Author: Dr. Jay Forrest

I find it interesting that both the Buddha and Plotinus believed in reincarnation. In this respect, Plotinus is simply following his teacher, Plato.

Most people know that the Buddha believed in rebirth, but I’m not sure everyone realizes that Plato also affirmed reincarnation. It seems to be something many modern philosophers, who tend to be biased toward naturalism, regard with embarrassment and avoid discussing.

Pythagoras is traditionally credited, not only with coining the word philosophy, but also with being the primary source of the teaching on the soul’s migration among living beings—an idea echoed in Plato, the Gnostics, Plotinus, Kabbalah, and others.

The problem is that once you remove reincarnation from reality, you are left with a world that appears unjust. Good people go unrewarded, and bad people go unpunished. Such a world calls into question the existence—or at least the goodness—of the Creator. Karma and rebirth restore a sense of cosmic justice.

By cognition, I mean information processing. This is sometimes called the intellect, the mind, or simply thinking.

Consciousness, by contrast, refers to our awareness of ourselves and the world around us. It is that unique sense of being present—the one thing we can know with certainty.

Unfortunately, consciousness and intellect are often confused. They are treated as the same, with little or no distinction made between them. Yet there is a significant difference between awareness and information processing.

This distinction becomes especially important when we consider rebirth. What is reborn in another body is not our intellect, but our consciousness. We carry our awareness and its tendencies from life to life, while leaving behind our intellect—our cognition and our memories.

It is true that some traces from past lives may carry into a new one—not as stored brain-based memories, but as impressions embedded in the flow of consciousness. In rare cases, these may surface as early-life recollections, such as those reported in children. However, as the new brain develops and takes over cognitive functioning, these impressions tend to fade.

The atheist claims there is no Ultimate Reality. But do you know everything? If not, what you don’t know could be Ultimate Reality. So you cannot definitively deny it; at most, you can say you don’t know whether an Ultimate Reality exists.

A person with an experience is never at the mercy of a person with an argument.
Direct experience outranks discursive argument. I have encountered Ultimate Reality; its existence does not depend on belief. Intuitively, you recognize this: nothing within the universe is eternal, immutable, infinite, perfect, or absolute—yet we possess these ideas, which cannot arise from the finite alone and therefore point beyond it to Ultimate Reality.

Laying aside all the problems with the word “God,” and defining Ultimate Reality as the eternal, immutable, infinite, perfect, and absolute, consider this: there are thirty‑eight distinct arguments for God’s existence, grouped as follows—six cosmological, three ontological, five teleological, two moral, one from consciousness, three epistemological, five experiential, four aesthetic and existential, three scientific and cosmic, three pragmatic and decision‑based, four self‑referential, and two additional variants. The sheer number and variety of these arguments provide cumulative evidence for Ultimate Reality that overcomes the flaws in any one alone.

Add up the first‑hand experiences of people like me with the numerous arguments, and the evidence is clear: there is enough evidence for Ultimate Reality for those who want the truth, but there will never be enough evidence for those whose psychological resistance—fueled by religious abuse, misuse, and distortion of the God concept—makes acceptance extraordinarily difficult, unless they let go of the resistance. A person convinced against their will is of the same opinion still.

A mystic is a person who seeks firsthand experience of Ultimate Reality. Evelyn Underhill clarifies, “Mysticism is the art of union with Reality. The mystic is a person who has attained that union in greater or less degree; or who aims at and believes in such attainment.”

Different traditions give different names to this Reality: for Buddhists, it is Nirvana; for Christians, God; for Muslims, Allah; for Taoists, the Tao; for Vedantists, Brahman; for many Native traditions, the Great Spirit.

Historically, most mystics have flourished within the religions into which they were born, since all major religions contain a mystical core. At the same time, the mystic’s direct experience of Ultimate Reality often pushes boundaries, and they are sometimes viewed with suspicion.

Most believers simply accept the doctrines of their religion. They are taught what to believe, what rituals to perform, and how to act—and this is sufficient for them. They believe, but they do not know.

For the mystic, however, there comes a point when the transcendent breaks through. They encounter something higher, deeper, and profoundly compelling. Once they have tasted this, the things of the world begin to lose their hold. In Buddhist terms, the mystic becomes disenchanted with the world—the spell has been broken. The illusion is revealed, and the delusion fades.

The Declaration of Independence begins: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

This is one of the greatest sentences ever written. Unfortunately, we are still trying to live it out. Human beings have a strong tendency toward tribalism and division rather than unity and equality.

The rich have always oppressed the poor. They have long sought to control and limit the power of others. Across history, wealth has often shaped politics and concentrated influence in very few hands.

At times, that power has been checked. At other times, it has not. Today, money still exerts enormous influence over elections and public life, and the struggle over equality remains unresolved.

The rich cannot be good, and the good cannot be rich. Class conflict has existed since the beginning of civilization. The question is not whether power will be abused, but whether it will be restrained.

One of modern society’s central problems is that unhealthy food is designed to taste great—and what pleases the palate often harms the body. Flavor is engineered to override restraint, drawing us toward what is convenient, addictive, and nutritionally empty. What appears as pleasure is often a subtle form of harm, disguised in sweetness, salt, and excess.

Far too many people live to eat rather than eat to live. They become slaves to the food they consume—and that food is often processed, flavored garbage. It is neither nourishing, healthy, nor wise to eat it.

The truth is the only way to keep your health is to eat what you don’t want, drink what you don’t like, and do what you’d rather not. In modern society, this is no longer optional; it has become the rule.

But we are creatures of comfort, seekers of pleasure, and avoiders of pain. We would rather destroy our health than endure eating or drinking something that does not taste good. Taste becomes our master, the belly our god, and destruction our reward.