A Lovely Reminder

            There is a bit of history to my nights in Old Paris, but first play with me and pronounce it in French- “pair-ee.” Yes, that is much more fun!

It was 2011, and I sat with my sons in a movie called Hugo. The movie was set in the early 1930’s in Paris. In one of the scenes, French music was being played in a café. My son turned to me and whispered. “Mom, how do you know the words to this song?” At that point, I hadn't even realized I was singing along.

Shortly thereafter, I saw another movie set in early 19^th century Paris, this time alone.  I sat strangely detached and wide eyed, holding my popcorn and diet coke (neither of which was consumed) as the recognition became stronger. The streetscape was comfortingly familiar; cobblestone roads lit by gas lamps. I had visited this place many times in my dreams—for more years than I could remember.

On the way home that day, I stopped at the grocery store. I recall walking out empty handed, and standing confused in the parking lot. My car….what was it? Where was it? I walked aimlessly through the parking lot, unsure of what I was looking for. I realized I held the key fob in my hand and thought to hit the red button. Across the lot, I heard the horn blaring and the headlights flashing. “The Subaru…” I thought to myself when I saw it. Safely in the car, I made the short drive home, noting to myself that this is why I might be a candidate for a facility in my older years….

That night, my dream state lit up like the fourth of July, and when I awoke, I knew that I wasn't losing it the day before. I had been straddling two realities; a “door” had been cracked open, and within the dream state I was flooded with memories from another lifetime. I played the piano, and very well. I had a small white dog. I was a bit of a socialite, though I wasn't clear on the source of my standing. Was it purely economic or talent?

I found myself there again last night - in Paris - walking along the gas lamp-lit street with a young man. I could see my dress shoes and my skirt with its layered flounce at the bottom, and I laughed flirtatiously while we discussed a story printed in the news.

Unlike the reincarnational story that became Timeless Waters, I have no idea what message, if any, that lifetime in Paris holds for me in my present reality. It is, though, a lovely reminder that each of us is far more than we know, and glimpsing that totality is not only available to us, but our birthright.

What a joyful ride it is!

Many Blessings,

Influences

A friend of mine recently picked me up for lunch, and as we left my office, we found ourselves at a stoplight that caused us to stop under an overpass. Knowing the inexplicable discomfort I had developed a few years ago about being stopped under an overpass, he crept up as far as he could, as to acknowledge his recollection of my phobia. My hands were already clasping my neck, and I nervously laughed and said, “This has to be from another lifetime!”

I believe I know the source, the fragmented details of which came to me as I was drifting into a meditative state while in New Mexico three years ago. I looked up and saw something coming down on “me-” a bolder? It was dirt colored, and in essence “I” was buried alive. Perhaps this is an influence; a soul memory that is manifesting itself as an irrational fear in this lifetime.

You have an irrational fear. Or something happens; someone makes you feel angry, abandoned, unimportant, or threatened-- you can fill in the blank with any number of emotional responses. You may even think you see the situation clearly for what it is and have every reason to feel the way you feel. Right? The answer is not as simple and straightforward as the quick path an emotional response can take, no doubt complete with full rationalization and justification.

            Not only are our perceptions impacted by a wide variety of factors in the present moment, if we are believers in reincarnation, there are influences across space and time that make their way into our reality. This can happen in any sundry of ways, and we may not be aware of what is influencing us. What is important is to hold in your conscious awareness the understanding that those influences exist, and to adjust your perspective or temper responses when it seems they don’t necessarily make sense.

            As we drove beneath the overpass on the way back to my office after lunch, my friend mentioned his irrational dislike of turquoise, and asked me if I thought it could be an influence from another lifetime. Knowing what I believe to be a portion of our past that was a Tewa lifetime in what is now northern New Mexico, I smiled to myself. “Yes,” I responded. “I believe it is.”

Blessings,

Sheryl


PS.
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