I believe that we are connected together in this world, interlaced and entwined like so many worn shoelaces. And there are some uncanny moments when I feel like I’ve been in this world before. Before this time.
As if I’ve lived in the past, known the world in its younger days. I don’t know how else to describe such a feeling, but just as a sense of being outside myself sometimes, like I am remembering being in another…life? Moment? Time?
It could be explained by memories of childhood, pretend games based on books I read or movies that I’d seen as a child. It’s likely, even, that this is the case. But what if there is something else, beyond the normal faded glimpses of time that the brain sums up after so many years? I can’t fathom this deep feeling of connectedness to the world of time, as if I am bound by ancestors deep, years upon years of lives within myself, fragrant with an open-eyed anticipation of a re-birth, a transformation.
Imagination can be a powerful thing. William Blake put a great deal of importance on imagination. He said that imagination is “the real and eternal world of which this vegetable universe is but a faint shadow.” So then, is it possible that the imagination can tap into something beyond itself, into something that is centuries old, like a myth that becomes part of the structure of past and present, a key to the universe? Can imagination reunite me with myself? If so, then it could be possible that by reaching in and taking hold of thoughts that seem make-believe, I can actually remember and take part in something deep in the past. Something that has happened already, and may happen again. History does that. Repeats itself, repeats itself.
And my children – they bring about such incredible nostalgia, that I wonder how much of this exposition of the soul is due to their bright, new, brilliant take on a life so fresh, bringing with them a still-healthy piece of memory from past living, familial ties that are intrinsically laced with all other people who ever walked the earth. People who are yet with them so intensely, it’s as if they remember them and carry them along for the ride. They have the purest sense about them still.
People are bound together from the same place, when it all comes down to it. Think of the Internet, linked together in such a complex, wacky-but-orderly manner, threaded together like a great afghan – a giant crazy quilt of people. Then think of our ancestors, our families, us. All bound together in existence in a profound way. Centuries upon centuries of experience together. Deep in all of us is an essential human core, a link that keeps us together.
We are bound together.
It resonates soundly with me. I am yearning. And I’m nostalgic for something I’ve never experienced in this life. I am hungry for living a life I don’t recognize. I am bound to a past I know nothing about. I am connected to people I’ve never met.
There is an anthem of old running in my veins. This is a song my children sing. They sing it to me, and I’m humming it in my heart.
And I’m humming it to you. I hope you hear it. I know you will, if you just listen.
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