Our daughter was watching a nature documentary the other night. Apparently, she watched chimpanzees or baboons mourn the death of a baby in their family. She mentioned it at dinner… and later during the meal, asked:
“What’s the point of life?”
My husband and I looked at each other, and back at her.
“What do you think the point of life is?” I countered.
“I don’t know. I mean, what are we supposed to do?”
My husband kept chewing. I ventured in to uncharted waters.
“What are you good at, and what makes you happy? Maybe that’s what you’re supposed to do.”
“Yeah,” she acknowledged. “I think that when you die, you don’t actually just end. I think you come back, but you don’t know you were already here. Like you’re somebody else, but you’re still you, but you don’t remember that you are you.”
I told her that was what many refer to as reincarnation. Please note, we have never discussed reincarnation with her.
“I just think that makes more sense. Otherwise what would you do when you die?”
My husband at this point added, “Well, there are a lot of ways of thinking about it. A lot of people have different ideas… there’s Heaven. Or just the end. Or you come back.”
But our girl. She has her idea. She’s all set.