Scientists Say the ‘Soul’ Does Not Die, it ‘Returns to the Universe’

Since the beginning of time, humans have asked the question: “What happens to us after we die?”.
Religious or spiritual people often believe in a heaven or afterlife. Some believe that nothing happens to us; we just die. Others, however, believe that our souls live on after we die. A couple of researchers say that they have the science to that this might be a possibility. (1)

The Soul Doesn’t Die When Our Bodies Do
After extensive research, two experts are saying that while our bodies die, our consciousness – or our soul – lives on forever. Quantum mechanics, they say, makes this possible. Quantum mechanics is the science dealing with the behavior of matter at the atomic and subatomic levels. It accounts for the properties of molecules and atoms, and the things that make them. (2) This includes (2):

Neurons
Electrons
Protons
Quarks
Gluons
Other esoteric particles
Scientists Stuart Hameroff and Sir Roger Penrose say consciousness is simply information stored at this quantum level. (1)

Orchestrated Objective Reduction
The pair say that this storage process is Orchestrated Objective Reduction (Orch-OR). This is via a structural component of human cells, protein-based microtubules, that carry quantum information. (1, 3)

“Let’s say the heart stops beating, the blood stops flowing; the micro-tubules lose their quantum state,” explains Dr. Hameroff. “The quantum information within the micro-tubules is not destroyed, it can’t be destroyed, and it just distributes and dissipates to the universe at large.” (1)

He says that if the person is resuscitated, then the information just goes back into the microtubules, and the person becomes conscious again. This is what we call a “near-death experience.” If, instead, the patient dies, then their consciousness can possibly exist outside of the body as a soul. (1)

Our Physical Universe Is Just Our Perception
Researchers from the Max Planck Institute for Physics in Munich say that there is an infinite beyond after death. According to them, the world we live in is just our perception and that our souls go into this infinite beyond when our bodies die. (1)

“What we consider the here and now, this world, it is actually just the material level that is comprehensible,” says Dr Hans-Peter Durr from the institute. “The beyond is an infinite reality that is much bigger.” (1)

Hameroff and Penrose’s research shows that consciousness comes from deeper level microtubule vibrations. This not only helps us to better understand what the human consciousness is, but may also help treat mental, neurological, and cognitive conditions. (3)

What do you think? Do you think our souls live on after we die?

I Allowed a Homeless Woman to Stay in My Garage—One Day I Walked in Unannounced and Was Shocked by What I Saw

I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.

She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”

Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”

“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”

“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”

“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.

“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.

Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.

One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.

That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”

Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”

“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.

She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.

Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.

My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.

“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.

“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”

“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”

“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.

We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.

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