MANY WORLDS

Hiking Crew at Les Calanques, back in April

Back there in my other life, on a Tuesday hike, I'm pretty sure it was the one above, Amanda from Wales brought up the subject of past lives, something  that has always made me fascinated and a little bit scared, remembering when a ghost kicked Jenn and me  out of the upstairs Do Not Enter part of an old mansion. Amanda mentioned a book, Many Masters, Many Lives, which was apparently big in the 90s. 

Now Aix has an English language bookstore, which was initially a relief and a delight, but it turns out the books are pink and yellow and teal and have long titles that engender profound feelings of despair. I'm a product of COVID little libraries and the wonders of Brookline Booksmith, both of which put previously unknown books in front of me for me to read. So while Book in Bar (still don't understand that name) will order any book I want, I'd walk in, look around fretfully,  be put off by novels that have ice cream or cinnamon toast in the title, and leave unfulfilled only to become dejected on Sundays when the French book market happened and there they were, all these old and interesting looking books that I can't yet quite comprehend.

All this to say that when I heard about Many Masters, Many Lives, instead of trying to find it, I went online and listened to a podcast interviewing the author. A Columbia and Yale educated MD who ran the psychiatry department at a major US hospital, and nonbeliever in anything supernatural, he was the perfect person for me to learn from. Through work with a patient who had many serious problems in her life that he found incurable with traditional psychiatric methods, he fell upon hypnotherapy as a last resort, finding it effective, and a portal to the past lives of his patient.  He disabused me of the notion that karma is a sort of just desserts, rather his our souls having a particular thing that needs resolution in each life, the burden of which is carried over to the next if it's not solved in the current. 

​At the end of the podcast, he mentioned a YouTube video he had posted that allows the listener to do a past life regression meditation. With nary a book around to read and a rainy afternoon, I was all in. I'll tell you that among other things, I went back to being a powerful, cruel Egyptian beatch. The image below is actually of a goddess, which I certainly was not, but she looks the most like the picture I saw.  I know, we're all over the map on belief of things like this, as am I, but I went through it and I saw this, clear as day. Doing this gave me a clear understanding of what I need to resolve in this particular life, dovetailing perfectly with the EMDR I had done with a therapist a few years back. Turns out they're not so very different, only the EMDR didn't go back quite as far. 

I tried to find a better image, but all the other ancient Egyptian woman faces are too kind. I was really mean.

So, that was the headspace with which I passed through ICE border control (they literally didn't even look at my passport) and traipsed back to Kilsyth Road. As I was also literally moving from one life to another, with the only crossover my phone and silver bracelets, I have been doing a lot of thinking about all of these different lives, and don't see the varied ones in this life as particularly different from those I may have lived already. The Egyptian experience and going to Monorpix to pick up dried Febres are both equally distant and abstract. As some of my friends are on the more skeptical side "I don't want to talk about this", I'm doing my best to separate what's in my head and what comes out of my mouth, a lifelong challenge. 

Public Gardens were crazy ablaze

Kilsyth Road, did not plant the dogwood blossom

Back in this US life, it turns out I have been lucky enough to experience a second cycle of spring (what a great life plan, to follow springs around the world) . There have been so many things that have been delicious. Real, wonderful, warm and long hugs are by far the best. Good coffee! English, ice, kitchen gadgets, the ballet and unbelievable Chinese food, a shower, lots more space and large jars of kimchee. Sports with racquets! Oh I do love being in the flow while playing tennis so very much and yesterday had something close to a religious experience with Jenn on Court 4. 

In the spirit of spirits, I decided to head up to Brattleboro for Mother's Day to visit my mom, who had passed away a few years ago, but was the reason I used to take the Wantasquait trail to the peak with a nice view of Brattleboro and on clear days, the southern Vermont ski mountains. The ritual was to take this hike after visiting my mom at the beige but kind nursing home, in order to get the yayas out before driving 2 hours back. One time, at the top, of all the odd things, there were two others who didn't know each other, both of whom were there because they were exhausted dealing with older parents. We were all speechless.

My mother and I were similar in some ways, she certainly gave me the gift of genuinely feeling grateful more than most, for which I'll be eternally grateful. There was also the stiff upper lip. But there are many ways we were different, and she never quite understood that. If I'd express an opinion different from hers or do something that she wouldn't have done, she'd look at me a bit like a odd zoo animal and get uncharacteristically quiet.  So, I spent some time on that peak thinking about this and coming to be at peace with it, at the tender age of 65.  I know, when will it be done??

Zohar and Gene were behind the counter at Yalla, wearing cowboy hats and listening to Johnny Cash. Zohar said "it's been a while" and "thanks for remembering us". The prices had gone up significantly, bringing them closer to market rate, Star Trek still plays a prime role, though as I didn't go to the bathroom, can't confirm that Captain Kirk with Elvis glasses s still there. Still the best sandwich pretty much anywhere.

Still a lot of snowmelt on the Wantasquait trail

​The number one question I've been asked is not "So, how's your French?" (crawling along would be an apt response), but "So, what do you do all day?" (now that I'm a pensioner on a fixed income) which feels like a trick question. How the heck would I know?  For a wandering and curious mind that doesn't appreciate any sort of structure, it's a delicious feeling to wake up, well-rested of course because there are no longer flames of anxiety rising up at 2 am, after realizing that hiring committee meeting was never scheduled. One of my first thoughts lying in bed might be "Hmmm, what do I feel like doing today?"

Here is a typical day from last week: I had a soft plan to go for a walk in the Arboretum with a friend, but when I was ready to do something and we hadn't yet made a plan, toddled off to the gym and quite naturally pushed myself harder than I might have last year, then after asking myself what I wanted to do next, headed over to the MFA on a grey and drizzly day.  I fell upon Divine Color: Hindu Prints from Modern Bengal, which was surprising and wonderful, making me think about how clever it is that there are organizations only there to show us art.  I also took in Street Photography, which included a photo taken by a woman who had a Leica camera with a 90 degree angle lens, allowing her to zoom in on people without them knowing, which I've decided isn't fair, even though I used to do it. After, I walked out of the museum not knowing what was next, an urge for a good coffee took over, and it was on to Pavement, where the musicians hang. I enjoyed my cappuccino next to a man writing music, his foot tapping the whole time, rocking the table. On the way there, I had seen myself in the glass and was alarmed to see that it appeared I had diapers on, my pants having lost their shape, so headed to Assembly Square Mall to the J Crew outlet and came out with a lighter wallet but better lines. On the Orange line back, I thought about getting out at Haymarket and going up to get 6 cherrystones for $10, but didn't have any cash, so continued on home, and then went out to do I've forgotten what. So, that is retirement life for me, a fair amount of staring into space and aimless wandering. 

Current vibe

Bengali print #1

Bengali print #2. There is so much going on here.

Bengali tapestry, knocked my socks off

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Just a little Calder, casually displayed

And one more

Got some Sympathy Hall action before the end of the season

​So, Kilsyth is going up for rent year round and I'll sort out my next summer living situation at some point in the future  If you know anyone who's looking for a very spacious one-bedroom starting September 1st, LMK. And if you or anyone you know is in need of furniture, art books, kitchen equipment, rugs, pictures, linens, pretty much everything that's in my apartment, let me know, I'll need to hold on to most things until the end of summer but am happy to reserve things. I'll be taking nominal donations that will be passed on to Sportsmen's Tennis and Enrichment Center, my favorite charitable mission.   

Big adventures later this week, stay tuned.