Reincarnation Last year I flew from Europe to Australia. It was horrible. I mean the flight, not Australia. Sitting in an airplane for twenty-two hours is not exactly fun. The very worst thing about flying for a long time is the bathrooms.About sixteen hours into the flight my stomach was a mess. Bad movies, bad food, no exercise. Dinner was served at four in the morning with cheap red wine. I know I didnt have to drink the wine. It wasnt just my stomach that was messed up. You should have seen the line for the toilets! And when I got into the bathroom and sat down on the warm toilet seat, a seat made warm by a strangers buttocks, and breathed in the disgusting smell Anyway, during the flight I was sitting next to a man who was wearing a purple robe. Also, he was completely bald and was served special meals, only vegetables, fruit and bread. So, obviously, he was a Buddhist monk. He didnt say much. But I dont suppose a monk has much to talk about. He lives in a monastery, gets up very early every morning, sings, meditates and works in the garden. Its not an exciting life. Not like being an English teacher. Just to make conversation I asked him, whats the point of reincarnation? He took a bite out of his apple and said, reincarnation is an opportunity, to become better, better than you were in the last life, and wiser, wiser than you were in your previous life. I think Im a good person already, I said, I give money to beggars, I give stray cats milk, I always smile at the postman, even when he brings me the electricity bill. Also I do not kill insects. Well, almost never. Sometimes I kill spiders but only the small ones. The monk nodded and asked, Suppose you are in the supermarket and someone pushes a shopping trolley over your foot, how do you react? Is the shopping trolley full or empty? I asked. Full, he said, its definitely full. And am I wearing boots or sandals? I asked. Sandals, he said, you are wearing sandals. Think how much it would hurt if someone pushed a heavy shopping trolley over your toes. He was a very mean monk. I would certainly cry out in pain, I told him. And would you smile at the person with the shopping trolley? he asked. Would I smile at the person who had just broken three of my toes? I said, No, I dont believe I would. Maybe in the next life, he said, you will learn how to smile at the person who breaks your toes. Then he closed his eyes. Do you believe in reincarnation? Do you think youve lived before? Were you once a prince or maybe a princess. Perhaps you were a soldier in the Roman army. Or a pirate on the high seas. Maybe you once shook hands with Napoleon Bonaparte. Or did you once kiss Cleopatra? And if you did how was it?And girls, just think, maybe you once kissed Casanova. Or maybe you did more than just kiss him. It could be, though, that you have lived many, many times before and each time you were a very boring person. A boring caveman, a boring peasant, a boring office worker. An accountant. Suppose you were an astronaut in one life, or a great explorer, or a movie star and then, in the next life, you were an accountant. Wouldnt that be disappointing? Or maybe you were an accountant first. All you did was count money and drink tea. And then in the next life you were a pilot in a jet plane in a war. Wouldnt that be really scary? So maybe its better that we dont remember our past lives. Id like to know though where I lived and when and why. This is what I was thinking about when I noticed the monks big feet and his big toes. He was wearing sandals, of course. He was a monk. He was sitting in a corridor seat and it was time for lunch. He had stretched out his right leg so his big right foot was in the corridor and the air hostess was coming towards us with the food trolley. You can guess what happened next. Destiny, fate, karma. Crunch! The food trolley went straight across his foot. Did he cry out in pain? Oh yes he did. And did he smile at the air hostess? No he didnt. But I did.