I was thinking about past lives, at least the ones I’ve remembered through my meditations.
Where I was a “bad” cowboy in the wild west days and I murdered people, a man from the Renaissance trying to rescue my past and present soulmate from a bordello, an asian monk in the Himalayas, a Muslim woman who was raped and stoned to death for it, and an Native American indian before the white people came to our land.
As I reflected upon those, it all felt like a warm tapestry over the totality of my soul that gave comfort in some kind of deep knowing and choosing of all these lives, where all we’re really doing is remembering who we are.
(Photo courtesy of and copyrighted by Abi Danial)
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