Reincarnation

We are not born fresh; our incarnation is part of what has gone before. We are part of the patterns not only of millions of years of biological evolution, but also the patterns that have been inculcated over hundreds and thousands of years of living in a society. This is part of the reincarnation experience and the concepts and spiritual graspings of observed functioning of the self in its environment. Almost all of it is from before, and the First Self within it is almost just a passenger. Our directing of it only a story we lose ourselves within, and the free will but a name we give to a game we play, fooling ourselves that we control it.

We are part of the environment and all our decisions and choices in life come from our history of our reaction to our surroundings. The information which is presented to us according to our situation influences our thoughts and initiations, which we then call our free will. Our reactions conditioned into us from our past and before. The before gets included into reincarnation concepts and biological evolvement to influence our responses in an overarching guidance for our better survival. This overarching guidance can be called the hand of God — nature's mechanics at work. The arch is part of our experience of divine guidance; it is the scaffolding of the way it works, a describing of how it works, and our unravelling of it can be called a de-sign.

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There were many suppressed knowledges I had as a child that I knew were impossible to tell any others, and this reticence to say anything is still a habit which affects my disclosure. It starts at the earliest of age with not being able to tell anyone due to lack of language and the accompanying lack of desire to tell anyone because it isn't seen as important at this time. By the time the capability is there, there are too many instances of realising that there just isn't any point, because they always misunderstand anyway. All the adults were like children to me, even though it was me who was the child. Every child has this adult within them, just as every adult has the child within them.

There came a time in my childhood when I was allowed to name a new teddy bear, and was told that I could name it whatever I wished. This opened an opportunity for me to release a most inner knowledge that hadn't been able to be shared with anyone before. I knew that I had a suppressed memory of something, perhaps a previous life (at least suppressed in the sense that I could not talk of it to anyone and it was hidden), and there was this special name or word from this ungraspable place which I now could use to call my teddy. I thought "here's my chance", and tried desperately to remember what might have been my previous name.

I said to myself "remember, remember", but the only name that came to me was Naomi, but there was a woman who appeared on TV at the time whose name was Naomi — who I didn't particularly like — and I knew that this was not the name that I was thinking of. I knew that the name began with an 'M' but was also an 'N'. I was confused and couldn't retrieve the name I wanted, and the closest I could come up with was 'Miaomi'.

But I wonder if trying to remember had actually brought up the Greek word for 'remember' — mnaomai, and this is why there was confusion of the word beginning with both an 'm' and an 'n'. At this age I would not have known this word and I certainly had no contact with any Greek or knew of the meaning of this word at this time.

Although I have forgotten now, I can remember that there was something deep and a hidden knowing that I wanted to release, something that I had known all along but was suppressed and sacred, something that I now had a chance to reveal. But it was already faded and vague to the point of unretractable. I wonder if it was knowledge of a previous life or a parallel life from my subconscious. Perhaps it wasn't a name like Naomi but an inner voice saying "know me".

Of course, all the memory may have come from a dream and there is no way of knowing. In fact there may be many instances of memories of reincarnation that come from the persons early dreams which persist in a half remembered state, and I do have empirical verification that future and past can be accessed from dreams. Although this does not explain anything, it means there is a source we can investigate, which simplifies it somewhat. If dreams can show an impossible knowing of the future — which I know to be true — then it is just as likely to be the source of an impossible knowing of a previous person's life. Just how this brain antennae can pick up this information is a story yet to be told, and there are any number of fictions which can be woven around these circumstances, and indeed already are.

~

Kundalini

I have a memory of being a baby and being aware that I was higher up than usual, and presume that I must have been in my high chair which had been put on top of the table for some reason, and can remember looking at the ceiling which was closer than normal, and after a short while finding that there wasn't much to look at, I turned my attention inwards with interoception. I explored down my body, and when I got to a lower level, which I now presume was my pelvic area, I experienced a massive surge of sensation which exploded with white light into what can only be described as the greatest euphoric experience. I assume this was what is known as a Kundalini event and probably caused by the stimulation of the cauda equina, the energy from which then moved upwards through the spinal cord via the aptly named 'white matter', until all consciousness was subsumed and transcended in the ecstasy of the process. The White Room beckons with this sliver of white light shining up the back bone, and I have experienced this in adulthood, and although the white light is not 'seen' as it travels up the spinal column, it is most definitely felt and synaestheses as such.

But as with all these experiences, they hint at an even greater to come experience, and revelation, and transcendence — but they don't produce anything more. The experience ends there and does not continue onto something else, as with so many of these interesting episodes. No great understanding is revealed, no universal explanation is forthcoming, no realisation of godhood, just spiritual experiences extrapolated later into stories of what might be. It is a human experience consisting of physical stimulation and mental interpretation, and limited to the particular situation in which it occurred. They quite often never happen again but are oft retold in stories and embellished with prior accounts from other people who have become idolised by the grandiose assumptions from their followers, who expect there to be a divine purpose behind it all. But none of it goes anywhere.

The spiritual gurus that sit upon their pedestal constructed of special experiences, are not being honest about their capabilities and allow their followers to hero worship them. If they were truly honest, they would not allow there to be any followers, because it only gets them to be misled by silly archaic stories and a false hierarchy of spiritual attainment. Our highest level of these spiritual blessings was when we were babies, and we were all equal in our abilities then.

Meditation produces a calmness and confidence which fools others into thinking that these practitioners know more than they actually do. Meditation does not bring knowing and will not correct incorrect prior beliefs, but it will allow a clearer view uncluttered by too many assumptions. But, seeing through to the simplistic is something that anyone can do, and this is all that is being done.

The Kundalini experience I had as a baby was preceded by an interoception exploration, and as I travelled down my body I have the memory of thinking (or being spiritually told) that I should not go down to this area and keep away from it. As much as I dislike the concept of reincarnation, there are a lot of memories from being a baby that do not make any sense for what I should have known at this time. My hesitancy to explore further was as if I could remember a lifetime of being obsessed with the sensation from this area, and not wanting to rekindle that sexual addiction.

~

Pim-Pim and Pom-Pom

I had two imaginary friends when I was a small child, or at least that was what I was told by my family, and I grew up believing that I did even though I had no memory of them. It wasn't until I was 53 that I remembered what they were.

Whilst playing an imaginary game under the sideboard (or somewhere like) when I was about one or two years old, I had the sudden realization, and with great discovery, that it was possible to make loud and powerful sounds that would shake the very foundations of existence. It was like a revelation that I could do magic, and I carefully prepared to erupt this deafening noise into the world. But the effort and deliberation made the sound come out twice. I first shouted "pim" with such effort it came out "pim pim", and then thinking that the sound was a bit thin, I changed the technique to "pom" to produce a more fuller sound, which again came out duplicate as "pom pom". I was a bit disappointed as it wasn't quite as Earth shattering as I thought it was going to be, one of the first in a long list of other disappointments in my life as the envisioned magic fails to materialise.

That was the birth of Pim-Pim and Pom-Pom. I can clearly remember imagining what the sound should be like, and preparing to make it though I did not know exactly how to.  This over attentiveness prior to doing it, is probably what caused the doubling of the sound, and I did have a stutter early on in my life when the effort and anticipation of verbalisation interfered with its production due to the great gravity and awe I had of this sacred act of communication.

I was trying to make the loudest noise that I could, and to my mind was a great discovery and like a magic power. But my family thought they were the names of imaginary friends I was playing with, and  when someone came over to me and asked me where were my imaginary friends, I could only assume they were talking about the game I had been playing beforehand. So I pointed outwards at first and then curved my arm back to point at my head, because I somehow knew that my imaginations originated in my head, or at least the outward direction was wrong. I remember trying to understand where the imaginations were, and regarding them as being more important than the real world and not wanting them to be belittled. I didn't have any words as I was pre-talk age, but I remember being a little embarrassed as if it was a diminutive activity to play in my imagination, while for me it was greater than reality (and still is). From then on my imaginary playground from other's perspective contained Pim-Pim and Pom-Pom, but to me it was just making loud noises. The sounds were completely co-incidental and had nothing to do with my imaginary game. We all continue these child born imagination games as we grow up, by reading fiction or watching it on TV. It's all games; always has been, always will.

I continued to make the sounds of Pim-Pim and Pom-Pom for a few years after this, but only as an unintentional release, just making loud noises — possibly a mild form of Tourette's syndrome!? The last time I did it was in a car and I remember my sister looking in the direction I was facing, trying to see what I was looking at, but I wasn't looking at anything. I realised that it was causing something untrue, which I knew to be wrong, and I decided then to not say it again, and never did.

But as I grew up my family convinced me that their story was the reality and that I had had these imaginary friends, and as I could not remember them — because there weren't any — I grew up believing them and cultured the same concept that they held.

Even in my 40's while in a lucid dream and asking for my dream helpers and two people appeared, one staying in the background, I wondered if they were Pim-Pim and Pom-Pom, as I also did when I saw angels (fully awake this time), and while looking at the first one a second one popped up — again in the background, and I later mused on whether they were a return of my childhood imaginary friends. But I never had any childhood imaginary friends; they were the imaginary imaginary friends of my siblings. This is an example of how the adults and elder peers you grow up with can sow deeply ingrained beliefs within you that will persist throughout your entire life. Beliefs that are entirely wrong and cause fictions to be woven around them to try and make them make sense. All religion has this deep influence upon the believers and the same goes for so many folk tales, like reincarnation.

~

But I am still undecided about reincarnation, being doubtful of others claims while being unable to deny my own experiences of it. Most of my memories pertaining to this concept come from when I was a baby. One of these is from a friend of my parents who had enormous breasts, and I can remember being a baby held in her arms and realising that nobody knew that I was more than just this baby. I had the thought that I could play with these breasts and that as nobody knew who I really was, I could get away with it, and so started to push and press with my tiny hands upon those balloons. She said "no, don't do that" and due to a previous life's conditioning of conformity, I felt complied to obey and I ceased my fondling. I can remember knowing that I was being very naughty and knowing that I could get away with it because "I" was invisible.

It was like being a fully grown man within this baby but no longer had any sexual interest because I was a baby now, but the mischief was there and I can remember that I knew and that nobody else knew. Now, that memory makes me not know who I was or who I am now. Any chance of uncovering who I was has now been washed over by so much that it is impossible to recover. We have to recognise that we all have amnesia.

It is of course possible that I have created this memory retrospectively and despite my objections and protestations because of my belief in empirical knowing, I have to consider that it could be a false memory. But I generally don't believe in reincarnation, so why would I create a memory that contradicts my philosophy? I find this very hard to reconcile and there are so many other memories I have which just do not make any sense; of things I could not have known about at the time. Of thoughts that are totally anachronistic. It troubles me because it does bring the question of who we really are, and if there is a crossover from a previous life, and how much of that now remains. Who are we?!

Perhaps we should not underestimate a babies capability of foreseeing themselves in the future, as they are surrounded by examples of such instances. And also, the memories are being recovered in an adult world and that subtle tainting of those memories is very possible, if not inevitable. But there are so many little details and nuances which tentatively lure me into thinking that it really is true. It also doesn't help that there are so many people who will lie to reinforce their belief system. They will construct complete fictions which sound so convincing but are nothing more than their mischief. Perhaps they are still within that mask that hides who they really are behind it all, and fooling everybody is the game they will play and never tell that they are.

Reincarnation is a bit like the word God. It is a word with a lot of implied story behind it, but does not actually have any description whatsoever of what is really going on. At the end of the day, the experience of reincarnation is just information of the past being present within a person's mind. How it gets there is unknown — as is most of the means and mechanism that this apparatus produces and which we call consciousness. If we include examples of seeing the future into this category, we will probably be getting nearer to a concept that explains it, and if we include the backdrop of the no-time zone of the White Room, we will probably be getting closer still.