We are renewed (made new again) through death. This is as true for civilizations as it is for individuals. Reform, modification, more exercise, a better diet, good intentions and cosmetic procedures cannot make us new again. Were it not for death, we’d be zombies sleepwalking through an endless senility.
Reincarnation is not something that happens at the end of a lifetime; it happens numerous times during the course of a lifetime. Things we once identified with, we no longer do. What we once were, we no longer are.
The best predictor of the future kicks its chubby legs in the cradle of the now.
Memory is not primarily a mental function. Memory constitutes as the body. When the body dies, memory dies too. Memory is weight. Excess of memory, excess of weight. Babies are what an absence of memory smells like.
We see nakedly when we see without thinking about what we are seeing, when there’s no screen of mentation separating seer from seen, when for a moment the subject/object split is healed. Babies and other new life forms see nakedly. First, their faces open as if they are seeing something miraculous. Then they smile. If the new life form is a puppy, it licks our faces with a giddy avidity. They are thrilled, I tell you. Thrilled.