This Isn't My First Life as a Human

Blog Post 19.

Every now and then a thought arrives that refuses to leave. It settles in the background of life, returning occasionally during quiet moments of reflection.

What if this isn't my first life as a human? I hadn’t yet asked but I knew that my daughter was supposed to have had at least one other life before this. It was time to find out.

I asked the aliens and the answer was clear.

Is this my first life as a human? - No.

Oh, okay then.

But hang on, if that’s the case, I would’ve thought I’d be a lot better at it than I seem to be. If I really had done all this before, would I really have fucked up so many times? I’m pretty bad at plenty of things, so… does that really track? I barely passed English at school. English! It’s what I speak!

Shouldn’t I be a lot wiser? Surely! I could certainly have done with a bit more wisdom in this lifetime, thanks very much. Why did none of that seem to penetrate the end-of-life memory-wipe barrier? Why did only the dumb stuff get through?

And why have the memory wipe at all? What's the point unless humanity is intended to remain at a low level of awareness, lost in a state of perpetual amnesia?

If consciousness exists across many lifetimes, why erase the accumulated knowledge? What is gained by repeatedly starting from zero? Who benefits from this?

The question becomes even more interesting when viewed through the lens of modern society. We carry devices that place almost all human knowledge within easy reach, yet many of us spend hours scrolling through distractions that leave little room for reflection.

I don’t think anyone can argue that funny cat videos advance humanity in any way.

Is social media designed to be so pervasive and addictive to keep the population dumb and subdued? Is it intentional social control?

If consciousness exists across many lifetimes, why erase the accumulated knowledge? What is gained by repeatedly starting from zero?

What if forgetting limits us?

Is this a kind of prison? Not one built of concrete and steel, but of ignorance and amnesia. Its walls cannot be seen. Its bars are constructed from forgotten memories. Its shackles are the conviction that we are only what we remember ourselves to be.

Most prisoners know they are confined. A deeper prison may be one in which the inmates never realise they are locked in at all.

Humanity spends much of its existence focused on wealth accumulation, status, distraction, and conflict. We devote enormous energy to immediate concerns while rarely questioning the deeper nature of reality or consciousness itself.

A species unable to remember its origins, remains confined to a narrow understanding of itself. Each generation restarts from square one, rebuilding personal knowledge that may already have been learned countless times before.

Viewed from that perspective, the memory barrier appears less like a gift and more like a constraint.

People don’t know and don’t care. But even if we realise this, can we change it? How do we break out of the prison?