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My friend X

Truly, madly, deeply.

The Dead Woman
Pablo Neruda

...If you no longer live,
if you, beloved, my love,
if you have died,
all the leaves will fall in my breast,
it will rain on my soul night and day,
the snow will burn my heart,
I shall walk with frost and fire and death and snow,
my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping, but
I shall stay alive,
because above all things
you wanted me indomitable,
https://allpoetry.com/The-Dead-Woman
 
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Oh, dear. Frost and death and snow? Wanted me indomitable? *sigh* This part belongs in your Poland thread, I am afraid. Or should I say, Siberia.
 
Yes, BH you are right as usual. Frost and death and snow and indomitable grief and all that... It is a recurring pattern isn't it!

But it's more than that. This is not the first time this has happened. I know (hope) it won't be the last time I ever feel this way about X (although it's hard, very hard). But I would not change it for anything.

"My feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping... "

"Can't do anything except be in love with you..."
"I am stretched on your grave and I'll lie here forever...."
"
Don't tell me it's not worth dying for
I can't help it, there's nothing I want more...."

I think I'm feeling (again, as usual) that same old feeling. I am clinging to that last tiny thread of connection ... but it is not a weak thread. It is the strongest 'rope' of all which is, and always has been, good old fashioned love...

I feel X slipping away from me, in my conscious, day to day life. I am doing my best to 'let him go'. I've been getting out a bit more. I am trying to 'move along' with my life and my grief and get back into the 'swing of things' and just get on with it. I want to be happy and I am (sort of). But...

I will never let go of the end of that rope. It's not ever going to happen because I do not wish it so. I will 'keep my candle burning' in my window .. to light him on his way ... as long as it takes until we find each other again. It is a flame that is unlikely to blow out. I know he will be there next time. After all, I have seen it often enough. But, it's still difficult right at the moment. Just missing him day to day. It is a bit like an addiction. But I hope it's a good one; X and I. In any case, it is what it is.

Carmelita, hold my tighter...

 
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I've had a repeated vision of golden threads linking me to important people. Some fade into unknown places and times while others are clearly linked to incarnate friends ... even some I've never truly met or who may not know I exist. I wonder sometimes who they are, the ones I cannot see outside of time, even at an intuitive level. Are they the ones I miss constantly?

Watching you face the way this particular thread fades into the unknown while feeling the size and shape of the gap left in time, and what you miss about X, I'm grateful for your willingness to let that vulnerability show. Your awareness of the experience helps me understand the gaps that ache within. Of course we will share time with them again, at least it seems obvious based on what we've learned from our memories. The promise in your future glimpses is a gift, though the waiting is hard.

I hope, both now and when I return, to add fuel to the social and political transformations you hope to encourage in that life. From what you've said, you and X will be in the midst of significant transitions, and I think that your path (as you see it now) is one worth preparing for and supporting.

Given we are all connected somehow, though we don't always sense it in this life, it will be fascinating to discover what the two of you manage to form within the fabric of time. I'd like to think we conspired to encourage each other here in this forum as part of the alliance toward infusing healing into the fragmented shards of existence, both now and in the future.

What X brought out of you this time, simply by sharing time with you, has encouraged and inspired me; and I'm grateful to both of you for that gift.
 
Thanks MD. I was feeling upset again last night. It comes and goes. A new book has just been published about our little 'village' and all the 'village people'. I am in it. There is also a page or two about X. I wrote the words, at the request of the publishers. I hope I did him justice. They seemed pleased with it. I went to the little 'box opening' party last night when the first lot of books were delivered. I feel sad that he did not live to see it. He would have been delighted by it (and would have been at the party most likely).
 
Of course, you two are connected. Long ago, this life, and even now. That party must have been bitter-sweet, and you will always be at least a little sad. I hate that this has happened.

Just . . .

Guard against putting yourself in a metaphorical Siberia. Please. You have gone that route before.

This time, live for him. Live for yourself! Live for the others who you are connected to with threads that can be just as strong. If nothing else, it will give you lots to talk about when next you see him.
 
Thanks BH. I'm OK. Sometimes things get to me a bit, such as the other night. I'll be alright eventually I know.

When my much beloved father died it took me several years to come to terms with it properly. I'm still not entirely over it and still long for him. I suspect this will be similar. I still cry myself to sleep from time to time, but less than before, so that's an improvement. Grief takes its time.

Not long after my father died someone very wise advised me not to try to rush it, but to, in a way, savour it - feel it. Let it come. Let it be what it is. Great love leads to great sorrow. It is the way of things.

But, I'm a trooper. I'll get through it bye and bye. I always do.
 
I have lurked around this forum for a while now and just finished reading this beautiful story. I have believed and I have felt every word and I just had to respond. I am so sorry for your loss Tanguerra. Your X sounds like such a remarkable soul, as, most definitely are you, and losing him must be so painful. I applaud you for your genorosity in sharing your story.
 
Thanks. I just miss him. I'm alright (mostly). Staying up late when I should be sleeping ... but ...

He's missing it.

So many exciting things happening in the world and no X to share it with.

He would have really liked this.

 
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X's birthday again today (would have been). Twice now since he's been dead. Funny feeling. A bit better than last year, but still not easy.

Grief stricken all over again.
3am in the morning. Can't sleep. Weepy.
Upset and happy in a strange way.
Only love.

Light in my head
You in my arms.. woo hoo hoo (and so on)


Love. Only love.

I miss him but I know it's temporary. A very funny feeling. Eternity.

 
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I wrote this in the forum in 2009. It belongs here.
The meaning of life - fiziwig

"We hide our perfection from ourselves because that perfection is the very source of our boredom."


...To get back to the topic of 'the game' which Phoenix raised and some of Fiziwig's intial thoughts about these lives we have being for our amusement and perfection being boring...

I had a similar inkling once, while in a meditative state of what it is like 'on the other side' to be planning things out and deciding what 'game' I was going to play with my friend X in our next few incarnations. It was very vivid at the time and makes perfect logical sense to me when I look at the long picture of our history together 'on Earth'.


In the 'vision' we weren't people, we were pools of light. When I say we were 'sitting around' it's a figure of speech! :) Once we had decided what we were going to do, our pools of light turned into liquid like molten metal (he was silver and I was gold for some reason) and we sort of 'poured' ourselves downward through a 'hole' into the 'other' dimension below in order to begin the incarnation section of our 'game of dare' or whatever it is we are up to.

Indeed as Fiziwig says, I had a strong sense during this experience of the 'boredom of perfection'. Also, there was no way to settle our 'argument' except by actually going 'down' and doing it for ourselves - a bit like a scientist having to do an experiment to prove an hypothesis.

In that timeless state there is a certain longing to be 'doing' something - to be 'feeling something' even if what we feel is pain. Somehow, we don't take the 'pain' aspect of it all as seriously 'up there' as we do 'down here'. Somehow, we just can't really imagine it, or understand how truly unpleasant it will all be or else we just don't 'care' - partly because while in that state there is no 'suffering' - there is no 'care'. Partly because it is not perceived as 'real', just as we don't perceive our dreams (or nightmares) as 'real'. No matter what happens, we know we will wake up and we will not be harmed in any serious way.

There is a longing (or a curiosity?) for something to happen. To use a metaphor, it's a bit like how we long to be on holidays while at school, then as the summer holidays stretch on and on we begin to get tired of it and long to be back at school, to see our friends again to 'move along' to the next grade and so on.

If you have ever seen the film 'Wings of Desire' or the remake 'City of Angels' - which are about an angel who decides to become mortal because he wants to feel something 'real' (love, of course). It explores some of this notion of the desire to step outside of agelessness, painlessness, immortality and perfection and to step into time and experience - even though it entails suffering.
 
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In the 'vision' we weren't people, we were pools of light. When I say we were 'sitting around' it's a figure of speech! :) Once we had decided what we were going to do, our pools of light turned into liquid like molten metal
Your comment fits with my thoughts yesterday!

While relaxing last evening I recalled a forty-year-old dream I had during a particularly emotion-filled period of my life, one of those dreams that you know is important and full of meaning. The dream was presented as an explanation of “reality” in a right-brain manner. First a little background, this was three years after being “disabled” and had changed my accounting major to a dual major with psychology, I was volunteering at a Social Health Agency, trying to get my life together, trying to deal with my wife’s desire for me to leave her (advice she later said she got from an attorney), and having a woman (instructor of a class I was taking) profess love for me where I had no recollection of ever seeing or talking to her before – a pretty wild time (regrettably a time of my not being a good parent)!

Since it was a right-brain message, it was very hard to describe. It was a vision of different colors moving together in a slowly flowing motion as if it was a thick oil with colors ranging from light-yellow-green to a dark green that was almost black (And, I’m red-green color-blind!). As this fluid, or as you called it, liquid metal, slowly moved, there were eddy-currents and faster-moving areas. Some of the eddy-currents just seemed to continuously rotate in one place without moving in the direction that the rest of it was moving (which was to my left and a little downward, if that makes any difference) while others did join in the flow. The currents split and some circled-back around the bottom as the colors blended (bands narrowed) giving the appearance that there was an objective to experience everything. I could not make heads or tails of it at the time. The only person I shared it with at the time was a seminary student classmate who was also volunteering at the Agency.

I still do not understand the vision beyond recognizing that life has movement, although sometimes without progress, and that the mixing/blending, if it occurs at all, happens slowly. Perhaps the colors indicated “bright” and “dark” lifetimes, perhaps simply to represent “differences”, I don’t know.

It’s perplexing to get such small glimpses of things when we are searching for answers as I was at that time. It is also strange that it remains in my memory forty years later. I wonder if I am caught-up in that small eddy-current or moving more rapidly toward the “objective” – then again, what difference does it make?
 
Yes. Very much the same kind of thing. But X was silver and I was gold and it all made perfect sense at the time. I know what you mean.
 
Thank you for sharing this, tanguerra. I am much interested and find it fascinating how people recognize each other throughout the different lives. Therefore I would be pleased if you would share the memories from the different lives where you were connected with X. Were it always close relations (family, lovers, friends), or do you also remember lives where you came together briefly, or on a more common basis (like a relation between shopkeeper and regular customer or so)?


Eevee
Hello Eevee,
Do you have any such experience?.
I know someone she saw at an airport in Germany and met him in real life in New York
Cheers
M
 
Hello tanguerra, I was very touched by your story. I've never met the soul that's burned into mine - I'm glad you got to share that love, even briefly in this life. It's worth the sadness. I'm wondering how common the silver/gold theme is- I too have seen this, though almost in a literal sense.
 
I had dreams of a woman as a child and young adult. Those dreams stopped in 2000. In 2010 I met the woman from my dreams, she was walking the same way and wore the same dress as in my dreams. She said she had dreams of me and I described what I looked like in her dreams and how she wore her hair at school. We both perceived each other to be emanating light. Also, she got married in 2000, the year my dreams had stopped. I found out later that she was my fiance in my past life, which probably explains why I was so incensed at not being able to marry her in my current life. Reincarnation and love is very intense. I have no doubt you will see X again tanguerra.
 
I feel the same way about someone who died 72 years ago but I cry because of a feeling I get when I see pics of her. The person is Anne Frank. She died at about my current age. I can't explain it, nor do I want to. I think I'm Reincarnated from Peter van Pels, her boyfriend during the Holocaust.
 
I feel the same way about someone who died 72 years ago but I cry because of a feeling I get when I see pics of her. The person is Anne Frank. She died at about my current age. I can't explain it, nor do I want to. I think I'm Reincarnated from Peter van Pels, her boyfriend during the Holocaust.
Anne reincarnated again and wrote a book about it.
 
I miss my wife from my past life. I’m speaking of my Third Reich one, the one I know in detail. Her name’s Mel. It’s been 33 years.
 
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