Atheist Dies

I am basically an atheist, and always have been. I say “basically” because I acknowledge that I don’t know everything about the universe, and it’s conceivable that there is a benevolent force behind everything, although it probably doesn’t belong to any of our human-created religions.

But now I’ve died.

Lying in a hospital bed, my heart beats for the last time, and I fade away.

All my life, I thought death was eternal nothingness. I believed wholeheartedly that being dead was just like not being born yet. And I am ready for it. I’ve lived a good life, and now it’s the end.

In my final breath, I think, this is it.

Here comes the nothingness.

Here it comes.

Instead, I hear it.

The wordless voice.

Music and light swells all around me. I feel the benevolent force on my face, and I am welcomed home. Now I remember. Of course. Of course there is a god, if that’s what you want to call it. This is not a place - not a Heaven or Hell - this is the invisible current from where it all sprung. And it feels warm and inviting, it feels motherly and creative, and instead of blackness forever, I am overcome with the comfort of knowing that yes, there was a consciousness there all along. There was a method to the madness, a reason to the story, there was a watcher, a listener, and now I will exist in this happy surprise.

This atheist is embraced by the tingling energy of the universe, becoming a part of it again, until it’s my time to start another life.