I remember being in the kitchen of some kind of old stone manor or castle that I used to live in, and looking out of a window which was set into the gray stone wall, over a sort of roughly-hewn wooden table, which was strewn with all sorts of kitchen utensils, bits of food, platters, fish heads and some flour, and seeing a small flock of long-haired white sheep milling around on a very green lawn.
In another life, the second of which (and my favorite of which to remember, I'm almost sorry to say) I can remember most clearly, I remember being outside on a very hot summer's day. At first, like when I first began having this memory, I never thought that it could get really hot, especially on the steppes of Russia, during the Stone Age. But during my meditation practices, when this random memory began to show itself to be in better and better clarity, it
was summer and very hot, and something else in my current mindset told me that it was as hot then as it used to be when I lived in the United States, years ago, and it would easily get to be about forty-five degrees Celsius every summer and sometimes stay around that temperature for weeks. Then, I started checking around on the Internet, on scientific websites and the like, to see if it might have still gotten that hot, at least sometimes, in Europe during ancient times. At least a couple of websites I looking at said that it possibly did get very hot in the summertime back then, even in places like Ukraine and Russia. And apparently it still gets beastly hot out on the steppes sometimes, just like in North Carolina. But anyway. I digress, as usual. :butbut:
I remember the process, in that lifetime, of bending down pretty low to get out of the round house my family and I resided in, which, as I've mentioned before in other posts (I just like to mention it again, to get a better feeling for the place myself, whenever I'm writing about it), was constructed of what I assume to be mammoth bones, animal hides, and possible stone as well, especially around the base. Maybe even some wood as well, because I believe I can recall seeing some long, weathered-looking (almost resembling driftwood), crooked tree branches, or maybe even entire small trees with knotted-up roots at the ends. A few of the mammoth bones which were visible underneath their covering of animal hide, possibly also from a mammoth, were cracked and splintered in a few places. And it comes to me now, all of a sudden, that the bones used to construct this house might have been quite old. Maybe even very old, maybe even up to a generation old, because I don't get the feeling that the people in my family were nomads. We kept our house in good repair, or else freeze to death in the winter, but the main bones used to construct the thing were probably never changed. Just things like the hide covering, and this and that. Little things.
Anyway. I digressed again, even though I told myself that I would cease to do that!
What is the matter with me this morning!? I fear that too much coffee has scrambled my brain. The one special random memory that I originally meant to share with you guys in this post was one in which I bent down, as I already said, moved aside a portion of the heavy animal skin curtain, squinted into the brightness of daylight which assaulted me, and stepped out of the round mammoth bone house. It was high summer, and very hot outside. It had been somehow quite cool indoors, but I started sweating almost as soon as I got out into the fresh air. There was a little warm wind, and I was wearing less clothes, on that day, than I hardly ever did in that life, since it was usually so cold for most of the year. I could feel the sun, beating down on my bare shoulders and burning them. I had a good, brown tan, and my hair was bleached a little from the sun.
There the immediate flashback ends, but now I find myself wondering if that flashback might be related, even by mere minutes, to another flashback I had of the same sort of weather, and the mother I had in that life walking towards me, as I came out of the house, holding a large bunch of stinging nettles in her hands by the roots...?
