I’ve spoken at length about the nature of the terrestrial plane and the people who make their miserable little lives upon it, but I’ve not held true to my initial promise of revealing secrets that stretch beyond the mundane. After all, any fool, given enough time, can glean the information I’ve assembled here, and some have. Of course, they don’t have my flair for commentary, but you already know that, otherwise you’d be reading them instead of me.
So here a secret you may not know: the vast majority of the people in the world do not know there exists planes besides their own. As previously mentioned, the multiverse refers to all realms including and besides our own. The sheep of the world, those every tyrant wishes to rule, have no idea that there are planes beyond the material. Religion has infused some with the knowledge that some reward awaits after death, a misinformed and misguided notion, by the way, but even those are a small percentage to the whole.
If you know that there is such a thing as the Shadowfell, then you are in the infinitesimal percentile of your population. If you’ve ever been there, then you are one of a handful. If you’ve been to every plane of existence, then you must be a very handsome and well-regarded playboy, because only one person has ever done such a thing.
You can attempt to follow in my footsteps, but believe me when I say that those prints are mired in violence and struggle the likes of which you are likely to never again see. My romp through the multiverse did two things.
First, it cost me my wife and my firstborn son.
Second, it brought illumination.
It wasn’t come triggered synapse that fired off and brought me to the pinnacle of understanding, no, nothing so magical as that. The illumination I gained from traveling the multiverse came from perspective. There is nothing in this world or the next…or the next, or the next, that will bring you to understanding moreso than seeing your place in the grand scheme of things. Some would call it humbling.
I called it infuriating.
When I concluded my journey, I was tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally, and metaphysically. Understanding that you don’t matter at all to so many people caused me to snap. I knew that I was important before I made that trip, I knew it with every fiber of my being. We have all felt that. To ourselves, we are the most important people in the world. No one can feel like we do. No one experiences beauty and love like we do. No one can understand the depths of our souls like ourselves. But every single person in the world feels the exact same way.
We are all goldfish, swimming in our bowls, circling the sand castle and believing that no one knows like we do. The day you realize that every knows like you do is the day you are presented a choice. You can accept the fact that you actually are a goldfish…
…or you can slam your head against the glass over and over until you die or the bowl cracks. I slammed my goldfish head against the glass for years until I was sure that I was more special than anyone else; that my experiences mattered more than anyone else’s.
Because here is the deal, children. We don’t matter. Even the gods, who fancy themselves supreme import, are meaningless in the face of what exists out there. I have seen beasts the size of worlds slumbering for millennia while civilizations unaware of its existence labor to survive beneath its girth. That’s not a metaphor. I have literally seen that.
I have watched wars being waged for matter so important that I could not even grasp their severity. I have swam an endless ocean until my arms failed me and I drifted to its bottom, certain of death, only to find that I could breathe its waters.
I have found that no single person matters. Little actions sew little effect. Big actions sew big effects.
And you cannot act big trapped in a bowl.
That is true illumination.