I think I've heard this term used, as a way of describing the process of entering a human body, whether at birth, or also when returning to the body after a Near Death Experience (NDE). The idea is that one of the conditions of our entering this world is that we are supposed to forget. That is, in order to enter fully into this life, and respond naturally to it, all preconceptions are removed, so we can view this world with fresh eyes.
I know that for many people here this process of forgetting has not been very effective, as there is a lot of remembering too.
One thing I wanted to describe from my own experience is that I seemed to get an extra-strong dosage of the 'forgetfulness', though things still leaked through, in many ways, I came into this world feeling somewhat bewildered. One example, I remember just after I started school, I must have been five years old, looking round the main hall during assembly, seeing myself surrounded by children. In some ways I felt privileged and glad to be among them, but somehow very puzzled. The thing is, I wasn't a child. I wasn't a human. I don't know what I was, a point of disembodied consciousness maybe. I found it difficult to understand how it was that I was allowed to be among all these humans, when I myself wasn't human.
I gradually acclimatised myself to this environment, but had difficulty in making sense of many everyday expectations, how people were expected to behave, to dress and so on. We were taught how to spell, how to do sums (arithmetic), but no-one would answer the questions which were uppermost - what was this place all about? No-one seemed to even understand my questions, they thought I was being disrespectful or a troublemaker when I tried to find out. I think the adults genuinely didn't understand my questions. There were so many things which were taken for granted, this is just the way things are, but every aspect of things seemed a puzzle to me.
There were of course bits of past-life recall creeping through, but often at an almost subconscious level, rather than as direct memories. I seemed to stumble along, doing competently well in some areas at school, but not feeling fully involved in things. In my early teenage years I had a kind of premonition. Just from looking around and seeing the path which others had taken, it was clear that at some point in the coming years I should reach adulthood. But I knew I'd never get there. I felt something had to give, that I would almost certainly be dead before the age of twenty. Reaching adulthood was an impossibility for me.
Of course, the Earth kept on moving around the Sun, the days kept ticking by. After leaving school I was pretty lost. I'd no idea what to do next. A number of my classmates from school were going to university, so I figured that was maybe a good idea. I followed along and found myself starting at university, still pretty much as lost and bewildered as I had been on my first day at infant school all those years earlier.
And here is where the veil began to lift. The encounters I had with various people, fellow students and their friends, seemed to trigger something in me. I started to flourish - in one sense at least. My studies fell by the wayside. I was a hopeless student. But it was as though I'd undergone not exactly a personality transplant, but more of a joining of a whole, fully-developed personality, and merging it with the shadow person who'd looked after the physical body up to that time. From that point on, I felt whole for the first time.
However, it was a mixed blessing. This wholeness gave an immense joy, perhaps for a brief time the happiest I'd ever been, or would be again. But this new beginning was also the start of the greatest troubles. It seemed now I had the strength of an adult body, it was time to take on the pains and struggles, picking up where I left off in an earlier existence, and entering on a roller-coaster of ups and downs, taking me to the edges of despair more than once. Eventually I could take no more. I'd already decided against suicide. My view was that the reason why I might take my own life was to stop the pain and suffering. But in doing so, I saw very clearly that I would be introducing tremendous pain and suffering into the lives of others - those who loved me, had cared for me for so many years, would feel the blame was theirs, a burden they'd carry for the rest of their days. It was a poor bargain. End my own pain, but create several times more pain for others. What sort of a deal was that? It made no sense. So, at the edge of despair, at the point where one cannot go on, and with no possibility of ending it all, what does one do?
I did the only thing I could at that point, what was left? I prayed. I had no religion, I'd gone to a church school, my background was nominally Christian, but that wasn't me. I was mostly an atheist. But still I prayed. I prayed to a god that I didn't know even existed.
And then, things grew a little brighter. I wept. Something I hadn't done in years. I cried for days, weeks at a time. But alongside all of this, I found my past-life identity. Suddenly everything made sense. I had a couple of false starts, I tried to match my date of birth with those of someone in the past, but that was a wrong answer. There were a number of clues, patterns which were clear, solid pointers, but it was when I found a particular photograph of someone from almost a century earlier that I stopped in my tracks. It was like looking in a mirror. Not the shape of the features, they are a somewhat transient thing, a face viewed from different angles or in different light can take on many different aspects. But it was the facial expression, looking into those eyes and seeing me looking back at myself across space and time.
The details here will have to be sketchy. I did go on to share this with my friends, acquaintances, even people I'd only just met. I wasn't looking to convince or convert anybody. The only question I asked of others was, am I losing my sanity? I just wanted to know whether what I was thinking made any kind of sense. Was it reasonable? Now the people who I shared this with, face-to-face, had varied responses. But not a single one of them told me I was crazy. No-one said I was delusional. They didn't have to agree with me, but at least it seemed my idea was rational, reasonable. At that point of course I was dealing with just a cross-section of ordinary people, not students of the occult or part of some mystical society. Just plain, ordinary people. That had quite a calming effect. I didn't have to go out and sell this idea, it was ok if I kept it to myself, but at least it had passed a 'sanity check'.
Wow - this post is much longer that I expected. I didn't plan to write all this, but it just seemed to flow.
I know that for many people here this process of forgetting has not been very effective, as there is a lot of remembering too.
One thing I wanted to describe from my own experience is that I seemed to get an extra-strong dosage of the 'forgetfulness', though things still leaked through, in many ways, I came into this world feeling somewhat bewildered. One example, I remember just after I started school, I must have been five years old, looking round the main hall during assembly, seeing myself surrounded by children. In some ways I felt privileged and glad to be among them, but somehow very puzzled. The thing is, I wasn't a child. I wasn't a human. I don't know what I was, a point of disembodied consciousness maybe. I found it difficult to understand how it was that I was allowed to be among all these humans, when I myself wasn't human.
I gradually acclimatised myself to this environment, but had difficulty in making sense of many everyday expectations, how people were expected to behave, to dress and so on. We were taught how to spell, how to do sums (arithmetic), but no-one would answer the questions which were uppermost - what was this place all about? No-one seemed to even understand my questions, they thought I was being disrespectful or a troublemaker when I tried to find out. I think the adults genuinely didn't understand my questions. There were so many things which were taken for granted, this is just the way things are, but every aspect of things seemed a puzzle to me.
There were of course bits of past-life recall creeping through, but often at an almost subconscious level, rather than as direct memories. I seemed to stumble along, doing competently well in some areas at school, but not feeling fully involved in things. In my early teenage years I had a kind of premonition. Just from looking around and seeing the path which others had taken, it was clear that at some point in the coming years I should reach adulthood. But I knew I'd never get there. I felt something had to give, that I would almost certainly be dead before the age of twenty. Reaching adulthood was an impossibility for me.
Of course, the Earth kept on moving around the Sun, the days kept ticking by. After leaving school I was pretty lost. I'd no idea what to do next. A number of my classmates from school were going to university, so I figured that was maybe a good idea. I followed along and found myself starting at university, still pretty much as lost and bewildered as I had been on my first day at infant school all those years earlier.
And here is where the veil began to lift. The encounters I had with various people, fellow students and their friends, seemed to trigger something in me. I started to flourish - in one sense at least. My studies fell by the wayside. I was a hopeless student. But it was as though I'd undergone not exactly a personality transplant, but more of a joining of a whole, fully-developed personality, and merging it with the shadow person who'd looked after the physical body up to that time. From that point on, I felt whole for the first time.
However, it was a mixed blessing. This wholeness gave an immense joy, perhaps for a brief time the happiest I'd ever been, or would be again. But this new beginning was also the start of the greatest troubles. It seemed now I had the strength of an adult body, it was time to take on the pains and struggles, picking up where I left off in an earlier existence, and entering on a roller-coaster of ups and downs, taking me to the edges of despair more than once. Eventually I could take no more. I'd already decided against suicide. My view was that the reason why I might take my own life was to stop the pain and suffering. But in doing so, I saw very clearly that I would be introducing tremendous pain and suffering into the lives of others - those who loved me, had cared for me for so many years, would feel the blame was theirs, a burden they'd carry for the rest of their days. It was a poor bargain. End my own pain, but create several times more pain for others. What sort of a deal was that? It made no sense. So, at the edge of despair, at the point where one cannot go on, and with no possibility of ending it all, what does one do?
I did the only thing I could at that point, what was left? I prayed. I had no religion, I'd gone to a church school, my background was nominally Christian, but that wasn't me. I was mostly an atheist. But still I prayed. I prayed to a god that I didn't know even existed.
And then, things grew a little brighter. I wept. Something I hadn't done in years. I cried for days, weeks at a time. But alongside all of this, I found my past-life identity. Suddenly everything made sense. I had a couple of false starts, I tried to match my date of birth with those of someone in the past, but that was a wrong answer. There were a number of clues, patterns which were clear, solid pointers, but it was when I found a particular photograph of someone from almost a century earlier that I stopped in my tracks. It was like looking in a mirror. Not the shape of the features, they are a somewhat transient thing, a face viewed from different angles or in different light can take on many different aspects. But it was the facial expression, looking into those eyes and seeing me looking back at myself across space and time.
The details here will have to be sketchy. I did go on to share this with my friends, acquaintances, even people I'd only just met. I wasn't looking to convince or convert anybody. The only question I asked of others was, am I losing my sanity? I just wanted to know whether what I was thinking made any kind of sense. Was it reasonable? Now the people who I shared this with, face-to-face, had varied responses. But not a single one of them told me I was crazy. No-one said I was delusional. They didn't have to agree with me, but at least it seemed my idea was rational, reasonable. At that point of course I was dealing with just a cross-section of ordinary people, not students of the occult or part of some mystical society. Just plain, ordinary people. That had quite a calming effect. I didn't have to go out and sell this idea, it was ok if I kept it to myself, but at least it had passed a 'sanity check'.
Wow - this post is much longer that I expected. I didn't plan to write all this, but it just seemed to flow.
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