Chapter 1: The Engineer's Perspective on Existence

In life, mastering various disciplines often provides insights into profound topics such as life and death. My father, a seasoned radio engineer, offers a distinct perspective on death, asserting that it is a concept that doesn’t truly exist.

Photo by Hal Gatewood on Unsplash During discussions about the Scientific Revolution, I frequently posed a question to my students: what is the fastest entity in the universe? After some contemplation and hints from me, they began to reconsider the supremacy of light's speed. Contemplate thought for a moment—its speed remains immeasurable. Thought, in fact, transcends both time and space, a concept closely linked to death and Einstein's theories.

My father embarked on his journey as a radio engineer at the tender age of 15 or 16, crafting an illegal radio to connect with friends and intercept Western broadcasts, despite the interference from KGB operatives. Eventually, he pursued a formal education in radio engineering.

Photo by Alexandr Sadkov on Unsplash A few years back, he and I engaged in one of those timeless conversations about life and death that often resonate through generations. My father's description of humanity was quite fascinating, which I will translate for clarity: Consider a human as a radio transmitter; the soul represents a carrier frequency, while thoughts modulate that frequency. This modulation results in a mentally encoded signal that broadcasts into the cosmos, containing all our thoughts. This information, according to him, is stored in the universe’s database, awaiting the final judgment.

2007. My dad and I in Russia. Photo by author. This is not merely speculative. Recent findings by a group of Russian physicists, led by mathematician Andrey Brusilovskiy, have identified microwave activity in the human brain within the range of 1 to 4 GHz (source). It’s only a matter of time before we can decode and perhaps even capture our thoughts. Now, returning to my father’s perspective on death…

His concept of a universal database reminds me of the Hindu notion of akasha—a special ether or space. I encountered this term in connection with Edgar Cayce, who purportedly accessed the akashic consciousness, an infinite repository of knowledge untethered by time and space.

Photo by MK Hamilton on Unsplash Essentially, when Cayce entered a hypnotic state, his brain appeared to resonate with the akashic frequency, enabling him to seek answers about the past and future alike. Delving into Einstein’s theory of relativity gave me chills, as I learned that Einstein posited the disappearance of time and space alongside matter (our physical reality).

Thus, when matter ceases to exist, we can contemplate infinity (the absence of space) and eternity (the absence of time). If we then accept that thought transcends both time and space, my father's assertions gain even more significance: Thought can be perilous. While an unintentional bad act may occur, a premeditated one carries different weight. The transmission of such information operates at frequencies we have yet to comprehend. Given that a signal emitted requires a corresponding signal received, both light and dark forces can influence us, each carrying either a positive or negative charge. Ultimately, we face a choice, and that choice will determine our eternal fate.

Kai Green’s statement: thoughts manifest into reality. Our thoughts dictate our path. Our vulnerability to negative thoughts often leads to detrimental actions, which may explain the significance of prayer in many faiths. For instance, the concise Jesus prayer is believed to protect us from negative influences. By consciously modulating our thoughts, we strive to maintain our intended course.

If we are indeed radio transmitters, like all material things, our ultimate end is a cemetery, save for our souls that transcend both time and space. The crucial query remains: what charge—positive or negative—will our immaterial souls carry into infinity and eternity? Throughout our lives in this earthly matrix, we endeavor to tune into the correct frequency, whatever that may mean to us.

Photo by Izabel ???? on Unsplash Death serves merely as a passage into an eternal and infinite realm that we have shaped during our lifetime, all while perceiving this material world as our true and everlasting home. I often wish my father and I could delve into discussions with Vladimir Bekhterev and his granddaughter Natalia Bekhtereva, but time is a constant companion in our conversations.

Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash

Chapter 2: Musical Reflections on Life and Death

In "A Father's Song," Allen Stone reflects on the bond between a father and child, touching on themes of love, legacy, and the impact of familial ties on our understanding of existence.

"Jealous of the Angels" offers a poignant narrative about loss and remembrance, revealing how music can encapsulate our feelings about life and death.