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Do you cry when you see your past life?

I had a very strange moment in the Boston Museum of Fine Art years ago. I had been travelling with a friend, but went alone. And I got to the Egyptian section, and began crying because "There's so little of this left!"
Still don't understand that one. It was an instant emotional reaction. There's something there though.
 
SeekerOfKnowledge said:
I lived in Siena, too, but that was about 600 years earlier than you (died in 1348). I don't remember much, but what I saw was enough to later find out that the city was Siena.
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Hi, Seeker:

What a joyful surprise to meet somebody who was almost my neighbour not so long ago, really !

I lived near Siena, not in Siena itself. And I was never so much fascinated by architecture or things of the art, I was just a simple country guy.

Maybe if you read (or listened as an audiobook) the James Hadley Chase's "Mission to Siena" ("Zahle oder stirb"), you'd find there some details on Siena's medieval past, maybe even something you had lived through yourself in that PL of yours.


Best regards.
 
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Speedwell said:
This question is about crying and past lives. For me, the discovery of crying was part of both healing and the connection with past lives. For a number of years as a young adult, someone in the physical prime of life, I'd tried so hard to push all of this hidden feeling aside, to leave it behind. There's a phrase 'get on with my life'; though I'm not sure what that means.

After a few years of struggling with this bubbling emotion, always submerged just beneath the surface, but never going away for very long, I decided it was time to try a different tack. Another approach. All that buried emotion - from I knew not where - I decided to let it flow. it was a violent eruption of feeling. To say I cried would be an understatement. Once I had decided it was ok to go down this path, the first thing I noticed was that I survived. It hurt, it was painful. But the next day I was still alive. I started to feel joy. Somewhere into this mix of intense weeping followed by periods of joy and peace, I already knew this must be the right track, I just wanted some sort of healing. And pow, bam, an explosion of connection as I found my own previous self in a photograph from many years before I was born.

That was a start of a different thing, an effort at the intellectual level to try to understand all of that rationally. I made a few errors there. Rational thinking is the hardest and most error-strewn part of life. Often one must follow emotion and intuition, that will lead to truth, while rational argument may be futile. I say this from experience. My Dad had a saying, "the wise man learns from other people's mistakes - the fool learns from his own" - and he self-deprecatingly admitted he had had to learn from his own mistakes. Perhaps that is the human lot, we all have to learn from our own experience - whether we call it a mistake or inevitable almost doesn't matter.

To track back a little to the earlier part of this post. Allowing oneself to weep uncontrollably is not something which it is easy to fit into everyday life. This experience went on for at least ten years, and fortunately I learned to turn on and off the emotional outpouring at will. So I went through a form of self-therapy which could only be done when alone, while also setting off on a new career and launching myself deep into the world of work.

What I'm talking about here is a kind of time-sharing. I devoted myself 100% to the job I was doing, indeed one I was just learning. I also devoted myself 100% to releasing buried emotion from a past life. And somehow managed to fit both into a busy schedule, while also adding into the mix a hectic social life. I don't know how this is even possible. But that past-life stuff is not just an academic curiosity, some obscure interest, it is a crucial part of health and well being. It must be allowed its day, just as all the other aspects of life are attended to.
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Thank you for posting this. I thought I was the only one! I, too, carved out time for intense crying and emotions over my past life. I just couldn’t stop mourning a person I had lost. It felt so real and present, as though I needed to see a grief counselor. But you cant really attend grief therapy for a past life loss- far too much explaining to do. I have finally reached the stage where I don’t sob daily for this person. But I still mourn him. And certain memories of place still make me feel so melancholy.
 
Welcome Liebe12345!
You're not alone. I cried a lot when I saw photos of places or when memories of my last past life as a marine in Vietnam spontaneously came back with a lot of emotions. Over time, that settled down. I thought I was fine but now another of my past lives (Cossack imperial guard in Russia in late 18th, early 19th ) pops out and the tears crisis start again looking at photos of places (Tsarskoïe Selo, Smolensk, Krasnoi where I died in 1812) and sometimes just with memories. I would also like to see people that I have known in this life.
 
Well, I'm an optimist, after all my scepticism and materialism.

No use crying over spilt milk. 'Just take care of your karma, and your karma will take of you', is my motto.
And I hope that someday, when I look back, I'll be able to say, like Edith Piaf in this song, "Je me fous du passé / Je ne regrette rien" (= "F*** the past / I don't regret anything").

But yes, with a lump in my throat...


IMHO
 
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Liebe12345 said:
Thank you for posting this. I thought I was the only one! I, too, carved out time for intense crying and emotions over my past life. I just couldn’t stop mourning a person I had lost. It felt so real and present, as though I needed to see a grief counselor. But you cant really attend grief therapy for a past life loss- far too much explaining to do. I have finally reached the stage where I don’t sob daily for this person. But I still mourn him. And certain memories of place still make me feel so melancholy.
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Thanks, it helps me too to know that others have similar experiences. Though I'm more balanced nowadays, there were times when I felt there was no-one else who understood what I was going through. Years ago, people would say to me light-heartedly, "Cheer up, it might never happen!" to which I had nothing to say in response though I did sometimes reply "It already has" and leave it at that.

It's good that you seem to have most of that process already behind you. I hope things get better for you.

It seems I post bits and pieces of my experience in different threads, for example this recent post from another thread which is on a similar topic,

NonOrdinary States of Consciousness and the Accessing of Feelings
Speedwell said:
That certainly matches my own experience. I didn't know what I was doing, just discovered a method or process by myself. After years of struggling to suppress and minimise inner pain and distress, I realised it was not going to go away. So one day I decided to try the exact opposite of suppressing the pain. I settled down by myself, and just felt the pain, allowed it to come to the surface. I've talked about it before. It resulting in tears, I cried for the first time in many years. This turned out to be beneficial.

I carried on that process for days, weeks, eventually for years. The key though is the description, "NonOrdinary States of Consciousness". I was able to enter or leave this state at will. I never did it in public, though might perhaps if in a corner of something like a bus or train, where I would be unobserved. When it was time to engage with everyday life such as buying a ticket or chatting to someone, I'd be back in everyday consciousness immediately.

Yes, it allowed access to feelings, which actually was my navigation tool, in order to enter this state of consciousness I went towards the pain, into it, that's how I knew which way to go. It also had two results. One was healing. Two was triggering recall of a past life, though not in a direct way, but by the ability to discern what my past had been. For example I'd research a topic and suddenly certain things felt right, felt like me, while the rest just left me uninterested, no response. That was something new though it all fitted into a much longer pattern, going back to childhood when I had no idea of the concept of past lives, so things went unrecognised at the time.
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Before remembering everything, I felt a strong connection to the place and culture of my birth in my last life -- the Pale of Settlement, in a Hasidic community -- but had no feelings about where I spent most of that life: London. I always felt like an outsider in England, though, associating mainly subcultures; London's popular "public image" never stimulated any memories.

When I remembered, though, I bawled my eyes out for a full day, and cried off and on for months afterward. Now my main feeling is frustration -- I'm a horrid skeptic, I demand evidence! I've found that places and events I recall are indeed real, but still have no concrete evidence of my actual existence! I feel I should be able to find my death certificate, the name of my business, anything! The search for proof leaves me feeling unhinged, but I feel just as crazy remembering so much with nothing real to accompany it. It makes me feel like a fool most of the time.

The thing is, though, I ended my own life back then -- I sent a strong message to the universe that I was done that existence. So I suppose this could be explained away as some weird, funny karma. I can feel the powers that be looking at me in confusion right now like, "What? It seemed like you wanted nothing to do with all that!"

If I could get my hands on photos of my work, my family, or my partner, I'm sure I would weep until I died of old age and was reincarnated all over again. What I wouldn't give to see real proof of all the memories I have! Clear, undeniable confirmation of any kind would leave me a blubbering mess, I'm sure.
 
HBC said:
When I remembered, though, I bawled my eyes out for a full day, and cried off and on for months afterward. Now my main feeling is frustration -- I'm a horrid skeptic, I demand evidence! I've found that places and events I recall are indeed real, but still have no concrete evidence of my actual existence! I feel I should be able to find my death certificate, the name of my business, anything! The search for proof leaves me feeling unhinged, but I feel just as crazy remembering so much with nothing real to accompany it. It makes me feel like a fool most of the time.

...

If I could get my hands on photos of my work, my family, or my partner, I'm sure I would weep until I died of old age and was reincarnated all over again. What I wouldn't give to see real proof of all the memories I have! Clear, undeniable confirmation of any kind would leave me a blubbering mess, I'm sure.
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You've probably looked already, but have you tried the census records? I was around at the same time, born sometime around 1880, but can't for the lives of me find a birth certificate (or death certificate). Have had much more luck with the census records, and had all the emotions when I found someone on the 1901 and 1911 census records that matched basically everything I'd remembered. It was such a strange feeling, up to that point I could tell myself in more sceptical moments that everything had been my overactive, if strangely specific, imagination; seeing 'my person' on the census in black and white, a real, physical document, just... it was like I tumbled inwards, the world collapsed and rearranged itself, and I cried *a lot*.

I clearly remember having a portrait photograph taken, probably in around 1917, that I would dearly love to find again, but after so long I doubt it exists anymore, though I did go through a period of rather feverish searching on eBay, alas to no avail.
 
helz_belz said:
You've probably looked already, but have you tried the census records? I was around at the same time, born sometime around 1880, but can't for the lives of me find a birth certificate (or death certificate). Have had much more luck with the census records, and had all the emotions when I found someone on the 1901 and 1911 census records that matched basically everything I'd remembered. It was such a strange feeling, up to that point I could tell myself in more sceptical moments that everything had been my overactive, if strangely specific, imagination; seeing 'my person' on the census in black and white, a real, physical document, just... it was like I tumbled inwards, the world collapsed and rearranged itself, and I cried *a lot*.

I clearly remember having a portrait photograph taken, probably in around 1917, that I would dearly love to find again, but after so long I doubt it exists anymore, though I did go through a period of rather feverish searching on eBay, alas to no avail.
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Hello, everyone:

I quite admit our PL memories - not necessarily all, but only those that are allowed to escape through the amnesia, can be slightly modifed, just right to make it impossible for anybody of us to prove they are true.

IMHO.

P.S. This film makes me cry just outloud - streets, buildings, trains, people (the way they talk, the clothes they wear, everything).


Here's the whole film (in Spanish). From 1 h 32 min - the most pathetic part:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1YXyHS9SWl35pyIqDEQD1Sk2zOAdvqHQT/view

Best regards.
 
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The anniversary of the date I was fatally injured in Vietnam is fast approaching. It's very curious because before finding my last past life and validating some details in late October, I always had a strange feeling on that particular day, I knew something had happened but I couldn't understand? Now I know and I feel like I'm reliving that moment day after day. I know where my unit was based, I have the names of the operations, the names of my comrades who fell that day, the places...I know that their names and "my name" will be read aloud at the Memorial and I can't help but burst into tears.
 
helz_belz said:
You've probably looked already, but have you tried the census records? I was around at the same time, born sometime around 1880, but can't for the lives of me find a birth certificate (or death certificate). Have had much more luck with the census records, and had all the emotions when I found someone on the 1901 and 1911 census records that matched basically everything I'd remembered. It was such a strange feeling, up to that point I could tell myself in more sceptical moments that everything had been my overactive, if strangely specific, imagination; seeing 'my person' on the census in black and white, a real, physical document, just... it was like I tumbled inwards, the world collapsed and rearranged itself, and I cried *a lot*.

I clearly remember having a portrait photograph taken, probably in around 1917, that I would dearly love to find again, but after so long I doubt it exists anymore, though I did go through a period of rather feverish searching on eBay, alas to no avail.
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I actually haven't scoured census records (not entirely sure how these things work in England -- I now live in the states), but I have searched birth & death dates on ancestry websites, and I've looked as much as I can into synagogue records around Stamford Hill, where my family lived in London. I've also looked at old newspaper obituaries and articles and such. Once I found a man who died the same way I did, for some of the same reasons, but he died in 1936, and I KNOW I made it into WW2. Not all the way THROUGH WW2, but I was around long enough to see where it was heading :(

I'll see if I can take a census-based approach somehow. That's actually a really reasonable suggestion, I feel silly for not looking into it! Thanks!

I also have a photo I remember -- lots of photos actually, but most of them are poorly framed and washed out o_O My partner and I had a studio photo taken on my 20th birthday, in 1926, wearing matching wide-striped jackets (borrowed) and boater hats (bought earlier that day). He stood behind me holding some kind of a folding cane and I sat on a little bench with my chin on my fist. We made our most serious, civilized faces. It was a sweltering hot day, and we were kinda drunk :D We got a large copy of it and kept it in a frame for nearly 15 years. Every detail is burned into my brain (or, should I say, my soul), I looked at that thing so often, for so long. I definitely indulge in magical thinking over that picture -- why else would I remember it so well if it didn't still exist? Why would it live in my head so clearly if I wasn't meant to find it again?! I've refrained from looking for it, but if I had a list of wished for items -- from my past life or otherwise -- it'd definitely be in my top ten.
 
HBC said:
I actually haven't scoured census records (not entirely sure how these things work in England -- I now live in the states), but I have searched birth & death dates on ancestry websites, and I've looked as much as I can into synagogue records around Stamford Hill, where my family lived in London. I've also looked at old newspaper obituaries and articles and such. Once I found a man who died the same way I did, for some of the same reasons, but he died in 1936, and I KNOW I made it into WW2. Not all the way THROUGH WW2, but I was around long enough to see where it was heading :(

I'll see if I can take a census-based approach somehow. That's actually a really reasonable suggestion, I feel silly for not looking into it! Thanks!

I also have a photo I remember -- lots of photos actually, but most of them are poorly framed and washed out o_O My partner and I had a studio photo taken on my 20th birthday, in 1926, wearing matching wide-striped jackets (borrowed) and boater hats (bought earlier that day). He stood behind me holding some kind of a folding cane and I sat on a little bench with my chin on my fist. We made our most serious, civilized faces. It was a sweltering hot day, and we were kinda drunk :D We got a large copy of it and kept it in a frame for nearly 15 years. Every detail is burned into my brain (or, should I say, my soul), I looked at that thing so often, for so long. I definitely indulge in magical thinking over that picture -- why else would I remember it so well if it didn't still exist? Why would it live in my head so clearly if I wasn't meant to find it again?! I've refrained from looking for it, but if I had a list of wished for items -- from my past life or otherwise -- it'd definitely be in my top ten.
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If there's anything I can help with search-wise here in the UK am happy to help! And I hope your photograph turns up sometime, sometimes it hurts so much remembering something tangible so vividly but not to have it anymore
 
I finally found my person (my past life love) in some Dutch records from World War II. This, after decades of memories and dreams and tears. When I finally saw his name I lost it. I cried and sobbed for days. It felt like I was back in mourning. I even considered the need for grief counseling, although I wasn’t sure how I could explain what I was going through.

The amazing part, though, was that once I saw his name and could fully grieve, I eventually was able to heal. Now I am filled with warmth and nostalgia instead of devastation.
 
helz_belz said:
If there's anything I can help with search-wise here in the UK am happy to help! And I hope your photograph turns up sometime, sometimes it hurts so much remembering something tangible so vividly but not to have it anymore
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I was able to find and look into the 1921 census for England & Wales, and though I'll likely never find my family (names are spotty) I was certainly heartened to find that recently-immigrated "Russian" Jews (we'd be Polish on today's map) were indeed living in London! I know that during WW1, there was some kind of "Russians must serve in the army or be sent back" pressure from the British government. I vaguely recall my parents being threatened by this, but I have no memory of how we dodged that bullet. The more I read about that era, the more I feel my memories are fantasy, and that the whole story of how we got to London was impossible. But just seeing that other families were following a similar trajectory to us is reassuring! I'm glad I looked, thank you for the suggestion! I didn't know anything about Jewish people in London or WW1 before remembering my previous life -- I've done a lot of research to validate my memories and have be shocked by how accurate they are. But because my memories aren't often common knowledge (certainly not taught in history class), my knee-jerk response is usually to consider them wrong. So far they've been right, though! History is just weirder (i.e., more complex) than I was led to believe ;)

But here's something else I discovered: apparently, the 1931 census burned in a fire and the 1941 census was never taken due to WW2! The next census isn't going to be released to the public until 2052! What a huge gap in time! Makes me feel bad for anyone who was born and died in that 20 year span -- imagine living in the UK from 1922 to 1939. There'd likely be no record of you at all! I often feel like I made up my previous life, as it's so hard to find information -- but then I realize how fragile and easy to lose history is, even modern history. Not only does nothing last forever, but sometimes they disappear almost as soon as they show up! That's definitely a lesson I have to learn from all this dying and being reborn: to make peace and let go. There's no stopping the clock!
 
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