Every Breath You Take is a Wager
So, you might as well live as if final death, Pascal's Wager, reincarnation, and eternal recurrence were all simultaneously true.
At Underthrow, you will find some relevant but ephemeral articles and others that are perhaps more evergreen. The former type attracts more readers. The latter, comparatively fewer. But the older I get, I find the words of the dead far more compelling than those of the living, because they wrote not for this week but for next century. Future minds are my latifundium, but I want to thank those who grant me the discipline to seek the slow burn of posterity over the fireworks of the attention economy. I write for my scions and yours.
Death comes for us all. Four wisemen have different things to say after the word therefore.
Live as if this is all there is—no second chances, encores, or anything but teardrops on your urn.
Live as if there is an afterlife and the Highest is its host, for eternal bliss or hell awaits if this exists. If not, you lose comparatively little.
Live as if your actions shape your next life, as if living virtuously could help you ascend a cosmic ladder in ever-greater states of being and becoming.
Live as if you'll repeat this life infinitely. If every moment recurs, say in an oscillating universe, you’ll want to make each moment worth repeating.
Bright robes analyze the above to make a single choice. Dark robes ignore them all outright. Our order weaves these possibilities into a higher truth under a blood-red moon.
The Color of Liminality
Grey is not the absence of color but the presence of all—the hue of uncertainty, the pigment of possibility, and the values of light and dark comingled.
When you think about what happens after you die, consider the possibilities and assign probabilities to the four. Do so this month and again the next. How do these weightings determine your practice today?
Answers are ether. Practice is everything.
Live with purpose, for if this is the sum of life, you've made every breath count.
Live with reverence for the All, for if there’s an afterlife, you will be judged fit for it.
Live with virtue, for if you’re destined to return, your next incarnation will be an ascent.
Live with passion, for if this life recurs, you've made it magnificent.
How will you live? Everyone must make a wager.
The Immortal Society
Weaving these strands together creates a tapestry of purpose, reverence, virtue, and passion—in a life richly lived. To embrace all four is to tune your spirit to the harmony of the many. No matter what happens after you die, you don't just prepare for that eventuality, you will transform the world you inhabit now.
A society of purposeful, reverent, virtuous, and passionate individuals will achieve immortality. Such a society builds temples that outlast generations, nurtures ideas that reshape epochs, and inspires greatness that will echo through time.
As the blood moon rises, will you live as if only one possibility after death holds? Or will you weave them all into a life so rich that one about to be born would wish he could live it?
Beautiful, Max. Thank you.
Bravo! Whitman's "I contain multitudes" springs to mind as soon as I finished reading your essay.