past life duhs and other fantasies

After I dyed my hair I was feeling frisky so I put on some very dramatic dark red lipstick and went out to have some sushi. It was delicious. I casually neglected my plans for a movie and went instead to a nearby Borders because it occurred to me to look there for another Brian Weiss book that I hadn't found at Barnes & Noble since finishing his first book Many Lives, Many Masters – that having followed my attending his lecture in Miami Beach a couple of months ago. My friend is interested in attending a workshop of his in Sept. My official decision is already no since I already know what a bad subject I would make and it will probably be cost prohibitive and well gosh I just don't want to share the experience with S since I barely know her... and then of course there is how much I dislike doing things in community.... but even so I occasionally ruminate on it thinking maybe, although I haven't even thought about it for weeks now. Tonight I was thinking maybe his newer book would be as interesting to consider as the last...

I found the book I was looking for Same Soul, Many Bodies but I also discovered another one Only Love is Realand this one is proving an unexpected difficulty to read just because it is so close, there are so many echos. So many parallels to things I had considered quietly in the privacy of my own mind over many many years, but also many parallels to my current state of affairs... I think I knew about this book and what it would be about before I decided to go to the book store tonight, I think I knew about it as I sitting at his lecture. The lecture itself was comically difficult to stay alert during for the very simple fact the man has many years training in putting people in a meditative state, he tends to talk a little slowly and melodically quiet although he is actually shyly charming and humorously engaging. Even the 20 minutes we spent in our seats socializing while waiting for the lecture to begin was very relaxing I almost went into a meditative state just staring at the patterned stage backdrop in the Mosc we were in so within minutes of the lecture's start my eyes were drooping but I got something of a second wind and remained alert enough. As I listened to him talk however, at one point, I became aware of a very sad sad feeling as he talked of healing through past life regressions. I was almost completely detached from what he was saying because it all seemed so elementary to me in some ways - yadda yadda she drowned in a former life thus she had an unmitigated fear of water in her successive lives. I mean none of it was exactly new to me except, for this growing feeling of sadness within me. He talked of visiting other lives and it must seem like an incredible adventure to some people, extremely stimulating to at least consider but here I was feeling sad and resistant. It was such a curiously deep sadness because it was unexpected he hadn't touched on any known triggers at all. He was just talking about the healing capacity he'd discovered and I had this feeling of being disappointedly resigned to what I already knew: I need to work on my grief or it will only deepen in my next lives... except I don't want to do it because the thought fills me with despair.

As effective and interesting as the lecture was, as effective as he was at putting his audience in a very relaxed state, as much as I felt a personal affinity for his personality type, the mini group regression at the end did nothing for me, I tried, then I pretended, then I sat with my eyes closed, then I just sat around curious, alert and mildly incredulous at the surreal scene of the sedated crowd around me – I felt like a kid feigning a cold and staying home sick from school only to discover how mundane my mother's "other life" really was.

So tonight when I opened this book about past lives regressed to previous loves I supposed I was somewhat prepared for what I would find and yet I feel sort of disappointedly resigned to my grief again. It's that odd frustrated but also comforted feeling when I have a daytime Soap on and some of the same characters I remember from staying home sick are still embroiled in the same melodramatic, emotional masturbatory themes as they were last year... Marlana Evans is still a beautiful women with smiling, sparkling eyes no matter how many times they kill off her husbands, or how many times the actors who play her husbands change and return.... they live eternal somewhere, but this book makes me so sad. 

A past life character just left a lover to marry someone else who could offer more social economic security even though they knew it was wrong and they might never be forgiven... and I just knew the feeling too well. I think soulmates are plural - she did it to him, he did it to me and now there's yet another "He's gonna marry that girl" except it;s like talking about believing in aliens or something so I can't say anything. Psychologically it can be explained away as projection and that's tidy enough so I do as I keep my mouth shut but then I'm depressed at the though that I've got the rest of my life to explore as many empty "almosts" as I can get my hands on just waiting around for another life and a different take on that crossroads. If he only knew. Chose me dumbass. *sigh* There's just nothing to be done if your buddy simply must carry out a mistake in order to learn and crazy as I sound I know this isn't about me – sometimes you just can not wake them up when they don't want to believe how much it really matters but damn this is the same freggin' story line from three lifetimes ago and I already lived it once over in this life already as if you'll remember I was pretty good sport about it. So wake-up dude, wake-up, you're missing the whole thing! I suppose there is some relief knowing there's little that I can seriously fuck-up the rest of this life while I'm waiting for the next chance, I just wished I enjoyed the casual affairs more or exploited my youth a little more if I knew what I know now... or gesh, if I only knew what more there is to be done in helping someone else here and now - directly - besides recycling and giving money to the homeless shelter once a year. I want to be noble I'm just terribly sad right now. I miss my buddy, my home.