If you go outside on a clear, crisp, cold night and look up at the sky you will see a few hundred stars. If you get out of the city, where the light pollution is less, you may even see a couple of thousand stars. Each star out there is, was, or will be a star like our own sun; each star could have its own orbiting solar system. Each star is another chance at life in our galaxy.
When you go out on this cloudless night and gaze up at the stars you are seeing only a small fraction of all the stars in that direction in our galaxy; there are more stars in the direction you are looking, and more directions to look in. And that is just our galaxy. There is 2-4 hundred billion galaxies out there. And each one will be a little like our own. And that is just the universe of our reality.
It might not be a scientific idea, but there is a theory that every time something happens it forms another reality where that thing did not happen: every time you’ve said “no”, there is a reality where you said “yes”; there are two realities for each quantum bit, one where it’s a particle and one where it’s a wave; every time you hated there is a reality where you loved; there could be a reality where you did have that extra drink and another where you didn’t go out at all. For every probabilistic thing that has ever happened, there is a reality for each outcome. (“Freewill” could be probabilistic and still not really freewill.)
So there is a reality out there where I didn’t screw this up, and another where I did but I am happy nonetheless. So here’s the game I hope to influence you to play: given that all the realities exist anyway, try to occupy the one you’d be proud to be in.
And with that in mind, I am going to Bristol today to optimistically await news of an interview.