2010.06.29 Lost In Existence

I was sitting in our living room with Simon on my lap, and we were looking out the window. Just, you know, looking at stuff for a while. Naturally, I found myself seeing Simon seeing things. Or, more aptly, coming to terms with the idea that he was just starting to recognize things. Instead of the usual pondering about his cognitive development, my brain detoured.

My thoughts started contemplating the fact that it wasn't just Simon having somewhat-singular experiences; I was too. Which was odd-seeming, since it appears as though I've grown accustomed to the idea that most things I experience are usually iterations of things I have already experienced. Like I assume I've got an almost-full set of experiences, or something equally vague. As if you can winnow down existence to continuous stream of individual instances of experience.

I tumbled headlong into the idea:
What if that's all we get to experience, but that after we die we are able to continue to exist inside those experiences (somehow). That, for eternity (or a really long time) we can revisit every instant of our experiences. Maybe even have to revisit them all.

I realize that this probably isn't an entirely novel idea, but this was the first time I was so profoundly struck by the implications of it.

The main implication being that I might want to pay more attention to the quality control of my instantaneous existence. If I have to spend eternity reliving a bunch of whiny-ass petty moments, it's going to suck. If I have to be back in every moment over and over again, to really understand and absorb every iota of what it was like, I sure as hell would prefer it if I was at least somewhat cool as much as possible.