Today, a photo popped up, shared by a friend on Facebook that ignited a cascade of past life memories, which I mentioned were “bittersweet”.
Islands rising from the sea
According to Wikipedia, the current island of Santorini, Greece, was formed by the collapse of the caldera into the Aegean Sea around 1610 BCE, also known as the Minoan eruption. These eruptions continued we into the modern era, the most recent of which was from January 10th to February 2nd of 1950. Although it is considered to be dormant, it is still an active volcano, though most of the activity is submarine (occurring beneath the sea level).
Past Lives or not
Let me start by saying that I use the term, past lives, as a kind of placeholder for a common experience that depends on our current interpretation of what it means to use in linear time. That is to say, there really is no past, nor do we die, but in the context of an individual human being’s viewpoint, we can have experiences of living in times other that the current one.
From that vantage point, I will try to relate to you, dear reader, a few of those many “lifetimes” that I remember from a time before this one, which I use the shortcut term of past lives.
Before Common Era (BCE)
Once upon a time, so long ago that there’s not written history to refer to, I lived on the side of a mountain surrounded by a seemingly vast sea. The term, BCE, refers to a dating of time before we started numbering (almost arbitrarily) at “zero” with the birth of the historical Jesus of Nazareth.
That mountain was a volcano, though since we had no concept of such a thing, it would have no real meaning to us at that time. We were some of the first seafaring societies, so by that standard, we were explorers and pioneers. Today, you refer to us as the Minoans, though that is not what we called ourselves. The explosion that created the Santorini islands completely devastated everything and everyone in the general area, though there were obviously survivors. In my memories of this past life, I survived long enough to see the near-total destruction of what I called home and those I loved.
First Past Life Remembrance
The first time I was hypnotized to remember a past life, it was an interesting experience to say the least. I had reservations about what past lives even were, though I had been reading The Seth Material for a while by then. I was stationed in Colorado for my Air Force technical training during the late 80s and came across the ad in the local paper. As I don’t believe in coincidences, it was definitely one of those times when spirit led me to what I needed to hear in that moment.
I was asked to remember my first lifetime, which was in ancient Greece. In this memory, I was born both blind and deaf, though I would now challenge that from what I know of the culture. It was a short life and I jumped from a cliff near Athens at a young age. It was a voluntary act that would now be called suicide, but at that time, it was more of a self-sacrifice to the gods. More than that, I can only say that it was not my first lifetime, but rather my first act of sacrifice for the good.
Another bittersweet memory
As seafarers, return of loved ones was always cause for huge celebrations, since you never knew if those who left would ever return. Enough was known of the Mediterranean Sea to understand that it was a dangerous place to venture into. Families would gather as they launched to wish them well, but it was the returns that were so celebrated. We, in modern society, can’t really comprehend how much courage it took to venture out in wooden boats for other known ports, let alone out passed the mouth of the sea into what we call the Atlantic ocean.
In this memory, I was the young, pregnant wife of one of the sailors. There was no real rank involved like you might imagine today, the village owned the boats and most of the men would go out in search of goods, services and adventure. There was some expectation of how long one of these journeys would take, but it was usually months, sometimes years, before these boats would return. From the vantage point far above the water, you could see the boats returning and would have plenty of time to prepare a feast. By the time they entered the port, you would count the number of boats returning (they usually traveled in groups of 6-10). This time, it had been too long since I had seen my husband, our child was standing beside me as we watched the boats return. The small number told us from first sighting that most of the boats had been lost and grief was already palpable.
Imagine waiting, literally years, for your loved one to return from a voyage only to discover that they haven’t. While celebrating the return of those who did, most of whom you knew, but grief-stricken with the knowledge that your husband would never return. The life of such a widow was usually doubly difficult; you might lose your home, since it belonged not to you, but your now-dead husband, and, you would have to quickly remarry to survive. My memory of this was to be forced into servitude, both myself and my child.
More memories about other “past lives” will be shared, but these were the ones that came to mind when prompted by the original Facebook post. I’d love to hear what others have to say…about my memories or your own!
© 2017 DeBrady.biz
Note: images collected from various Wikipedia posts under Creative Commons