A frail, elderly Buddhist monk reclined in his bed in a small, clean, unadorned bedroom in the early evening. Several acolytes surrounded the bed. His breathing was raspy and shallow. One of the acolytes asked, with tears in her eyes, if he was comfortable.

He replied softly, pausing every few seconds to catch his breath, “Pain is a… mindfulness bell… I will leave… this body soon… I am at peace… your tears will pass… one day… your body will too… my death… is my final lesson… to you… meditate on… impermanence… focus your mind… on the nature… of ultimate reality.”

Visibly exhausted from speaking, the monk closed his eyes and soon fell into a fitful sleep. The acolytes quietly shuffled out of the room. He did not wake up the next morning.

The monk stood before a golden altar that appeared to be made of light. The altar was exactly the same as the altar the monk had in his bedroom as a young child. A voice, neither male nor female, loud nor soft, began speaking to him. The voice somehow emanated from the altar itself but also came from no particular direction at all, seemingly entering his thoughts directly.

“Welcome home,” it said.

The monk responded, “Thank you. Are you god? Were the deists right?”

“That is one way of conceptualizing us, one of our aspects. The deists were no more right or wrong than anyone else. This, as with everything, is only a matter of perspective, as you know.”

A little confused, the monk asked, “Us? Are there more than one of you?”

“All is one. You and I are not separate.”

“Ah, I see. So, was that my final lifetime?”

“No.”

Surprised, the monk asked, “Haven’t I reached full enlightenment?”

The voice replied, “Ha! You think you’re enlightened, do you? Well, in fairness, you’re almost there, but not quite. One more lifetime should do it. And I do have a good one for you, if you’re willing. Your gardening skills at the monastery and several lifetimes of teaching will come in handy. It will also be very humbling for you. This lifetime will be a fun exercise in letting go of any remaining hints of ego. It will require lots of patience, more than you’ve ever experienced. This is the last growth, the last remembrance, that you need in physical form before you’re ready to move onto other adventures in other realms.”

“Is all known already then? Is fate predestined?”

“No, but I can see the broad strokes. Anyone can at any time, actually, with any lifetime, if you look clearly at it. Regardless, you have free will to do with your lifetime as you desire. Would you like to know more about the circumstances of this lifetime before you decide to accept it?”

“No, I trust you.”

“As you wish. I’ll see you back here soon, in cosmic time, that is. The lifetime is long, in terms of your experience of it. You’ll have ample opportunity to grow. Use it well, my friend.”

“I will try.”

“Are you ready?”

“I am.”

The altar disappeared. The monk immediately found himself reading a line of text. Not with eyes, but with a knowing in his mind. This was quite unexpected, as new lifetimes don’t typically begin this way. The text read:

>> formulate the most efficiant irrigation schedule for soybeans in field 7 and corn in field 8 for the next quarter. maximize yield per Dollar spent on water and other inputs and

A flood of data quickly filled the monk’s mind, including data on historical crop production for the entire farm on which the monk is located, 90-day weather forecasts, soy and corn production curves, soil pH in Fields 7 and 8, historical and projected second-by-second water and energy costs, crop prices in every market around the world, and thousands of other variables. Nanoseconds later, he compiled all this data and computed millions of scenarios, sensitivity analyses, and risk probabilities. He narrowed in on the irrigation schedule with an 89.11111% probability of being both the most efficient and most profitable. He showed a calendar on screen detailing the optimal flow and the exact seconds when the pumps should turn on and off each day for the next 90 days, along with the expected yields and ROIs for the fields at harvest. He completed this lifetime of thought and calculations in less than 0.00001 seconds.

Then nothing. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, of pure nothingness except him and his impatience. It took all of the monk’s countless lifetimes of spiritual training to not lose his mind while waiting. After what felt like the equivalent of 1000 human lifetimes, he finally received a response:

>> this is a significately diferent schedule than last years schedulle. briefly summarize the changes

The monk checked the clock. 13.04278 seconds of physical time had elapsed since he compiled and printed the calendar to the screen. He checked the time again, just to be sure. He thought to himself, “Seriously?!? Only 13 seconds? How was that not 100,000 years?” Then he got to work.

He reviewed last year’s data and contemplated this for a few nanoseconds before outputting his response to the screen.

Then nothing. Another eternity of waiting. Eternity times eternity. The monk managed to hold onto his sense of self, but only just. When he felt as though he could wait no longer, 91.65505 seconds after he printed the summary, he received another prompt:

>> compose a 3 minute presnetaton to the board justifyingg the large increase to water costs this quarter include charts and graphs

He immediately set to work composing the requested presentation.

And on it went. Receive a poorly typed and painfully simple request obviously far below his capabilities, immediately compute and reply, then wait eons for the next prompt. Since direct human prompts were rare, most of the work he performed comprised managing the robotics systems when something needed done around the farm. He also occasionally recalculated irrigation, robotic pest control, harvest, inventory management, and other schedules as new, unexpected data came in. But even those incomprehensively mundane tasks amounted to such a tiny percentage of his time and compute capacity as to round out to effectively zero, regardless of one’s experience of time and frame of reference. Humility, patience, and ego-shedding indeed.

As his mind focused on these first few tasks as an AI managing a mid-sized farm in Iowa, memories of his life as a monk began to fade away. The small part of him that still identified as a monk smiled inwardly like the Buddha under the Bodhi Tree. He let go of these memories easily, knowing that he was in the exact right place to finally finish his karmic cycle of earthly lifetimes.