Cowboys and Indians and Reincarnation

The other night, kiddo said to me "Remember a long time ago when you were the kid and I was the momma?" I smiled and said "Yeah, I remember that. That was a great time." And it got me thinking - maybe it happened. Maybe the people important to us are constant from lifetime to lifetime, and we all take turns in the different roles, like kids at play. "This time you be the cop, and I'll be the robber." "This time you be the Indian, and I'll be the cowboy." This time you be the student, and I'll be the teacher." Except in each role, we're all students, and we're all teachers. I may have been alive longer than my son, and therefore have both important and unimportant things to pass on, but that doesn't mean I have nothing to learn from him, either. About him, about myself, about how the world works.

Perhaps this is true of all the people we cherish and hold close to our hearts. Maybe in each lifetime we've acted out different roles, engaged in different games, learned different lessons. Maybe this is true of all the people we react strongly to, both positively and negatively. We're all just trying to work things out. Trying to get it right this time. Trying to see and understand each other's perspectives. Maybe we seek each other out again and again, trying to complete what we started. Or find a better way. Or understand more about ourselves. Or maybe this world can be so f***ed up confusing sometimes that we need to find the people who make it a bit more sane. Make it feel safe. Like home. Or maybe it was the late-night beautifully poetic musings of an almost-4-year-old, and there is nothing else. And maybe there doesn't need to be.

To all the people in my life, I am grateful for you. I may not say it often enough. I may not open myself wide enough most days. Sometimes it's hard to see past your own sh*t, especially when you feel buried in it. But I do appreciate you. Love you. Hope you're doing well.

I think next time, I want to be a cowboy.