“Lose your mind and come to your senses.” Frederick Salomon Perls

My American Husband and I were long distance friends for about a year before we finally met face to face.  We had been members of an online community of movie lovers who started as strangers from all around the globe and ended up finding each other as friends, lovers, spouses, and eventually even co-parents.  We called ourselves the Movie Regs and met every evening for conversation, trivia games and laughter.  For a single Mom, this was the only social life I had the time or money for, and it was surprisingly fulfilling.

After a year of emails and phone calls, we finally decided to meet for a 5 day getaway in Idaho.  We figured that if the chemistry was good and our friendship was meant to blossom into something more, the 5 days would be sufficient to determine that.  In reality, 5 minutes would have been enough because our chemistry was most definitely good.  It took us an hour to get out of the Spokane airport because we kept have to stop and kiss on each other.

Too much information?  Probably.

On our second day in Idaho we stopped at a local market and picked up some fresh fruit to have for dessert.  Ranier cherries, plump, yellow and pink, and redolent of that amazing scent that perfectly ripe cherries have.  We ate them warm while sitting outside in the sunshine.  We spit the pits off into the bushes, and didn’t mind too much when our hands and lips got a bit sticky with the juice.  They were succulent.  The perfect food.

To me,  Ranier Cherries taste how falling in love feels.

Our senses hold so many memories. The smell of baking apple pie is a visit from my Grandma.  My American Husband can’t hear “I Shot the Sheriff” without remembering his Dad (“What kind of song is this? What is this world coming to??”) And the sound of a spoon dragging along the top of a bowl of cheerios, dunking them in milk, well… you know who you are.

But what about those sense memories that harken to other lifetimes?  My Dad has had vivid memories of a lifetime in the Incan Empire since he was a tiny boy.  He won’t wear the color red.  He hates the taste of cornmeal.  His senses remember what happened centuries ago and he carries those memories in the sights, and tastes of this present time.

For me, the sight and scent of apple blossoms bring back a flood of happiness from a time I lived  a gentle, loving life as Constance Willoughby.  And the smell of dust in the dry air make me remember how it feels to choke with asthma, though I have perfect, healthy lungs.  I get anxiety from the sight, smell, taste and feel of saffron.  These things belie logic and make me wonder how many memories from other lifetimes are stored in these senses of mine.

Curiosity piqued, I intend to do a little experimenting.  I have a sense memory tangled up in lavender.  I have no idea why it is, but when I smell or see lavender I am filled with such a deep sadness or maybe a better word is longing.  Why does lavender (and no other flowers, purple or otherwise) create this reaction in me?  Is this a past life sense memory?

I aim to find out.  During my past life travels I have determined that if I set my intention to find out a specific answer to a question (Like why do I have stage fright?  Or when did I have a past life with this person? etc. etc.), I typically end up going to the lifetime that best provides the perfect answer.  With that in mind I will do a regression tonight, setting the intention to find out what this association with lavender is all about.   Why such a visceral reaction to an otherwise lovely flower?  Inquiring minds want to know.  If anything of interest comes up I will be sure to write about it in tomorrow’s blog.

Where will Brenda’s travels take her next?  Find out on the next episode of…. Past Life Tourist.

Don’t touch that dial.


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