Perspective

Unless you have experienced something, it is hard to really believe it. At least that is my opinion when it comes to reincarnation.

I think we all get glimpses but they don't register in our minds.

An example might be the time my husband and I were visiting the wharf in San Francisco a few years ago. There was a three-mast ship one could board. We went on deck and were looking around. Then we went below to the hold, where the ceilings were very low and lumber had been transported. I looked around and noticed that my husband had turned a lovely shade of pale green. He seemed to be in a state of shock. I took his arm and walked him off the ship. There had been no motion on board but I am sure he recognized something that was impinging on his present world. It explained why he dislikes boats of any kind, big or small. It also explains why we don't live near water.

The first time I had a dream that didn't fit my world was in the '60's. In the dream, I was a little girl and found myself at a grow-up party. That was only because my mother was working there. I was wearing my pretty pink dress with white shoes and pink stocking. I went to find my mother who turned out to be a beautiful Black Lady. I looked down at my arms and legs and I was black too. Was it a dream or a memory?

I remember working in an English castle. My job was to clean the floors and put fresh straw down, to close the shutters as it starts to cool in the evening and start the fires in the fireplaces. My husband worked there also. He was the falconer.

Are these just dreams? I thought so until I re-experienced my death in 1922, where I was repairing a bridge. I wrote about this in one of my blogs.

How about the time that I was teaching a class and a student came in and sat down. My mind remembered her. In my mind she held me while I died; I don't remember the year on this. She had a long velvet dress/coat and a hat/bonnet on. She came out into the roadway where I, as a small child, had just been run down by a team of horses. She picked me up and held me as I looked into that beautiful face and died.

I have remembered giving birth near a Chinese rice patty, and being a huge black man working a forge in the old west and being a medicine man with a small tribe of Native Americans.

My question is: if we have lived so many lives in so many places; if we have belonged to every religion in the world; if we have been a member of every race how can we now be prejudice toward anyone?