Many Wives, Many Masters

Were you really a king in one of your past lives? I mean, of course, you were. You also had one existence where you got to steer the course of what we now know as, the Ottoman Empire. And then, there was that incarnation, when Cleopatra was begging you to stay the night and yet, you had to break her heart. You bad boy. There was never a time when you were a dog or, even worse, a snail, with a manic condition. No servant appearances or bored farmers. No insect interval, but you may not remember those because of the short life spans.

It’s amazing. This stuff happened to everyone. Not one of us is exempt, whether we accept it or not. Some remember, some don’t. That’s what they say. There is an entire literature and industry devoted to this kind of physic exploration. Guys will take your there. Induce memories. Regress you by hypnosis. Or, just look at you and start revealing your past.

I have dreams, but that’s about as psychic as I get. I want all that other stuff to happen – to see the future, be abducted by aliens, and commune with spirits, but it has never happened. I believe it, but I have never had any real experience. Sure, I’ve hallucinated, but that’s different. I want some evidence. Dreaming you are escaping Nazis or Iraqis is not the same thing. There’s so much of that on TV and that’s just the same as dreaming you’re driving a new car.

But every now and then there’s something. Something that happens. Someone you meet. And it’s not just deja-vu, which has some perfectly rational explanation that I am not familiar with. You look at them and they’re looking at you and you both feel something. I know, you think I’m talking about love or romance or something like that. Well, I’m not. Though she is a woman, she is at least 30 years older than I am and the mother of a friend. Not that I am defensive, but I am not that kind of guy. This really happened to me and though I’m not sure I can say that this person and I were related in some way in another life, I do know that we both recognized each other. We had a bond. We had an immediate connection and communication with each other. We were soul buddies. The kind of thing it usually takes years to establish.

Stuff like this doesn’t just happen. By accident or for the heck of it. You can tell when you are experiencing the miraculous. There is a faint stirring of strings off to the left and goose bumps form on your forearms. Lights flicker and the furnace rumbles. One time, I met a guy in a bar. I was working, tending bar. We started talking and, though he was drunk (it was his birthday), this was another one of those special times. We were on a similar wavelength. We recognized each other. He was quoting Whitman and telling me about his job as a ‘nocturnal boring animal’, setting dynamite charges in tunnels, up in the mountains. He said I should quit my job and go with him to learn how to fish, with sticks or something, from the Indians in Oregon. Responsible employee that I am/was, I just couldn’t do that, but I did toss my apron and vest in the corner and help him celebrate. Was this another visit from a previous existence or merely drinking? I think the former.

I do not like the fact that these encounters are so hard to pin down. So impossible to explain. That there’s never time to get down with the other person and try to figure out where you know each other from or what was happening. It’s not that they think you’re crazy. They don’t. They get it. But then it’s last call or you’re leaving town or they are whisked off by someone, to talk about something completely boring. It’s upsetting. We’re talking about something ineffable, ephemeral, almost like a dream, except something that really happens. It’s a profound encounter. I miss these guys. There are plenty of wonderful people in this lifetime, but I hate to lose touch with the people I love. I am always looking people in the eye, searching for that familiar spirit. That connection, that certainty that ours is a meeting that, in this life, at least, we should celebrate, even if we can’t prove it. You don’t run into these guys everyday. I think we are so often alone in this world, or, even if we aren’t, it’s always great to see someone from the old hometown.