The Great Big Theory Of Everything

With today being the kickoff of long weekends both north and south of the border, the entire continent is getting ready for a few days of beer, BBQ’s and bacchanalia, all in the name of nationalistic pride. Yet given what the Independence Day and Canada Day holidays represent – freedom from England by might and by right, respectively – there’s a not-so-subtle irony about a people coming together to celebrate separation. While it may seem strange to think of holidays typically associated with unity in this way, this perspective fits right in with The Great Big Theory Of Everything.

Before I touch on this any further, let me make it clear that I’m not a religious guy. My belief structure is built on luck, timing and certain aspects of fate, which probably qualifies me as a weekend spiritualist at best. I make decisions based on a moral compass as opposed to a dogma or doctrine, and go through my day being superstitious in a quiet enough way that few people know I am. This isn’t to say that I have something against religion or anyone who finds comfort in one of the world’s churches – some of the greatest people I’ve known are devout followers of different faiths and many religions have aspects that I find greatly appealing. In the end, however, I’ve never found a faith that was “the whole package” and, as a result, choose to subscribe to my own system of belief.

Now comes the obvious question: Why am I putting all this out there? Simply to make it clear that this theory doesn’t originate with any one religion or faith. Let’s just call it a rich tapestry – an equal opportunity concept – and leave it at that. And now that the disclaimer’s out of the way, let’s get on to what the theory is and how it ties in with the holiday.

As I mentioned before, there are certain broad-stroke concepts to religion that I find appealing. One of these concepts – common to Greek, Hindu and African traditions – is that of reincarnation. For those of you coming to the party late, the idea is that upon death, your soul is reborn into a new earthly form based on how virtuous you were in life. In essence, if you come back as the guy who’s dating that girl who works at the swimsuit store down the street – the one with the cute dimples when she smiles – chances are you did something right. And if you come back as a dung beetle, it’s a safe bet that you were probably a dick. The end goal is to lead a virtuous enough life that you achieve spiritual transcendence, finally shuffling off thine mortal coil and joining the party upstairs. Pretty cool stuff, right?

Well…yes and no.

While the concept is incredibly appealing, just think about it for a minute. If the idea is to lead a life that’s completely noble, virtuous and free of sin, how long would that take? How long could you avoid a minor lapse in moral fortitude? How many times would you be sent back to the jail of another earthly form without passing go, without collecting $200?

I’ll go ahead and say it for you – an infinite number of times. And that’s where the theory comes in.

The universe is a one-player game that’s never been won.

Given the very nature of life here on Earth – the competitive, cutthroat nature of existence in general – there’s no conceivable means of beating the system. And if it’s that’s accepted as a given, it can only mean that the same soul has been reincarnated countless times as every rock, tree, plant, animal and person in the history of the planet, hoping each time to get a little closer to absolution. I’m you, you’re me and we’re both everyone and everything else, all in different stages of existence, all sharing the same soul.

So it only makes sense that we join together to celebrate being apart, for that’s the very dichotomy of existence – we’re all united and yet independent at the exact same time, locked in a waltz that will perpetuate itself until the end of time.

At least, that’s the theory.