Japan, mid 16th century: I start the first lifetime of my last Earth cycle. Born into a family where no one believes in feeding children unconditionally, and both love and food are scarce. Unless I satisfy my mother with hard work, I’m starved, which is often.
When it becomes too much, I run to the forest nearby the village. I walk through the forest barefoot, looking for something to eat. But of course there is nothing but tree trunks and leaves and little animals that are too fast or too high up the trees and beyond my reach. I can only reach the dog that follows me whenever I come to the forest, but I like him too much to eat him. And even if I wanted to, how would I do that anyway? He is looking at me as if he loves me. My mother never looks at me like that. I wonder why. Maybe there is something wrong with me. My stomach growls.
My daughter’s death
I’m married to a merchant. Even though our marriage was arranged by our parents, we grew to love each other. First we had a son, then another. And then we had a daughter. I love her more than my other children. I seek to find the love my mother did not give me in her, or perhaps I want to mirror the love I wished to receive when I was little and reflect it to her.
When she is seven, she gets ill. For several days I stay with her day and night, but the fever gets worse. When the vomiting starts I still have hope she would survive, but she gets worse. Her skin starts to change, and her face and mouth are now full of sores. Then she dies.
My death
It was smooth. One moment I have pain all over my body, and the next moment I am out, looking down to my body.
“Oh god, look at those wrinkles! Did I really look like that? ” I said to no one in particular. Then I thought what a painful life I had.
“But you wanted to have all those experiences, remember?” I immediately know it’s my higherself responding to my thought. Some people call it over-soul, others call it subconscious to simplify things.
I did remember that I chose to have all those experiences, I had planned my life with all that happened in it, but still I was angry. It was just too much. No one told me that. Well, they did warn me, but not enough.
“I don’t want to go through that ever again! My poor child… it’s so painful to be a mother! I don’t want to experience losing a child ever again! You hear me? EVER!” I shout.
“I hear you, dearest extension of mine. I hear you. You won’t experience that, Not unless you want to, I promise.” Says my higherself.
“And I want to rest for at least three centuries.”
“Two.”
“What? Why?!”
“Trust me you want to see the eighteenth century. People dress so funny, lots of feathers and laces and huge hairstyles.”
“Fine! But I won’t marry and I won’t have children.”
“Deal.”
And with that promise from my higherself, my two-century rest started. Then it was time to dive into the next lifetime, so we started planning.
