My Past Lives

Now for some hardcore writing.

In all my memories all 5 senses are never present the entire time, I’ll only see, hear, smell, feel, taste or see certain things at certain times and the more I focus on a certain aspect of the memory, or certain senses, the clearer and stronger it gets. I believe this is simply because this is a memory, and all my memories of this life and previous ones are recalled in bits and pieces, its never re-experienced as a whole unless it is a dream…which is not a memory at all.

This specific memory is really detailed, so I thought I’d do it justice and write about them as it is. (Don’t worry, all of them wont be like this so you won’t have to read a novel with every new post.)

Life number 1

Surprisingly, the first memory I have of my past lives isn’t a birth or a death, which is usually where my flashbacks start. This time it starts randomly and I’ve never been able to look past it to what came before.

It starts with myself looking down at a hole full of murky water which looked as through I had dug it out myself. The hands that were scooping up the muck were mine and were covered in mud, gnarled and one palm looked very rough, covered in calices. The water was too muddy to show me my reflection.

The water tasted horrible and I coughed a lot when the soil and reeds in it caught my throat. As I wiped my arm across my mouth I noticed the rough dreadlock tied around my wrist with a small bone (from a bird or a fish maybe) tied into it, it must have been some kind of jewelry or decoration.
When I leaned back I saw that I was kneeling. I watched as my hand reached down and across to grasp a length of wood which I’d had tucked tight beside my thighs. I had a glimpse of animal fur across my knees before I pushed myself to my feet. I heard my knees click and I grumble something in a frustrated tone.
I felt my weight shift as I placed the stick over my shoulder, it was long and heavier at one end from the feel of it. I looked back at the length of it and found that there was a gazelle hanging limply from it, tied around the legs. I rotated and adjusted the wood, which I now knew was a spear, and coughing, I lurched forward and realized then that I had a heavy limp in my right leg.
From the look of things I wasn’t injured, I was just old. It made sense with the effort it took to do anything and the gnarled appearance of my hands. I probably had arthritis.

(I remember the first time I saw this, I thought it wasn’t right, that I was making it up because the last thing I expected was to be an old hunter drinking from a ditch. I tried multiple times to find the “correct” memory when it clicked that this was me and that if I wanted to keep regressing I had to accept it (which I don‘t think I have done as of yet, not subconsciously anyways.). I don’t know what I had expected when I finally looked back this far, probably something “more” than a thirsty man carrying a dead gazelle. But once I got past my disappointment this next part of the memory easily met my expectations.)


When I wasn’t hunched over or coughing I caught glimpses of where I was. I was traveling across a grassland covered in what I think, from the way it rippled in the wind, might have been wild wheat. Ahead of me, there was a hill in the distance and on top of it was a structure of some kind that stood out above all else. It was so far away that the fact that I could see it meant that it had to be large, and I was heading straight toward it. I seemed to be rushing and getting to my destination, that lone landmark on the hill, seemed to be an important and urgent thing because I had been wheezing for some time without even slowing down to catch my breath.

Eventually I was less than a hundred meters away. I’ve never seen anything like that structure in this lifetime or any lifetime since the first few I remember. It comprised of a number of short walls, each about 5 feet tall and they were arranged in circles around the hilltop. There were other people there, I counted seven at least but I was too far away to see them clearly.

Anyhow, I struggled up the hill for a good 10 minutes, grumbling all the while and finally made it to the top. At that point I could see at least 20 people around the hilltop. There were more women than men there, which surprised me for some reason.
Everyone was busy working on the stone wall about 12 feet away, people were constantly moving and passing rocks around their circle to add to the structure. I didn’t take a very good look around, my eyes fixed on one specific woman on the far side of the wall and lurched over to her.

She was old, her hair gray and her skin looking like battered leather. She wore the same animal skins as I did, all tied about her waist and hanging down.
I made a yipping sort of sound and she turned from the wall and her eyes seemed to light up. She recognized me and stood up instantly to put her hands on either side of my face, look me in the eyes and say something that involved lots of tongue rolling and clicking. She seemed very stern, but happy and warm at the same time and it was clear that we were close. I gave a low bark of laughter to whatever she said and deliberately smoothed my thumb over her brow.

It was only then that it clicked that she must have been my “wife.”

She untied the gazelle and slung it over her shoulders and said something to me quietly. I followed her down the hill to what looked like a small camp-site, there were a number of skins laid out as beds and a rack with ducks tied to it nearby.

The last thing I always see of this memory is her laying down the gazelle and us both taking sharp rocks to it, all the while gesturing and chattering to each other in a way that is still very familiar to the way my lover and I interact these days.

So in this life I was a hunter with a partner and perhaps children. I lived in a fertile place with a group of other hunters and gatherers and we were building a structure on a hilltop that was absolutely huge. As of yet there were no metal tools to be seen or domesticated animals or pottery or agriculture or even a proper language….so I think it would be safe to assume this was during the Stone Age.

Wow, that was so interesting!


I could read this kind of stuff all day.... Thanks for doing this and letting us read this stuff. I've never remembered a past life (perhaps I did as a child but those memories are long gone for now) but past lives are incredibly interesting to me.