Reincarnation 2

 

Reincarnation 2

This is another reworked treatise on reincarnation – a post reborn, you might say.

Strictly speaking, reincarnation is rebirth as a different life form, but I’ve often thought I might be reincarnated as something lowly, like a doormat, which, though inanimate, sees many events throughout its existence. On many occasions, I have felt like a doormat, so perhaps that was the Great Universe preparing me for my next iteration.

I was thinking about it more deeply in the wee small hours of the morning, which is when I do the majority of my philosophical contemplation. Obviously, my life is so full that I must think when I should be sleeping.

Having decided that my next life would see me as a doormat, I began thinking about door mats in general. Of course, one has little choice in the form of one’s reincarnation, but should I be allowed to choose, what would be my decision? There are many different types of doormat, the simplest distinction being indoor and outdoor mats. Which would be better? There are pros and cons for each.

Outdoor mats are hardy creatures, exposed to the elements, surrounded by the sights and sounds of Nature, rough, tough, no-nonsense characters. They are not philosophers but practical, straight-talking individuals. I do not mean to imply that philosophers are impractical wafflers, though some may be, simply that outdoor mats lack imagination and see things in black and white. They do not sit on the fence, prevaricating. They are loyal and hard-working and ask and expect little in return other than a good beating now and again, not because they are masochistic, but because they wish to be relieved of the detritus deposited on them – extraneous samples of Nature that have escaped from birds, trees, flowers, people’s footwear.  

Exterior mats may be composed of rubber, which is hard-wearing, but neither absorbent nor particularly attractive. Metal mats are not quite pukka; they’re useful for scraping mud from boots but in the hierarchy of the external mat community, they are the untouchables. They look as if they have escaped from a giant’s grill pan. Coir matting looks smart and is the only natural fibre that is resistant to damage from salt water, which makes sense, considering its provenance.

Yes, a doormat’s life could be quite interesting, even if being ground under the heel is not a pleasant prospect.

Internal door mats are quite distinct from their lowly outdoor relatives. They live in protected environments and are usually constructed of softer, more colourful materials. Sometimes, they have messages printed on them, things like PLEASE WIPE YOUR PAWS (can dogs read?) or THE BIG HOUSE (is that a boast or ironic?)

HELLO on the mat saves the people of the house greeting their guests; LOSE THE SHOES, and GO AWAY are downright rude. Some mats are plain, while others have illustrations of dogs, or cats or cartoon characters. I would prefer not to have words on me, but I wouldn’t have an option.

On balance, I’d rather be an indoor mat than an external one. I wouldn’t choose to be a shop door mat or one that fits in the car well. A bath mat’s life would be cold and damp. A bedside mat would be agreeable, welcoming warm feet from a comfortable bed. My favourite situation would be just inside the front door of a really tidy house with no children or pets, welcoming considerate visitors who would remove their shoes on entering – nothing like my house, then!