(© HKU Press, 1965)Surely to-day, and increasingly, there is an exaggerated tendency to overestimate the importance of the fact of living - of our apparent existence as individual phenomena? It is almost a dictum to say that we 'have only one life', and 'must make the most of it' - understood.
Whatever the origin of this, it seems to be great nonsense, and thoroughly demoralising. In the first place is there any evidence, let alone likelihood, that it is a fact? Is it not more probable that 'we' have far too many? That, certainly, is the view of the oriental majority of the human race.
And even if that were definitely not so, what is this 'living' of a 'life', subject to conceptual 'time', and who or what 'lives' it? The notion of the 'sacredness of life' - human only of course! - is somewhat unevenly distributed over the surface of the Earth.
Dreams and poppycock! Let us find out what in fact we are - and then the importance and apparent duration of this phenomenal experience will seem to matter very little indeed!
'A long life, and a merry one!' By all means, and why not? But does it matter? Do we bother about the longevity of - say - fish?
Note: 'Life' is only manifestation expressed in a space-time context, entirely hypothetical; there is in fact no 'thing' whatever to begin or to end, to be 'born' or to 'die', and our experience is a psychic phenomenon.
