It is strange, once you have been remembering past lives for a few years, to observe how you deal with memories in a different way. Then you realize how wise your subconscious mind is, letting you see only snippets of those past lives until you are ready to see more. I wonder how I would have dealt with the details that were revealed to me in my latest regressions at the beginning, when there were already a deep longing and a deep depression caused by the death of people I loved. It is clear it is no good for your own mental health to be flooded with so many emotions. It took me a few months to understand my Norwegian sailor hadn't abandoned me, had never hurt me, he didn't even die before me. I missed him so much during that life, and it hurt so much to leave him behind. Now, losing all my Indian tribe was terribly painful. I have seen so much death in my regressions, I have remembered so many things, sometimes you think there can't be more waiting. But there always is. I was quite surprised when I remembered I had seen dead people in other lives: old relatives, compatriots fighting in a revolution, my German soldier, right before my eyes... I just can't begin to imagine how a little girl must have felt seeing all those corpses, the bloody remains of the slaughter, the pregnant woman killed in the teepee where the white men broke into, the body of her close friend. Well, that isn't true: I can. Enough pain has reached me, more than two hundred years later, for me to imagine. But probably not all. Even so, I felt the weight in my heart for two days, only when I regressed, not during daytime. In the second regression, where I remembered a bit more what happened to me the years following the massacre, I felt a lot of relief. I felt a lot lighter. I felt like I have finally reached the end of my journey, the final pieces of the puzzle fitting together, as I even realized this life is probably the reason why I have always felt like a stranger and never could fit in a group. Coincidence doesn't exist, I always say.
Feeling lighter doesn't mean I don't feel pain anymore. As I write and see in my mind the fresh memories, tears well in my eyes again. I don't believe in complete "healing", if that means you turn cold towards your own past and forget everything about it. That hasn't happened to me yet, in any of my past lives, and no, I don't think it is because I am still stuck in my past or I need a hypnotherapist doing something with my brain. I think human beings are emotional beings, and memories are always linked to emotions, you just can't get rid of them completely. I feel the Indian girl I was had a good life after all, though a bit short. The pain I carried in my inside throughout all that lifetime is just indescribable, but I accepted my fate. I would have preferred to part and go with my kin to those green lands, but maybe the gods decided I had to live, and I obeyed. People would stare curiously and sometimes mockingly at me, but I didn't care. White men have always been very ridiculous, and I still think so nowadays. Whatever happened, it is amazing how it is all part of me today, the good and the bad. And though I know the journey doesn't end here, I feel like a new sun is rising and I have hopes for the future.
I have always said being here is a real gift. I love being alive, as much as I probably love being dead. I have left so many questions, doubts, and so much suffering behind, I only can be so grateful of being here, of being the way I am, and of having met so many wonderful fellow travellers on the path.
It turns out I talk a lot about
mourning in this blog, but I am not sure about the reason. It is true I was in
a difficult situation in my current relationship when I started to write here,
and it is also true I had a lot of mourning to do in regards to my Black Widow
life. Both lives were merging into one, as I knew a great part of my behavior had
an origin in the XIX century, when my husband cruelly mistreated me.
But now it is a different mourning,
the real mourning that takes place after you lose a loved one. I was born
missing someone, and recalling past lives and finding out death is not the end
helped me understand space is an illusion. Distance is an illusion. No one goes
“to the other side”, though the illusion is so strong you really feel a
profound emptiness that breaks your heart. Now that I have finally overcome all
those feelings and I can’t say I don’t miss anyone anymore... all right, only
occasionally, it seems the Universe sends me the final test to see if I can
graduate. The majority of my past life memories include loss in one way or the
other. I don’t think this is uncommon, but in my case it is a repetitive
pattern I don’t know how to interpret:
In XIX century I died and I left
my sailor behind. In this life he was the main person to blame of this past
life journey.
In XX century my German soldier
died (same soul than before) and I killed myself.
Long before that, he was my father and he was caught and killed by invaders. My mother and I were enslaved. I suspect
I killed myself or died violently.
Not sure when, all my Native
American family was slaughtered by white men and I was the only one left.
Mourning for a loved one and
accepting their loss, is already hard. Mourning for an entire family, including
old people and children, a whole tribe, the only people you knew and grew up
with, is awaking new emotions I had never felt through my past life journey,
and I can say it hasn’t been an easy journey.
I wonder why I am remembering this
now. Is there a point? Do I need something else to heal? I thought it was over,
I wasn’t even interested on finding out more about that little Native American
girl I once saw in one of my flashes, ages ago, when I was a newbie and tried
my first regressions. If I were a believer in karma, I would have to say I
spent the rest of my lives killing and breaking up families to deserve so many
separations from my loved ones. Or... maybe I could think I keep doing
something wrong and I don’t learn, so the same events keep repeating again and
again. What is there to learn from the loss of a loved one? Is there really a
way to make it “right”? No, I don’t believe that. Last time I asked my spirit
guide he said I already knew. And my theory, as I said in my last entry, is I
am doing kind of a master course on losing people you love and mourning, with
the only purpose of understanding and be able to help when I am ready. There are
a number of reactions to that event. As in any other event, some of those
reactions can be disastrous and lead you to your own death. I guess losing
people and things is one of the main causes for pain in this world. Pain is on
the root of many other feelings that can destroy your soul. It takes great
courage and wisdom to live a life carrying the burden of that loss on your
shoulders. Usually people don’t understand the toughness of these trials. I
think we have still so much to learn from death and beyond. I am beginning to
wonder if part of my fascination about death comes from the fact it is always
an invaluable opportunity to grow stronger. It is a tough lesson, of course.
Maybe that is the reason we must live through it so many times.
I haven’t seen yet the end of my
Native American life. But while I was recalling the beginning of my mourning
phase yesterday, after the initial shock, I was feeling like a seventy-year-old
more than like a little kid. Another thing that surprises me is the absence of
any kind of desire to avenge their deaths, as opposed to other past lives of
mine. Maybe I was too innocent to feel like that, maybe I was so devastated
there was only room for darkness in my heart, the darkness of my own sorrow. I
wasn’t looking for answers, there were no whys. It happened, that is all. The
sun goes up, the sun goes down. People live, people die. I believed they were
somewhere faraway, but still alive. I was sad they had gone to a place where I
couldn’t follow, just like Sam when he thinks he has lost Frodo (scene that always
made me so emotional). Only, my kin were really dead, and they were not coming back.
Some people use this expression to describe that “state of mind” where you can easily access past life memories, like many children do when they are riding in a car, having a bath or getting ready to go to sleep. But adults can experience it too. It can happen when you are doing a task that requires a bit of mental concentration but not a lot of effort, like ironing for example, so that your mind can wander. Other times you just get triggered by something you saw or a slight emotion, and if it strikes hard, it can send you straight to past life mood. I would say this is a step further than being “in the zone”, as past life mood is also a deep emotional “state of mind” where past and present seem to merge into one. You feel as if you are living in two worlds (or more) at the same time, and you don’t know how long it will last. Sometimes it is really difficult to shake it off.
Last week the death of a Spanish soldier on duty bothered me a lot, but it stayed in the background as there were other things occupying my mind. But when last Friday I watched his funeral on the news, I found out his wife was pregnant and due to give birth, and while I saw her there, completely devastated, I felt like I was being stabbed in my heart. I felt the wound, the shift of energy in my whole body, like a bolt of lightning. I had just had lunch and I was getting ready to go out, but I couldn’t. Even before remembering past lives I always knew I was very sensitive to this kind of events. I knew it was strange as I had never had any relation with the military, but back then reincarnation was very far from my mind. Now, that I do know I was involved in the military, but in other lives, the intensity of the reaction still felt strange. “How many more?”, I thought. That is my question now, and that was my question then, when I was a British Navy officer, tired of fighting in wars and watching young men falling one after the other. I have stopped wondering if this means there are still past life emotions that need to be “healed”. I don’t think there is anything to be healed. The only thing that remains is the same soul that lived through war and the loss of so many fellow soldiers, the same disappointed captain who witnessed how powerful, well-dressed men, safe in their offices, gave orders and sent young, innocent people, to fight and die for them, never caring how many families would be broken or how many fatherless boys would have to grow up alone. Feeling sad and angry, I had to sit down on the floor of my bedroom for a while, with tears in my eyes, suddenly remembering my own death in a war ship, my last thoughts about my wife and child I was leaving behind. It is long since I suspect I haven’t remembered everything. From the historical data I have, I know I was quite aware my end could be a bitter end, my job was quite dangerous after all, and I had even written my will a few years before. But I am sure my death wasn’t as peaceful as it seems. It wasn’t just my family, there must have been a lot of bitterness towards my superiors and the way things went those last days of battle. My actions may have been labeled as heroic, but the truth is a lot of those men dying with me were my men. My dear men.
Wars keep happening, and stupid deaths too. I don’t know who is to blame, I don’t even know there has to be someone to blame. We are all human beings, and we are here to live as human beings. We are killed today. But tomorrow we will kill. And no, nothing guarantees we won’t. The thing is that funeral sparked a flame on me and I couldn’t shake off the past life mood in a few hours. I grabbed my bags (heavy with stuff for my new home) and while I was walking to catch the bus I was feeling like the young sailor filled with dreams I was over two centuries ago. I could almost see the wet, cobblestoned ground under my feet as I was heading for the harbor, to get aboard a ship, not knowing what kind of adventures were waiting for me or when I would be back home again. The lock of hair falling over my eye felt like my old blonde curls caressing my cheeks when I was a young English man longing to be at sea and feel the breeze on my skin. I almost could hear the sound of the wooden planks my shoes would make as soon as I walked up to the deck.
Then past life memories from my last life, during the Cold War in West Germany, came to my mind too, as I had been wondering about my strong feelings about the Wall and my family’s past for days. It is weird, overwhelming, but at the same time so incredible, and wonderful, to feel nothing is past, to feel you are still the same person, the same soul, but living in a different country and in different circumstances. Nothing is lost. Not me, nor the other souls you met. There is continuity in life, there is always hope. You write to people who live in the other side of the Atlantic, but you still feel them so close, so close in your heart. Even people you don’t know like that Spanish soldier who lost his life, his wife and baby in a foreign country, you also feel them in your heart, as they are all brothers and sisters.
Sometimes I wish I could be always “in the zone”. It makes me feel so alive, it makes me feel I am so much more than what I apparently am now, much more than the rest of people can see. And it reminds me: separateness is an illusion. If it is true I am doing kind of a course on attachment/detachment, that would be my conclusion in my final thesis.
I know this is going to sound awfully arrogant, but I don’t mind. This is my blog and these are my intimate thoughts. I have had quite an active week, mentally speaking, working on a way to back my ideas about the mechanism of reincarnation with scientific knowledge already existing. And I have found the key. Now I feel I can finally rest at peace, and this is how I feel in the inside: no more doubts, no more confusion, no more need to fight with anyone, as I know that I am right and if they don’t see it like I do, it is because they are not considering all the data I have and they can’t glimpse what I call the Ultimate Truth. And I say “glimpse” because of course that is all I can get too, from my humble, human position. But some of us are just closer to that Truth than others.
As I suspected, I am not the only one who had come to the same conclusion. We are soul and body at the same time. And this is not a belief, it is based on the duality wave-particle. Jean Pierre Garnier Malet, a physicist, elaborated the Doubling Time Theory, in 1988, and he explained how we can shift our consciousness to a different reality where time is different, and this is how we can predict the future. Of course, it is much more complicated than this, and still, it is only a small part of my own theory on reincarnation and human nature. But now I know I am not talking nonsense. I know my beliefs are “something else”, and one day reincarnation will be proved, and finally all skeptics will have to admit who was right all this time.
But the thing is most people don’t realize this. People who believe in reincarnation ignore science. And scientists ignore metaphysical knowledge and the experiences of people who suffer NDE’s, learned to consciously astral project or remember past lives. I have grown quite jaded of the chattering in reincarnation forums. For a while I was still learning, but now I feel I am quite far from all those people who can’t stop talking but rarely reflect and never advance. I feel they are moving in circles. I feel not even reincarnationists can follow or understand me. They decided all we can have is beliefs, they insist remembering past lives is an individual journey, and somehow “we all have our own truths”. Well, of course remembering is an individual journey, and of course we all have our own beliefs, and I have nothing to say about it. But I also feel we have to work for Humanity, to bring knowledge —actual knowledge— to all those who keep being blind. Reincarnation must not be a religion. It has to be scientifically proved. And this is possible, that is what I have discovered recently. It is likely some centuries will pass before we can do it, but it is long since we have the tools and the bases.
I don’t talk about beliefs anymore. There are always discussions about different beliefs taking place in those forums: simultaneous lives, split incarnations, time doesn’t exist in the other side, the astral and spiritual worlds are mixed up constantly, people don’t stop asking about ghosts and other spiritual communications, they wonder how thinks work in other realms... Why, stop talking and study, analyze all the data we have! There are myriads of experiences out there, enough to bring clear, logical answers to these questions. The reliability of these experiences can vary, of course, but that is the reason we have to make use of our analytical, scientific minds, and differentiate them. We also have lots of data that come from the medical field, a lot more reliable, like NDE’s. Instead of thinking, we read something and we instantly say “No, I don’t believe in this account” and discard it. “My neighbor says her daughter dreamed about her future child before the conception. No, that’s crazy, I don’t believe it”. “Someone over lunch said a relative was about to die and he talked to an angel. An angel? No, surely he was hallucinating because of the drugs”. “What? You felt you could float while being asleep? No way! What did you eat last night?”
I feel there is no one there taking seriously all those accounts and analyzing what they have in common, searching for a possible explanation. Scientists are too busy studying other things, “New Age” people are busy building silly theories from doubtful sources and ignoring scientists, and in the meanwhile common people just get crazy not knowing what is false and what is true... The result is complete confusion. Advancement is impossible this way.
Well, I am trying to merge together all the knowledge we have, discarding myths and trying to back my own hypothesis with scientific facts. The soul is much more complex than we think. This is already known by many traditional teachings, but now I have found this can be explained by Western science. How time works in the spiritual realms can also be explained this way. The Truth is just in front of our eyes, and we just can’t see it.
My next book will deal with this hypothesis. My own scientific, logical, ultimate hypothesis on reincarnation and human nature.
I have been having a small disagreement (not even serious discussion) with someone on the internet about astral projection. I was trying to make her see astral projection must not be mistaken for mental projection (also known as remote viewing) or other type of psychic phenomena, which for her all belonged to the same bag, little more than “deep altered states of consciousness” such as meditation. She was intended to claim our disagreement was just due to semantics, and I insisted it is more than that. There is a difference, because I KNOW it, I have experienced it, and I have been doing it, along with lots of research, for two years now. You are welcome to believe in anything you want, you can doubt until you have your own experience, but please, keep an open mind and don’t throw my experiences to the bin just because I use the word “astral”, because you prefer to believe in scientists who suddenly had eye-opener experiences rather than in an “average” person like me (who funnily enough happens to be a scientist too), or because you just can’t understand those experiences and can’t bring yourself to believe in such “lunatic claims”. Reality is much wider than your beliefs or what your eyes can see. Eventually it looks like we were only having a misunderstanding and she didn’t want any help, which is fine with me, but in the meanwhile some feelings turned up.
I often feel so frustrated. It’s like talking to kids. It’s like witnessing those stares of disbelief when you are explaining a dog’s owner that their beloved pet has some “little bugs” (also known as mites) inside his ears, and that’s what’s making him shaking his head or making a bloody mess of his skin with his paws. That stare of disbelief becomes one of bewilderment when you take them to the microscope and invite them to take a look to the sample you took with a cotton swab. I think I have rarely felt such a pleasure in my clinical practice.
With astral projection is just the same. Only when you have experienced it you can begin to KNOW there is something real about it. You can doubt about it and have thousands of interpretations about what kind of phenomenon is. You can choose whatever names you want and try to classify your experiences in a thousand phases like Robert Monroe did. But you just can’t doubt it is REAL. Astral projection is not a fantasy, or “a very real dream”, or the delusion of someone who wants to believe in them. Astral projection is literally that: an OUT OF THE BODY EXPERIENCE. You are in a different body moving in a different dimension. A non-physical reality? Another plane? Those are all different names to explain the same reality. And that reality is a fact. But it seems certain people just don’t want to listen when a fact contradicts their beliefs, and they seem to think you just “believe” in them and you are trying to convince them of something, when you are just trying to explain to them a reality as real as the sun being a star or a disease being transmitted by water due to other type of “little bugs” living in it. It is just one step more from ignorance to actual knowledge. But some just want to go on blind. Others experience it spontaneously or learn to control it thanks to my advice... and then I feel the same pleasure when I see they have finally discovered another small part of the Truth.
Well, yesterday night I meditated a while before going to sleep and concentrating for another of my “delusional journeys” in the astral realm. I got asleep. But before that I started to get flashes from a past life. Flashes that are not new but were very important in that almost forgotten past life. My mother was being raped on a wooden table by a wild and strong man, while I was cowering in a corner gripping a knife in my hand, unable to move to save her. I was only a kid of maybe six, seven years old. I was hearing the screams of my mother, and I was willing to stab that damned knife in his back or his foot to stop him. I am not sure whether I eventually did it. If I did, it is likely I was pushed back or slapped and then I crouched, and I stayed there paralyzed, until he left and my mother and I could hold each other again, both trembling and weeping. That moment marked the rest of my life. Even my family knew it, but they always said I was too young and small to do anything to protect her. That wasn’t comforting to me, and I kept blaming myself for not being able to prevent that from happening. That feeling of frustration was always with me and determined a lot of the things I did afterwards. I grew up to be a really strong man, but I never was strong enough to protect my family. Sometimes you just can’t change things. And that same feeling of frustration is the one that haunts me when I feel there is nothing I can do or say to change the course of nature. I guess human beings are also part of that “nature”. I just can't change people's mindset, I just can't make stupidity disappear from the Earth, that same stupidity that makes people kill others just because they believe in different gods.
And that kills me.
You can give crutches to the lame, but you forget maybe they don’t want to walk faster. You can try to take the blindfold off their eyes, but you forget maybe they are happy in the darkness. You want to make this world a better place to live, but you forget this world doesn’t need to be changed, maybe. It is a place for fools, it is a place to kill and burn, it is a place for confusion and suffering. You only can sit down and watch the madness reign.
I can’t get the song “I see fire”, from the movie The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug, out of my head. The lyrics are quite simple, the melody is restrained, it evokes impending danger, and loss. And death. It brings past life memories, but not one or two... plenty of them.
Death is constantly in my mind. I am also feeling a bit blocked lately: like I said in my previous entry, there are emotions brewing in my inside, but it seems they don’t want to come out. I have a few scenes playing in my memory like a video player that got stuck. I know there are things missing there, but the pieces remain lost. They all are scenes of death.
If this is to end in fire Then we should all burn together Watch the flames climb high, into the night
This part reminds me of France. I have had to die alone in many of my lifetimes, but in this one we were a whole town fighting for our rights. There is something romantic about dying together, though most (normal) people would think there is nothing romantic about death. Well, I think there is kind of an intimacy when you are dying that makes it a very special moment to share with those who really care. I will emphasize “those who really care”, as that is something you do when you really love someone. That is what my soulmate did for me in Norway. But that was a peaceful death, and we were romantically involved. Dying in a fight is also romantic, but in a different way. It is a feeling soldiers know very well, and so, so hard, to find in real life. In France we were not even soldiers, but there was union among us. There was pride. Maybe there was desperation too, and we knew we were going to lose. But we fought anyway.
And if we should die tonight, Then we should all die together Raise a glass of wine for the last time
More of the same. Only... the words “for the last time” are not exact. I would add “for the last time... in this life, with these bodies”. The chapter is over, but not the book. We will meet again in the future. And this, that may sound quite romantic too, a plain illusion, might surprise certain people when you find out it is totally true. It also reminds me of Cloud Atlas, and how blind we are to the Truth. It is a bittersweet feeling, because even when you know the Truth, sometimes you don’t have clear memories, so knowing the Truth is not too useful or practical.
It also makes me reflect about the meaning of time. Our lives are so short, but we keep wasting our time. We think death is still far, but it can be around the corner. The last time can be any moment. Death may come unexpectedly, in an accident, in a murder in the street, in a battle. You get up one morning hoping you will return home to hold your wife and kiss your boy goodnight, and that moment may never come. All my life I have thought words can’t remain unsaid, but thing is, it is quite likely some words will always remain unsaid. Why, I don’t know. I could say it doesn’t matter, because we will all meet again in the other side. But even when death is not the end of everything, death means the end of a physical life, where there are others connected to you one way or the other. And as most of them live unaware of the Truth, words unsaid can do a lot of harm. There is another song I love as well, Marillion’s “Dry land”, that says “You’re so violent with your silence”. And yes, I have come to know you can indeed be very violent without saying a word. I even learned to use it as a weapon. Not anymore. But still, we human beings are like this. We can be talking about the weather for a couple of hours, but never say what is important to your own mother or sister, for years.
It is also true that sometimes words are needless sometimes, especially when you are going to die and you know it.
And I see fire, Hollowing souls I see fire, Blood in the breeze
And I hope that you remember me
This reminds me of my son. The one I left in France, I don't know if dead or alive. I said to him "Remember this day". I knew we were not going to make it into History, but I wish we had. I am proud some of my countrymen did, and they should not be forgotten. Victims —from either side— should not be forgotten. But too often they are. In no other life I saw more deaths than in this one. And I have no memories of the aftermath, but I wonder what all those hollowing souls do when massacres happen.
And if the night is burning I will cover my eyes For if the dark returns Then my brothers will die And as the sky is falling down It crashed into this lonely town And with that shadow upon the ground I hear my people screaming out
My brothers and my people. These are the words that stand out the most from this verse. It takes a lot of love to call “brothers” people who haven’t grown up with you, but when you feel that’s the kind of love that binds you to people you haven’t even met in real life, only online, you wonder whether you have gone crazy or suffer a certain psychiatric syndrome still to discover. And if, in addition to that, you share some past life memories with them, then it’s clear: you have lost it.
Or maybe not. If I have unexplained paternal instincts towards a person even before remembering a past life together, and then it turns out she was indeed my son, then reincarnation might be the explanation. But there are not only paternal instincts, it turns out you also were brothers, and it is quite likely you were also friends... So, what are we really? Many people think motherly love is the best. I’ve always thought that is not true, I think it is very influenced by hormones and nature, it is just a survival behavior. I have always thought that real love is the one that happens when you can love people outside your family, outside your race, outside your town, outside your own species... It is expected you love your kin, otherwise you would be a traitor. Loving someone different, that’s “real love”. And if I have to choose human love, I would choose the love among brothers, as that means it doesn’t matter how you are, or how well you get along, you will be there for me and I will be here for you. We are a team. We may be apart for years, leading different lives, but the bond is always there. Of course I am talking of true brothers, this doesn’t mean there has to be necessarily a blood relationship. That’s what real friends become. That’s the feeling that arises when you spend twenty-four hours a day living with someone and afraid of bombs. Or crossing the Atlantic Ocean back and forth, getting sick on deck, wondering what you will do when you have to shoot someone from the first time, not knowing what the future might bring. Fearing death approaches brings people together, even when you just can’t bear each other. And it is people like this you would love to die with, if you had no other option left.
Brothers. I know I had lots of them in that ship that got awfully burned down. I also have something about fire, but I don’t know exactly what. I don’t remember fire, but there must have been. I don’t remember their faces, but I am sure they were there, and they lost their captain. Sometimes I think I took them to their deaths, but probably they were fighting for the same reasons than me... and we all had hopes to return home safe. Only we didn’t. We died. Together.
I SEE FIRE
Oh misty eye of the mountain below Keep careful watch of my brothers' souls
And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke Keep watching over Durin's sons
If this is to end in fire
Then we should all burn together
Watch the flames climb high, into the night
Calling out father, oh
Stand by and we will,
Watch the flames burn auburn on
The mountain side...High
And if we should die tonight,
Then we should all die together
Raise a glass of wine for the last time
Calling out father, oh
Prepare as we will
Watch the flames burn auburn on
The mountain side
Desolation comes upon the sky
Now I see fire, Inside the mountain
I see fire, Burning the trees
And I see, fire, Hollowing souls
I see fire, Blood in the breeze
And I hope that you remember me
Oh should my people fall then
Surely I'll do the same
Confined in mountain halls
We got too close to the flame
Calling out father, oh,
Hold fast and we will
Watch the flames burn auburn on
The mountain side
Desolation comes upon the sky
Now I see fire, Inside the mountain
I see fire, Burning the trees
And I see fire, Hollowing souls
I see fire, Blood in the breeze
And I hope that you remember me
And if the night is burning
I will cover my eyes
For if the dark returns
Then my brothers will die
And as the sky is falling down
It crashed into this lonely town
And with that shadow upon the ground
I hear my people screaming out
And I see fire
Inside the mountains
I see fire
Burning the trees
And I see fire
Hollowing souls
I see fire
Blood in the breeze
And I see fire (Oh you know I saw a city burning) (fire)
And I see fire (Feel the heat upon my skin, yeah) (fire)
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...
