I recently decided to take up meditating again after not having done so in months. In the past, I would be able to slip into a deep meditative state in less than a minute. I'm surprised at how quickly I was able to slip into a meditative trance with such a large gap of "time..."
Now, I've always had a sense of "been there, done that," but not in a direct sense. More of a "I've lived before; Nature is my friend" type of sense. Animals trust me, and I've always felt a strong connection to them. Even in the park, squirrels will come up to me, and I've pet rats that adore me almost as much as I adore them.
I can picture the face of a beautiful girl in my mind. She has long, braided black hair and the beautiful skin tone of an Indian. I know nothing about her, except that she is me - she is one of my past lives.
When I meditated, I used clarity stones and incense in hopes of retrieving a memory of my past life. I felt a need to repeat the words, "Ma, Pa" and saw and felt myself lay my head onto my legs. There was a TV in the background, and I no longer understood what they were saying, but I recognized the language as English. I was overwhelmed with a sense of longing and voices, external voices, yelled at me in French. They shouted, What are you doing here?! Over and over, and eventually, I was overwhelmed and had to black them out. I do not speak/read/write/or understand French, and although I did not understand their words, I understood what they were saying. A male was yelling at me, and there was somebody else who stood next to him, most likely a female, but it felt more non-gender specific.
I immediately went to write about this experience in my journal, but instead of writing about it, a voice (this time internal) spoke to me in French and I no longer understood her words, but I wrote them down. Too quickly, as it's difficult to decipher the letters, making it difficult to translate with a dictionary. Add to that my inability to write French properly.
A rough, admittedly terrible, translation of it:
Ma, Pa, I am here. In manor, it is no Cato, two to tower. It is the parlour of evening of the demon who has the slope. And love is not here, but it is the scot of the evening, not of Raymond, my falsehood. Not of fair, but one of daydreams and of the black. But her parents are it, the mount. It is her of the demon, and you.
She must have been well-educated, studying Roman politics (Cato was a Roman political figure), literature, and the like. She comes from a wealthy family. Her affairs with love trouble her and causes familial difficulties. She is young, most likely in her late teens, possibly in her early twenties.
I'm not sure what to make of this.
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