Integration: France.

We have been talking a lot about this in my favourite place online, while in real life I was hectic attending family reunions, trying to write something serious in any of my books, assembling bathroom furniture and sometimes… feeling connected to my last days in France.

It is hard to say you have completely integrated a past life, especially when you have been a short time dealing with past life memories. Three years is not too much, and I have the peculiarity I remember many more lives than the average in reincarnation forums. I don’t know if that is good or bad, I wouldn’t change it for anything, but sometimes I do wonder how I manage not to get crazy with so many past life memories interfering with my current life.

France (royalist life, 18th century) is not a new life, but it is not as old as others. Only a few weeks ago I started to publicly share detailed memories of this life, though I was shy with part of them, and I have the feeling there is still a lot that need to be integrated. I have been too distracted with real life to meditate, now maybe it is three weeks since the last time, but I can feel some emotions brewing in my inside. One clear sign of this is going to watch The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies, and feeling so identified with Bard, among other things for being called “the town defender”, and wanting to avoid a war. I also felt jealous to see him encouraging his son to fight, and of course, I got emotional thinking my end was quite worse than theirs. Then, only this morning I heard of the shootings in France, and though I try not to put too much attention to the news, finally my partner made me see how the killers finished a man off when he was dying on the floor… which obviously brought me some similar memories.

And though undoubtedly death doesn’t mean the same to reincarnationists than to other people, that doesn’t make us insensitive to this kind of events… quite the contrary, at least in my case. And every time I turn on my laptop and contemplate the painting of one of those massacres in La Vendeé (the same I posted in this entry), it feels quite familiar and I wonder how I could have ended up involved in that. I wonder how it felt to be shot to death, watching women and children falling, dying around me, and the military men showing no mercy for all of us who gathered and tried to defend our rights. I know… of course I know. Through remembering I have been able to make those memories conscious, but only partially. I have some emotions stored in my brain, but I feel there are more still hidden. They have tried to come out, but I was too busy or maybe I unconsciously put a barrier between them and me, as I can’t deny my eyes fill with tears if I think too much about those final terrible minutes.

My son is also a sensitive part, he has always been, since the first short story I wrote inspired by Chris de Burgh and this past life of mine. I hardly remember a son or daughter I could raise until adulthood in all my past lives, and I am even wondering if there is a reason for that. I don’t think so, but it makes me sad anyway. It hurts not knowing about his fate, whether he made it or not, what he would think of his father’s decisions, what would have happened if only we had resolved to act a different way. I have also been wondering a lot lately about priorities: all human beings have to make choices according to what is important for them, and we all have our own scale. Is it your own family more important than anything else? Or must we fight for the collective well-being? I said I consider myself an individualist, and I am quite sure about that. But, on the other hand, analyzing my past lives as a whole, I see I am always up to die for a cause that at least theoretically it is good for the group of people I belong and I am loyal to, and I don’t mind to stay in the shadow. Maybe it is not I am an individualist, but rather an idealist who always ends up as a loner because I am the last one to give up. A fool, in a word. A fool who always want to get to the end of things, no matter what is lost on the way.

It is like one of the favourite quotes of one of my dearest friends (from the movie Big Fish):

“There's a time when a man needs to fight, and a time when he needs to accept that his destiny is lost... the ship has sailed and only a fool would continue. Truth is... I've always been a fool”.

If I was a fool, there were a few of us in that square, dreaming we could change the world and make it a better place to live. Yes, I think I keep being a fool. Death changed nothing after all.

EASTERN WIND

Well my furrows are filled with corn,
I have my woman to keep me warm,
But there's one thing that I do fear,
That eastern wind is getting near;

There's a shotgun beside my bed,
This is my country, where I was born and bred,
But I am sure, as the willow will grow,
That eastern wind is going to blow,

Blowing a hole in my life, eastern wind,
Running away with my life, eastern wind;

There's a woman who reads the stars,
She sees warlords on the planet Mars,
And she said, "Boy, you'd better beware,
That restless wind is getting near,

Blowing a hole in your life, eastern wind,
Running away with your life, eastern wind..."

They are coming, they are coming, they are coming, look out!

In my dream, I saw a crowd,
They were burning the palace down,
I saw a mad old man, and I ran to the door,
And then that wind began to roar,

And when they come, they'll find me here,
I will not run, they will not see my fear,
And I will fight to the very end,
Before that wind I will never bend,

If they're blowing a hole in my life, eastern wind,
Oh running away with my life, eastern wind,
Taking the plough from my hands, eastern wind,
Taking every bit of my land, eastern wind...

Hurting.

No… hurting is not the word. But I’m lost for words. I’m lost for everything, really. I don’t understand the world I’m living in anymore. I don’t understand myself. Friends that seemed good friends are suddenly gone or look strange… What seemed right in the past, now it’s wrong. All gone. All different. Wondering all along: what am I doing here?

I created this blog to talk about all the things I don’t feel comfortable talking about in other places. To force myself somehow to write about all those secrets hidden in the deepest places of my soul, as if I’m trusting the Moon and the Stars to listen and give me counsel, now that I feel no one listens anymore. The problem is… I don’t even know where to begin. Strong, bitter emotions, keep stuck inside. One day it seems it’s getting easier, but the next I’m back where I was. Someone told me emotional traumas (this life or past life-related) get crystallized inside of us, and no matter how much time has passed since the creation of that trauma, we have the impression we’re reliving it time and time again. We have to find the origin of that trauma and understand the illusion of the emotion behind it. Only then we can heal. Although I know she’s right, the problem I have here is that past and present have become the same. And just like I didn’t know how to deal with the hurting caused in the distant past, I don’t know how to deal with it in the now… the fight is not useful any longer, or so it seems. What worked when I was young, is not working now. However, things haven’t changed much… only, I’m a bit older now, and I’m a lot more tired and hopeless. I’ve done all I was supposed to do, and even finished projects I started in my youth… but they’re fruitless. It’s like I’m treading on a barren land, after years and years working in the fields and sowing good seeds. I’ve gained nothing… as if I had done… nothing.

Is the end getting closer? Not the real end, but a new beginning… If that’s true, I don’t see it. Like Legolas before the battle in Helm’s Deep, I’m falling into despair. I used to listen to a radio broadcast which started with a phrase: “Only when the tunnel is in absolute darkness, light can start to shine again”. Am I reaching the deepest darkness of my soul? Is this the biggest trial I’ll face in this life, how to get out of this mess? I have no idea.

There are people in worst situations, some would say, to cheer me up. This crisis is striking hard on all of us, and there's a few around me going through tough phases too… well, that’s alright, but it’s no comfort for me. And though this in no way can compare to a war or to be killed in a revolution, I just thought for a while that I deserved some happiness, some tiny little happiness, maybe just knowing that people value my effort and my experiences and want to listen and learn. I have lots of things to say, there are hundreds of books inside of me, mysteries to be told, insights I can give, just like an ancient wise man beside a bonfire, with starry-eyed children and adults crowding around him, eager to hear the next tale. But the world is not like that anymore, as I was saying at the beginning of this entry. It’s becoming a confusing and dark place, with a lot of chatter but so few worthy words in it. With tons of information, but so little real knowledge. With people who follow blindly other people, searching for answers, when the answers are deep inside us… and always have been. Where we know better than ever how human beings have committed (and are committing) despicable atrocities… but we keep doing harm and turning our heads to the other side, as if we’re not responsible of everything that happens in our planet. And putting our faith in hollow symbolisms, and getting confused by old superstitions, as if we’re still living in the caverns, but now we dress with suits and we only worship our mobile phones… surrounded by technology, and denying our own spirituality, the only thing that really makes us human.

I’m lost. I’m a lost soul in an ocean of stupidity and my days are numbered. I can only drown.

I’ve just remembered a song that fits here, and it could be a good ending for this entry. It’s not the same time I feel like this. Feeling strange and isolated is not new in my life, of course. It’s only that it’s getting harder and harder to bear…  here in this space capsule I’ve built, while I’m watching the world and sometimes shouting… knowing no one can hear me… and there’s nothing I can do.

MISSION (A WORLD RECORD)

For many days we travelled from a distant place and time,
To reach a place they call the planet Earth,
There was to be a celebration,

On the mission of the sacred heart.

The planet Earth from way up there is beautiful and blue

And floating softly through a rainbow,

But when you touch down things look different here,

At the mission of the sacred heart.

Watching all the days roll by

Who are you and who am I?

On a dirty worn-out sidewalk, sits a mother with a baby,

In her vale of tears she sees no rainbow

And someone's singing from a window

In the mission of the sacred heart.

Watching all the days roll by

Who are you and who am I?

There's a building on a corner, in a city, in a land,

On a place they call the planet Earth,
My orders are to sit here and watch the world go by,

From the mission of the sacred heart.