authentic being in the space that is shared with others.
what you had was a mere world–a world into which you were eager to invite others to walk, but they mostly declined.
to the credit of others–how could they carry around two entire worlds in their heads simultaneously–
some yogi has probably done it (God, i hear, does it quite often), but no doubt it takes a lot of practice.
you could talk now about what your world was, or what it wasn’t, but that would mostly require an entire retelling of everything from the beginning.
and so, you are left with the hope that one single soul will pick up your world and place it in the next system of memory after this one dies.
you are not thinking of reincarnation–just a neat and painless data transfer.
you are sitting here being watched by some who have passed and have taken their worlds elsewhere–what fun they must be having in a world that co-exists but mostly exists separately!
your mom with your dad on their wedding day, your little brother on his last birthday–his 16th. what would they say? if God could only offer a bridge–a brief, little lapse in all of His laws–and let them let you know what you should do next–
should you burn your world up completely and leave not a trace so that like Christ, the only words you leave behind belong to others who try to remember what you said and did?
or cease with all other efforts at becoming a better human for the sake of building your world?
or would the answer simply be–do whatever makes you happy–as if the answer to the greatest mystery was also the most shallow cliche–the most profound truth turned out to be the kind of wisdom you might hear from say, the mouth of a babe.
if so, then perhaps the best thing to do then would be to keep building your world with the certain understanding that each and every atom of your world is being tossed into merciless flames, even as you…