HBC
Senior Member
I don't really remember things in any language per se, but I can still sort of access the "old languages" when I am very, very relaxed. I dreamed up a lengthy conversation in Yiddish one time while getting reiki, and another time I had a small conversation (in real life, not just in my head) in Hebrew, which left everyone around shocked, as no one thought I knew any Hebrew -- myself included! I was pressured after this to continue speaking, but once I became aware of what I was doing, I lost the ability. It really blew me away, though -- this was ages before I remembered my last life. It seemed like a magical spell had been cast over me! I was quite fascinated by the phenomenon for a while, and read up on bizarre neurological cases where brain damaged patients lost or gained language skills or accents. Now I know that my past life parents were Hebrew revivalists and Zionists back in the pre-Israel days, and we spoke Hebrew in our house almost as much as we spoke Yiddish.
I wonder if I got comfortable enough around Yiddish speakers if I'd randomly be able to speak with them, too -- as long as I wasn't paying any attention to what I was saying
What's funny is I've always had a great passion for English in this life. It's my first language now, but I take it much further than that. My whole life I've been obsessively building my vocabulary and trying out various forms of writing -- poetry, fiction, nonfiction, song writing, script writing, you name it. In my last life, I had over 25 years to learn English in London, yet I never really mastered it. I always had an accent and felt clunky about it, and tried to make up for it by inventing a silly jargon I shared with my friends. Deep down, though, my struggles with English left me feeling inadequate -- especially when my parents and sister mastered the language without issue. I feel in this life I am trying to prove myself, but the chip on my shoulder no longer makes any sense! Some strange part of myself still feels like I don't fully know my own language
I wonder if I got comfortable enough around Yiddish speakers if I'd randomly be able to speak with them, too -- as long as I wasn't paying any attention to what I was saying
What's funny is I've always had a great passion for English in this life. It's my first language now, but I take it much further than that. My whole life I've been obsessively building my vocabulary and trying out various forms of writing -- poetry, fiction, nonfiction, song writing, script writing, you name it. In my last life, I had over 25 years to learn English in London, yet I never really mastered it. I always had an accent and felt clunky about it, and tried to make up for it by inventing a silly jargon I shared with my friends. Deep down, though, my struggles with English left me feeling inadequate -- especially when my parents and sister mastered the language without issue. I feel in this life I am trying to prove myself, but the chip on my shoulder no longer makes any sense! Some strange part of myself still feels like I don't fully know my own language