Deep contemplation…

 

I love museums. A source of education and wonder. Every time I have entered their hallowed walls I step back into time and it triggers something in me. I have studied many world cultures and been fascinated by each one. I explore the similarities and the differences, and the evolution of each culture, but moreover how they have influenced the shape of humanity and the world as a whole.

 

Have you ever felt a particular kinship towards one or the other? Like a past life regression? A knowing of that is where you belonged? I do.

 

I have explored these feelings and what they evolve deeply depending on the age of the civilization, and the type of culture. My recent trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art evoked these experiences significantly.

 

Ancient Egypt. I was there. Of this I have no doubt. It was more than my being a traveler of the ancient worlds and time, but a certainty of my presence. As I walked the halls of the Egyptian gallery I felt every part of me stand on end, as if I was transported back to that era. It was not familiarity but a feeling of home. I lived there, I died there. I have no feelings of malice or fear from this part of the world. As I saw the exhibits I felt as if I was in the marketplace observing the merchants with their products. I could see myself walking up towards the place where beautiful huge seated statues sat along the path on each side.

 

What was crazy, was that at the end of a hallway of a particular exhibit I turned around, looking back, I witnessed exactly what I had imagined that I had scene when I was there, in ancient times. I held back the tears of home. As I looked at the papyri on display, my brain could not read it, but my heart felt their meanings and interpretations, but not in words. Just a few centimeters behind the transparent glass protection, within a hands reach I felt the scribe writing and illustrating the works. It was my prior lifetime come to the present again.

 

With certainty I was not nobility as nothing of the articles of the wealthy resonated. I had a simpler life, as I knew I would walk across the market to purchase a loaf of bread with a smile. Yet I was not poor as a laborer as I walked with comfortable sandals. I was respected but not adored.

 

I sensed the stories told 1000s of years ago, now only survived by fragments of scrolls and tablets telling us of the daily habits, aspirations and inspirations of a great people, and an even greater time. I felt a sense of peace. I had a great life there. Opportunities of being a teacher and healer.

 

When we get whiff of an aroma of food that transports us back to our childhood, such as chicken soup when we were sick in bed or the taste of a morsel of food that reminds us of a delicious treat that our mom would make. Such is the power of our taste and smell that brings us back to the memories of the past. For me it is the sense of touch. When I place my hand on the ground/earth or a wall of a building in a room.

 

Such is the power of the heart. All lifetimes, in all forms, and in all times are all connected via an invisible ribbon that emanates and connects the hearts of each incarnation. It is when we become fully present with this cord, we can travel along those streams of consciousness, into the past and the future, for all timelines that have occurred , or will occur, are occurring simultaneously in this moment of now, for this is the only true measure of time.

 

Love. The ribbon of the heart.

 

…………

 

I love you