The gift of this journey

the male fresco
the male fresco

“Actually I don’t remember being born, it must have happened during one of my black outs.”

― Jim Morrison

We were practising age regression in our hypnotherapy class, it was quite interesting. Many of our batch mates went into foetal stages.

Then came a watsap message that was a conversation between two foetuses about life after birth or life out of the womb.

That brought me to the question, why don’t we remember?

One of the seekers that I met said, that there is gift not remember who we are when we are born into this lifetime; the gift is the journey.  

There was this bodiless moment, just before anaesthesia, another time when I was totally lost in the rhythm of the rustling leaves, I wondered if this was the same. The feeling of being incredibly light and unrestricted in our movement. The experience of being one with great expanse?  Is that the time before we incarnated into a human body?

There could be many possible reasons for deep forgetting, maybe if we did remember it would impinge on our ability to fully commit ourselves to this life.  may be being here without any memory of an alternate experience allows to be here completely such that we can learn what we are here to learn. Wonder if this preoccupation with concerns beyond the realm of this lifetime is really meant be? May be our job is to occupy our bodies and our planet with a fullness that would not be possible if we were constantly aware of another and extremely different realm of existence.

Maybe forgetting other levels of being protects us from a confused and divided experience.  Maybe there is no alternate experience at all.

“After all, what’s a life, anyway? We’re born, we live a little while, we die.”
― E.B. WhiteCharlotte’s Web

4 Replies to “The gift of this journey”

  1. Hi Parwatisingari!
    It’s such a delight to read your words and feel it all making sense up in my head. What a wonderful explanation and insight. This profound thought in your blog has enthused me in many ways that pages can’t hold. Good that we are all blessed with what we have to remember and what not. Everything is His Play!

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