I recently tore through the book The Forgetting Time, by Sharon Guskin (review to come), a story about a 4 year old boy who seems to remember a past life. Reincarnation has always been a fascinating subject for me, and while I can’t say that I completely believe in it, neither am I willing to dismiss it. Kind of like ghosts, aliens, ESP, out of body experiences and the like: who am I to say? There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in my philosophy…it’s one of the reasons I like to write in the fantasy/paranormal genre, to explore the possibilities, the what ifs.
In most documented cases of past lives, children seem to have memories of the previous life within the first few years, and then tend to forget by about age 5 or 6. Often, the remembered previous life had been ended by some kind of violence, murder or an accident, something that had ripped the person out of their life. Thinking on this, I remember what I thought was a dream as a very young child, maybe 2 years old; it’s perhaps one of the earliest memories I have. I seem to remember waking up from the dream and seeing the bars of my crib around me, if you can believe that.
The dream is that I’m riding in the cab of a large truck, like one of those Mack trucks, going down the highway at night. I seem to be a child, though thinking about it now, I’m unsure. I know that I wasn’t driving the truck, and that I might have been sitting between two other people. As the truck barrels down the road, it suddenly smashes into one of those green traffic signs hanging over the highway. I don’t know how this could be, I can’t imagine any truck being that tall. Maybe the sign was low. Who knows? But always on the point of impact, I wake up, staring at the ceiling above me, and I swear, the bars of the crib around me.
I seemed to have the dream several times, always the same thing, the truck, the sign, boom, and then after awhile, never again. I didn’t think about it again for a long time, but for some reason or another, it came back to me when I was older. And I thought: what on earth? Why did I dream about being in a Mack truck at that young age? What did I know about Mack trucks? And why a collision? It baffled me; I had this fear that it was a kind of premonition, that I would die in a car accident some day.
And then, very recently, it occurred to me. What if I had been remembering a past life? I was very young. The dream contained elements I couldn’t have possibly known about at that age. And the dream ended with some violence. I made the connection before I read The Forgetting Time, but the book has put me in mind of it, and now I’m curious.
I’ve often flirted with the idea of past life regression, just as a lark, but now I possibly have something to focus on. And it’s a little freaky. It’s said that we forget for a reason. Do I really want to remember?