Intrigued by Reincarnation, Skip Dillard Embraces Buddhism // via @SmokeLong
When you have a next life, there’s no such thing as a one-on-one. The concept of not getting a second chance after failing on the first is so Western, it’s no wonder we’re always at war. Imagine a world where redemption is only a step off the roof away. Tripping in front of a bus would do it, too, and so would two bottles of Tylenol. A hungry bear in the woods. A lucky bolt of lightning. Colon cancer. No matter what you were guilty of, or innocent, you could start over any time you wanted. Sure, a margin of error exists. You could come back as an infectious microbe. A sickly leopard. The maggot born in the trash can behind some Chinese take-out joint. But you might get lucky, too, end up rich, a beautiful actress, married to a handsome athlete, always on the news for her charitable tendencies. You could be a famous doctor. An inventor. The first man to do something no one’s ever done before, like walk on Mars, or travel back in time. You could be the lap dog to that same beautiful actress, traveling in her purse, your picture in a thousand magazines, a kiss on the nose for every flash of the camera. Even better, you could be nobody. You could go about your business, live your life. Minor victories would go unnoticed, as would major defeats. Even if anyone turned around to look, it wouldn’t matter. Either you wouldn’t care, or you’d move on again, the next roll of the dice. If you kept shooting, sooner or later, you’d get better at it, always get something good. Money in the bank.
