But what if life is a vicious circle, what if you are always born again?
I think we can make some safe assumptions for the basis of your question. If we are born again then there probably will be both rhyme and reason to
existence. Even if the process of life then death then life renewed was entirely a random evolution in nature, the rhyme and reason will be
manufactured by conscious intelligence. However, the real question on this topic is, does the same personality survive, or is it some aspect of (for
want of a better word) spirit (I use the term without any religious connotation or linking) that survives?
If, after death, memory survives intact and wholly cohesive, then the personality must equally survive, because memory is where you are, where the
person ultimately resides, regardless of the dual aspect it implies.
Existence, especially our existence, is a profound puzzle. We are self-aware, intelligent entities. We know that each of us followed the same process
of conception through to birth, and growth to adulthood and further maturation psychologically, and entropic ageing in physical body until the
physical body meets with its natural end through atrophy. Mind, it seems, does not undergo atrophy or entropy, and one could suggest that that is the
way spirit is able to circumvent entropic processes through cycles of reincarnation, but this would then be problematic for the original personality
as it would have to seek assimilation with all the succeeding personalities of each incarnation that followed. No matter how many lives one lived, no
life would produce the same personality, the same person.
Then of course, there is the 'power' source problem. We know how the physical body gets its fuel and energy...we eat food, but how would spirit attain
its energy? How would spirit remain energised? The physical body has a natural life span, and regardless of the fuel we constantly feed it, the body
reaches a certain point where its modular system simply falls apart, and there is nothing that can be done about it...we physically die.
Thirty years ago I would often liken the physical body to that of an incubator for the soul (personality), and that when we die, we follow a process
of metamorphosis like the butterfly, and emerge into our true essence fully loaded with intelligence with a limited capacity for environmental
Unfortunately, all these rational imaginings remain nothing more than imaginings. It seems that all we can know is that we are born, we live for a
period of time, and only too self-aware that each of us meet with the same end. There is nothing imaginative about that.
edit on 8/3/16 by
elysiumfire because: (no reason given)