Today is June 21st. That makes today the first day of summer. Perhaps it’s just the genetic traces of ancient Celtic pagan blood in me, but the solstices of each season always stir my blood to some degree. And of course, well, SUMMER.
(view from my front porch last Winter - ugh)
(view from my porch today - Ahhhhhh)
Just the word alone fills most people’s minds with wonderful imagery of hot days, late sunsets, outdoor gatherings, ice cream trucks, beaches, fireflies, fireworks, and Frisbee in the street. Well, actually the reason I suggest that last one is because yesterday was my brother Nicholas’s birthday. I remember the day he was born very clearly because when my parents left to go to the hospital, my brother David and I were playing Frisbee in the street in front of our house. He was 15 and I was 13. The year was 1978.
(popular albums from 78)
The Frisbee was bright blue with some gold lame writing on it. I was wearing cut off faded jean shorts, and a bright yellow t-shirt that I had just recently purchased with my paperboy money. I had had it airbrushed with my name “Mike” (though I haven’t gone by Mike in years and prefer Michael now). It looked like the side of a customized van and I loved it. My hair was parted in the middle and
“feathered” back.
So, even though I already phoned and sent an e-card yesterday, I will take this opportunity to wish my brother Nicholas, Happy Birthday.
Now, on a different note, I have recently mentioned here my renewed interest in reincarnation. This has occurred due to several intriguing events that have taken place over the last few weeks that have made me start to ponder whether or not the universe is trying to send me some big message. I stated that I would be writing about these events, and future ones, here on the Sprouseart Blog and today I will begin. I certainly welcome any helpful feedback about them.
Though I have always had a strong interest in reincarnation, it has been one that has faded in and out over the years. While the pilot light was always on, sometimes the burner was on high and at other times, a slow simmering. This interest, in my opinion, more or likely rose from my natural interest in metaphysics, in particular, the
Tarot. I purchased my first deck, synchronistically enough, in 1978 and have been reading and studying them ever since.
(My first deck of Tarot cards purchased in 1978. The green silk scarf was my mother's. The old wooden box was something that I purchased at a tourist shop somehwere in KY in 1972 when I was in 2nd grade and the hip 2 dollar bill was given to my by my father when I was in my early 20's.
I still use this deck often and refer to it as my "power" deck. It has been used by coutless people over the last 28 years including friends, family and strangers. While most are living, some are now not. Some have gone on to do some amazing things while some others have gone on to do some terrible things. In fact, there is an amazing amount of history in these cards which have been touched by the hands of so many different people.)But, recently, the burner under my interest in reincarnation somehow managed to turn itself up to high again. I found myself finding articles and stories online and reading them very carefully (there are countless articles on the web about reincarnation). I tried to read them as open mindedly
and as suspiciously as possible at the same time so that I could try to make up my own mind about the information.
It was during this period recently that the first event occurred that really made me sit upright in my chair and made the hair on the back of my arms tingle. The event alone, or I should state the story behind the event, was enough to make anyone think twice about reincarnation – but the fact that I was informed about it during this reincarnation research period (something I had mentioned to no one by the way) made it all the more valid to me.
Basically, the event goes like this. One afternoon a few weeks ago I receive a phone call from my sister. Even though my siblings and I keep in touch rather regularly via e-mail, we hadn’t had the chance to actually speak over the phone for a bit, so it was a welcome call. We chatted about the usual things to catch up on and then, right before we were about to end the call, she remembered something and asked me if she had told me about the amazing conversation that she had had with her 3 year old daughter earlier in the week. O told her that she had not and so she proceeded to relay to me the following conversation that took place between she and her beautiful little girl. While these are not the exact words, I’ve done my best to make them as accurate as possible from my recollection of the phone call.
She began by telling me that she and her daughter were in the car driving somewhere, perhaps home from preschool I believe. She said that they were having basic conversation about the school day and what not followed by a lull in the conversation when her daughter suddenly said the following.
“I was very young when I died.”
Which continued as thus:
SISTER: ‘What!”
NIECE: “Mommy and Daddy said it was OK for me to go, but when I did, Mommy cried and said no, no, baby come back come back. But I didn’t. I tired to call to you but you didn’t hear me so I came to you instead.”
Needless to say, you could have knocked my sister over with a feather at this point. I was floored by what she told me. I asked her if her daughter had said anything more, but my sister said that she just changed subjects as small children often do and didn’t answer any questions about it when asked, as if it were nothing more than a thought which had drifted in and out of her head. My sister assured me that her daughter has not been exposed to anything about reincarnation and it is surely not something discussed on Teletubbies and Barney.
She told me that she had done some online research herself and found massive amounts of information on children that suddenly blurt out past life stories in the same manner as my niece had done. One researcher said in particular that she receives countless emails and phone calls from parents who have had similar experiences with their children. She went on to say that 90% of them happened in the car while the children were being driven somewhere. She seemed to believe that the hum of the motor somehow places the child in a light trancelike state where these past life memories come to surface more easily. Since the children are so young and have yet to forget these experiences they are more likely and more easily able to recall them then older children and adults.
I found the whole thing fascinating and a definite sign from the “universe” that I was on to something more. It felt the same way as it feels when a puzzle piece fits perfectly in place. You feel like you’ve gained more knowledge and the picture that your trying to visualize becomes a bit clearer.
I will relay the other events here over the next few entries. As I stated before, I would be interested in feedback on them.
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