Been thinking about…reincarnation.

Been thinking about…reincarnation.

I never considered it seriously.  It seemed like a Hindu or Buddhist ideal…leading to Nirvana.  Not something I subscribe to in my obvious choice of faith.  But it’s surprising that certain inadequacies, a certain lack of satisfaction, random obsessions and interests in life could be so vivid, on the surface, yet I could so easily ignore.

I have always, always been interested in reasons.  Why? Why? Why? (My favorite question…one that so often does not provide satisfactory answers).  A good friend of mine, one who has one-third less years of experience, and possibly, two thirds more of life experience (sometimes I wonder if I’ve been stagnant in my evolution)…planted the seed in my head.  She said, “Perhaps in your past life…you were…” I don’t think she even got it right.  But it got me thinking.

Ever since I was a small child–by small I mean, 3, 4, 5 years old…then later as a 5th grader, a middle-schooler, a 17 year old…I had obsessions.  The Kennedys.  The British Royals.  Beverly Hills 90210.  Dynasty.  Grace Kelly…Princess Stephanie. Princess Diana. Natalie Wood.  Marilyn Monroe. Elvis and Priscilla.  Oprah. I’ve been drawn to [boring] documentaries on Queen Elizabeth (the original), Marie Antoinette (never caring about her great inability to sympathize with her subjects)…Catherine the Great, Tsar Nicholas and his family (remembering how unfortunate it was that his ONLY son was a hemophiliac), etc. etc.   I never stopped to think of why I was drawn to these people…but I was.  And it never stopped.  Celebrities, I don’t mean your every day B-lister who makes dumb mistakes, I mean………..legends, pure legends through time…these are the people I craved to learn about…to learn about how they lived, how very detached they are from the plight of common folk (me).  How things don’t affect them…the economy, financial struggles, price tags.  How they are well known, popular, famous, infamous even.  I mean, I never related to Oprah more than the time she made headlines about not being allowed in to Hermes after working hours (DO YOU KNOW WHO SHE IS?!). Ahh.

Why this obsession? Why do I care so much?  Why do I want to be like them? Why do I want to get a glimpse into their personal and home-lives? Why?

Perhaps I was one of them.  In a past life, I was one a detached, distant, unsympathetic, haughty, frigid, rigid, spoiled, self-centered monarch, daughter of a monarch, wife of a monarch, or a celebrity who met her demise far too early.  Someone pained, internally, yet someone who lived in the lap of luxury, was catered to, and had the affection and attention of the masses, without ever giving them a glimpse of her internal turmoil.  Truly.  Someone envied, admired, adored…without just cause.

Is this the reason I’m so concerned with perceptions?  Is this why I am concerned with material possessions?  Is this why I am so damn unsatisfied with my day to day…why I always daydreamed as a child and wished I was somewhere else…why I wish I lived in Camelot, in Tara, in a world of spiral staircases, chauffeurs, elaborate gowns, jewels, and servants?

Maybe I’m not the only one.  Maybe a lot of people obsess and show interest in these things.  Maybe as humans we love to get a glimpse into something that is so far fetched from our every day-reality…maybe this is why we have obsessions with stars and politicians.  But, then again, my obsession has been deep rooted toward deceased legends.  Not mere celebrities.

Whatever it is…the thought of having been among them, is an easy reason for my lack of satisfaction in the here and now, of who I am and what I possess, of where I come from and where I’m going.

It is contradictory.  It causes a lot of conflict, internally…as I am torn between Christian ideals (my unique soul, reflecting through my unsatisfying body, and some day [hopefully] living a euphoric eternity in heaven] vs. Eastern thinking, Eastern Religion, Eastern everything else that I’ve been brought and taught to shun, pierce through, and ignore.   However, I haven’t been able to ignore them entirely.


©2012, Leegal Deeva.  All rights reserved.