A frivolous man's attempt to be something he is not.




Life Between Lives

Before I turned two, I had vivid memories of the place I’d hung out before I was born. Not the blissful confines of my mother’s womb. Even before that. I could remember the time just before I decided to reincarnate into this body.

This recollection came about in the middle of a re-birthing session when I was thirty-eight. Or was it during my Reincarnation Therapy? Then again, maybe it happened during a trance dance or a round of self-hypnosis…


Here’s the story.
I was a thought without form, floating in a space of pure consciousness. Although I was vaguely aware of space and time, these concepts had no hold over me. Guilt free, I hovered in the ever-present ‘now moment’ without concern for what might happen further down the line. I was at home in a space of pure joy and total contentment, unaware of any feeling of threat or constraint. My consciousness resided in a state of supreme, cosmic bliss where there was nothing to do and no one in particular to become.

Then I got bored. (Perpetual peace and heavenly rapture are not all they’re cracked up to be, else why did I suddenly feel like biting rocks?) I was itching for something new, something different and I felt a little action would placate my restlessness . So, I took a deep breath and decided to return to the earth plane for another lifetime of shopping and keeping up with the next door neighbors.

St. Peter screamed, “No!” and a band of angels grabbed onto to the hem of my heavenly breeches. But my mind was made up, bursting with enthusiasm to plunge back into the honey-pot of sensual being. I was confident this time would be different and I wouldn’t get lost in the fantasy-land of the illusion like in so many other lifetimes. This time I’d remember I was spirit having a physical experience, and not the other way around.

In my life between lives, I had access to all those memories of previous lifetimes I’d spent in poverty, as well as incarnations where I’d amassed great wealth and influence. None of those escapades had led to anything but isolation and loneliness, so I vowed this time I would set my sights on more spiritual enterprises.

So I chose a comfortable, middle-class family living in the land of endless possibilities. I decided to come in just after the last World War when the economy was booming and there was a TV in every home.

As the right moment neared, just as the appropriate ascendant came in conjunction with the third triad, and all the “good” planets like Jupiter and Venus were packed into the right houses, I took the plunge.

Alas. Somewhere between there and here, I forgot to position Uranus in the right house. Piss! Too late. I was already in the womb.

 Nine months later I fought my way through the birth canal and emerged, looking all the worse for wear, into my present incarnation.

I looked down at my red, blotchy skin and spotted a penis. My penis. I let out a sigh of relief. Thank God that was intact! I had stipulated no skirts or brassieres this time around. I wasn’t into experiencing a lifetime of oppression. But the sigh of relief became a scream of pain when the man holding me up by the ankle slapped my ass. The cold, garish surroundings didn’t help matters, that were pretty extreme. Nothing was as I suspected.

The penis part was okay, but I wasn’t too thrilled about the ‘man’ part. The brute doctor who still had me by the leg, had me wondering if I wanted to take on the masculine gender role.
 So I asked myself, “What has a penis but is not legitimately a man?”

A hermaphrodite.

Wait! That was definitely NOT an option! There’s no way I want to go through an entire incarnation with small tits and a half-inch dick.

So, what were the other alternatives? The only thing that came to mind was a homosexual.
Which wasn’t a bad choice when I thought about it. As a homosexual, I could dabble in the fine arts, and appreciate classical music, and have plenty of time to contemplate the heavens. (And I might be able to fix the ‘Uranus’ mishap I mentioned earlier.) I certainly hadn’t the time idle mind wandering in my last lifetimes, when I was straight. I was too busy tending the hearth or protecting the homestead. As a homosexual, I would have the time to study the healing crafts, introduce my soul to culture and finesse, and have the capacity to ask loud and often, “Who am I?” or “What is the meaning of life?” or “Where the Hell am I and how in the fuck do I get outta here?”

So, it was decided. I'd be gay. Let the programming begin.


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