Observatio

On the same subject, and in light of my ongoing conversation with a lifelong friend about faith and atheism, I sometimes wonder if the truth of the matter is that whatever we believe the afterlife to be is what it will appear to be to us as we die. I’ve always thought that those near-death experiences some people have border on autosuggestion, i.e., they expected, subconsciously, to encounter a tunnel, a light, and dead loved ones, and that’s exactly what they saw when their hearts weren’t beating and their brains were flat-lining.

If you’ve ever seen David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive, you must have considered the possibility that illusion could be a huge part of the experience of dying. The entire movie takes place in the moment Naomi Watts’ character is dying. I can imagine that a person of deep faith, like my friend, would drift into a dream of everlasting life in the presence of Jesus simply because that is sewn into his very identity. I, on the other hand, will more than likely fade to black, since that’s what I expect the afterlife to be. A lot of nothing.

Religious ideas -- which are really all about immortality -- could well be a kind of archetypal message from our ancestors telling us that we are in control of our own afterlife. Peter Pan style, all we have to do is believe. Who wouldn’t want to train themselves to live forever?

But that introduces a very tricky dilemma. How can you brainwash yourself to believe in eternal life at the hem of Jesus when science and philosophy -- if you’re paying any attention -- point instead to a definitive end? Is living a lie the smoothest way to dying in peace? Can it even be accomplished, given our tendency to doubt? What if you are burdened with doubt at the very end -- does your fond vision of heaven evaporate with that small, badly timed chink in your faith?

I’m not the kind who would be able to hedge my bets by signing up with the outfit that has the nicest eternity plan. This is not like buying a car or getting a time-share. No, I’m afraid that even if I knew my dying thoughts would dictate my afterlife, I’d wind up devoted instead to the truth as I see it at the time.

Maybe if they come up with a drug -- some kind of Pearly Gates opiate that guides you along to your ideal eternity. Maybe I’d give that a try.