Unsigned Books

The Life Series

Some called it Boxism, others referred to it as Boxianity or even Boxology. It is most commonly known as The Box Theory. Few hold the knowledge, but it seems to be spreading as popular religions and theories about our existence do not offer what young people are looking for. They do not satisfy the needs of a lost generation. The wisdom held by the wisest of the wise is impossible to understand and need not be understand, just accepted. Acceptance will lead to an inner peace that these youngsters so desperately long for, yet often did not know they needed. We pick up our tale where we left of, with the wise man and a dark stranger sitting down at a table with a box in the middle. An ordinary box that serves a purpose, unlike The Box of Life and Death. 

“In the beginning,” the old, wise man continued his story, “there was The Box of Life and Death. This here, of course, is just an ordinary box. It might not even look like the real one, it is just a representation of the original. This box serves a purpose and when the purpose is fulfilled, it will disappear for ever. The primordial box gave life to everything. All living things on earth came out of The Box. As did the planets, the stars, the universe and everything. The box, as you will understand, was not alive.”  

The dark stranger was confused. “How can an inanimate object create? This does not make any sense at all, old man.” 

“If you are looking for something that makes sense, you have come to the wrong place and are also erring in your thoughts. People worry about making sense. Things always have to make sense to humans. Inanimate objects or even animals or plants do not worry about making sense. Do you wish me to continue or are you going to worry about trifling matters as logic?” He spoke without emotions, staring deep into the eyes of the stranger sitting opposite him. His mind at ease and at peace. Nothing seemed to be able to stir him.   

The stranger was having great difficulties comprehending what was being said. He wanted to hear, yet his own confusion angered him. “Please, do continue. I will do my best.”  

“The Box of Life and Death opened, and everything inside floated out. The theory you know as evolution is true and was part of what came out of it. After having emptied itself, it disappeared, and life took over. It does not create anymore for it is gone. Everything was inside of the box. Like a mother giving birth, The Box of Life and Death gave birth to life, the universe, and everything. Everything has been growing ever since. Expanding and filling the emptiness, the nothingness.” The box was closed, and the wise, old man stared at it in deep thought. 

“But where did ‘the box’ come from? What created the box?” He felt the eager inside of him. This old geezer was frustrating him by talking slowly on purpose and beating about the bush. He could not help himself from wanting to drown in the spring he had so long been looking for. This man was just a dripping faucet. He was thirsty, oh so thirsty for more. 

“This box came with the postman. But, by the look on your face, I can safely assume you are not talking about this box. Here is the most difficult part for most people to comprehend. You see, The Box had always been there. Although ‘always’ is not really true. I say ‘always’ but in fact The Box of Life and Death lived outside of time. There was no time. Not until The Box created it. Time only started when ‘the box’ opened up and life, the universe, and everything floated out of it. It was then that time started. The Box of Life and Death was not created; it was the creator. I know you want to say that that is impossible. It is only impossible for us humans to think about it. Reality does not care about your incapabilities, your impossibility to comprehend. Reality is different. Just because we cannot think it, does not mean it cannot be real or true. Our minds are limited. Our perception is limited. The Box was unlimited. The Box simply was. Do you understand?”  

The man looked up and down a bit and tried his very best to grasp the words spoken by the wise, old man. He could not. The old man knew he could not. “I know you cannot and never will be able to. It is just something you will have to accept to be true even though you do not understand it. Not understanding something does not make it less true.” An internal struggle was clearly visible in the eyes of the dark stranger as he tried to understand it, for he believed understanding would lead to acceptance. The old man knew that acceptance would lead to inner peace. Accepting the word and accepting that it could not be understood.  

“Do not worry about not understanding any of it. Trying to understand it will only stand in your way to accepting it. The sooner you accept things, the sooner you will find the inner peace you long for. The answers you seek do not lie in understanding. All you need is to know and accept. Even accepting you do not know, is a good way to inner peace. You have come to the spring; you need not empty it. You need to accept you cannot empty it. Just knowing it is there, can be enough.” 

Another cup of tea was put in front of the dark stranger. Even though the old man had been drinking his, his cup was not emptied. It appeared to be undrunk. He warmed his hands on the hot beverage and leaned forward. Almost in a whisper he said, 

“You say it is ‘the box of life and death’, does that mean ‘the box’ also takes life? Do we go into ‘the box’ after we die?” 

“You were listening, but did you actually hear me? Are you so worried about drinking, that you forget to taste the water? I said, ‘The Box of Life and Death did what it did and is no more’. There is no box to go into, except the ones you are buried in, of course. But those are manmade. Maybe a poor representation of the real one. But not a demand from The Box itself. Maybe some people feel it is a way to pay homage to The Box. This is useless. The Box does not care. There is no more box.” He looks the guy dead into the eyes and sees the internal battle taking place. “The box is gone. We live. Soon we will be gone, too. Live until you die.” 

“So, where do we go?” He asked still not understanding nor accepting what was being said. 

“Nowhere. We die. That is the short and long of it. No Heaven. No Hell. No Box. People often find comfort in the idea that their loved ones live on in some place better. If that idea comforts you in any way, by all means, believe that your loved ones will return to The Box. But it is not real. They are dead. But have they lived? No eternal plains to go to.” 

“I find this rather upsetting.” 

“I don’t. I have long accepted this. That is why I am at peace with myself and the world, and you are not. Your emotions are pushing and pulling you in every direction they can go. You let them. You are devoured from the inside. It is eating you up. You do not accept what is. You want there to be more and will never be satisfied with what is. Therefore, your cup empties and overflows, It need not be like that.” 

He looked into his cup and took a sip. It was true. His cup emptied whereas the old man’s cup was still full no matter how much he drank.  

I wish I could go on, dear reader, but we do live inside time, and time is not on my side. I shall continue this tale some other time. Until then.