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My Life as a Boy — Chapter 151

Jack Calisher outside his lumber mill, 1878, didn’t expect to die that day, but he did.

Recognize this street? Well, you should. You died here in a gunfight in 1878, and that wasn’t the first or last time you died, but it’s an easy Past Life to remember, because the trauma was so strong. It wasn’t that big a deal to die — here you still are to tell the tale. “Death Row” was the name given to this Old West “Main Street” that saw over 100 gunfights in its day.

That’s one thing about death that people don’t generally realize. Death is not permanent.  In fact, death is so damn impermanent, it’s a pain in the ass, and I’ll explain why. You finally get the hang of a life you’re living, and wham! Along comes Death to wreck the show … but wait, weren’t you just barely crawling along, whizzing around in a wheelchair with a bottle of oxygen and a long clear plastic tube.

So how would you like to remember this death? You’d rather not re-experience a death? I don’t blame you, death is never pleasant, although it can be a great relief if you’re in terrific unbearable and unrelenting pain. Still, it’s not something we naturally seek, nor are we intended to. You’re here to do a job because you can. You were born with the ability to carry out your work mission. Whether you do it or decide to whack off for your whole life is entirely up to you. Continue reading