Of course, reincarnation is an old concept, existing in many cultures, from Alaskan Eskimo spirituality to the Hindi religion in India. The idea of returning over and over to earth in different forms, as reward or punishment, has a certain appeal. It certainly is a strong deterrent from knocking over banks or having sex with octopi. When I die, I wouldn't want to return to this planet as a louse on a kindergartner's head. On the other hand, if I care for the homeless and donate a kidney to somebody, when I come back, I could be a well-hung movie star.
If reincarnation is an actual thing, I'm not sure if my current position as a contingent professor at the university is a reward or punishment. Teaching first-year composition for three-and-a-half hours on a Tuesday night would certainly qualify as one of the circles of Dante's Inferno, if you will allow me to mix religious ideologies. So, perhaps I wasn't that great of a person in my last life. Maybe I threw an old lady off a lifeboat on the Titanic or was a member of the Trump family tree.
I have friends who believe in reincarnation. One of my best friends is sure that, in a past life, she lived in China and had bound feet. She attributes this feeling to the fact that she loves Amy Tan books. I'm not sure if I would consider that as proof of past lives. If I were to follow that reasoning, then I was probably a Southern woman with lupus in a past life because of my love of Flannery O'Connor.
Anyway, I have to teach my composition class tonight.
If Saint Marty does well, perhaps he will return as a nuclear physicist billionaire body builder.
I have a fear of past lives . . . |
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