Let's say you meet a multi-dimensional being capable of moving through universe after universe, up and down the chain of multi-dimensional reality. He has existed forever and will exist forevermore. He can be anywhere he wants, do as he wants, think as he wants, and he knows who and what he is, which is everything--both energy as well as matter. Only one problem: as a consequence of being everything, he's completely alone. That's right, because he contains all and is all, there is no other thing out there for him to interact with and give him that needed context. Therefore, after an infinite length of time twiddling his thumbs, he becomes so bored that he says the words, "screw it," and suddenly divides in two distinct halves which pretty much look like the opposite of one another. Directly after the division is the precise moment in which you meet him. But you both are immediately aware of this and know that you are no more than a division of the same multi-dimensional being, so in order for you to continue playing the game in this grand experiment, each of you pull out a massive frying pan and thwap each other on the head as hard as possible at the same time.

Ouch.

After the dull throb kind of wears off and the hazy ringing in your eyes and ears ceases and you get some focus, you are aware of some intriguing property you now both have: you can no longer grasp any such thing as infinity at all--you have been born with limits. In conjunction with this event, you realize that your self-induced brain damage has caused your perception to stop somewhere around seven. What does that mean? Well, from now on, you can only hear seven tones distinctly: A,B,C,D,E,F, and G. You can only see seven colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. You can feel hot and cold, and about five tastes. You can only think of seven sins and seven virtues. You can only fold paper seven times. Yes, everything now seems to have limits--whatever that is. And your ability to abstract concepts in your imagination seems to stop somewhere along the lines of seven overlapping analogies as well. People will get close to breaking that limit, such as Einstein who overlapped the concepts of space, time, energy, matter, light and gravity, but everything else gets lost in a weird sort of grayness when they try to tack on any more analogies. All those ways in which you were previously able to perceive things are just gone. But at the same time, your singular loss has a tremendous gain: welcome to the universe!

For a lack of a better term, we'll call this place Seven. That's right. Both me and you have an ability to reproduce, to proclaim what is right and wrong, to distinguish ourselves from one another, to fall in love, to hate, to do whatever it is that we want to do just as we did before, only do so with a perceptual limiting twist of approximately seven. That will be our number here, our "frequency calling card" if you will. All of our math and physics that we'll create will have clues to our game (black holes, strange loops, perceptual-jumping electrons and what not), but our frequency limitation of seven will prevent us from absolutely seeing, feeling, and being 'everything' once again. I mean, seven is not even close to infinity! Even more interesting, because we are carbon copies of one other, we have the same ability to divide, just as we apparently did before. In which case, who knows what kind of intricate fun we all may have because not only will there be two of us, there could also be an infinite amount of us as well! I'll never know what it is that I, as a you, might do. I mean, just look at the variety our perception can create with seven--all the songs that can be written, all the paintings about things that we will call "the human condition." But it will really be the condition of a connected consciousness dividing itself on purpose and limiting itself to a vibration that has something to do with seven. And if this is what we can do with seven, just imagine what an infinity of tones, an infinity of colors, an infinity of tastes and smells would do back home.

But we will only play the game of seven for a short while. The older we get, the more we'll know it's a game and it just won't mean as much. Things which were initially fun won't be as fun anymore. We'll get sad. We'll miss the way it once was and we'll look forward to re-entering infinity once again. When we get to that stage, we'll remember what it was like before life and we'll even come up with a name for it. That's right. We'll call it heaven. What will it mean? We won't quite know because of the game we are playing, but it's a shorthand, you see. It actually means "higher-than-seven." Heaven, for short. It's something I saw a long time ago.

I was born dead, you see. Stuck in the womb for hours. The doctors revived me by restarting my heart. Perhaps it was a choice to come back after I saw what I did even though I knew I would be damaged for the rest of my life. Perhaps I felt maybe I could offer a few words to another one of me who needed it at this precise moment. Yes..that "something" made me come back to play. That something gives me a context.

That something is you.

The rest is just a game.