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A japanese boy

rynen

rynen

Senior Registered
Everyone,

I wish to tell about something I have a distinct feeling is a past life. It is a dream i had two or three times while beeing a kid.

I think I am a girl .But I am wrong. Even with long flowing dark straight (somehow I notice this because my hair is usually curly) hair I am a boy of about 13 or 14. My brothers and me are running down a long corridor with large walls but not hight ceilings. At the end of it we stop. A door is a little bit open . And light is to be seen.We have to be careful since before the doorway are lots of furnitures. It seems as if there is no order for the furnitures. So I and 3 or 4 other surrounding me (brothers)- in fact i only know i am one of the elder children, either the eldest or the secong eldest.There in this big room who looks more like a library. on the right side are lots and lots of books written in a language I can t identify-too far away, but it could be Chinese...On the left is a man standing on a elevated something, and is talking to a gathering group of men who are listening attentively.The man has long greyish hair, slanted dark eyes and some chin beard ( it s really thin and only on the chin so you cant call it a beard ). And he looks some kind of scholar. When I look at him I immediately know and feel this is my father. The men and my father are all wearing clothes which are very wide and full of different colours. i know father is also a merchant. a merchant and a scholar.

Then I see myself running in the garden. Here too I mistook myself at the beginning for a girl because i was wearing wide clothes,and too me it looked like a dress. But it was not. Just fashion for men. i hide behing a tree and i take out a knife i had stolen from the kitchen.i look around afraid someone might look. And with my left hand i take all the hair and with my right hand i am holding the knife reading to cut the hair at the base of the neck. But at the same time a hand suddenly is holding back my right wrist where the knife is. I turn round and am face to face with a young warrior in full equipment,so it seems to me. He is 17 and i know he is the one my father was waiting for. If I remember corrrectly he is a noble s son. He is bending down to me while holding my wrist since he is a good one head and a half taller than me. He has long black hair in a high ponitail till the middle of his back. Something what looks like a sword-a bit differrently. and a kind of armor protecting part of the legs and the arms and kind of boots. His face is tanned from the sun and he has slanted eyes, too. His name is Chiaki. I know because my afther will present him to our family. And while bending down he says in a voice which seems sad but also angry: " DON T CUT YOUR HAIR!!!" He is not shouting , just saying it forcefully and at this moment i notice that he is warrior and all of his hair is up in a ponytail while mine is unbound and flows freely down my back. Then i understand what he means, i can t cut my hair. I will become a warrior too soon since i have almost reached adulthood and then the symbol of it is the more or less long hair in a high ponytail.I don t know why i know this. I just know.

The rest is just a rush: me getting older, as warrior: but always by my side the two most important people for me: father and Chiaki. i ti s a very strong and warm feeling; beeing home: first with father, he was the first two give me this feeling, than Chiaki.
The another picture of an upset Chiaki and then we as lovers.But strangely being a warrior but still having him by my side is also feeling home, the home I don t want ever to leave again.

Here everything ends, just the fleeing vision of something drastic happening and somehow the death of Chiaki:this i can t see, because it s too blurry, too fast. i just feel his death. Then nothing.Blackness.
I often dreamt it as kid, but also it started again some 8 years again,well now.

Only so many words to say the dream came back more forcefully.
It started 2 years ago again.Since then i am dead inside. i am totally indifferent to so many things, like seing no point in life. But strangely the only thing which keeps me going on ,l ike a pushing : is some overwhelming more than wish, longing to find father and Chiaki again. i love my friends, my family, but the feelings I am holding for father and Chiaki is so much more intense :it IS TRULY HOME! What makes me afraid is that if in order to see them again i had to give up something important,say family, i would sadly but they are so much important!!!
I just can t feel like this! My family is here in 21 century , how come the intense feeling i held for them is nothing compared to what father and Chiaki are meaning to me. It s like call a pull to go to Japan. I like this country, never been there, but it s like a call!! A very strong one. i thought such dreams , or past life are supposed to be just to remember , not possibly to meet again.
 
Hi Rynen, and welcome !


Your dream is very impressive ! But what makes you think you should go to Japan to 'meet again' with father and Chiaki? After all, if you reincarnated elsewhere, sho might they. If they are part of your soulgroup, they might live near you if they reincarnated again at this same time as you. Or if they didn't, maybe one of them is your Spirit Guide now. Lots of possibilities....
 
Rynen-

Somehow I think I knew Chiaki. I want to say he lived in the Kamakura Era, but I'm not sure...the outfit you mentioned would fit. One question though-- do you think Chiaki died in a huge battle that happened during a horrible storm?

I can't help but think that I knew him, that he was one of my comrades when we defended Japan against the Mongol Invasions in 1274 and 1281...

--N.
 
a japanese boy

My sons are 24 years old and 14 years old. They are both fascinated by the Japanese. They both love Anime' and all kinds of Japanese art, modern and ancient. They both can explain the art of Japanese sword fighting, explaining in great detail of how swords were made and what they were called. They both can explain in great detail things about Japanese history, art, and culture from past and present that they could not possibly know without a large source of information, which they haven't had. My oldest son will kind of talk about pl memories, but my youngest son won't even hear of the subject. He deletes all my emails from the forum, and adamantly refuses to speak of the subject. I think that he is running from some kind of memory like I did for so many years. But I must encourage him to talk to me, and not push him. He seems to be very well adjusted and happy, so I wait and listen. I feel it will be amazing when he finally decides to open up! He is very wise and very intelligent to only be 14, so I am very interested to hear where he has been somewhere in time.
 
Rynen--

Here is what I see of the death of the man I believe is Chiaki: wind, waves, ships moving very fast, we Japanese trying to board a Mongol vessel, but the wind throwing us back. I try to reach out to one man-- someone I know well...but he's blown away from me and vanishes.

I don't know if that makes any sense, but let me know.

-N.
 
Last part

thanks for all your replies!! Yet to NOBUTADA:

how did you know about Chiaki? IT is a connection or a feeling?

It could have been the period you are telling about. The Edo period and afterwards feels just wrong to me (concerning the feeling in the dream).
The cloth looks a lot like in my dream ( the shape): very wide, especially for the arms.
The dream got futher and more detailed, but only a little. We lived or had a connection with the northern part of Japan ( either the north of Honshu or Hokkaido). This but a feeling.Nothing more precise.

Therefore the waves. Perhapst we boarded a ship and it happened as you said ( don' t know if I was aboard or not if there is a string about the Mongol attack). If Chiaki was aboard it is not there on the water where he died.
the connection to the wind is for the battle: gusty wind, becoming more and more nasty, making it sometimes diffcult to breathe and yet to concentrate on the task at hand. This was Chiaki's last battle ... and mine. What struck me was that Chiaki looked serious, like dead serious and frowning. I guess that was just normal because of the danger.

The last image : fighting. He was not so far away where I was moving. Trying as much as possible to break through on the mass around me.
Then, from then on everything in slow motion. I'll say it: it sounds real cheesy ( that' s why I let this part out on the first post- but it belongs to the memory as a whole).

I looked round at saw just a man slashing and Chiaki falling. In my head the question: How is it possible- he was well known for beeing very quick and agile, seeing the adversary's movement before it came. And the fighting style he learned was also peculiar. All this making him not easy to be swayed. He was better than me . Yet it was he who fell. Now only can I see that he was a human beeing . But at that moment I could only stare. While on the ground he tried to stand up, staggered , and kept fighting. Then he fell agian and did not stand up again. i thought it was kind of ironic from the heavens that shortly after that everything was over.

No more fighting. i don't recall who won because the memory is mainly focused on this happening , not politics, comrades or other. then I felt my body again, I had been this whole time in a trance like state , fighting more like on instinct, not guided but the head. i was quite lucky to having been then only lightly wounded on the left arm.

I rushed to him. Knelt down.His face alive but in very much pain: hair and face matted with what looks like dirt,sweat and blood( some of it dried). This part is like having a zoom on it. then the slowmotion ends. I walk away ,coming back and forth, like I lost my internal balance. Then someone coming up to me to tell me that Chiaki lay there. But at those words I feel how all the blood had gone to my head, I feel lightheaded. And marched to Chiaki . Some feet from him away I tell the man who had spoken to me (about telling my father something,dont remember what and giving him something to give father) .

Then without thinking any further I take my sword ,kneel down and I feel metal and something cold and hot at the same time throught the upper part of my belly.Just once , a clean stab : it has gone all through the body.Then pushing it out . Me going forward more like some kind of animal.It feels like a wild beast let loose inside of me and the pain is really great. Wild animal because it was crawling . One body in the way. Then reaching Chiaki. With my good hand caressing his left cheek. And letting my head rest on his body feeling his heartbeat.I am now too tired, tired to lift even a limb. He lives but for how long. and me wondering why it has to be that way. My right hand is taken into a cold one, squeezed very tightly. Then words are said ,whispered as in a forced ragged voice.

But I can t make out was Chiaki is saying. His grip is very loose now. i can hear no hearbeat anymore. Since my head is on his chest facing on the left side, i look up .The pain is numb now. My sight is blurry.My right hand falling to the side letting go of Chiakis hand. Head feels heavy and thinking also.
Last is the feeling of a pull. Least I see two bodies on the ground .I feel something around me, arms. Turn .next to me Chiaki. He is glowing . Don t know if I am ,too or not. He looks the same only I cannot see myself in his eyes anymore. No reflection there. yet not dead looking. I feels our hand intertwined then I am beeing taken in a whirlwind. And then nothing.

as a 5 years old this last part made me very anxious. For 2 years I was afraid to die, even a natural death. afterwards i accepted it as natural part of life.

i agree I should have let the details aside it's still too long to read and not really interesting , especially death.

:eek: if anyone still want to give some inside or just talk, let me know!!!

Rynen
 
Rynen--

I have to look closely at your message to get the best feel of what you're describing, but for now I can tell you that this is an incredible coincidence-- today is the anniversary of the HUGE wind that blew the Mongols away...

(and it's also my birthday :) )

At any rate, the best warriors in Japan in those days came from the north-- that's where the backbone of the samurai tradition (as we know it today) comes from. I also feel a deep connection to northern Japan, and will be going there next month.

Will respond ASAP.

-N.
 
Rynen-

The battle against the Mongols was on the land and the sea, since some of them actually did make it ashore. And the wind was incredibly horrendous, indeed....The Mongols were very good spearmen, and were particularly brutal in their use of the weapon. Also almost better archers than we were....almost. Japanese had better range, I think.

At any rate, what you're saying fits. It was horrendous, and it felt like my armor weighed a ton....and then as now, I knew just how easily the thread of life can snap. As a warrior, I say wholeheartedly that it's a shame that we spend so much time in war...

-N.
 
Rynen-

What I feel with Chiaki is a brief moment of glancing back at someone who I think is him, in the middle of a battle, and knowing I can rely on him-- and/or that he's seen all the pain and death that I've seen and understands...

-N.
 
About your story

Nobutada,

what is the story of yours? Do you remenber one past life or more? Have you known for long and with confidence?

RYE :thumbsup:
 
I've had many memories of several lives, and I'm sure of most of them-- including the one where I fought the Mongols. Most of them have been in Japan, and the rest in Armenia. For nearly all of my lives I've been a warrior, and for all except one or two lives, I've been male. It's only now that I've come to the point where I'm going to make an effort to not live in war in this life.

Did you specifically want to know more about my life in the 13th century fighting the Mongols, though? I don't remember a great deal yet, but I know a few things.

-N.
 
Remembrance, sweet remembrance...

:tongue: I am very curious about your life in 13th century. Even small details.

If you woudn 't mind sharing about some other lives you remember more about I would be glad!!! May they have been be in Japan or Armenia.

Rye
 
Memories

I'll go with the 13th century one first.

I don't know what clan I served, but it might have been Shimazu of Satsuma-- the story of their action at the battle and their building of the defensive wall at Hakata bay seems familiar to me somehow. In terms of clothing, the outfit here seems the most familiar and comfortable-- it's the outfit that sumo referees wear now. Back then it was "normal" clothing for a samurai not in the battlefield. However, as far as battle armor goes, I'd say that this looks the most familiar.

When we were at the battle sites, before actually engaging the Mongols, I think I prayed and chanted a lot, trying to get some sort of mental and spiritual calm before going into the fight.

I don't know if I survived, though. I might have drowned in the storm where the Mongols were blown away, but I'm not sure. Japanese armor of that era can get very heavy when wet, especially since it was mostly made of leather and other things of the sort.

Shooting a lot of arrows from horseback also seems familiar-- the Mongols were doing it too, but I was trying to do it in my own way, with the Japanese bow, which I believe has greater distance, though the Mongol bow has greater power over shorter distances.

I think we also drank a lot of alcohol, or whatever we could get our hands on-- we figured that if we were going to die, we were going to enjoy ourselves.

Also, letting down my hair seems familiar, too-- letting it down without tying it, and if you watch Japanese history movies, you'll see that samurai in those years had their hair down when they wore their helmets.

Washing briskly with parts of the armor still on and weapons close at hand is also familiar.

I'll pause here, for the time being. Anything sound familiar?

-N.
 
reminders

I relooked the clothes of that time and I understand now part of what seemed to me before as nonsense. When I looked at my father through a creak of the door he was talking to some people. But on his head I saw a hat I thought in my dreams to be quite as tall as a bowler hat of the 19th century worn by European, in America ... But otherwise it looked totally different and it struck me as beeing black. The hat of the Japanese of this time looks awfally familiar.

The other thing that rings a bell is shooting arrows- but here really vaguely.
What is more insistant is a name I hear for two nights now over and over in my head : the name Akiyama. And that while looking (still in my dream) at my own sword.( i am looking at my distant cousin's Japanese swords and then a vision appears of a sword I know it to be my own (the description can be looked under dreams :"A game of weapons"). But I know litttle of any of my distant cousins and no one has Japanese swords. So when I looked at the sword the word" Akiyama" was repeated in my head and another one was just said once "Akimiya". First felt like my own name and also like a place .

Do you have any idea if it could be a place, because it can be as well a first name as a last name.

( the rest of the dream is probably more symbolic). Here familiar is to have my sword ( wrapped and all and with a kind of amulett at the end of it) close by ( again the feeling of home combined with it ). The last picture I noticed is me sitting against a tree, resting , I am holding in one hand my wrapped up sword and it is resting against my forehead.

As for samourai movies I watched some but they all seemed to have shaved part of the front hair ( looks almost bald) but not the side hair or the back of it. Was this just for a period because I am sure that other's or myself didn't shave part of our hair. Just wondering! :D

The two things I yearned to learn since I was little was to take lessons in were sword fighting (people often shaked their head at that: "strange kid"- well dangerous true, but the technique is to learn for oneself ) and shooting arrows ( tried once in a youth camp in Austria- problem was i had the impression the bow was way too small- in my opinion then it had to be at least twice as tall and the whole approach we got to it felt out of place for me). But honestly what the person teached us was how to shoot an arrow as good as a kid of 8 can do. I did badly. I didn't and guess still don' t know why i reacted that way . Then I lost interested in "that kind of shooting" (somehow I still want to do it but the only word comind in my mind is "properly") . But found myself acting too childish: arrow shooting is arrow shooting after all ,not matter with which kind of bow you learn it or who is teaching you, right?!

do you have some remembrance of your family or relatives?
 
Not everyone shaved their heads-- in fact, some people didn't shave their heads when they were in a war for a long time.

Also, about the name-- some people took the name of the place where they lived as a family name. So, if you lived in a place called Akiyama (Autumn Mountain), you might be known as "Akiyama no ------" -- "------ of Akiyama."

Western archery is NOTHING like Japanese archery-- it feels wrong to me, too. Japanese archery uses a HUGE bow and very long arrows....and you draw the string to behind your ear. I did a year of Western archery and it felt all wrong...but the more I read about Japanese archery, the more right it feels.

Here is a picture of a man in Japanese armor holding a bow:
https://images.search.yahoo.com/yhs...7ebd376477a66b5c4b765f7d29ea.jpg&action=click

I can't remember much about my family so far, but I think that I came from a place where I was part of a large family that was very supporting and deeply rooted in tradition-- archery, writing, poetry, music, and so on. Oh wait...I think this was the life where my mother kind of looked like an actress from a Japanese history show I was watching years ago-- often dressed in dark, forest-colored kimono, and with long, dark hair with thin streaks of gray. And silently smiling to herself :)

-N.
 
https://weaponsandwarfare.com/2015/08/26/battle-of-hakata-bay/ A picture of the Mongols finishing off Japanese victims at Hakata.

http://www.artic.edu/aic/collections/artwork/34443/print A painting of Hojo Tokimune, the ruler of the country and the commander of the Japanese forces. He was the one who refused to submit to the Mongols, and he was the one who single-handedly rallied the country's warriors to action. Even though he was a teenager, he did it all...and I'm very, very proud of him.

-N.
 
I tried to look for the names but nothing serious. I found Akiyama to be a village of Central Honshu ,originally a name from the ryukyu islands. Here I am wondering since I felt to having lived in the Northern part of Japan...
As for Akimiya the only thing I could come up with was that miya seems to mean prince like seito-miya for example (prince seito) . So I am wondering if Akimiya is a name after all?! Who knows...
Nice to have at least a glimpse of your mother!!! What bothered me when I had this dream was to be focused on my father , never on my mother and little on my brothers. I just felt the presence of her in the house.

I looked at the pictures : the bow seems tall enough to me ( always picture of a bow taller than a man).
First time introduced to a bow was at 5 when my father and grandfather showed me how to use a good enough sort of branch which would bend but not break. Then with a knife curve the end of the branch in order to fix there the ends of a string. The string itself was made of a thick material so arrow shooting was ok but it could not go very far (it could hurt people after all). : ;) . Very basic but easy enough for a little child.
It would be interesting to remember part of the learning I got when I was 13 and not yet a qualified warrior.
Do you know at which age men became recognized as warrior ( was there a difference in war time and peace time?)?

So where exactly is your trip going to in Japan? Did you chose randomly or certain places for special reasons?
Do you also think that people who were close to you can be reincarnated in a same life as you again , and not always close to you? (For example imagining that your father could be in Japan while you are living a life in America or Europe?)
Have a very happy journey!!!!!!!! (have you been to Japan before? Are you going there for a long time?)
: angel : angel : angel Too crurious for my own good!!! :laugh:
 
small message

Making so many spelling mistakes, over and over again. Not used enough to typing on a computer keyboard!!!Argh!!! Well sorry !!!!
 
Rynen-

I'm going to northern Japan in a few days. It's because of school, but northern Japan is also where a lot of events happened concerning my last life as a samurai (1860s) and my life as a fighter pilot (ended in 1945). I'll be living in Sendai, my hometown from the World War 2 era, and I'll be seeing places like Aizu, where I fought.

As far as Akiyama goes, you probably were from northern Japan. Most of the talented warriors of that era came from either the far north or the far south. The samurai as we know them, after all, originated in the Kanto region-- the area now around Tokyo and further north.

I think that many of my close relations are close again now, but some are indeed distant. My sister from my life in the late 1100s is now in Europe, and my sister-in-law from the 1630s and 1860s is on the other side of the state I live in. In both cases I keep in contact via internet.

Warriors in wartime usually (by the 1500s, so probably in the 1200s, too) led their first patrol at age 12 or 13, and became legal adults at 15. In peacetime they of course didn't go to war, and came of age around 15 or 16. The ceremony in question is called "Genpuku."

I'll be sure to make the most of my time in Japan. :)

-N.
 
a Small child's point of view

Before going to bed last night I saw myself as a 4 years old Japanese boy. Straight black hair, in a bowl cut, front hair almost hanging in my eyes. I wear shorts and I am playing with a ball which I throw in the air and try to catch it again. To see the motion of the ball overjoyes me and fascinated me

This morning I could only remember about this night's dream: a ball. Nothing else.
Then, while eating breakfast, I was again this 4 years old boy. I saw myself walking on a sidewalk. I am walking inbetween my mom and dad. I am holding my father's left hand and my mother's right hand. I had forgotten how everything looks so tall from a small child point of view! Most times I can only see the legs of the people walking. I have to look up, almost cran my neck to be able to see their faces.
We are walking on the pavement of an important street where many cars are driving and cars are parked on the side. I can make out some kanji signs, some of them I know. Others I don't know. It seems to have been the beginning of the 70s or end of the 60s. And it felt like an important town in Japan, important enough to have high skycrapers. While we are walking I look up to see the scyscrapers like i used to do everytime we went out. But it might not have been Tokyo since it felt too big a town to fit.

Sorry if you can't get the picture but the emotions I have then and descriptions are that of a child. And somehow difficult to put in words, difficult to say how exactly I felt because they seem to picture them not to the point.

At some point my mother buys me a ball the size of a soccer ball. And I start to play with it like in the first vision I had. Grab the ball,throw it in the air and catch it. It's so much fun. I can only focus on the ball. Mom or dad is nearby. The other one went into a shop. We are waiting outside. Suddenly I can't catch the ball. It slips past my hands and rolls away. I'm angry at it for not doing as I want it to, that is to fall back into my hands. So I ran after it. It rolls slowly to the street. I hurry . I want to play. The ball comes to a halt near one of the cars parked on a side of the street. Without much thought I run to the ball, bend down to get a hold on it. At least I have my ball back.

Screams. I turn my face to the left. I just have the time to see a huge car. No fear. There was no time for it. Warm.
Faint voices whispering in the background. The warm entirely engulfing me. And there is nothing anymore.

Somehow I do not feel sad upon experiencing this. I felt joy, so much joy to play with my ball. And yes frustation to not always have been able to catch it correctly. Well angry too. But my parents were there so everything was OK. And it's allright to have died there too because I don't remember pain only the warmth. And I also remember my mother's hand rubbling through my hair calling me a good boy, saying my name. It's difficult to remember it. One syllabe has "ya" in its pronouciation.
 
Interesting memory Rynen. Experiencing it from a child's point of view seems unique, and yes, something that adults forget about or don't consider. I like that in spite of all the detail, your focus remained on the ball, which would have been very important to a 4 year old. Thanks for sharing it with us.

John
 
Thank You for sharing Rynen.

Sorry if you can't get the picture but the emotions I have then and descriptions are that of a child.
Click to expand...

The above is what makes your memory stand out to me. Past life memories - as a child really do bring another form of experience and validation. As adults we would be hard pressed to pretend to be a child, the thoughts feelings and emotions of children are processed so differently than adults.
 
Rynen,
This was a great sharing. Thank you.

I agree with the others about the memory from a child's perspective being unique and impressive. When I was working my way through my Little Wolf life most of it was from a child's perspective, since she was very young even when she died. That was very different from my adult mind and perceptions. I think it's one of the things that helped me trust that it was true memory work.

Wulfie
 
Yasuo

A small addition. Seems to me knowing my name each time is important.
See, last time I only knew it was a name which had the sound of "ya" in it. The name itself seemed short while my mom rubbled my hair. It felt so good I didn't pay attention to my name she said while calling me a good boy. I just loved the way her hand was going through my hair, even my father sometimes.
Overall I saw that last part again and the name made itself clear again: it sounded a lot like Yasuo.
 
tiltjlp said:
I like that in spite of all the detail, your focus remained on the ball, which would have been very important to a 4 year old.

John
Click to expand...

Thanks for the information. As a 4 year old the ball was very important I just got along with the feeling I had. I somehow blended things out and focused on the ball. Seems my family and me going for a walk, even the way we choose was something we did several times. So I did pay attention to things I already knew where there( skyscrapers, cars, street...).

I read that skyscrapers were started around the 70s in Japan. So guess it could also have been the 70s in their whole range.
Not only the beginning of the 70s.
But then I was born in this life only 12 years later. Seems kind of short.
But who knows how much time passes between each life?
 
Wow! Such an intense and detailed memory.

I have to agree with everything everyone else has already said. Also, with one of my memories, I only heard (understood) one of the syllables, but I knew it had two syllables. When I went searching, I found the word; when I saw it, I *knew* it was the right word. So your description of your name really "clicked" with me.

Very interesting!

Do you now have an interest in the Japanese culture?
 
Sorry to ask but: what did you mean by ""clicked" with me" MoonDansyr? That when you found the name you were looking for it sounded right?!

Well, since some time, guess when I got serious about it, I started to understand what I felt: the attraction of the Japanese country, culture...sure. But don't know if I described it before, what really stuck with me was the call and pull I felt to this country in an overall sense (Just when you are too long a time away from your home and now you got to go back!). That's how it was for me and still is. It's like going back home. May sound crazy since I never set foot there nowaday...nevertheless....Hope I answered your question.
 
I am wondering how many members remember a past life from the perspective of being a small child. I for one, am interested. ;)
 
Problem

New issue. 2 days ago I started to dream constantly about the car episode like I described it above. But strangely the dream itself focused on the last part of the dream, that is where I run towards my ball on the streets and where I get hit by the car. This part played over and over again in my head. 2 night ago when I awoke in the morning I felt uneasy asking myself why I would dream of the death part with the car all night long, repetitive like an unending circle.Something bothered me because it didn't make any sense.
Last night it happened again and the view zoomed on the huge car which caused my death. Over and over and over again like an old video with some playback problems. In the morning I knew why it focused on the car episode because the car itself was important. But I was still dead tired so I decided to take a nap of another hour. This time the same happened but my mind added every time "car, "car", "car"...When I awoke I wondered. I dreamed about it again (for the hour I slept) and even while I said the word" car" the dream played over and over again.
Then a thought hit me. I phoned a friend who just started learning Japanese and asked him what was the Japanese word for"car". As he replied that there are more than one word, the one he learned was "kuruma", when i heard him pronounce this word "kuruma" a swirl of emotions exploded within me. Some contradictory ,some not, all very confusing and intense, I could only name a few of them. I felt a tight knot in my stomach, excitement as if I made an important discovery, fear, joy when I hear the sound"kuru" of the two first syllabes, lots of confusion, thrilled as if going home, but also anger (anger was not my strongest emotion). The trill and excitement was the most intense. Like that was the word who was right and important.

What's the difference for me to know that car is said"kuruma" in Japanese and is right to me, but car in French (my today's native language) or, German, or English felt wrong or brought only indifference in me as if car can only be associate with the "japanese" word?
I mean I know I was Japanese back then, but why would it be of so much importance to me now ? After all it was the cause of my death!
The dream repetitive for 2 nights only to teach me the japanese word for "car"?! That's really weird I think! I can't see the connection!!!
Any help or advice would be appreciated!!

Lot's of talking again.
 
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