The Journey

I thought that when this was all over I would meditate, and through memories I was going to relive Charles’s entire life. After all. The parts that I remembered were very interesting. But standing at his grave that day I was suddenly struck with the realization that I was one of the people buried there, and it almost tore me apart. You see, I could still feel his passions. I could feel his joys, his pain, the happiness and the sadness that he felt. His anticipations, dreams, and all of the emotions that one experiences in life, including his love of life. I felt all of this, not as a memory, but as if it was current, not something from the distant past, but emotions and feelings that were real to me at that moment. I couldn’t accept the fact that his life had ended and he was dead and buried there where I stood because to me, we were one, and I was not dead. I was still alive. I felt that I had come face to face with my own physical mortality, and that was the problem. I was thinking of everything in a physical sense and that was all wrong. Charles and I were never the same physical person. That would have been impossible because we lived in a completely different time and place. But we were the same spiritually, and that’s a totally different matter. I Believe there are reasons why we can’t remember previous lives.