The place I come from talking about past life/ incarnations is pretty common. They believe in the concept genuinely. I never gave it any thought. I was always indifferent to the idea. Sometimes you change and the other times life forces you to change the way you think. Meeting SS was one such experience.
I met SS last weekend. Eby had booked her place through AirBnB and we reached her place pretty late. The drive was an adventure in itself. It took us a while to get there. We got lost a couple of times. There were no lights, narrow roads, dirty cars parked on the road side and no cell phone connectivity. The only other car that we saw on the road was ahead of us and we decided to follow it blindly. A kilometer later we saw a black cat with emerald eyes in the rear seat. The eyes were sparkly, shiny and looked like a scene straight from a Stephen King novel.
We reached her place and I had this feeling that I had been there before. It was a lovely, cozy, comforting wood cabin in the mountains. Not surprising huh? Her house was covered in paintings and figurines.
The next day morning while we sat in her kitchen and looked outside the feeling of being there earlier felt pretty real. I asked SS about her collection of Hindu gods and she casually mentioned how she was born in India in her past lifetimes. It was a little odd at first because it is not the conversation starter for many of us. She is a professional Tarot card reader and I asked her for a reading.
This was my first time getting a Tarot reading done. The tarot is a snapshot in time. It all depends upon the reader. Sometimes it can feel spot on or in other words "accurate". A lot depends upon how you match what your reader tells you to the events that have happened. The kind of things that she told me were very very accurate. I felt a strange sensation with her in her camper and all of a sudden the whole setting felt unreal. Well to most of you it might feel that I am dramatizing the whole thing but there is no way of putting that experience in words. I felt a connection. Maybe I am overthinking it but I would rather live believing that there was/is something rather than shrugging it off.
She told me her story the next day. Her husband came back from Vietnam war and was suffering from PTSD. Every night he pointed his rifle on their heads and became abusive and thats when she decided to leave.
She packed her 3 kids in a car with $500 in her pocket. She was able to secure some land up in the mountains and used her alimony check ($35) every 2 weeks to pay it off. She became a self taught carpenter and worked on construction sites. She built her entire house on her own. She shared a lot of her life stories and each one of them inspired me. Those small moments left a lasting impression on me. I am just not able to decide what to write about? Spending time by the water in a secluded spot? Bon fire and toasting marshmallows? The countless stars in the sky? Eating fudge to the point nauseousness? Drinking countless cups of coffee? Hiking all the way to the top of the mountain to see and just be.
Meeting people and hearing their stories is my favorite part of travel. It just feels good to connect with people from different walks of life and share moments with them. I love how traveling to a place makes me feel and even if that means eating at the same cafe day after day. I was really cranky for some reason for a while and it was more to do with this.
One of the days during our trip we were really exhausted and decided to buy a bottle of rum. That same night we had a few pegs of spiced rum and talked about our good old days. People, places, memories, sadness, longing, love etc etc and that moment for me was pure bliss. It was like playing my favorite old records and singing along. Life felt good in that moment. It felt like home.