It is somewhat hard to explain, and now that I am again in the Facebook group "Signs of Reincarnation", reading the same old boring conversations, based on partial and biased research, I realize these sensations are very important when it comes down to assess the reality of reincarnation. It goes way beyond simple memories, we can say it is something subjective, inherent to the subject, and it totally belongs to the psychological sphere of the individual. It is impossible to objectify, but for the one who experiences it, it is another proof that we have lived similar events in other times. As we have had that experience, our reactions are completely different to the ones that have those who live it for the first time, and undoubtedly, following our intuition, we will find different ways for survival. And we will also be able to predict our behaviour, whether or not we will fall into despair, or whether or not the crisis will take out the best of ourselves. When fear is near, I think you soon know the amount of cowardice or courage that runs through your veins. You know what you will be up to do if your life or your loved ones’ is in danger. You soon know if you will go past over anyone’s dead body, or if you will search for solutions that won’t harm your neighbours anymore. In sum, you soon know if you will fight to save your own ass, or if you will defend the weakest.
There has always to be something to fear. Back in that time I had to live, were the Russians. Today it is an invented pandemic.
As it is long since I don’t do this, I am going to bring part of those memories that resonate like the song “Pressure Points” inside of me. At the end I will put the videos for all those of you who want to listen to the songs I am going to mention. Maybe they will even bring the same feelings to you.
At the beginning I was outdoors, wearing a raincoat, in a grey, cloudy and cold day. I know my wife is near. Her name could be Emma. She’s wearing a straight, below-knee, grey skirt, and a garnet beanie (not like the military ones). Her hair is straight, of a light colour. I squat to be at the height of our son, he has begun to walk not long ago and staggers. We are out on a walk, it seems there is a small fair or something like that. When I ask about my city, I ask: “Cologne?” No, not Cologne… It is West Berlin. It is near Brandenburg Gate. I have the impression the fair is in a square near that gate… and it is a later period, when we both work in the American base.
I feel some kind of sadness inside me, as I am concerned about the suffering of the Eastern neighbours. They are trying to trespass the frontier and many are killed. I think about them as my brothers, we both lost the war but it seems they bear the worst brunt and I know the communist regime is tough… why I know, I think it is because of part of my family, the things they have told me (??).
When I ask what happens to those that try to break through, the answer is unequivocal: if they catch them, they kill them. If we catch them… well, the most logical would be they apply for political asylum, wouldn’t it?, if that is possible given the circumstances and the period, but I know it is not always like that. They are imprisoned, interrogated, and according to I don’t know which criteria, it is decided whether or not they admitted to the FRG, or otherwise, they are deported, which means they will be sentenced to prison for the rest of their lives or assassinated… This latter circumstance is the one I can’t accept, it is senseless. How I know all this, I wonder… It is confusing, but I think it is from that time I was under military instruction, in the barracks that were also air base, where I saw myself the first times. There I had to stand watch some nights (not many because I wasn’t a soldier for a long time, I soon became an officer, and besides, my work wasn’t related to infantry, I don’t touch weapons a lot), but I see myself in a high place, at night, near to what it looks like a turret or a sentry, with another mate, in a corner of the premises. The barracks must be near the frontier. Beyond, there are woods. There is a spotlight that lightens all the compound and sweeps through intermittently. There are coworkers with dogs that guard the area. We frequently hear machine gun shots in the proximity, when they shoot from the other side and kill the poor people that try to cross. My mate, who is smoking, laughs and looks through the peephole of his weapon, joking. That annoys me and I tell him he shouldn’t laugh, any day soon he might find himself on the other side. I take away his cigarette and put it out, scolding him he should not smoke in service hours.
I don’t know it from first-hand, but I hear stories from other soldiers, there is one who works in the administrative section, his name is Friedrich and he usually tells me what happens in these cases. My blood boils. If I could, I would probably help them, I would even be up to get them false documents. From what it seems, everyday there are twenty or more arrested people, and they say we can’t give refuge to all of them, because any sparkle could provoke a new conflict with the communist side, and if we catch them they have to be taken back. I feel all this is before the Berlin wall was built, though I am not very sure.
(Regression 17-2-2012.)
I think it is the affair of the Berlin wall what makes me decide I want to enroll in the Army. I don’t know if they end up expelling me or if I leave by my own decision, but I do know I make up my mind and I see myself in the living-room of what it seems the palace with my sister and my brother, telling them. I also see my mother, I have the impression she speaks with a bit a Russian accent (though of course I don’t hear her speaking German at any time). My brother thinks I’ve gone mad. He thinks I am wasting all the money my parents are spending on me, on the studies I am now going to quit, they think I don’t need to enroll in the Army, as if they considered it is not a honourable job for me. I am sitting on the sofa and I see my brother standing, and I am very angry with him, I almost wish to beat him, because I think he has no principles, and I do it because I want to make something useful in life. They say I don’t care about money, and they are right, I don’t care about it, not the very least, I don’t mind if I have to relinquish the luxury and the comforts we are used to. The idea that comes to me is that if a war comes, I want to fight against the Russian… though I am also thinking, so early in time, that maybe I could somehow help my friends if they got trapped on the other side. My mother says that she could make my father ensure my enrollment if I wanted to, I tell her there is no need to, but I know she will do it anyway… It is as if being his son opens some doors to me, or makes things easier, though I still don’t know what position he has.
(Regression 30-10-2012.)
They woke you in the night
A glare from bright headlights
Sentries in a row
You watched from a front window
Through sleepy eyes you saw the scene
And felt as if a dream
Had come to life
Caught by surprise
Protection in disguise
A high barricade
The price too high to pay
The late night dancers filled the street
And stopped as if a dream
Had come to life
A wail and a cry
Blue lights flashing by
In shadows of the trees
A zone runs in between
The young boy-soldiers filled the streets
And moved as if a dream
Had come to life
Can it be a nightmare?
Will you wake and still be there?
So you try to run
Frightened you're the one
Left inside
Seeing what my country might become in only one or two months, this song keeps being completely present for me. And it still gives me the chills. The good news is that while I drive my car in a semi-meditative state, I know what I would become if a similar moment arrived. I know I would still be a rebel, I know I would still fight for what I consider just, and I know I wouldn’t mind ending up as a dissident in a government prison, as a consequence of helping my neighbours to trespass the walls that need to be trespassed.