April 2018

Monday, April 23, 2012


A psychic told my friend Susan that her past life was in 19th century England. Susan said that's probably why she likes Jane Austen and Thomas Hardy so much. She also likes bridges.

I'm not sure about my lives before I landed on the 13th floor of Atlanta's Grady hospital, but I'm having several lives in this one life, and that's pretty cool.

Of course, reincarnation requires a death before a rebirth, and the dying part isn't so fun, but the dying part of this reincarnation has not been as hard as other deaths.

First, my body started failing. I needed a lot of rest.

I've submitted my application for full-time disability, a kind of death certificate. I'm submitting my application for medical leave, though I know that it's unlikely I'll return. I've given away almost all of my books, from home and from school. You can't take it with you, I hear. That's not like giving away my gowns. That's like giving away my food.

Moving from adolescence to adulthood wasn't reincarnation. It was metamorphosis. I'm not sure what the difference is, but it's different. Maybe metamorphosis is changing shape, but not changing being. It's shape-shifting without dying. There is a kind of dying in this.

In this reincarnation, I'm moving in my job from being an educator to being a therapist.
I've told my colleagues and friends. Lots of people say they'll miss me. Many wish me the best. That seems like a good send-off.

I've made plans for a new life. I'll start school in the University of Washington's Master of Social Work program next year. The American Association of University Women will pay my expenses. I'll be a babe again.

In more traditional reincarnations, I'm not sure that a person (or a rock) gets to choose the next form, so I am lucky. I also get to remember most of my previous life without consulting a psychic. And I don't have to read Thomas Hardy or Jane Austen again.


Life, as the t-shirt says, is good.

1 comment:

  1. I am not ready to let go of that old life. Im glad you can, and can move on. I feel so stuck.

    I am quite shocked about you giving your books away! Even if I cannot read them now, I LOVE having books around. I would love to curl up in a vat of books, swim through a sea of books, touching the spines, feeling the shape, the weight, the potential. I love used books, the smell, the history, the feel of pages in my hands. I couldnt give away my books even if I didnt have eyes to see them or hands to hold them.

    I get this from my dad, I know. The first time we went to the Friends of the Library book sale at Magnasun, dad and I got 223 books between the two of us. It felt like a feast. Gluttons for books.

    My mother in law gave us a Nook for Christmas, and a gift card to buy books. I felt so torn - the books she wanted us to buy were only $3 more for the boxed hardback set! But I realized that wasnt the point of the gift. But it really hurt, buying my first eBook. Like ripping off a bandaid.


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