Thoughts From Previous Lives

I dunno. I sort of believe in the whole past life thing, and then again, I don't. I have an analytical brain that screams for scientific proof, but as much as I'd like to believe that somewhere along the way I was, say...a cat, I just can't get my arms around it.

I've had enough previous lives in this one I'm still living to make up for hundreds of years past. I mean, I think most of us have had pretty remarkable lives when you get right down to it. It's worth a little introspection, don't you think?

I love the ocean, and have an almost unnatural craving to be on the coast. I love being on a sailboat as it's gliding through the waves, and could literally eat seafood every day of the week. I suppose one might think I was some sort of sailer somewhere, and that could very well be true. I did learn to scuba, but found I also have an almost unnatural fear of being trapped underwater, so that's not something I pursued. I mean, I can't even put my face under the shower in the morning. I hold my breath and start to panic. I might have been a sailer, but I definitely went overboard. So, that's not a previous life I want to know about.

I love to travel and get a little crazy when I stay in one place too long. A little cottage near sea water would be lovely, but make sure there's enough room in the driveway for a 38-foot motor home. I want to be able to leave and discover other stuff, but take my snail shell with me. And, of course, my dog, my own toilet paper and my beloved Water-Pik. Call me eccentric. Not sure what this means I was in a previous life. Maybe a bus driver. Or maybe a gypsy, which is much more preferable to being a bus driver (my apologies to all those bus drivers out there).

 I feel like one of those hound dogs that had to turn around and around on a rug before finally settling on the right place to lay my head. Not sure what this means in the past lives annals. I'd be scared to find out. 

I'm also a pack-rat. Pack-rat is almost too nice a term. I literally have problems throwing anything away that I think could be recycled into something else. I'm currently on a "save-the-egg-cartons" kick. Especially those ones that have the fold-over plastic, which protects the eggs. I love those things. When I used to make fizzy bath salts, those were the perfect containers to make 12 at a time. I didn't have the luxury of a bathtub for four years, so I stopped making bath salts. But, you never know when I'll need a fold-over plastic egg carton. I'm also hoarding jasmine rice, but I suppose that's a whole 'nother story. My hoarding tendencies must come from a recent past life as a person struggling through the Great Depression.

So, although I would like to believe that in one way or the other I was, say, some Egyptian princess, I sincerely doubt it. I may have been something like a field mouse perhaps, or even a flower seller in merry olde England, but never anything of major significance. I just hope that once this life is over, I come back as someone born in to lots and lots of money,who lives by the sea and I get to travel a lot (with or without an egg carton fetish).