Silver Lining
by Trismegistus
I loved reading their history. I read and reread all the scrolls, books, and records I could acquire, and in the end it was worth nothing. I was a tactician, and tacticians read analytically, examine text and subject the way a scientist examines cells under a microscope. I never believed that any of it might ever pertain to me. I was never going to die. None of us were.
The thing that the histories and the sutras and the Lord of Heaven himself don't tell you is that you wait after you die. Rebirth is far from instantaneous. Once you're thrown into this cycle of samsara and karma you wait. I imagine I'm in some kekkai midway between the Celestial realm and Down There, although I can't be certain. After all, no one tells you about this part.
This limbo state lends itself well to reflection. Even though I know, academically, that once I'm reborn as a mortal I'll have no real memory of my life before early childhood, let alone my previous existence as a celestial, well, it appears I'm allowed my memory while I'm waiting. And there's a lot of time to wait, to sit, to mull over all of it - what went right, what went wrong. What I did, what I didn't do, what I never did but should have done. I'm a strategist by nature as well as profession, and the small complication of my death hasn't stopped me from strategising. I play scenarios out in my head until I'm certain I've figured out how I could have done things right, how I will do them right, the next time around. I've got my memories, the knowledge of what went wrong and all the time I could possibly need to figure it out.
"But," as you would say, "the bitch of it is you don't get to take it with you."
For all that we accomplish now, we won't be permitted to remember any of it - not the scenarios, not the solutions, not even the reasons why we all became mortal in the first place.
Not even each other.
"The bitch of it is..." you would say if you were here, and then laugh.
Ah, yes, you. I know... Well, to be specific, I don't actually know, but I imagine that the time I spend here, wherever here may be, is supposed to be spent in contemplation of my many missteps, with challenging the Emperor of Heaven probably ranking toward the top of the list. But I can't think about that, at least not without thinking about you. And as far as my memories are concerned, I do prefer thinking about you.
The bitch of it is...
I won't take any of it with me. Not who I was, who I knew, what I did, not my scenarios, my solutions, nothing. I imagine with all that stacked against one's favor, it's going to take a long time to get things straightened out.
On the other hand, from what I hear about samsara and Down There and enlightenment and human mortality and how they all fit together, we are all going to have plenty of time to set things right. As long as it takes, in fact.
I've had a lot of time to consider the things I should have done, wish I'd done. I never told you I loved you. But in my defense, I never thought I would need to. What need had I to say those words to you? We lived in Heaven. There is - was - no death in Heaven. Why should it have even occurred to me to tell you that I loved you? I never had to worry that I might ever face the possibility of an existence without you. We were both Celestials. We had eternity.
Small comfort to you now, I'm sure. But if I'm going to be born as a human to live Down There, at least I'll be able to witness firsthand the things that made those histories so fascinating to me. Be part of the histories, even. And I will have a chance to tell you that I love you. Many chances. As many, in fact, as it takes to get things right.
