Again

The lights are already hurting my eyes.

A man dressed in a blue uniform is doing his rounds to check on us.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes for your feeding, sweetie,” he says, perkily, stopping in my spot. He then proceeds to check on my crying neighbor.

“What am I doing here again?” I yell, outraged. The man turns, but he doesn’t understand me. He hears crying, so he makes funny faces to soothe me.

I see he is a moron, so I stop trying to talk, which seems to make him happy.

I don’t understand why I’m here.

It feels like seconds ago that I was in the meeting in the Committee for Temporary Residents. I was told that I had passed all my previous life tests. I wasn’t exactly an “A” student, but they told me I could move on and live in the permanent energy realm.

I already miss the in-between lives realm. I miss flying in infinite spaces, where there are no boundaries. Here, I feel trapped. Although I prefer these new glass units, I can see what's outside.

There are so many people coming by to look at the new arrivals. They are in awe of how cute we are. Out of nowhere, an attractive senior couple appears. They point in my direction and mouth words like I could read lips. I suspect they must be my grandparents. On one hand, I am grateful they are here, but they are blocking my view.

Creating stories for the passerby suited to their faces helps me kill time. I`m really not qualified for anything else yet. But they still don't seem to want to leave. I’ve never been the one to understand all the fuss from the family. How cute can I really be? I’m bald, pale, immobile, and look like every other newborn. I’m not sure why that makes the grown-ups melt. 

Unexpectedly, I feel ill.

Angst begins flowing through my mini baby body. It’s daunting: everyone around you knows you, but you don’t know them. And I couldn’t understand why the committee had lied to me.

Quite boldly, I really don’t want to do the life thing again. You need to learn how to crawl, walk, talk, play, deal with people, love, get hurt, lose loved ones…  Suffer to gain wisdom.

Life is also one never-ending lesson after another. It can really wear you out.

When you think it’s under control, the universe intervenes: “It’s time for change.”

I thought I was done with the change business. I thought I would be moved to the chronic eternal permanence realm.

A pretty blonde with big green eyes has joined the elders. I believe she is my mother. I have a slight memory of lying on her. At least I had one less thing to worry about in this life. I looked like Mona Lisa in the last one.

While they were admiring their new bundle of joy, I felt frustrated. The committee usually provided a briefing explaining why they were sending you back. This time, there was nothing.

Lost in my thoughts, I did not notice that my new family had left. I guess my “baby” drool must have turned them off. Then, the male nurse came. It was time to change my diaper. Quelle honte ! I was French in my last life.

He picked up my legs and put the new disposable diaper underneath the old one. I had to think of something else during this invasive and humiliating act, so I visualized the beauty of roses. The beauty of roses had always made life worth living for me.

Suddenly, I heard the male nurse say, “Holly, you have the face of an angel.”

At least, one good thing.

I had to calm myself down. I was getting anxious again. Once you’re born, all you can do is wait for your time to end. It is what it is.

I just realized that without a briefing for this life, I had the freedom to choose my own purpose for this one. Hmm, I do appreciate beauty. I do love roses. Hey, that’s it: I’m going to become a Rosarian as an adult, and I’m going to open rose houses.

But apparently, I need an “A” to never reincarnate on earth again. Instead of opening rose houses, I will call them Rose Healing Centers. Many people do not know that roses vibrate at high energy frequencies, so they can raise a person’s vibrational energy. They vibrate four times higher than humans. They are healing.

But if I try to be a profitable entrepreneur like in my last life, I might lose my “A.” I’ll have to beg and get donations for my vision.

I’ll also need to ask my parent to change my name from Holly to Rose as soon as I can speak – it’ll be better for self-branding.

And then, half awake, I could hear myself snore. How unsophisticated a sound every human gets to make. But I had to go with the flow . . .