Matter is defined by its properties—length, width, weight, color, and temperature. When explaining matter, we usually refer to tangible objects like a table, a door, or a car. However, matter exists on a vast scale, from the smallest known particles to the vast expanse of outer space. One often-overlooked criterion of matter is time. Just as we consider physical or chemical properties, we should also think about the chronological aspect of matter.

Criteria define identity. Any change in a criterion alters the identity of the object. If we cut a stick shorter, it becomes a different stick with similar characteristics. Similarly, if we consider time as a criterion, an object that remains physically unchanged is still different over time. My car in 2020 and the same car in 2021, even in identical physical condition, are distinct because their chronological criteria have changed. Extending this idea, even an unchanged calcium molecule is different from itself one second later due to the passage of time.

As humans, our physical existence changes constantly. We are never the same person twice. Every moment brings a new version of ourselves. Despite this, we perceive time as a continuous flow. This suggests that while our physical form changes, there is something relatively stable within us—something that observes and remembers the passage of time. If this stable element did not exist, we would not be able to recall our past experiences or recognize time’s flow.

Our nonphysical existence is not bound by time in the same way our bodies are. Physically, we exist in a three-dimensional world, but our nonphysical essence extends into a four-dimensional reality where time is the fourth dimension. Our bodies do not travel through time; instead, we experience time through memories. In this sense, our physical form is like a spacesuit, continuously changing as we move through life.

This perspective suggests that our nonphysical existence relies on our physical bodies to navigate both three-dimensional and four-dimensional realities. When our bodies cease to function—when we die—we can no longer exist in the three-dimensional world, though we may still perceive it. If our nonphysical existence also ceases at some point, that would be a transition beyond our current understanding.

Much like an astronaut discards a spacesuit upon returning home, we might one day leave behind our physical form. While science has not confirmed this, it also has not disproven it. Science, as we know it, is limited to empirical observations within the three-dimensional world. This idea challenges conventional views of life and death, making the latter seem less daunting. When we think of life as existing within a temporary suit, death may feel more like a transition than an absolute end.

Imagine a world where death is not the ultimate fear. A society where people live fully without feeling betrayed by death. In such a world, suicide may no longer be seen as an escape, but as an impractical and unnecessary migration. Just as real-world migration requires eligibility, suitability, and a proper process, so too would any transition beyond physical life. Many who seek to migrate illegally face hardship, suffering, or even death in the process. This analogy reinforces the idea that life is valuable and should not be discarded hastily.

This perspective on existence may not answer all questions, but it provides a way to view life and death with greater acceptance. By understanding our existence beyond just the physical, we may find peace in knowing that the journey continues, even if the form changes.