Just joined. Fascinating. Here's a little parable I wrote a while back. Best wishes to all.

On The Luck Of Being Human (by Oren Clark)   

Let's assume that there is a God, and that all of Existence is specified in two books God has written.  One book is filled with entries describing every possibility, every relation, every structure, every "thing" or "event", where self-consistent logic holds true long enough to establish distinctions between one form of existence and another.  Let's call that book Mathematical Truth.

In the Book of Mathematical Truth, everything has an equation --- universes, galaxies, stars, planets, life, brains, objects, motes, particles, strings, moments, and so on. And all the equations work, producing the relative space and time, matter, energy and forces we all experience, including consciousness.  

In Book Two, which we'll call Total Chaos, no equation works --- no rules, no relations, no information, no evolution, no time; it is simply a collection of random distributions of bit states with no internal structure. Pure meta-randomness. Book Two describes Nothingness. It isn't necessarily emptiness, but the only allowable "structures" would be the basic bits themselves, arranged such that their sequence is random at all times, with no structure of existence rising out of them. Just a pattern that adds up to and means nothing more than the bits. Maximum entropy in all its configurations.  

Now, let's pretend that every entry in each Book has an identity, and that each of these identities is an option, an Existence vehicle for some kind of soul, like an angel, an amorphous spirit with infinite sensitivity, but dependent on a vehicle for input, processing, and output. Once installed, they become the soul within the machine of that entry. They become, and experience, what it's LIKE to be that equation.  

Since God is presumably in control, one could imagine that, in order for an angel to experience Existence, each one has to come to God to be assigned a vehicle. In turn, each angel approaches God to make the formal request. Now, no self-respecting angel wants to be nothing, no matter how infinite in extension, so God, somewhat petulantly, puts Book Two aside, opens Book One, and fumbles through the pages of possibilities while the angel waits in anticipation. Then God writes down some choices for the angel to consider.  

Choice 1: You can be the entire visible Universe.  

Choice 2: You can be the Milky Way Galaxy.  

Choice 3: You can be the Sun.  

Choice 4: You can be Earth.  

Choice 5: You can be a bolt of lightning.  

Choice 6: You can be an elm tree.  

Choice 7: You can have one minute of human consciousness.  

"One minute?" the angel asks.  God scowls. "What did you expect? Out of the infinitude of Possibility there is only an infinitesimal, finite number of equations that define a human thought. Just think about it. Maybe ten billion humans on one planet with 70 years of life each, versus a boundless extent of infinite non-experiential configurations. To be fair, I have to divvy it up. I'll tell you what ... you can have five minutes as a deer."  

The angel thinks about it.  Endless experiential emptiness vs. consciousness.  A no-brainer.  

The angel turns to God and says, "Give me a human minute."  God nods. Smart angel.  

Conclusion: never take for granted the incredible luck of being human. The entire infinitude of the rest of Existence would trade places with you, even if only for a minute's worth of your experience. Don't waste it.