First I wish to make my position clear, I do not BELIEVE in reincarnation, It has always been an intriguing possibility but sad people claiming to have been well known historical figures do not help. Why someone famous? Given the proportion of famous characters to the general hoi-polloi or even the landed gentry means that you are more likely to have been a farmer, a stockbroker, a shopkeeper or a peasant. If you lived in other places in a previous life you would, in all likelihood have been a lowly tribesman rather than a king. You may never have got through birth or childhood. Claiming to have been Cleopatra just made me even more positive that it didn’t exist.
The capitalisation in the first sentence is important because I have given the matter more thought. I still do not believe per se but a child was recently added to my family. She is a delightful little girl, my granddaughter actually. It is her who has prompted the rethink.
I will tie all this in later but many older people had a way, when I was a child, of giving you a look that indicated you had been silly, or asked a stupid question. This look could also indicate that they were not happy with you. It was a look which was unnerving to say the least. It said ‘I have years of wisdom and you are a silly little boy.’.
I have also wondered what makes us US. We can think but we also have distinct and very different personalities. The Soul if you will. Where is it? I don’t know. Is it a separate entity housed within the body or is it just the way your brain’s internal electrical impulses interact with it’s external inputs? No idea. The big question for my purposes is, if it is a separate entity, can it be transferred? Is it programmed to search, on the death of one host body, for another one? Or is there some cosmic waiting area where souls are allocated new bodies.? Again I don’t know. So, not belief then but a lot of thought.
There is also an idea, though I don’t know where it came from, that some children are merely old souls sent to offer some kind of guidance to younger, less experienced ones. The idea of an old soul is the main thing I wish my readers to understand from this paragraph.
So what was all that about my granddaughter then? Quite simply she is, most of the time, a happy blonde bubbly little girl. Then, occasionally, her face becomes very serious and she will give me a look of such withering scorn that I can’t believe it can come from a toddler. She could outstare a rattlesnake and you are in no doubt that you are being Looked at (The capital is intended!). The last time someone looked at me like that they were very old.
So does my dear little granddaughter have an old soul which sometimes looks out through her eyes? I don’t know but it certainly makes me think.