I meant to mention this earlier.  Although I have not had any flashes of what might be past life memories for a good while now, I have been having vivid dreams lately that seem to have a theme of watching hundreds of years of entropy unfold before me.

In the dream I had a couple days ago, I was in a pretty little cottage.  The place was old, and looked like somewhere in Northern Europe.  It had terra-cotta tiled floors of varying shades of brown and a pitched A-frame roof like an Alpine chalet, and the ceiling came down to floor level and was plastered and white-washed.  I lay in a simple bed, looking out the window.  The tiles below the window were intricately patterned.  The scenery beyond the window was beautiful, and I felt I knew it, with a green field and wooded hills beyond.  I felt tears in my eyes.  Then I saw roads and ditches cut through it, and before long I was looking at a highway; I felt I had just watched several hundred years pass and and the tears of joy turned to tears of sorrow.

In the other dream, which I think was actually in the early morning hours yesterday, I found myself looking at the ruins of an old brick church.  One could still see the insets in the brick work where the rafters would have gone, and although I didn’t actually see how it looked when it was new, I felt I knew this place when it was an active church.

I don’t know what to make of these dreams.  The way the windows looked in that cottage may have been from an ad I saw for a cute little cottage for sale in East Coker (for more money than I’ll ever have), and the general feeling of the dreams is understandable given the ravages of time on places I knew in past lives I’m more certain about.  I don’t think they’re real places so much as speculating on how I might feel when confronted with places I knew in past lives.  Still, I awoke from those dreams- especially the one about the cottage- feeling rather sad and incredibly old, as if I really had watched hundreds of years pass before my eyes.

I suppose in a way, I have.


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