Why did I want to defend these tales of prior lives, anyway? It had less to do with believing I could prove that reincarnation was real and more to do with investigating why it was appealing to believe in it. If we told ourselves stories in order to live, what did we get from stories that allowed us to live again? It was about something more than buffering against the terrifying finality of death. It had to do with recognizing the ways we’re shaped by forces we can’t see or understand.
