What If


What if I had been born into another family than my own, an Italian pasta-maker’s perhaps, or a German clog-dancer’s or, even better, a bilingual German-Italian  pasta- making clog-dancing family. To eat as much pasta as I want and exercise it all off dancing! Wow! That’s worth contemplating a change of heritage for!

What if I had been born at any other time than the mid point of the twentieth century? What if I had not been born female at all but rather male? What would my life be like then? I guess there sure would be some explaining to do to my husband!

Or, on an even more radical train of thought— what if my Creator, laughing at the possibilities of the probable outcome, had given my as yet unclothed soul the task of choosing where and in what type of vessel I would like to reside? What would I have chosen for myself?

Just what criteria would I have used to make the final selection of my earthly body? Intelligence? Beauty? Patience? Strength? Speed?  Flight?

Would I— coveting the magnificent splendour of the peacock’s tail— decide to be one of that species, and yet in my ignorance choose to be female? Too bad! So sad!

What if I chose to reside in the powerful feathered body of an eagle so that I could ascend to the heavens whenever I desired? Just how would I feel about getting dinner for the kids then?

What if I told my Creator, “Most anything will do as long as I get to spend a lot of time laying around in a bed?” I might now be a very disgruntled oyster, a real stick in the mud!

Supposing I had said “I’m a real team player and I can’t decide all by myself, but if you would be so kind as to give me a nice mate, that’s all I’m asking, and you can decide the rest.” Maybe I might have ended up somewhere in Utah hauling borax in the late eighteen-hundreds with a wonderful partner and 18 soul mates, and I guess the yoke would have been on me!

About Yvonne's Musings

Being the second of eight kids born in 11 years to my busy parents ultimately was a real advantage to me. I learned very early that if you wanted to be heard amidst all the noise the best way to accomplish it was to write your thoughts down. My first post to my mother," i hate skool. i cried at skool tooday!" was stuck with ABC chewing gum to the lid of the diaper pail, where I was certain that she would find it. Her attention quickly elicited in me a love of writing that has been life long. Seeking a wider audience I have decided to now, decades later, blog. Happy reading Mom! This is for you!

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