We all know what “infinity” means but I don’t think we’re capable of conceiving of it. Every now and again as I sit under the moonless midsummer night sky out in the woods and I can see millions of stars blanketing the surface of our pond, our sky, I feel unbelievably small and insignificant and I get a quick glimpse into infinity. It’s a fleeting feeling and as soon as I think I can grab it and maybe understand it, just a bit, it slides through my fingers without a trace and I’m left clutching the air, confused.
Truly being able to conceive of infinity is like being able to conceive of god. Infinity means endless, no border enclosing possibility. Not only is everything possible, everything is actual. If the universe is infinite, there is another version of you “out there” who is a famous movie star. Another version who is a heroin-addicted bum. And these versions are no less valid than you are, here, now.
If the universe is infinite, every possible outcome of this current life is being actualized. Every little decision you’ve made in your life has been made differently in a different world or a different dimension, and the resultant “you” is out there living life just as you are living life right now, but with potentially large differences. Maybe other yous are dead.
Taking it a step further, if the universe is infinite, there are other identical Earths except a single grain of sand on a remote beach is in a different placement than this Earth. Infinite Earths with every possible number of grains of sand in every possible configuration. After all, that’s what infinity is, right? Unending. Boundless. As we try to imagine the end of the expanding universe, it expands faster than our thoughts, beyond our wildest dreams, and we’ll never catch up. Every possible configuration of every atom. Is your mind orgasming yet or has it gone completely limp?
When I think of infinity in this way, much like looking up at the beautiful, black sky with all of the sparkling suns and planets and galaxies, I feel like a tiny, clueless ant who will never understand more than the tiniest little sliver of an insignificantly small planet in an insignificantly small corner of an infinite universe. And it feels good.
While in a sense we may be no more than ants, as humans we have infinite creativity. We can sit in a chair and imagine different scenarios and creations forever. There is no limit on what we can imagine. I just looked out the window and imagined the large maple tree in my yard being a mile high and it spontaneously exploded in a brilliant white light, its flaming leaves floating down toward the earth, each leaf spontaneously growing its own maple tree 100 miles high, reaching up into space. I soared to the tops of the hundreds of maples and looked out over our planet, blue oceans, white clouds, night lights in different cities. Our sun shone upon me and smiled.
Inasmuch as we have infinite creativity, we all have god within us. We are god. When we die and are freed from our physical shells to return home, we will be unrestrained by our human filters and will once again be able not only to connect with those occasional, fleeting feelings of infinity as we travel through the stars and galaxies, but we will be able to fully embrace and comprehend them. We will be the definition of infinity. I take comfort in that.