Thomas Jefferson got his, often.
An Enlightenment leader who spoke five languages, a man of science, invention, architecture, religion and philosophy. But he no longer exists. Now he’s just a name in the book my boss reads over the weekend. And he got a wikipedia page. So he’s still a part of the human conversation centuries after his expiration- where’s it got him now? And just where’s that put me?
That puts me on the couch, watching Star Trek in my boxers and eating delicious three-minute spicy ramen noodles, dreaming of all the inventions I’ll invent and start-ups I’ll start up. You’ll see, I’m gonna get it all started, well, maybe the week after next. That outta do it. This thought, of making something that’ll survive me, for some illogically logical reason, makes me comfortable knowing Jefferson no longer exists.
This same urge/instinct/drive motivates the propagation of the human species. Parents are immortal when they have a child. And when one loses a child it is the hardest loss of all. It is the true death, the loss of immortality. In the alternative, we work for causes, etch something in stone, or write a novel because we are comforted to know something we created will survive us.
This must go beyond biology and logic. Perhaps this how we walk with God on Earth. You can call Him the Universal, or the collective spirit. He’s a force, like gravity, an energy that is within us all. The energy from whence nothing sprang something. BANG! The soul of the Universe, home to simultaneous creation and destruction.
We channel our inner maker to aid in the battle of creation vs destruction. We’ll win with even the slightest of net positive. It may be like trying to slow a train by pulling on the seat in front of you. But it might also be our only salvation knowing Jefferson no longer exists.