I have a number of "other life" memories, including a few extremely detailed and vivid dreams. I don't actually think they were all "my" lives, and I'm not even sold on the traditional view of reincarnation, anyway, which seems extremely dogmatic to me. I don't discount the possibilty of some form of "multi-incarnation", but the standard view seems far too limited to me, given the illusion that is time and space.

Since I don't really know what these visions, dreams, memories, whatever are or what they might mean to me, if anything at all, I tend not to put too much weight on them. I just accept the story, if it comes to me, and leave it at that. There are a couple of them to whom I feel somewhat close, or for whom I have particular compassion, and maybe that's why I was shown their story, I don't know. I have no clue what it has to do with "me". I'm just one of the infinite stories within the wholeness of Consciousness, too, so for all I know, Consciousness is just using some sort of matching algorithm and my brain is wired in such a way that I pick up on it. Who knows?

I used to take it all very seriously, and tried to connect things ("Oh, so that's why I hate having cold feet!" or "That explains my fear of [whatever]" or "That's why I hate dogma so much!" and so on). I dunno, maybe there is some connection. I can't say. Now, though, I just let the stories of other lives be what they are, and I honour them as stories of other lives, and that's pretty much it. Such is life. Or, I guess, such are lives.