It always amazes me how those who are very young never consider that maybe there was a life that was lived by others before they themselves popped into this world.
They awaken each day thinking of their dolls, their toys, favorite TV shows, computer games, music stars. But when they see photos and videos, especially black-and-white images, of The Beatles, Elvis, Nazi Germany, the Civil War, it all seems so long ago and so very much out of touch with what they believe is current and important. As if some hazy distant nonexistent period in a long lost long ago time never really meant all that much, and surely has no relevance to their world today.
They listen as their parents share their golden memories of their wedding, when they first met, discussions about what-ever-happened-to that person back in high school. But even those conversations by the adults in the family, to the very young, are just illusions of something that may or may never have existed.
Lives that were fully lived – lost in time. To be forgotten. Full lives. Fulfilling lives. Lives that were filled with love, with sacrifice, caring for others, worries, problems, solutions, good health, poor health. Until that person who lived before is gone. Dead. Never to be remembered by anyone anymore.
And yet, here is the irony. The same young who care so little or feel no connection with a past that existed before they were born did, themselves, once, twice, maybe a thousand times, live as well back during those earlier periods in history.
Where did that young child get that sense of dance that they reveal so young. Ballet steps they were never taught. Their artistic or drawing skills. Their love of words, or fondness for math. No one in the family ever had an interest in math, or knew how to draw.
Where do these otherwise unexplainable childhood talents come from.
I believe there is a greater openness amongst adults these days that maybe we have lived before. That reincarnation exists. That is not of a surprise to me.
My curiosity is why we do not remember our past lives. Why we maybe even choose to ignore or intentionally to forget them. Those past lives are “our” memories. Our experiences. Lives we have lived – just in another time. A variation on our present physical form. With those we loved, and who loved us back – back then.
Lives lived full. Filled with moments we’ve shared with those we loved. Fought, sacrificed for those we loved. And who loved us in return. All forgotten.
But ~ they don’t need to be.