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Things to do While Dead

by on July 6, 2017

                                                                    Things To Do While Dead

                                                                          by Marco M. Pardi

 “On him does death lie heavily, who, but too well known to all, dies to himself unknown.” Seneca the Younger. (5?BCE – 65 CE). Thyestes 1. 400.


All comments welcome.  To those readers who have been hesitant to comment or ask questions, please be assured you may do so freely. In recent days several new people have signed on as followers, enabling them to comment freely, and it is hoped they will. All previous posts are open for comment by clicking on “uncategorized”. Reader participation keeps this site vibrant. MMP


I should briefly reiterate some positions I’ve stated before. 1. I define belief as: Acceptance without proof.  I do not believe. 2. I see beyond the conventional dyad of: No “afterlife” versus “afterlife” must therefore include a god. My experience, of which I’ve written often, supports my conclusion that life is incarnate and discarnate at the same time, “after” being only an illusion arising from materiality and our material structure of time. Hopefully, that obviates the need for further discussion along those lines.

Two more clarifications: Anyone who has Googled Marco M. Pardi has likely seen entries citing my endorsement of a book written by a physician following her son’s suicide.  In fact, I was asked to provide that endorsement. And if you read it you will see I specifically spoke to the courage of the physician in writing a book which could certainly be harmful to her career.  As for the content, were it not for the fact the medium through which the book was written is a decades long friend I would have put the book straight in the recycle bin.

Finally, although I’ve written some dark stuff lately, please do not feel I’ve turned toward the Light, in hopes of going through Door Number 4. That will come in due time. As a side note, I want to be fully conscious and aware of the process, the last chance to put everything in perspective; I reject the idea of studying for the Final all my life and then sleeping through it.

So, what to do when I close that door behind me?  As a child I firmly determined that if I were condemned to spend eternity floating around strumming a harp all day I would disassemble the harp, fashion the strings into a noose, and hang myself.  But the problem of hanging one’s self while floating, though it has perhaps contributed to my lifelong interest in physics, has so far proved intractable.

In recent years we’ve seen a few popular books on the people you meet in “heaven” – heaven being open to interpretation.  Perhaps it’s my legacy as a loner, but I never thought much about meeting people after death.  I always thought more of exploration, especially with my dogs, horses, and cat (yes, I’m entirely confident, based on experience and not belief, that non-human animal companions are as fully vested in discarnate life as I am).  Maybe they aren’t as curious about the Cosmos as I am, but hopefully I can get them to tag along.  Much of the woo-woo and even the serious literature suggests discarnate beings hang around Earth.  This is not to be confused with “Earthbound”,  a condition arising from failure to accept one’s self as dead. C’mon, who can be that dumb?  No, it just suggests discarnate beings, whether people or otherwise, exist in a kind of halo around the planet. This must be a hassle, what with the satellites whizzing around and the occasional missile leaving the atmosphere. And how about those meteorites? No, I want to explore the Cosmos. Fully. Of course, one might wonder why bother.  So much of what we learn is done so we may impart it to others.  But when I’m dead, who’s listening?

I certainly wouldn’t say I’ve seen all there is on this planet. But traveling since about age 4, including a career which for a long time had me living with a go-pack in the closet, complete with two passports and various identity papers, has dimmed my enthusiasm for the hassles of putting up with zealous border guards and transportation which is more of a free expression of culture than a reliable resource.  Thanks, but I’ll catch the travel documentary on tv.

Most of the people I’ve known I really don’t want to meet again, especially family. Aside from the obvious figures, like Siddhartha Gautama, the Dalai Lama, and a few others there are a couple I would like to meet up – or down – with.  One guy keeps coming to mind. Maybe he’s floating nearby.

In 1964 I was doing lone night duty at Hotel Control, the security facility for the “Hotel” ICBM complex. Golf Control and India Control flanked us, somewhere out there. The ten seismographs were scritching quietly, the sensors on the ten dispersed ICBMs were quiet (some bright star had rigged the skin temp. sensors with a come hither female voice which said, “My skin temperature is rising”), the inside lights were dim, and I was listening to a really moving radio speech by Martin Luther King.  Just then Sgt (I’ll call him Sgt P.) stepped into the control room from where he had been eavesdropping. Sgt P was in charge of the housekeeping at the facility; we spent 10 days and nights on site and two off.  I referred to him as the Maitre d’Hotel, apropos our site designation.  A formidable looking man, he was what we now call African-American.  The scars on his face gave him something of a Picasso figure look.  I never asked, but I assumed he had brought a squirt gun to a knife fight, more than once.

Seeing my involvement in Dr. King’s speech, he sat down and waited for it to end.  We then had a real mind to mind conversation which, given the normal 12 – 14 hour duty shift, seemed timeless. I think things like that were unusual in 1964, especially in the military and between two men in completely different career fields.       

He talked about how his life would have been so different if slavery had not occurred.  He mused about being brought up in an African village, illiterate and picking the most obese girl to marry.  And more.  Having recently transferred in from postings in Africa I saw things differently.  And looking back later I could see how he had internalized American myths about African village life.  He was, after all, an American.

So I wonder about the much vaunted meetings with intellects who have preceded me.  Have they developed away from the cultural milieu which produced them?  Were I to so develop, free of the cultural themes through which I have come to know myself, would I still be me?  Who is my EGO once my time/space/cultural boundaries dissolve? Once I realize and come to accept those boundaries, and all they contain, as no longer relevant? And how does this development happen?

While the physics community and the medical community are quickly coming to accept the reality of separation of mind and brain and the continuation of mind long after brain death, there is little serious material on what to do with that mind.  True, as scientists and other intellectuals are coming to feel their freedom in this foolishly materialistic culture we hear more about how their work has been inspired (“in-spire” coming from the sense of the intrusion of another mind into one’s own) by what they fully accept – not believe – as discarnate predecessors.  But these notes are still sung only in the closed opera houses of the scientific/academic community.  The “common man” does not even bother to try entering.

So the broad field is left open.  If Nature abhors a vacuum, possibly stupidity does too.  In rush the purveyors of “eternal bliss”, “love beyond anything ever known”, and on and on.  Unnoticed in all this orgasmic rapture is a simple fact.  Something is what it is by contrast with what it is not.  And, where there is no contrast what IS quickly becomes the routine, the “same old same old”.  There are no week-ends in the afterlife if there are no Mondays.   

As children we slogged through the school year, visions of summer vacation bliss making life worthwhile.  It arrived and was blissful……..until it wasn’t.  As young adults we feel deeply in love, visions of marital bliss making life worthwhile.  It arrived and was blissful….until it wasn’t.  As workers we sold our lives for a paycheck, visions of retirement bliss making it all worthwhile.  Retirement arrived and was blissful……until we started looking for something to do.

Your once new car no longer a dream boat?  You can buy a spray can of “new car smell” at an auto parts store. Your life no longer a joy?  You can buy and endless assortment of New Age woo-woo books, attend a variety of classes from storefront gurus, hire a spiritual counselor. Then die.

For those who accept (not merely believe) the greatly increasing apparent reality of non-corporeal existence – the mind functioning independently of the body, here’s a thought: As far as you are concerned you are as dead now as you are ever going to be.  Not seeing that means you have bought into other people’s definitions as the ultimate reality. They look at and listen to your body and pronounce you not dead. But the bag of meat you’re sitting in while reading this will one day fall over and not get up.  So?

When one sees the self as more than its wrapper, when one sees the self as the expression of every other being that has ever been, is now, and is coming the opportunities for exploration and understanding are in fact endless.  A simple change in perspective opens Door Number 4.  And we realize it was never there to begin with.

p.s. I still want to ride my horses through the Cosmos.



From → Uncategorized

  1. Michael E. Stamm permalink

    This is, quite simply, extraordinary; the best–and by that I mean “probably most important”–thing I’ve read in months, maybe years. And it gives me hope of a kind I thought was lost long ago. I’ve been retired for almost two years now, and the absence of purpose (aside from immediate needs, which seem increasingly pointless) has been very troubling. But now I feel the impulse to really consider other options, those thought of as available and perhaps others as well.

    Tangentially, I think you might want to read STARDANCE, by my friend Spider Robinson and his late wife Jeanne. It is fiction, but I think it addresses some of the concerns you bring up. I’m going to recommend this post (and by extension the others) to both him and my cousin, who’s a year younger but who has been having some of the same questions. Thanks for writing this.


    • Mike. I am truly at a loss for words to express how meaningful it is to me that you found this important. I am also deeply grateful that you have forwarded my site on to others. Though your description of them is brief, I feel there is meaning there and I hope to connect with that, even if only through reading the book you recommend.

      Thank you for taking the time to read and comment. Marco


  2. You have the most extensive research and knowledge about death and what happens after death of anyone I know. I greatly value your opinion on this topic. I find what you say here not only plausible, but it offers a great comfort.


    • Thank you, Mary. I was called Dr Death and the Death Man in the early 70’s, but Dr Korvorkian stole my thunder. I do very much appreciate your assessment of an area I have studied carefully.


  3. Ray Z Rivers permalink

    I have an older brother who claims he wants to die at his desk. It’s not a real fancy job, working as a purchasing agent, but it seems to be all he wants in life, that, his son and grandson. Not all of us do all the things we could or should or perhaps shouldn’t. But he is happy, I guess. He’s not a church-goer but he may believe – we’ve never had that conversation.

    But it wouldn’t matter for me because I expect no millennial tour around the cosmos when the fatal day arrives – though it’s a nice illusion. Great piece of writing Marco – one of your best. And I don’t think it is depressing, though it is deep.


    • Thank you, Ray. Your brother reminds me of Hermann Hesse’ Siddhartha, who chose to live out his post enlightenment life poling a river raft back and forth across the same river. As you know, I’m certainly not a believer in a god and have often explained the four part paradigm as it relates to death. Your brother, as who he is, seems to be doing what he feels he is all about. Only he would know that.

      I’m very glad you enjoyed the piece. Who knows, maybe we’ll run into each other – somewhere – but I promise not to say I told you so. Marco


  4. Dana permalink

    Marco, I am looking forward to seeing you riding your horses through the Cosmos. As for me, I hope to get to know my paternal grandmother who died when I was ten. She has ways of making her presence known to me.

    I’m looking forward to being reunited with my three dogs. And I certainly wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to explore the Cosmos with Benjamin Franklin.

    The thought of dying in my sleep is a frightening one. I really want to know what is happening.


    • Thank you, Dana. I’m so glad to see you here again. I’m betting Benjamin has learned a lot more about electricity and must wonder what other experiments he has been up to.

      Yes, I’m certain there will be a crowd of doggies – and others – but I may have “time” for my paternal grandfather who, though dead before I was born, made himself very clearly known to Jamie.

      I can just imagine the critical analysis you will write up following your death event.


  5. My thoughts on death should be well known to you, but I do wonder what may come between the end of corporeal existence and the possibility of reincarnation. If people we have known in this life are somewhere waiting for us, do they look, sound, or think the same as they did here? Perhaps not; I can’t imagine our true essence looks like the body in which we now live, but without that, how will we recognize each other? Will it be in the same manner in which we recognize those who resonate with us in this lifetime? If this is true, then perhaps we will see each other again on the other side. I look forward to many more of our conversations, without a bell ringing to tell us to more on. I don’t look forward to disincarnation, but whether or not we come back here, I enjoy knowing that this life is not the end.


    • Thank you, Rose. You raise the same questions I have. When we see the irrelevance of so much of what we now consider important, including how we define ourselves, who are we?

      I do think it sad that so many people reject the non-corporeal existence because, for them, it means a god of some kind. But I have no doubt we will continue our conversations, and maybe go for long horseback rides.


  6. jkent33 permalink

    This post built a clear mental picture of what many see when their demise draws upon them. I have little fear of dying, in fact most of my life since spending a tumultuous childhood dotted with bouts of poor health, both mental and physical, I never figured my life longer than say early 30s. Depression was always nearby, allergies to everything, one health scare after another appeared on the horizons. Around 35 I found myself living alone, in a great rewarding career I went through a NDE while visiting a dentist. Hyper sensitive to all forms of drugs I nearly died. During that first NDE I felt supreme peace and quiet but found the will at the last minute to turn around. I now see life happy full of new energy ready for the next decades. What it will be like when I die is rarely something in my thoughts. My thoughts are filled with hedonistic ways to live for the day. Your portrayal of our past animals, family, places visited, a spiritual afterlife and my so called rewards never fit the profile of my pragmayic way of thinking. Despite all the BS about heaven I was forced to hear as a child, is as believable as bugs bunny and Santa Claus. When I read about people, upon hearing of others misfortunes, repeatedly lay out a string of prayers for them, makes me think of a terrible mental illness. I offer my love, understanding, compassion and thoughts of promise to assist. Its what I want to hear if I request help. Thank you for sharing your thoughts about what we do after death. If our paths cross which I believe they will let’s talk about transportation in the cosmos, shooting pool while zooming, dining on tasty treats, donning our coolest duds and visiting places we deem worthy of two dudes living the high life thinking about the low life when the fun resides!! Thanks, Space Cowboy…that silver saddle is dashing!


    • Thank you, Jerry. You have had, and are having, a life rich with experiences.You and I share disdain for the shallow thinking so many apply to the things they claim most valuable to them. I’m certain our paths will cross, if one can say “path” in infinity. But I expect I will have left my earthbound desires and enjoyments behind. I will, however, cherish my non-human animal companions and will ride with you. If you haven’t already done so, take some lessons. I chose to never use a saddle or to allow one on my horses. And, what the heck, how do you fall off in infinity anyway?


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