For a brief moment, let’s abandon the conventions of reality and imagine a theoretical scenario.

Imagine that right now, in this very moment, your reality shatters like a mirror into a virtually infinite number of pieces. Each “shard” of this reality is a different version of events. Each slightly different. Maybe just an atom going a different way or an electron spinning in a different direction, but each one is different. There are as many realities as there are differences. One would assume that each scenario is just as possible as another, but that’s not the case.

Light always takes the shortest path to its destination. This is known as the Least Action Principle. It basically states that things that are less likely to occur are less probable to occur. A shocker, I know. But let me explain this differently. The Galton Board is a great example. When a marble is dropped from the top of the board, where will it land? Well, it is most likely to land in the middle, and least likely to land on the far left or far right. The universe takes this principle and takes it to a more extreme level. Things that are most likely to occur, will occur. Things that are less likely to occur, might occur with some effort. Things that are unlikely to occur, probably won’t occur. And things that are statistically impossible won’t occur unless the perfect conditions are met.

With that in mind, once again, imagine your reality fracturing into a virtually infinite number of pieces. Each shard is a possibility that could occur. There are no scenarios in which the impossible does occur, and no scenarios where the inevitable won’t occur. How many possible scenarios does this leave you with? How many possible realities are snuffed from possible existence each Planck? A virtual infinity of possible realities is being wiped at all times. Like a tape that is constantly being overwritten. But a tape has a lifespan, it won’t function forever. The universe has a lifespan too. So let’s use the tape to record something meaningful. So that we don’t have to wipe it. So that it is used for its intended purpose.

An infinite number of chisels carve grooves into an infinite plain of stone. Each chisel has a choice where to go. They carve lines across stone. Some chisels have an easier job, as there were other chisels carving the same places before them. There already is a groove, so there is less work to do. Other chisels start in the middle of the stone plain, unable to reach grooves made by other chisels. Those ones have a much harder time at making their impact in the stone. Those ones are often forgotten. No matter how amazing their work, nobody will ever experience it. No chisel will ever find their groove in the stone, and it will remain there, forgotten. But the stone seems infinite, what are the chances of going in the right direction? Of starting in the right place? And why is every chisel going their own way? Shouldn’t they be working on one thing? There is only one stone after all, and they all share it. Why don’t they carve one big groove for every chisel to use? Wouldn’t that be better? Or at least they could chisel something interesting into the stone. But they each go their own way, defacing the perfect plain of stone with their movement. Where is the artist of this piece? What is its meaning?

A soul is a four dimensional smear across spacetime, It is comprised of what a creature is, was, and will be. It creates a strand across the fabric of reality. God is a rope made of these strands.

In this theoretical scenario, what would you do?