19:38 - Tuesday, Mar. 17, 2015
Opportunity is probably the wrong word. Time is better. All the lives I don't have the time to live. No. Not time. Enough reincarnations. All the lives I don't have enough reincarnations to live. That's not right either.
I started thinking about it because I realized I had no concept of what it would feel like to have immigrated to the U.S. with a tenuous grasp of English (certainly having started from zero) and be spending much of my time in a darkened room, hands covered in oil, staring at strangers' varied skins and asking the same staccato questions over and over.
That got me thinking about how I also had no concept of what it felt like to be a shepherd. I'm not sure why I went to being a shepherd. I just did. Crook and all. Maybe I thought of it because I always used to feel really guilty inside whenever anyone told the fable of the Boy Who Cried Wolf, since I constantly cried wolf.
Then everything came tumbling into the center in a big messy spiral: I realized, in turn, that I had no concept of what it felt like to:
- live in a cold place without good heat and work daily out in the snow
Some of these things involved things that I could conceivably do, if I traveled far enough, and asked to do a life-for-a-day thing, in a touristy kind of way, but most of the things involved people I could never be, no matter how many trips I took or lives I briefly assumed.
It's not fair. It's so incredibly not fair that after thinking about all these things I would never understand, I briefly began believing in reincarnation just because of how unfair life would be if reincarnation didn't exist.