Pride.

We often talk about bad memories associated to our past lives. Traumas are frequent, also feelings of nostalgia and all kind of unresolved issues we must deal with sooner or later. Does this mean there are no good memories? No, not really, but it seems it happens like in real life: for some reason human beings like to focus in the negative part of everything, and we easily forget the good moments we have lived with friends or relatives.

Lately a curious thing has occurred to me in two different occasions. The situation was almost identical. The emotion attached to the particular situation was more intense the second time. I wouldn’t say it is a real trigger, as I don’t get clear memories. If I wasn’t so aware of my past lives, I would probably let it go or just say I am especially dreamy that given day. In both occasions I was leaving my home to go somewhere else. Flocks of hair partially covered my eyes, and though I am a woman this time around, I had the feeling I was a young man with long, light brown hair. I take a handbag I recently bought, with a strap over the shoulder and of a greenish color. I don’t know why but every time I take it I feel like a soldier who goes to war, not a normal soldier, but one that has to embark in a wooden ship docked in the harbor. I am a sailor and I don’t know when I will return.

I leave. The weather is cloudy, as if it is about to rain. As I walk I see my feet striding fast, but in my mind I don’t see my usual shoes, but black boots. I like to adopt a martial rhythm, as if I am marching along. The ground is wet, and if I am stepping on a cobbled street, the flashback gets even clearer. It brings a feeling of pride and I can’t get enough of it. I am happy of being where I am, of being who I am. I am young and feel strong, and above all, I feel that what I am doing is honorable and worthy. I carry just what I need to survive in my bags, and I am fine with it. I also get a glimpse of a huge ship looming over me as I get closer to the decks, and I am so proud I am part of the crew and I know how to sail. Crossing the ocean doesn’t sound dangerous, and though I will miss my home I am not bothered to be abroad for so long, doing what I most love.

The memory is gone in a few seconds. Past and present seem to become one, but you only need a word or something catching your attention to be back in your current body, in your tedious current life. The emotion lingers a bit longer though. Tears were in my eyes as I typed the above lines, just evoking the scene and feeling it so close, as if it had happened yesterday. I started to remember my Royal Navy life because I felt as disappointed with my job as I felt in 18th century, but that doesn’t mean there is no other kind of feelings. Maybe I am recovering the same enthusiasm I had when I was young and eager to travel the world, and that’s fantastic.

Age and time become so weird when you remember past lives...