Around and Back Again

Just this past weekend, while on my way out of a party for a friend of mine, I was stopped by a lovely young woman.

“I know you,” she said.

“From where?” I was curious as I had noticed her a little while earlier and couldn’t shake the feeling that she seemed a little familiar.

“Probably from another lifetime,” she said, not the slightest bit unsure of herself.

“I’d accept that,” I said with a smile, wishing that I wasn’t already running a little late for the next place I had to be. Giving her my contact information I said, “Please be sure to find me again. I’d like that.”

And off I went to next stop for the night.

But that moment has stuck with me.

Those moments always stick with me.

And there have been a good number of them over the years.

I do most definitely believe in reincarnation of one flavor or another. I’ve had enough personal experiences to make that belief unshakable. As is the case with most metaphysical things, though, I don’t ever expect anyone else to buy into the idea. So it’s always something a little special when someone broaches the subject right off the top. Even more special when there’s a chance our paths have crossed before.

This sort of thing really came into focus for me when I hit college. Very quickly, as I met many new people, some resonated with me more than others. As we discovered more about each other, we found not only a number of common interests but some very unusual commonalities as well. Key among those strange overlaps were memories of things neither of us had done in this lifetime.

My first reaction is usually to write it off as overactive imagination–gleaned bits of insight from regular interaction percolating through the subconscious and presenting imagination dressed as memory. That got more difficult as the details got more specific. Even more so when we’d get together and compare notes we’d written before we knew each other and find the same striking similarities of vision.

The Universe does not waste anything. Everything changes, is taken apart, reformed, reused. Science tells us that matter and energy are at least somewhat interchangeable, that there is a conservation of mass, that matter (in the broadest sense) cannot be created or destroyed.

If we hold that to be true, than our physical bodies alone are made of bits that have been used before. All of our base material was once part of something–or someone–else. We are star stuff.

And if our physical bodies can lay claim to such a vast and impressive pedigree, why not the non-physical parts of us as well?

There is currently no reliable way to measure those ethereal bits that may or may not make us who we are–that whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. But for those of us who have been touched by insight into the cycles we all go through, lifetime after lifetime, the value of that quantity becomes clear.

Without a doubt, I can say we all go around and eventually come back again. Our paths cross the same people again and again, each time letting us play different parts for one another. Sometimes we’re lucky enough to realize those deep connections and work through to something greater. Sometimes its only long after the fact that we realize how far back a love or friendship can be traced.

I don’t know if the girl from the party will ever cross my path again in this lifetime, but I’d like it to happen. Not because she was attractive or because I think its a novel way to make new friends, but because exploring those possible connections brings all involved closer to being more complete.

Have you ever felt that kind of deja vu when meeting someone for the first time? Have you ever compared notes with a friend and discovered you share a secret history?