Nine Lives
04.18.13
The problem with reincarnation is that the process gets utterly tedious after the first couple of times. I am now about to enter my ninth lifetime and am seriously considering asking the Powers That Be to remove me from the roster of Conscious Reincarnation. I have come to envy those that flit from one existence to the next, unaware of their previous lives except maybe at some primal level.
Take childhood, for example. Most of us remember ours fondly, no doubt – our first one, that is. Kicking a ball about in the park with friends, the excitement when the ice cream van comes around, broadcasting its merry tune. Great, yeah? Well, it isn’t so bad the second time round either. Until you remember all too clearly, from Life Number One’s adulthood stage, what it was like to be able to buy an ice cream without having to beg a self-righteous parent for permission. Are you with me so far? Well then – now imagine going through the teenage years again. Yes, that’s right – all the aggro with none of the memorable firsts being really firsts. If you remember First Kiss Number One, it rather takes something away from First Kiss Number Two. By the time you get to First Kiss Number Four, you’re pretty much just going through the motions.
I’ll have to admit, it hasn’t all been bad. Just as I jumped into a new life dreading having to put up with Childhood Number Five, I found that I had six legs and mandibles. Mandibles! Now that was something. Being a ground beetle has been one of the highlights of Conscious Reincarnation, even though (or perhaps because) it didn’t last very long, and despite the larval and pupal stages being somewhat uneventful.
My next sojourn into the world of the living was as a chameleon. That one ranked right up there with the beetle. I cannot begin to describe how satisfying it is to be able to change colours. A little too satisfying perhaps – my enthusiasm cost me my life as I failed to disguise myself from the first predator that came along. A chameleon unaware of the novelty of being able to change colour would have relied on instinct and taken on the colour of its surroundings, thereby protecting itself from predators and maybe reaching a ripe old age. I felt I had to point out to the Powers That Be this fallacy that comes of allowing Conscious Reincarnation from human to non-human species. They weren’t best pleased. My next life found me as a parrot with its wings clipped, never allowed out of its cage. A miserable existence, I expect you’ll agree, so I made sure to verbally abuse my captors day and night until they wrung my neck.
My eighth life was, to all intents and purposes, a repeat of lives One to Four. Human. Normal. Not dull, necessarily, but so long and arduous compared to lives with mandibles, changing colours and four letter squawks. I now lie in wait for the ninth life. I am trying to decide, before it is too late, whether to use the escape phrase which would allow me to move back into the standard, unconscious reincarnation stream. It is a tough call though – one cannot move back into Conscious Reincarnation if one asks to leave it, so my decision would be final. Perhaps I’ll just go for one more. Yes – one more life, and then I’ll call it quits. I have one more in me, but that is all. Anything above that, human or non-human, would drive me mad.
I am feeling the familiar tug now. I will find myself in a new body any minute now…
Shit. I’m a cat.
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Tags: chameleon, Flash Fiction, fridayflash, ground beetle, Humour, Reincarnation, Writing
Ha! This probably explains why cats are so moody all the time.
Good story, M.
So THAT explains Grumpy Cat!
Loved how this flirted with some serious existential issues and ended with a giggle.
I loved the suicidal parrot death by owner incarnation best. The ninth life has to be a cat right? The beetle incarnation has forever been ruined by Franz Kafka, so kudos to your character for finding the positive in it
I must admit, I have the opposite view to your character, what’s the point of (human only) reincarnation if each time you’re born as a baby with a tabula rasa, no memories – there’s no link to your previous consciousness and none of the memories, so what’s the benefit – it’s just like a wholly new human being being born not a reincarnated one.
marc nash
Good story, how frustrating it would be to live over and over again with all those previous memories. Nothing would be fresh or hold any real wonder.
And what is wrong with cats?! I like the humour and can visual the movements between lives and key scenes. I am reminded of Walter Moers and can imagine cartoons going well with those words.
That explains so much! 🙂
Any time after a reincarnation when you feel mandibles, you ought to evaluate how you’ve been living. Mythological means or otherwise, you’ve probably been doing something wrong.
This reminded me so much of that character from Hitchhiker’s Guide- the one who came back as a pointsetta plant and then an old man at the sports event and then that bat mash up trying to punich Arthur for cutting all of his lives short. Their frustration with the infallible was terribly funny.
I think a cat would realise it’s totally better being a cat than a human or a chameleon!
I love the “ho-hum” feel of this Maria, and that it isn’t your run-of-the-mill “maybe I’ll get it right this time” reincarnation story.
The parrot is my favorite too.
Loved your original take on reincarnation – think this shows that you’re clearly a dog person!
Funny! I was convinced that my old cat was the reincarnation of a mechanical engineer. She was far more interested in figuring out how stuff worked, rather than just playing with them.
Am I the only person or there who can’t remember their first kiss?
He he. I’m looking at my cat differently now. And, as Tony stated, that would explain a lot about the attitude. 🙂