Past Lives: A Conversation

Roman legionI used to write dialogue from my life. I’m going to try this again…

I spoke with, Jilly, before my husband came home from taking care of his mother.  We were talking about she met him. This would have been about twelve years ago. She walked in the room to meet him and he looked at her, “You owe me a legion,” he said.

I recalled this with her, stating that it was their first exchange.  “This is my husband, Jilly. You know I am a jealous son of a bitch. I could see there was something between you, not a threat to me, but something was going on…”

So we had that conversation and then my husband comes home and starts spitting…

‘Well, I told, Jilly about when you first met her and told her she owed you legion.”

“Well, she does.”

“She knows it.  She does not deny it.”

“She can’t deny it. She owes me a motherfuckin’ legion, she promised it to me.”

I stared.  “Well I didn’t think you had a romance.”

“We never did. We knew each other as teenagers. We rode horses sometimes. She married someone.”

I stared.

“I was the son of a commander. She was the daughter of some dude, she was an empress or some shit. She became a queen, basically. I became the commander. She promised me a legion and she did not deliver it.


“I was killed in battle. No legion showed up! It’s her fault and she knows it. She owes me that legion and one day I will collect on that debt.”

“I think she’ll pay it.”

“Yes, she will.  ‘Cause if she ever does that to me again, she’s going to have a problem.”

Jilly aggress with all of this. He also says, she’s was just like she is now. She’s not changed a lick!

He says she’s always been a goofball, but you don’t go promising a MF’er a legion, then not follow through!


Past Lives: A Conversation — 4 Comments

  1. I was reminded of something on another post: there was someone who said they were ‘missing a lobe’…l took that to mean they gave no value to, or completely dismissed, the idea of past lives. l dont want to argue if they are ‘real’ or not. l am more about what they can teach us…think dreams or metaphor (l think ‘pastlives’ come from the same place 12 hse business). ‘You owe me a legion’ … made me smile. Please dont judge the legion l fought with, by the old soldiers that hung out back. Overall we were a pretty successful fighting force. What this all means as metaphor –l have my theories.

  2. Haha, great story! At least she didn’t owe him 3 legions, as Emperor Augustus had nightmares about after Varus got wiped out with all hands in the German Forest….

  3. I spent my first three years in this life halfway between my last life and the new one. I remember forever not being sure what was ‘real’ and what was ‘imagined’. I remember tossing cups, kicking sand and eating grass, just to find out what ‘real’ is. The smell of open fire sent me fleeing in terror, although I had not had any encounter with fire in this life. It was confusing. Even the people who were ‘real’, I kind of thought they would pop out of reality like the ones I imagined. Still, it took me a long time to acknowledge the possibility of ‘past lives’, my Capricorn Mercury would not have it, it insisted on everything having ‘practical use and value’.

    About a year after my husband passed over, I had a dream. I dreamed that I climbed a mountain, alone. It took much longer than I thought when starting off, midway were some stark obstacles and I thought I’d lost my way. But I had seen a little village halfway up and knew I had to reach it, asap.

    Reaching it in after dark, I was surprised there was a typical mountain inn, wood structure, lit up, doors open. Inside were people, many rooms but no one in charge, everyone was camping, sleeping, eating, chatting as they pleased. People were friendly, shared their food but I knew I was there for a purpose – to find something. I went from room to room, knowing that once I see ‘it’, I will know ‘THAT is what I m here for !’

    I fell asleep, woke up and walked toward a glass sliding door that led to a veranda at the back of the building – I was sure it hadnt been there the night before. As I approached the door, I saw my husband on the other side, through the glass. My first impulse was to rush and open the door, then I stood and just looked. His glance moved across the door and there was a slight stop – then looking away and shaking his head. I did not move. He started walking away. Now that he turned his back to me, I opened the door and followed him at a distance.

    The mountain and the village I had climbed and reached the night before had been a typical European alpine scenery. Now I found myself in Nepal or Bhutan, as I knew it from pictures and movies. And I remembered that he – all his life – was pulled to that place, often saying he wants to go there one day – but when I said ‘Let’s go’ his answer was always ‘Not now, maybe later.’

    I saw him, as I knew him, climbing a path away from the building, up the mountain entering one of the small houses built into the montainside. I realised that I was in foreign territory and had no idea how to get back to the place I started from the night before. There was a moment of fear, a moment of wanting to reach out to him for safety. Then I saw a child stepping out of the house he had entered, a boy of 2 or 3 climbing down the wooden stairs.

    I understood something at this moment – and the understanding took all my fear away. If he can enter this house and turn into a child…well, I knew it was him. He was finally where he had always wanted to be.

    I turned and went inside the ‘hotel’ again, across the hallway and out the entrance door. You know what? I was right. I found myself in the village as I knew it from the night before.

    I wish I could write stories like this at will, but I can’t. I can only live in a way that allows, every once in a while, a dream like this. And for me, it was dead sure proof of ‘future lives’ and thus also ‘past life’. I am not searching for it, it just is – and the consequence is that I am more open to receive encounters with places and people being loaded with memory I did not know had.

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