Second time around Pt 2
Second time around Pt 2
Despite having been raised a Protestant I have, over the years, tried to cultivate a curiosity about other religions, including Buddhism. Certainly to try not to rush to judgement, but to listen – both to those guiding me and to my own inner voice as it reaches out with childlike naivety.
Christianity talks a lot about the imminence of Christ, in a Second-Coming sense, but very little about the immanent nature of faith – a purity and reaching that comes from within. Too often it is a blind dedication to the first concept that prevents some Christians reaching across faith with gentle hands.
Humans are quite capable of holding multiple contradictory concepts in their minds and hearts at the same time. The importance of family, while ostracising a sibling for a gaff. The joy of friends, while leaving a friend’s minor transgression unforgiven.
So it is scarcely strange that a Christian could believe in the tenets of their own religion, while allowing reincarnation to occupy a couple of bookspaces in their “internal library”. As I said in the preceding article, to some extent it is the same train, with the same destination but a discussion about whether additional “stations” (Lives) might exist.
Past lives was no more than a periodic conversation for me until about 15 years ago. One of my psychic friends [I mean seriously, scary psychic] mentioned that I’d had a past life as a royal messenger. Talking about it we narrowed this down to early 900AD in the region of Vaucouleurs, in what today is north-eastern France. For those who know their history, it was here that Joan of Arc’s crusade to liberate France from the English began in 1428.
News of my past life ran, and runs, the shiver of a cold sword blade down my spine. Suddenly, a dramatic déjà vu experience was explained. I had frequent déjà vu all through my travels around Europe in 1977, but nothing comparable to the region of Vaucouleurs. Here, driving along an unremarkable back road, I “recognised” where I was. I knew what was a mile down the road, what was five miles ahead. I was home.
Suddenly, a dramatic déjà vu experience was explained
Another interesting “indicator” was that I’d chosen to study French at high school and now, after a month in France, I realised I was forgetting how to speak English.
But back to my psychic news. Inspired by it, I connected to the way I channel things best – I wrote a short story called The Messenger. It flowed from my fingers effortlessly, as if I was grounding the electricity of the truth. Of course, I don’t mind if you dismiss this as wishful thinking. It is not crucial what you think, as long as you know my belief is sincere.
One additional thing. Some years later, without even considering my “past persona”, I studied fencing for a couple of years. It was great fun and fitness. One night I couldn’t hold my foil steadily in my right [primary] hand. The instructor suggested changing hands, and stance. It was incredible. I felt more stable and secure than I ever had wielding it right-handed. It felt like it was born to be there. And it is the ONLY thing I have EVER done left-handed. Echoes of Dark Age France?
I also wrote a poem related to this, after meeting a young woman who was the first person I ever got a clear feeling that I’d known in a past life. Called “The Dacian Princess”, it described how we’d met but been parted. A friend gladly published it on a Facebook site. What gave me a cold slap when I saw it posted was that my friend had “happened” to pick an image which not only resembled her but featured a distinctive and elaborate necklace I’d pictured her wearing. That took my breath away.
I’m not uncomfortable tucking reincarnation “under one wing”. Frankly, it gives even more purpose to life to have life upon life, even putting the concept of karma aside. If, in our essence, we are all “splinters of God” sent to experience successive lives, that, to me, sounds eminently sensible than one life, one death and a long wait for one resurrection. But, then, I’ve got a bet each way, haven’t I?