What Do You Remember?

The fragrances of ancient memories
that you see in your dreams

We never forget, not really.
We bring it all with us, always, all the lifetimes we’ve lived, all the talents, all the memories, the definitions and assumptions and expectations we’ve developed. The emotions we felt. The beliefs we held. They languish and lurk, deep within our souls and our bodies. because our bodies express in manifested energy who we are in potential energy.

When we travel we take with us everything we expect to need. In the same way, every time we start a new incarnation, those impressions and memories, emotions and beliefs are the baggage our soul and our body bring, to show us the ways in which we have become exquisitely skilled, and the ways in which we choose to learn, this time, to be more than we used to be, by growing past our former limiting beliefs that we brought with us.

Sometimes we now live the expressions of those beliefs, those definitions, those expectations — openly, clearly, being a musician or a healer or a carpenter at last.

Sometimes we love now a color, a texture, a feeling, not knowing that it has brought with it the ancient fragrance of memory, something learned long agg. Something loved or feared in the used-to0be, that came with us now to help us be loving or fearful and thus strengthen, by choice, the kind of person we want to be.

We are everything we have ever been, even if we don’t remember. And that brilliant, massive store of experiences and wisdom comes with us to help us become more than we have ever been, everything we want to be this time.

The expanding Me. In the expanding Universe. Ancient. Forever new.

A goddess? My sister? Me? I see the shining beauty of the bronze skin, the dark dark eyes…

Grandmother is so elegant, so fierce. She taught me to laugh, and choose wisely.

After birdsong, and the voice of my beloved, this slow, soft, scruffy rhythmic sound of the Buddhist monk’s twig broom is my favorite sound on Earth. Am I remembering something, some time?

I remember the smell of the stone, the stony silent smell. As I walk away after prayer, the wind whips the skin on the back of my neck, in this land that grows stones. Why do I know that County Sligo in Ireland grows stones?

He meditates with me every day, my friend Heron. Or do I dream this?

Why did I become a geologist? Or an archaeologist? A painter? A gardener? A real estate agent? A reader of science fiction?

Feeling most free, I dream of my horses, and we ride in love and endlessness together.

Why was it so easy in this incarnation for me to learn the Japanese language, to enfold myself into Japanese culture, to keep it all interwoven in my life long, long after I changed my life from Japanese to American?

The disciplined silence. The ancient fragrance of the oakwood pews. The feel of the marble floors under my sandals. The faint, persistent aroma of frankincense and myrrh that I can quickly bring to memory… The silence…

Do I befriend the stranger? Do I teach him? Do I play with him? Yes. The better path is always kindness.

Why do I insist on hoping to be excellent? Did I achieve that, in some ways once upon a time? Am I looking to bring in those threads again, into the fabric of my life this time? Will I succeed? Do I remember that I, and I alone, am the one who chooses how I am to be?

While some people are drawn to a spare, smooth, linear look, I hum in my mind every time I see the dancing beauty of the mosaic, the intricate, the small repetitive movements…

Home. I belong somewhere… Where? Not here? Someplace blue and bright? Home… where are you?

Small sailing prayers twirling to the touch of my hand, leaping into the chill morning air, flying up into the cosmos — whisper my wish to the ear of Creation. I hear the wood prayer whells turning on wood spindles, clunkety clunk. Do I remember this? Is this why now I always run my hand along symmetrical fences and arranged stones and the bricks of buildings? Is my soul sending silent prayers into the air, for me?

Maybe you are happiest when you are barefoot. Could this be because you are remembering those incarnations when you grew spiritually, emotionally? And now when you are barefoot you feel calm and contented, connected to Earth. You know you belong in your life… Hmmm…

Do you feel most expansive, most comforted, most humming in your heart, in a place like this? Do you feel the beautiful, nourishing embrace of the ocean around your mind? Do you know your soul remembers that, once upon an incarnation, you discovered endlessness in blue? And you are still enchanted…

I must remember that I am always so much more than I remember I am. I have more knowings inside me than I can explain. I have more help outside there than I can see. I can be what I dream of being! I can choose to be a person I would love to love. I can choose to be the most shining being I can imagine. I can be my dream of who I am. I can live my dream of me. I can! I will! I am!

I can do it. I can be it. I can fly.