In a few hours I will be at OHSU getting a vaginoplasty.
I just want to say that from where I stand, reincarnation is a dangerous delusion and heresy. I wasted most of the time during my transition believing in such things. I renounce them.
I now believe that my experience was a confabulation caused by a need to project the pain at the collapse of the false male personality I had constructed onto historical figures and externalize my mourning for a false ego.
I got a couple of good books and stories out of it, I managed to become an authority on William Longespee, and I discovered things I never knew existed that I now enjoy and cherish; among them the music of John Dowland and Linda Ronstadt, the aesthetic of the Edwardian era and the 12th Century Renaissance, 19th century maritime history, and the Point Reyes National Seashore which I will be returning to every chance I get.
But from where I stand, I no longer feel comfortable claiming any of the past lives I have previously claimed. I’m still in awe about how many things I got right and how many things I knew that I shouldn’t have known, but I’m also in awe about how many things I fudged in regards to confirmations.
I still want to travel to France one day to see Jack’s grave and pay some respects. I think he gave me some perspective that I was sadly lacking. But it’s too painful to think of myself having been him and I would rather go forward in my post-op life believing that we only die once.