“In my next life, I’m going to have straight hair. And then I’m going to get bangs.”
This was the high-brow conversation I was having with my carpool on the way to work yesterday morning. My carpool is a man. He also happens to be my husband.
During this part of our day, he usually zones out. I babble – incessantly – and having been with me for over a decade, he’s long moved past the phase of pretending to listen to show he cares. I can’t really blame him. Bangs in my next life? Not likely to go on either of our lists of life’s top-ten conversations.
Still, as embarrassingly shallow as the morning’s topic was, it got me thinking late last night. Not about what I could acquire in my next life, but what I would keep from this one.
If you could only take one trait with you into your next life, what do you choose?
Do you take something you’re already good at? Do you take something you’d need another lifetime to perfect?
Do you take something from your looks or a part of your personality? You might love the shape of your eyes now, but those eyes on the wrong face could be off-putting. Likewise, nymphomania would be all wrong for your next life if you end up being a nun.
You’d have to pick something that would work regardless of what you turn out to be.
I am a fighter for the underdog. A lover of the unlovables. If you are tired and weak, crippled and frayed, gather around because I will champion for you.
I don’t know how to be any other way.