When Mark G. Reinhard talks about nearly drowning; not once, but twice; as a child and emerging without a drop of water in his lungs, he doesn’t describe it as a miracle. He describes it as a mystery. “I breathed underwater. Twice. And nothing happened,” he recalls. “That shouldn’t be possible.” Those early brushes with the unexplained didn’t just haunt him — they ignited a lifelong obsession with the hidden architecture of reality.
Today, Reinhard stands at the intersection of science, spirit, and personal revelation. He’s an electrical engineer by training, a licensed acupuncturist by profession, and now, an author with a radically original book titled Life in 24 Dimensions: A Layman’s Theory of Everything. The work fuses physics, philosophy, and personal experience into a model that attempts nothing less than a unification of existence — across both the physical and non-physical realms.
It’s a bold claim, but Reinhard doesn’t posture like a guru or a theorist. He speaks plainly, with a tinkerer’s love for systems and a seeker’s reverence for mystery. Life in 24 Dimensions is his blueprint for how it all fits together.
Reinhard’s path was never linear. With a sharp mind for mechanics, he studied engineering to understand how the world worked. But life — and its inexplicable detours — kept pulling him toward the unseen. He experienced multiple spiritual encounters and what he describes as paranormal moments that could not be squared with materialist explanations.
Eventually, Reinhard left engineering and entered the world of Eastern medicine, becoming an acupuncturist. His approach, though, remained grounded in physics. He experimented with frequency-specific microcurrent therapy and treated patients remotely using principles of resonance and quantum entanglement — long before “energy healing” became mainstream.
Science, it seemed, wasn’t the opposite of spirituality. It was a key to it.
The real turning point came in 2012 when Reinhard suffered a TIA, followed by two strokes. The episodes shook him deeply. “I realized I could die without ever putting down what I knew,” he says. “What I’d seen. What I’d come to understand.”
During recovery, Reinhard began writing. At first, he produced two books on acupuncture, distilling years of research and clinical insights. But his mind was always orbiting a bigger project — the 24 dimensions model he had slowly constructed over years of contemplation, research, and personal experience.
With encouragement from his brother and his partner Christy, Reinhard finally committed to publishing Life in 24 Dimensions — not for fame, but for the sake of clarity and legacy.
Life in 24 Dimensions builds its case methodically, starting with familiar ideas from geometry — the point, line, and plane postulate — and expanding them into a full framework that includes both physical and non-physical dimensions. Nine dimensions define the observable universe. The next three act as “interaction variables,” facilitating the bridge between body and consciousness.
But what makes Reinhard’s model compelling isn’t just the math or metaphysics. It’s the insistence that we are already living in these dimensions. “Your thoughts, your emotions — they’re not imaginary,” he says. “They’re part of the structure of reality. They have dimensions. They interact with physical reality in real, measurable ways.”
This isn’t abstract spiritualism. Reinhard argues that consciousness survives bodily death — supported by research into near-death experiences and his own conversations with deceased relatives. And he’s unafraid to push the boundaries of current science to make his case. “Mainstream science doesn’t explain consciousness because it avoids it,” he says. “But you can’t leave out the part that makes us alive.”
For all its structural elegance, the emotional engine of Life in 24 Dimensions is unconditional love. “Love,” Reinhard writes, “is the only emotion that reveals timelessness. It’s the doorway.”
This isn’t sentiment — it’s a thesis. Unconditional love, Reinhard claims, sits at the core of higher dimensional experience. It dissolves duality, ends inner conflict, and aligns the self with what he calls “the mind of God.” And unlike dogma, it’s universal. “Every religion gets a piece of it,” he explains, “but the totality is bigger than any belief system.”
Love, in Reinhard’s theory, is not just moral. It’s dimensional.
Despite its ambitions, the book never insists on belief. Reinhard makes it clear: you don’t have to accept everything — or anything — he says. But he challenges readers to test their assumptions and examine their own personal truths against the broader lenses of logic, science, and spirituality.
There’s even humor in his humility. “I’m not claiming to have all the answers,” he says. “I’m just trying to ask better questions.”
And those questions linger. What if the unseen is just as structured as the seen? What if consciousness isn’t housed in the brain but tuned into it? What if love is more than a feeling — what if it’s physics?
Reinhard isn’t finished. He’s working on a new acupuncture volume and sketching out the next installments in his dimensional framework. But Life in 24 Dimensions is his flagship offering — and a daring one at that. It joins a short list of independent works attempting to reconcile the rift between science and spirit without falling into pseudoscience or preachy mysticism.
For readers willing to stretch their perspective and their patience; it’s not just a read. It’s an expansion.