Author: Dr. Jay Forrest

Hedonism is the belief and lifestyle that treats pleasure as the highest good and ultimate aim of life. Its guiding principle is simple: if it feels good, do it.

When someone is asked why they did something and answers, “because I liked it,” they reveal a hedonistic framework. The justification rests entirely on personal preference and immediate satisfaction.

In contrast, a life oriented toward what is right, true, and genuinely beneficial looks beyond pleasure. It weighs actions against ethical standards and long-term consequences, rather than momentary desire.

Much of Western civilization appears captive to hedonism. We eat what we like, pursue what we enjoy, and fill our time with entertainment—video games, television, gambling, drinking—because of the pleasure they provide. Preference becomes the primary guide.

But when pleasure alone determines action, ethical reasoning is sidelined. The result is not just indulgence, but a moral framework in which desire replaces judgment.

The four stages of liberation in Buddhism are stream-enterer (Sotāpanna), once-returner (Sakadāgāmi), non-returner (Anāgāmi), and arahant, the fully liberated one. However, these are better understood as attainments rather than stages. There is no gradual process here—only arrival.

In contrast, the four stages of the mystical path in Western mysticism are awakening, purification, contemplation, and union. These describe genuine stages—ongoing processes—without clearly defined points of arrival.

What becomes interesting is when the two are placed side by side.

Stage one is awakening, culminating in stream-entry. The fetters removed are identity view, doubt, and clinging to rites and rituals.

Stage two is purgation, culminating in the once-returner. Sensual desire and ill-will are drastically reduced.

Stage three is illumination, culminating in the non-returner. Sensual desire and ill-will are fully destroyed.

Stage four is union, culminating in arahantship. All ten fetters are destroyed, and one is fully liberated, having attained nirvana. This is complete union with Ultimate Reality.

Evolution reveals a directional pattern in the cosmos: from simple matter to complex life, and finally to self-reflective human consciousness. This trajectory suggests a natural design that is not random but purposeful, aiming toward higher integration and awareness.

Since nature truly exhibits purpose, then that purpose cannot be ultimately futile. Genuine aim implies that the intended outcome matters and is preserved in some meaningful way, rather than collapsing into nothingness.

Human consciousness stands as the culmination of this process. It is the point at which the cosmos becomes aware of itself. If consciousness were to vanish forever, its emergence would be rendered meaningless, betraying the very purpose it was meant to fulfill.

Therefore, consciousness cannot simply die without remainder. Its significance requires that it persist beyond biological death in some form, whether as personal continuity, integration into a larger mind, or another mode of enduring awareness.

From this perspective, death is not the last word. The meaningfulness of consciousness, grounded in the purposeful direction of evolution, implies that death does not annihilate what is most essential about us.

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.