Life happens all day long. Some days are peaceful, almost boring. Others are hectic, almost frenetic, and anywhere in between. Then we go to sleep. While we sleep, we put it all away. Then we awaken and start all over again, only it isn't quite from the same place, is it? No, not quite. Then add up all the days and you have a lifetime. How far from where it started depends on all that has happened as it incrementally transformed us. This is ponderable.
It happens. It just happens. It seems like we should be able to manage it, but we can't. It happens, regardless. Some it is shaped by our dreams, some of it is shaped shaped by habits, by impressions, by influences past, by our appetites, some of it is like a game played in competition with another, over whom we have no control. All of it happens, all of it gets processed, reconciled, put into perspective, and put away for reference, or not. The cumulative effect is who we are, what we do, how we respond.
That all of it disappears when the body dies seems like such a waste. On the other hand, if all of what happened has value to a core-being that continues to exist, then it would be of, more or less, permanent value.
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