I’m beginning to question the necessity of entropy. Must everything degrade? Bodies, buildings, roadways, relationships? Almost everything that goes on my to-do list is related to mitigating deterioration, either of humans and felines or of our environment. “New roof“ has been on every list since we moved here in 2000 (“roof needs replacement,” warned the pre-purchase inspection report). Twenty-three years later, it’s still occupying space in my head.
My understanding of the higher dimensions is sketchy at best. But I simply can’t imagine that beings who inhabit that level are preoccupied with putting a new roof on the old homestead.
Degradation is apparently built in to third dimensional existence (perhaps artificially so by the planetary controllers, at least in part). The cycles of death and rebirth are a given, a fact humans are inculcated with early on.
At least in Western culture, we are also entrained with an adversarial relationship to this inevitable deterioration. We take it as a personal affront when things break down—the anxiety, the inconvenience, the expense.
I doubt that there are many humans on this planet who delight in the passage of time and the accompanying changes wrought upon their physical vessel.
If time as we know it is a construct that only exists on 3D Earth, does that mean that if time transmutes, so, too, will unavoidable entropy? Many are convinced that once we’re fully in 5D, we can exist in our current bodies as long as we wish—thousands of years, which feels a lot like immortality to me.
Many sources say that our bodies will become fully crystalline-based rather than carbon-based. I presume that this bodily reconstruction (as well as inhabiting a post-Ascension world) is how this near-immortality could occur.
It would be wonderful to effortlessly maintain healthy stasis, with perhaps a few med bed tuneups here and there, rather than the perpetual parade of medical interventions many of us endure increasingly as we age.
It seems selfish to gleefully anticipate potential near-immortality when I’m not at all sure it applies, or could apply, to the animal kingdom and to the plants and other lifeforms inhabiting Earth.
It’s probably unrealistic to hope that the beings I love most will also spontaneously transfer into the dimension of agelessness. Can a cat live forever? Can an elderly person be regenerated into a vibrantly healthy 35-year-old version of themselves, and still retain the human essence that they are?
Will aware and awake humans gladly drop the burden of physical discomforts and put them in the rearview mirror? Even if it means volunteering for a kind of memory wipe and looking only forward, forward?
I would be delighted if I never had to make another list. If scrumptious meals materialized when I addressed the replicator, so I need never go to a grocery store again. If entropy were conquered, surely the roof would reinvent itself and never require repair, and the beings within my realm of responsibility would no longer degenerate but embody healthy stasis in the rarefied atmosphere in and beyond 5D.
We won’t be hampered by the maintenance and upkeep of this heavy physical world; we (and our environment) will be healthy and well-maintained without the perpetual, and ultimately fruitless, effort now required.
Or so I hope. Frankly, if the golden age of our 5D future doesn’t include homeostasis for all who wish it, it hardly sounds heavenly to me.
So I will put that in my cauldron of wishes, add a few pinches of lavender and powdered stardust, and stir it with a dollop of honey. Even if it’s all in my imagination, I’m sure the potion will have power, if I wish it so.