Living Off the Slab Blog
Past Lives

Do you every wonder what comes after this life? Is there simply a never-ending sea of black silence? Do we spend eternity in some predetermine paradise or purgatory? Or perhaps our souls are recycled, returning again and again until we gain enlightenment.

I have no idea what comes next and do not think we are meant to know. Having the afterlife hidden from us places a greater meaning on this existence.

But occasionally, something happens that makes me scratch my head in wonder. Just such an occurrence happened while I was returning home from my Alaska trip back in 2017.

Traveling though Montana, I saw the signs for the Little Bighorn National Monument. I had not planned on going to the site of Custer’s Last Stand, but that proverbial little voice inside my head directed me to take the offramp.

As I did, I suddenly became emotional, welling up inside. I was not sure why but the closer I got the Monument, the stronger this feeling became.

Before I continue, let me give you some background. Some of you may way be aware, but I am sure most are not, that my wife Cathy is a retired chiropractor that now makes her living as a spiritual medium. Yes, she talks to dead people. Cathy is a staunch believer in reincarnation; that we have all had many lifetimes, possibly in multiple dimensions.

As I alluded to above, I do not spend much time thinking about such things. I respect her beliefs as well as the beliefs of others. However, it seems to me that whatever comes next, our purpose here and now is to live a good, moral life, learning from our experiences.

A few years back I was suffering from a blotchy, rash like condition on my shins. I went to several doctors, they did biopsies and tests, but could not find a cause nor anything to alleviate the condition.

In an effort to help, my wife suggested that I see a woman who was a spiritual teacher specializing in past lives. I figured, what the hell and scheduled a session.

During this encounter, I was told that the cause of my condition was due to a past life trauma. The red blotches on my shins represented the blood that I was wading through, carrying a fallen comrade. I tried in vain to save his life as well as my own but was unsuccessful. This guilt was the root of my affliction. The healers, best guess was that this happened during the civil war.

Far out? Yes, I know but considering that the doctor’s and all of their test could not give me any better answer, I took the reading for what it was worth and did not think about it again until the summer of 2017. The condition did resolve itself several months after my reading.

As I rode around the monument’s circular path, listening to the self-guided tour describing the fate of Custer’s troops, I continued to fight back the over-whelming emotion. There was one spot in particular that became very intense for me.

In all of my travels, I have been to some amazing locations of great beauty and historical importance, but I have never been to a location that gave me such an over-whelming feeling that I had been there before. As I stood there, looking at the fields where so many men fell, my encounter with the healer became forefront in my memory. Perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps, I was not involved in the civil war. Instead, maybe in some past life, I was at the site of one of the greatest massacres in U.S. history?

Is there any way to know for sure? Of course not, just as there is no way to know if God exists or if there is a heaven or hell. We must take it all on faith. All I know, is that I have never felt anything like this overwhelming sense of Deja vu previously or sense.

Sometimes when we mount our bikes and head to the open road, we find things unexpected.

Sometimes we find ourselves.

Ride safe my friends!
--Craig Ripley

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