I am firmly convinced that we do not live only once on this Earth blessed by God.

I strongly believe that I have already had many experiences.

How can I explain, otherwise, that my heart beats out of rhythm at certain landscapes in the world? Landscapes that I have never visited in my current existence, but that I contemplate as old acquaintances.

How to explain that listening to a certain language, other than the one of my native country, it provokes my brain and I feel as if I know all those words, that I know how to pronounce all those verbs?

Landscapes, sounds, people. Suddenly, everything starts happening in my mind like multiple memories. They are not very clear, but no less authentic.

I seem that to remember landscapes of Gaul, with its cults, beliefs, its Druid priests.

I wander through the Loire Valley, among castles, as if it were days lived, suffered, past.

The pyramids of Egypt, the sands of the desert, kings, slaves, nations that fight each other.

Asia, Oceania, Europe. Where have I been in so many and multiplied lives, among many possessions or in near poverty?

With access to the achievements of the intellect or illiterate, among the ignored people?

How many garments would I have worn? One of power or submission. Velvet cloaks, crowns, rags that barely covered the body.

Have I lived in reclusion in monasteries, mountains? Or free, in populated cities?

Memory does not allow full access to everything I was, everything I experienced.

But as the Apostle Paul used to say, Thank God I am what I am. Therefore, I dare to raise my head and dream.

Dreaming about my return to this blessed land. Who knows when that will be. Maybe decades. Or centuries.

It does not matter. I think and plan what I want for when I return.

I will certainly return to the blessed Land because I recognize that I have not paid up to the last farthing, as the wise of man of Nazareth warned.

And if in this life, I learned to be dazzled with the architectural beauty of ancient buildings, which have survived the test of time, who knows, perhaps I can return as someone who, as the new Maecenas, will be able to restore so many of those rotten through time.

If I now fulfill my soul by listening to music that fills my ears, perhaps I can return as someone dedicated to the art of music. I will, who knows, be a virtuoso on the violin, the cello, the piano...

Or maybe I can return with a magic flute stuck in my throat and release my voice in all tones, in capricious scales.

Perhaps, like Bach, one day, I will be able to say that I was born to praise God, through the most sublime arias, performed masterfully, captivating souls in ecstasy.

Or I will return as an excellent painter who will reproduce on canvas magnificent landscapes from another dimension, interviews in dreaming nights.

I think and dream. In fact, the most important thing is to know that I will be back.

I will return to these fields on the blue planet and I will love the homeland where I will be reborn. You may even need to learn a new language.

A new learning.

However, certainly, on bright nights, I will look at the heavens, contemplate the stars, identify other worlds, celestial abodes that await me in the distant future.

Moment Spiritist Team.
March 20.2024