Mass Events, Session 806
Because events do
not exist in the concrete, done-and-finished versions about which you have been
taught, then memory must also be a different story.
You must remember
the creativity and the open-ended nature of events, for even in one life a
given memory is seldom a “true version” of a past event. The original happening is experienced from a
different perspective on the part of each person involved, of course, so that
the event’s implications and basic meanings may differ according to the focus
of each participant. That given event,
in your terms happening for the first time, say, begins to “work upon” the
participants. Each one brings to it his
or her own background, temperament, and literally a thousand different
colorations – so that the event, while shared by others, is still primarily
original to each person.
The moment it
occurs, it begins to change as it is filtered through all of those other
ingredients, and it is minutely altered furthermore by each succeeding
event. The memory of an event, then, is
shaped as much by the present as it is by the past. Association triggers memories, of course, and
organizes memory events. It also helps
color and form such events.
You are used to a
time structure, so that you remember something that happened at a particular
time in the past. Usually you can place
events in that fashion. There are
neurological pockets, so to speak, so that biologically the body can place
events as it perceives activity. Those
neurological pulses are geared to the biological world you know.
In those terms,
past or future-life memories usually remain like ghost images by contrast. Overall, this is necessary so that immediate
body response can be focused in the time period you recognize. Other life memories are carried along, so to
speak, beneath those other pulses – never, in certain terms, coming to rest so
that they can be examined, but forming, say, the undercurrents upon which the
memories of your current life ride.
When such
other-life memories do come to the surface, they are of course colored by it,
and their rhythm is not synchronized. They
are not tied into your nervous system as precisely as your regular
memories. Your present gains its feeling
of depth because of your past as you understand it. In certain terms, however, the future
represents, say, another kind of depth that belongs to events. A root goes out in all directions. Events do also. But the roots of events go through your past,
present, and future.
Often by
purposefully trying to slow down your thought processes, or playfully trying to
speed them up, you can become aware of memories from other lives – past or future. To some extent you allow other neurological
impulses to make themselves known. There
may often be a feeling of vagueness, because you have no ready-made scheme of
time or place with which to structure such memories. Such exercises also involve you with the
facts of the events of your own life, for you automatically are following
probabilities from the point of your own focus.
It would be most
difficult to operate within your sphere of reality without the pretension of
concrete, finished events. You form your
past lives now in this life as surely as you form your future ones now also.
EXERCISE
Simultaneously,
each of your past and future selves dwell in their own way now, and for them
the last sentence also applies. It is
theoretically possible to understand much of this through an
examination-in-depth of the events of your own life. Throwing away many taken-for-granted
concepts, you can pick a memory. But try
not to structure it – a most difficult task – for such structuring is by now
almost automatic.
The memory, left
alone, not structured, will shimmer, shake, take other forms, and transform
itself before your [mental] eyes, so that its shape will seem like a
psychological kaleidoscope through whose focus the other events of your life
will also shimmer and change. Such a
memory exercise can also serve to bring in other-life memories. Edges, corners, and reflections will appear,
however, perhaps superimposed upon memories that you recognize as belonging to
this life.
Your memories
serve to organize your experience and, again, follow recognized neurological
sequences. Other-life memories from the
future and past often bounce off of these with a motion too quick for you to
follow.
In a quiet
moment, off guard, you might remember an event from this life, but there may be
a strange feeling to it, as if something about it, some sensation, does not fit
into the time slot in which the event belongs.
In such cases that [present-life] memory is often tinged by another, so
that a future or past life memory sheds its cast upon the recalled event. There is a floating quality about one portion
of the memory.
This happens more
often than is recognized, because usually you simply discount the feeling of
strangeness, and drop the part of the memory that does not fit. Such instances involve definite bleed-throughs,
however. By being alert and catching
such feelings, you can learn to use the floating part of the
otherwise-recognizable memory as a focus.
Through association that focus can then trigger further past or future
recall. Clues also appear in the
dreaming state, with greater frequency, because then you are already accustomed
to that kind of floating sensation in which events can seem to happen in their
own relatively independent context.
Dreams in which
past and present are both involved are an example; also dreams in which the
future and the past merge, and dreams in which time seems to be a changing
ingredient.
EXERCISE
In certain terms
the past, present, and future [of your present life] are all compressed
in any given moment of your experience.
Any such moment
is therefore a gateway into all of your existences. The events that you recognize as happening
now are simply specific and objective, but the most minute element in any given
moment’s experience is also symbolic of other events and other times. Each moment is then like a mosaic, only in
your current life history you follow but one color or pattern, and ignore the
others. As I have mentioned [in other
books], you can indeed change the present to some extent by purposefully
altering a memory event. That kind of
synthesis can be used in many instances with many people.
Such an exercise
is not some theoretical, esoteric, impractical method, but a very precise,
volatile, and dynamic way of helping the present self by calming the fears of a
past self. That past self is not
hypothetical, either, but still exists, capable of being reached and of
changing its reactions. You do not need
a time machine to alter the past or the future.
Such a technique
is highly valuable. Not only are
memories not “dead”, they are themselves ever-changing. Many alter themselves almost completely
without your notice. In his (unpublished) apprentice novels, Ruburt (Jane) did two or three versions of an
episode with a priest he had known in his youth. Each version at the time he wrote it
represented his honest memory of the event.
While the bare facts were more or less the same, the entire meaning and
interpretation of each version differed so drastically that those differences
far outweighed the similarities.
Because the
episode was used on two or three different occasions, Ruburt could see how this
memory changed. In most cases, however,
people are not aware that memory changes in such a fashion, or that the events
they think they recall are so different.
The point is that
past events grow. They are not
finished. With that in mind, you can see
that future lives are very difficult to explain from within your framework. A completed life in your terms is no more
completed or done than any event. There is
simply a cut-off point in your focus from your framework, but it is as
artificial as, basically, perspective is applied to painting.
It is not that
the inner self is not aware of all of this, but that it has already chosen a
framework or a given frame of existence, that emphasizes certain kinds of
experience over others.
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