A number of years ago, I decided that I would definitely not choose to be a human the next time around if reincarnation is what's ahead for us. It's just too damn difficult. We're too often powerless to change what's going on in our lives and too often vulnerable to the pains that life inflicts on us. That which doesn't kill us may (sometimes) make us stronger, but it can also eat away at our guts. Maybe we ultimately end up strengthened and blessed in some unanticipated way. Maybe the pain of a divorce, for example, clears the path for the unexpected joy of finally meeting one's true soulmate. Maybe a struggle against unwelcome tides strengthens us to move forward in swampy waters. Even with these sanguine results, many of us would choose to avoid life's hard lessons and make our homes in calmer waters. I think of a recent disruption in a relationship that was important to me. I would easily give up whatever strength I developed for the chance to excise that discord from my life. Perhaps that wound is still too raw for me to think otherwise.
I find myself thinking about this in response to an e-mail from a friend. She was discussing a difficult time when her world seemed to be falling apart. In describing the lack of empathy that she felt from someone close to her she said, "That whole time created some very deep and lasting wounds that have yet to completely heal." In a sense, her words normalized the existence of such wounds for me. I had been feeling that my continued sadness, anger, and detachment towards someone who hurt me was an aberration. We all, or perhaps just many of us, are the walking wounded. If we've risked our hearts in love, if we've wanted relationships that were denied to us, if we needed nurturing that wasn't available to us, we've been wounded. That we (eventually) pick ourselves up and march onward, is a testament to our survival, perhaps better for the experience, but also perhaps worse. At this point, I would slice from my life my most recent hurtful experience, but I'm ambivalent about some other deep wounds. I am largely the product of my experiences and, given a choice, I'd choose to live the rest of my life as the Me that I've become.
On the other hand, if reincarnation is our post-death experience, I would choose to become a mussel on a pier. Or perhaps coral. The environment around me would feed me or not; I'd be relatively passive in the experience. Or maybe not; I don't really know how these beings experience their own lives. My point is that I'd want to take a break from the challenge of being human. After I had a decent enough recovery, I might opt again for the challenge of Homo Sapienness with a caveat: The next time around I want to be an insanely beautiful woman whose beauty is matched by fine character, a sharp mind, and a joyful personality. I'll throw in extravagant wealth while I'm at it.
I find myself thinking about this in response to an e-mail from a friend. She was discussing a difficult time when her world seemed to be falling apart. In describing the lack of empathy that she felt from someone close to her she said, "That whole time created some very deep and lasting wounds that have yet to completely heal." In a sense, her words normalized the existence of such wounds for me. I had been feeling that my continued sadness, anger, and detachment towards someone who hurt me was an aberration. We all, or perhaps just many of us, are the walking wounded. If we've risked our hearts in love, if we've wanted relationships that were denied to us, if we needed nurturing that wasn't available to us, we've been wounded. That we (eventually) pick ourselves up and march onward, is a testament to our survival, perhaps better for the experience, but also perhaps worse. At this point, I would slice from my life my most recent hurtful experience, but I'm ambivalent about some other deep wounds. I am largely the product of my experiences and, given a choice, I'd choose to live the rest of my life as the Me that I've become.
On the other hand, if reincarnation is our post-death experience, I would choose to become a mussel on a pier. Or perhaps coral. The environment around me would feed me or not; I'd be relatively passive in the experience. Or maybe not; I don't really know how these beings experience their own lives. My point is that I'd want to take a break from the challenge of being human. After I had a decent enough recovery, I might opt again for the challenge of Homo Sapienness with a caveat: The next time around I want to be an insanely beautiful woman whose beauty is matched by fine character, a sharp mind, and a joyful personality. I'll throw in extravagant wealth while I'm at it.
