Here’s a joke that I’ve heard once that stuck with me.

The Husband Super Store

Recently a "Husband Super Store" opened where women could go to choose a husband from among many men.

It was laid out in five floors, with men increasing in positive attributes on each floor. The only rule was that once you opened a door to a new floor, you either had to choose a man from that floor, or ascend to the next floor. You could not go back down a floor, except to leave the store, never to return.

A couple of girlfriends went to the store to find a husband each.

On the first floor, they came upon a door which had a sign reading, "These men have jobs and love kids."

The women read the sign saying, "Well that’s better than not having a job and not loving kids, but I wonder what’s further up." So up they went.

Upon reaching the second floor, they came upon a sign which read, "These men have high paying jobs, love kids, and are extremely good looking."

"Hmmm," said the ladies, "But, I wonder what’s further up." So up they went.

On the third floor, the sign read, "These men have high paying jobs, are extremely good looking, love kids and help with the housework."

"Wow," said the women, "Very tempting." But there were still more floors, so up they went.

On the fourth floor, the door had a sign saying, "These men have high paying jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking, help with the housework and have a strong romantic streak."

"Oh, mercy me," they cried, "Just think what must be awaiting us further on!" So up to the fifth floor they went.

Upon arriving on the final floor, they read the sign on the door. It said, "This floor is empty and exists only to prove that women are impossible to please."

It’s a good joke, right? Sure, it pokes fun at women, but it’s also true. In fact, let’s take it one step further and say that not just women, but humans in general, are more or less in a state of perpetual dissatisfaction. Am I wrong? I mean, of course I’m grateful for what I have, but there’s always something else that’s missing from my life. (Which, at the moment, would be a kjæreste. But that hasn’t really changed in recent times, haha.)

And there’s nothing terrible about that. After all, having goals, aims, and desires is as natural as living life itself. Our existence would be in the doldrums otherwise.

Anyway, I was talking to Francesco in the car on our way back from our hytte today, and he introduced and explained to me a little bit of Plato’s arguments for the existence and immortality of the soul, which was grappling and mindfucking. All the while I was listening to him, I was secretly rooting for the existence of an argument which proves the immortality of the soul, or at least one that proves it keeps on living even after our physical bodies perish.

I don’t believe so much in God or any organized religion, although I do admit to praying to the bodhisattva statues in our living room whenever I was truly stressed or worried. But one thing that I’ve always believed in, oddly, is reincarnation. And I can’t really explain to you why I do other than the reason being out of pure blind faith. Because deep down, I believe that life is too miraculous, too boundless to be lived just once, and that surely we are offered more than only one lifetime to enjoy all its grandeur. Surely these can’t be the only eyes that this soul has seen through, felt alive through. Surely we have to live enough to experience everything from every angle, even if we don’t remember what we have lived before! So of course I was hoping that Francesco’s lecture would somehow confirm my ideas.

Well, they didn’t. But it did make me wonder why I was so set on living other lives that I don’t/am not going to remember. Forget about money, forget about love, forget about the number of Facebook friends: Is one lifetime not enough? No, it sure doesn’t seem like it.

I wonder what my grandpa would say if I asked him if one lifetime was enough. Does your soul get weary and tired as you get older? Or do you just stop asking these foolish questions?