I’ve come to a point in life where more of it is behind me than in front of me. I’ve left more organizations than I’m a part of. Most of the people I’ve ever been friends with are strangers now. Lots of people have died, more than I’d like to recount.

I had a chance to reflect on all of this last night. I visited the city of the dead.

My dreams let me transcend different planes of existence. I caught a slipstream into the void, where everything that’s ever happened comes to rest. It’s infinity, the Omega Point, and it’s where we go when we die.

Everyone was surprised to see me there, not because it’s before my time (time is a single instant there), but because it was already populated by so many versions of myself, come and gone. They chatted, using the slang I used to, smoking cigarettes, dressed in the faded t shirts I once wore. There is a cozy feeling to seeing all these past versions of myself.

My father came to say hello, spry and fresh like he used to be, ready with a joke or an encouraging word, not faded and withdrawn like he is now. My older brother was there back when he used to like me, when he was interested in me. It brought tears to my eyes to be with them, I missed them so much.

My dog and cat from childhood were there, the dog barking at the postman, the cat purring under the covers. I wanted to stay here; everything I’m trying to find in my life is just recreating what’s here in infinity.

The world was so bright and clear there, not covered over with debris and compromise. Nothing needed to be done; it just existed. I could still choose my college courses or daydream about what my career will be. I didn’t need to hide or diminish myself.

I heard the alarm bells from far off, slow and getting faster. My past selves and family came to hug me and shake my hand. I petted my dog and said goodbye to my grandfather, and gathered myself to return to the slipstream.

I woke with the alarm, eyes wet with tears. Here I was again, in this transient and fallen world. Everything looks solid, but it’s changing every moment and I am too. I look in the mirror and know that each time I see myself, it’s a different man, and the previous one is puttering away in infinity, awaiting my return one day.

It’s all right. I can wait. I’ll recollect and reflect, treasuring that sliver of inifiity that’s within me. One day I will return and we’ll all be together.