If Reincarnation is Real

Suppose, for a minute, that reincarnation is real. That we, at least the part of ourselves that we consider to be "we", have the possibility of being reborn as any creature currently present on Earth. Forget about scientific definitions of "ourselves". In fact, forget about the word "we", or "ourselves", or any related pronoun. Really - please forget about them. Because I'm neither qualified nor bored enough to provide any satisfactory definition of those ideas. And metaphysics sucks, as I'm pretty sure the Buddha once said.

Just consider the concept. You could be existing as an alligator, or a panda, or some type of bacteria. Anything that is currently living on the planet, with apologies to fans of the Yangtze river dolphin and golden toad.*

*I learned about these two animals in my Korean kindergarten class. Enlightening young people has never been so depressing.


Of course, if you were currently an alligator or panda, chances are slim you would be reading this essay (I doubt that scientists would waste valuable research dollars on a bacterium). Unless you were involved in some especially sadistic zoologic study, there is absolutely zero chance you would be reading at all. If you, as a semi-literate human, are reading these words right now, then you made a conscious decision (to be confused and possibly bored).

So...what's so great about being a homo sapien, then? How does the capability of conscious thought give humans any kind of conceivable advantage over less-observant species like the common ground squirrel? With the proper amounts of due respect to the order of rodentia, let me try to make a brief argument.

I will, for the purposes of this argument, use myself as an example. Not only does this eliminate any need for tedious interviewing or research, but it also allows me to easily twist the facts as needed in order to illustrate my point. Specific thoughts may or may not have actually passed through my consciousness, but I promise that I will limit my embellishments strictly to those necessary and/or entertaining.

To begin - I make lots of terrible, terrible choices. Some of these have to do with money, and the loss of it. As of yet I have not purchased lucrative bridge-property or cubic zirconia mines, but we shouldn't rule out the possibility. In my defense, these terrible choices do not seem terrible at the moment they are being made. Only the slow lapse of time permits me to see the true shitiness of my decision-making ability in terms of fiscal responsibility.

I don't make these decisions because I get some intrinsic pleasure from actions that devastate my bank account. Most of them are actually pretty defensible at the time they are made. Of course I will need five pairs of stylish trousers to impress my school's CCTV-watching parents. Fashion is God in Korea, and you gotta spend money to (continue) to make money. I must offer to buy drinks for that group of attractive girls in order to prove that chivalry is not, in fact, dead. Let's go out for lunch today because the fried squid-and-kimchi odor billowing from the kitchen is making me nauseous. I NEED that enormous stuffed radish. Why? Shut up - that's why.

Other lousy decisions concern personal relationships. During my 18-month stay abroad, I have established an impeccable track record as a shitty returner-of-emails. Periodic episodes of inexplicable moodiness and extended periods of unilateral silence have served as a reminder that it is impossible to outrun your personal demons. I like to think that the damages haven't been too severe, but who knows? Perhaps I've alienated the potential best man at my hypothetical wedding, or thoroughly pissed off a girl who has a friend who's dating a guy that works for Frommer's. My DeLorean's flux capacitor is still fucked up, and there's no real way of knowing.*

*Even apes would agree that Back to the Future is a kick-ass movie.


But I can learn from these mistakes. All of us can learn from our mistakes. In fact, I'd argue that all of us do learn from our mistakes, and the mark of an intelligent person is this: they effectively learn lessons from far fewer fuck-ups.

Every person who has temporarily blacked out at a shopping mall knows the gut-punch feeling of that enormous credit card bill. Every binge drinker knows how unbearably awful it is to wake up with a raging hangover. Every compulsive man/womanizer has woken up next to a terrible mistake. Every drug dealer has emerged from a hash-induced stupor to realize that the cops are knocking at the door.

So what separates us from the "lower animals"? We have the potential to learn from our mistakes in a far shorter span of time, and to adjust our actions accordingly. We can recognize what makes us feel bad, and what makes us feel fuckin' terrific. We can understand that practicing yoga for an hour after work produces good feelings, and that two pizzas + a bottle of Scotch will probably make us sick as shit. If we pay attention we notice that snarky comments about our co-workers cause lingering feelings of paranoia and resentment, and that these feelings suck. We understand that harboring resentment toward our families brings nothing but suffering. If we are extremely lucky, or observant, we can learn these lessons without having to experience the full dose of pain that accompanies them.

Animals, as is my understanding, do not possess this luxury. Some bears learn to avoid stepping in traps, perhaps by viewing unluckier bears. Some fish never encounter a jiggling nightcrawler and are thus spared the indignity of a two-inch hook through the cheek. But most non-sentient creatures cannot make conscious choices to avoid suffering. They are slaves to their biological imperatives, and cannot train their minds to rein in their most ruinous impulses. If the lights sparkle brightly enough they will come.

We, humans, have a choice. We can chase dragons, or we can trudge after true happiness. We can indulge every conceivable passion, hoping that the next pleasure will finally fill that obnoxious emptiness. We can edit ourselves to fit some definition of "respectable", in hopes that the admiration of our peers will one day prove filling.  We can ignore the consequences of self-destructive behavior, secure in the delusion that we will be the first people to finally cheat death and utter loss.

That mindset seems quite stupid to me. And I failed university math three times.

I think it is much better to recognize our mistakes, and to learn from them. To see the many ways in which we fuck up, without passing judgment on ourselves as failures or quitters. To recognize how these lousy decisions make us feel, and to appreciate the peace of mind that comes with pursuing worthwhile goals. To understand that killing time does nothing but kill time, and that time is precious. Who knows when we'll have this opportunity again? Angels don't have blogs.