I’m not sure if I really believe in reincarnation, but I do find the notion very seductive.  One can take a measure of comfort in the belief that, although one’s physical body may be dead, the soul can still thrive.  Just think about it.  I, or at least my soul, can start a new life in a different physical body or form.  Which leads me to ponder about my present life, and whether my existence as Susan just may have been the result of transmigration, and in a former life I was,   let’s say, a platypus.  But a discussion about past lives is a topic for another day.

If you’re wondering what triggered consideration of reincarnation at this time, I’m about to tell you.  (Even if you’re not wondering, I’m about to tell you.)  You can blame it on the time of year.  It’s fall, all right, but for me, it’s also check-up season.  It’s the time when all of my annual medical visits come due, and with each passing year, it seems the calendar of appointments grows longer, and I am running from one doctor’s office to the next.  My body is no longer a singular entity, but is dissected into its separate components, each one falling under the purview of a different medical specialist.

So what does this have to do with reincarnation, you may well ask? (Even if you don’t ask, I’m about to tell you.)  Assuming I have some personal input as to where my soul lands in the next life, I’ve decided that I want to return as a car.  And although I’m still trying to decide about make and model, foreign or domestic, sexy or practical, I’m certain that I want to spend my next go-around on earth as an automobile.

Does my choice surprise you? (Even if it doesn’t, I’m about to explain.) It’s simple, really.  At least to me.  Since Labor Day I have visited an ophthalmologist, cardiologist, gastroenterologist (that was the worst) periodontist, radiologist, and gynecologist.  Waiting in the wings are the dermatologist, podiatrist, internist, and at least one more, whose specialty escapes me at the moment. (Perhaps it’s a memory doctor?)  It’s exhausting!

But when I’m a car, and it’s time for my routine checkups, will I have to make numerous appointments and drive around from waiting room to waiting room? No!  It can all be accomplished in a single visit at one location.

While I’ll continue to have as many moving parts as I currently do, possibly more, I will not be required to make separate appointments with a transmission expert, or a tire rotation specialist.  I will not need someone with a degree in oil changes, brake examination, or piston inspection, not to mention a lube maven.

And, the visit won’t require my insurance cards, photo id, or checking off the boxes on an endless number of forms inquiring about my medical history.  And the mechanic is not interested in the number of pills I take, or if there’s any possibility that I might be pregnant.

And best of all, I will no longer be required to wear those ridiculous paper gowns that open in the front, (or is it the back?), that barely cover your anatomy no matter where you tie the strings.

When I’m a new car, the maintenance visits will be simple. But as I get older, and some of my parts need replacing, there won’t be the hassle about finding the right specialist.  The same friendly mechanic will have me up and running in no time.

All things considered, I think I’ve made a rational choice for my next life. And I feel supported by the fact that, if one examines the word “reincarnation” they will surely find the clue that helped guide me in this direction.

And when my mileage adds up, and it’s my time for a trade-in, I won’t be sad.  Instead I will focus on the possibilities for my next life.  Perhaps I can be something without a body altogether, and be completely maintenance-free.  So if I do have a choice, next time I should like to be Alexa.

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