I have often wondered what triggers a past life memory. So I am constantly observing myself to elucidate which factors have an influence on it. It seems there is always something in common: usually it is either a thought turned into a mental pattern that predetermines your current way of thinking, or, much more frequently, an emotion. Sometimes this emotion is quite obvious, other times it is harder to identify. I am not very sure what exactly triggered the most recent memory I have had in regards to my life as Fritz. This happened a couple of days ago. I do know what I was doing. On one hand, someone asked me something specific about another one of my past lives, and I spoke to her about how in that life I had not told all the truth to my own family. On the other hand, I was concentrated writing a post for my personal blog concerning veganism. I have been quite active in this regard of late, something I had never, ever, done since I made the decision of becoming vegetarian, nearly twenty years ago. I feel I have to do it, I feel it is the only thing I can do to raise awareness and so, with time, achieve that the world changes for the better.
Apparently, being a mistreated wife, veganism and the Berlin wall are not linked in any way. And however...
Night came and I decided to meditate. It is rare I see something these days. But in this occasion I started to see something almost right away. I saw myself as Fritz, in first-person view. I saw that I was barefoot, wearing only a pair of boxers, and walking around my home, so I deduced it must have been hot. I could see my well-trained bare legs, my arms (by then I was in good shape), the silver bracelet on my right wrist (a bangle). I saw the same decor, with light, beige shades. And I knew I was nervous, though I didn’t know why yet. In my life as Fritz I was nervous very often. To soothe my nerves I used to smoke cigarettes.
Suddenly I noticed there was an argument. Now I was in the upper story, in the double bedroom. My wife was on the bed, wearing an attractive pearl-colored satin negligee. But I can’t stop pacing to and fro. It must be the early hours of the morning, maybe 4 or 5 a.m., and we are arguing because my wife can’t understand I can’t calm down and get back to sleep. Besides, she doesn’t like me to smoke in the bedroom, in case some ashes fall to the carpet, but I can’t help it (and I know we have an ashtray somewhere). I take a deep breath and try to settle, always gazing at the grayish green telephone on my bedside table, on the right side of the bed. It is not the first time I relive a similar scene, in which I find myself a prisoner of anxiety, keeping an eye on the phone...
It never rings. However, I think this is not bad per se. It would be worse if they called, because that would mean things have gone wrong. They would be alerting me to take the luggage and leave the country, because if they discover what I am doing, I am in danger...
Afterwards, I see myself seated there, smoking and looking up at the stars. I am thinking about all those people that have tried to cross the Berlin wall tonight. Their names are not given to me. I only know it is not the first group that tries, and I could help them selling classified information about the Berlin wall to a Russian. This means that if I am caught my military career will be done and I will likely end up in prison. Maybe this is the reason I get so nervous when a group crosses the wall. My future is at stake. Once I did it for two of my friends, and that time I did have to receive a phone call, as soon as they were safe in West Germany. Due to the risk I am taking, I don’t want my wife to know anything. I don’t anything happening to her because of me. When she asks me what I am up to, if it is something bad, I tell her not to worry, I say it is something good. Silence is sometimes necessary. Neither must I know their names, so the risk I take will be smaller. Nonetheless, I would give anything to know just one of them, to see just one of their faces. I wish I knew they are fine, that they are free again. The silence and the solitude weigh down on me, but it is for the best.
With sadness, I think there are things that are more important than others. My wish to know is not more important that other people’s freedom. When I think about the wall, my eyes fill with tears. We watched while it was being built, right before our eyes, and we didn’t lift a finger to prevent it. I had to witness how my friends got trapped. Maybe someday I will be discovered and end up in prison, but that doesn’t matter in the very least if I have given all these people back their freedom. No one will remember me, no one will know who I am, but that is not important either.
While I am thinking about all this, I stroke my incipient beard near my right jaw. I didn’t sleep much that night. Next thing I see is that I am preparing breakfast. My wife gets down wearing her uniform of skirt and jacket, and I ask her if she wants coffee. I look disheveled and I have decided I won’t go to work today. I ask my wife to come up with any excuse, to say I am ill or something. I seize the moment to go to the supermarket in the family car, while the wall and the people who crossed it are still present in my mind. I remember my grandfather. He used to say something like:
“Never be frightened of doing what you think is right”.
(Though my logical mind wanted to say “afraid to”, my intuitive mind insisted the word my grandfather said was “frightened”).
Yes, I am afraid, I can’t deny that. The consequences for me and my family can be disastrous. But I feel proud to be doing this. There are things that are more important than others, I tell myself again. They are beyond my own fear of my wife’s desire to know. There are things that must be done without expecting anything in return, without expecting any kind of recognition. The word “treason” comes to my mind. Treason is a very serious matter in the military field. I remember my youth, when we went to demonstrations against the construction of the wall. Back then I was even more rebellious, at least apparently. Because it is now when I am really risking my neck, but I do take the risk.
I will always say: how curious is the way our past lives intertwined with each other, and how we can always find inspiration in them to take action in our current life.