A lot’s happened in Washington in the last 9 days, hasn’t it? I have my own theories about what’s happened (it involves an invasion by an evil Egyptian god and Internet “meme magic” going too far) but I’ll save that for another time.
Lately, I guess the biggest thing is that I don’t update here much because I feel like there’s some distance between myself and these past lives, and I’m kind of enjoying it. Past lives are a lot of baggage to carry around and I feel happy to not be as burdened by that baggage anymore. I feel like, as time passes and no new memories emerge, I’m not as immersed in it any more.
This isn’t to say I don’t believe it happened, only that it feels more distant, less a part of my daily landscape. I’m starting to get homesick for places I only knew in this life, like Charleston SC or central Spain. I’m starting to feel like “me” again and not a disjointed collection of events that spun itself out of nonlinear time.
I don’t think things will ever go completely back to normal, but that’s fine. Honestly, I got a lot out of this experience. I found my spiritual center and a church that I’m very happy with, I found that I understood the Middle Ages on an intuitive level rare for a person from my era, and I found my groove as a writer first by revisiting another life where I did that, then by finding my own voice unique to this life and era.
Incidentally, on that last life, I seldom think about it any more. It would make a lot of sense if I was him but… well, so what? I’m not any more. I had time to mourn for what might’ve been, I’ve been back to places he would have known, and I met people he knew. And now that I’ve struck up a refreshingly normal friendship via Facebook with someone he was very close to, it seems weird and awkward to think of Phil’s relationship with her.
I’m glad I took time to piece together the story of how I got here, but now I’ve got to apply what I’ve learned and enjoy the richness it brought to my life. If I go quiet for a long time, it’s only because I’m too busy with this thing called living to think too much about the past.