The other day I was reading Song of Ice and Fire, Book 5, and tears
came to my eyes when I read the descriptions of what is like to be aboard a
ship and travel long days and nights. Since I went to the Naval Museum of Madrid around two weeks ago, my past life as James has become very present. I have
always said that my life in the Royal Navy is one that I would live over and
over again. It had its downsides, but it makes me so proud to know how much I
learned, how much I fought, how much I enjoyed each and every moment. No wonder
I feel so nostalgic when I think about it. All our past personalities are part
of who we are today, one way or the other, but probably James is the strongest
one, even when it might not seem so. I want more memories, that is for sure, there
are so many blanks to fill yet, pieces that I can’t seem to reach, both good
and bad. I had a new one the other day and I treasure them like jewels. But, as
we reincarnationists know, even the best of memories is just a brief glimpse of
the past, blurred and distant, like echoes that whisper in the dark (this
reminds me of another past life song I have to post one day).
I entitled this entry “Pitch Black”
because I have always loved that English expression. These days it is hard to
see a real “pitch black” something. Undoubtedly the only time I could see
nothing, that is to say, NOTHING AT ALL, with my eyes opened, of course, was
when I visited a cave and at the bottom of it we were told to turn our
helmet lights off, only for five minutes. It was impressive. Disturbing. Scary.
Even maddening, after a while. Or so they said, because I loved it all the
same, and though in these cases people start to talk or make japes, I would
have stayed there much longer. Maybe I would have started to see better than
ever before, even meditating.
Other “pitch black” place I have
known is the beach at night, if there is no moon and you are far enough off the
town. But usually you have a light or two at the sea, maybe a ship passing, a
beacon... It is also a bit scary, but you are near the land, quite safe, so it
is not the same as sleeping in a boat or a ship.
When I was small and my family got
up at 4:30 a.m. in the morning to drive to the coast, I would stare at the dark
sky and felt so, so happy being a witness of such beauty, of such immensity up
there... In moments like this I have always been so grateful of being alive.
And now, knowing all I know of my past lives, I wonder if I felt just the same
when I was James and breathed the salt air every night, as we were crossing the
Atlantic Ocean, after a hard day’s work. I wonder what I thought then, what I
feared, what I hoped, what I missed... Or maybe all my concerns disappeared and
I would be enchanted beholding the pitch black sky above me or the stars
shining, guiding me at night?
While I was reading that book, these words resonated to me as never before:
“On moonless nights the water was as black as maester's ink, from horizon to horizon. Dark and deep and forbidding, beautiful in a chilly sort of way, but he looked at it too long Tyrion found himself musing on how easy it would be to slip over the gunwale and drop down into that darkness”.
And even with all that darkness, they whispered to me: PEACE. Maybe it is because I knew that no one would attack in the middle of the night. Maybe it is because we would stop sailing and rest peacefully for a few hours. Maybe because those were the moments I yearned for when I was inland, attending boring sessions at the Parliament. Maybe because that was my dream come true, all that I had wished for before I became a sailor trained to kill the enemy.
Reading those lines I get clear images in my head, it is one of those instances when you can suspect it is not just your imagination creating a scene from the written words, but something else that comes from deep within you. Tears keep welling in my eyes when I think about it, it is as if my heart still longs for the sea, or maybe just for that long-forgotten peace, where a man like me could just sit and watch, be proud of his crew, and dwell in the illusion that the sea was all mine to sail... if only for a while.
