The Antique Dealer And The Possibilities We've Lived Before

A FEELING OF HAVING BEEN REINCARNATED - FROM THE ANTIQUE DEALER OF ONCE, LONG AGO

A FEW ANTIQUE DEALERS WONDER ABOUT THIS - BASED ON THEIR LOVE FOR CERTAIN PERIODS OF HISTORY

     WHEN YOU HAVE HAD AN INTIMATE AUDIENCE WITH A GUARDIAN ANGEL, NOTHING ETHEREAL AFTER THIS SEEMS PARTICULARLY STRANGE. ACCORDING TO CONSIDERABLE RESEARCH I'VE DONE ABOUT THESE EARTHLY ENCOUNTERS, WITH THE SO CALLED "ANGEL-KIND," YOU BECOME SO ENLIGHTENED, AND RESOLVED ABOUT THE EXISTENCE OF AN AFTERLIFE, THAT YOU CAN'T EVER AGAIN SHRINK BACK TO THE SAME OLD, SAME OLD. YOU ARE NOT CAPABLE OF PROFOUND, DEBILITATING IGNORANCE, ABOUT THE EXISTENCE OF THE SOUL. YOUR WHOLE BELIEF STRUCTURE…..WHAT YOU KNOW AND WHAT YOU THINK YOU KNOW, IS CHANGED IN A MATTER, OF WHAT MAY, HAVE ONLY BEEN A FEW SECONDS OF DREAMLAND ENVISIONING. WHEN I WAS IN A FEVERED STATE, DURING ONE TERRIBLE CHILDHOOD ILLNESS, AND DREAMED OF BEING IN THE PRESENCE OF AN ANGEL, WINGS AND ALL, I BECAME AN INSTANT BELIEVER IN LIFE AFTER DEATH. NO, REALLY! BUT IT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH PERSONAL CONVICTION. IT WAS IMBEDDED. RIGHT INTO THE SOUL. THE ANGEL, AS SWEET AND EFFERVESCENT AS SHE WAS, GAVE ME MY OPINION. THERE WASN'T AN OPTION FOR DISBELIEVING. BUT IT WAS SO COMPELLING AND AMAZING, THAT FREEDOM OF OPINION DIDN'T MATTER. DEMOCRACY WASN'T IMPORTANT. MY ALLEGIANCE WAS TO THIS MESSENGER FROM GOD. THE RELEVANCE OF BEING ABLE TO CROSS OVER, WAS ALL THAT MATTERED…..AND YET, I WAS JERKED BACK, AFTER I HAD EXPERIENCED THAT BEAUTIFUL, COMFORTING LIGHT. HONESTLY, I THOUGHT I WAS A GONER. I FELT HORRIBLE, AND I KNOW MY PARENTS WERE PLANNING TO SEND ME TO HOSPITAL THAT NIGHT, IF THERE HAD BEEN NO IMPROVEMENT, ESPECIALLY, A DECREASE IN MY FEVER. BUT DURING THOSE HEAVENLY MOMENTS, I FELT RELIEVED OF ALL DISCOMFORT….WHICH BY THE WAY, HAD BEEN SO NASTY, IT HAD ENTERED MY DREAMS. THIS WAS THE ONLY RELIEF I HAD EXPERIENCED IN ABOUT TWO WEEKS, AND WHEN I AWOKE, THE FEVER HAD SUBSIDED. MERLE TOLD ME HER PRAYERS HAD BEEN ANSWERED. I DIDN'T REALLY KNOW WHAT A PRAYER WAS, BUT I KNEW GOD WAS INVOLVED SOMEHOW, AT LEAST AS FAR AS MERLE WAS CONCERNED. I NEVER, AT ANY POINT, TOLD MY PARENTS ABOUT THIS WEE VISIT WITH AN ANGEL.

    I DIDN'T COME FROM A RELIGIOUS FAMILY AND THE ONLY REASON I WENT TO CHURCH, WAS OUT OF CURIOSITY. BUT THE EXPERIENCE I HAD, WHICH WAS AMAZING BY THE WAY, CREATED A FLAME IN ME, AS A BELIEVER IN THAT HEAVENLY LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL. THIS DREAM ENCOUNTER HAPPENED BEFORE I WAS EIGHT YEARS OLD. I'M FIFTY SEVEN, AND I CAN RECALL THAT DREAMLAND EXPERIENCE AS IF IT HAS JUST HAPPENED. MUSIC WITHOUT THERE BEING A MUSICIAN. AN UNEARTHLY PERFUME THAT I IMAGINED, BUT HAVE NEVER SMELLED AGAIN. UNEARTHLY IS EXACTLY HOW I WOULD DESCRIBE IT. FEELING A SENSE OF PEACE AND TRANQUILITY, WHILE LEVITATING IN HER PRESENCE, BUT BEING UNABLE TO MOVE MY ARMS OR LEGS. A LIGHT ABOVE HER THAT WAS WHITER THAT ANY LIGHT I'VE SEEN BEFORE, YET IT DID NOT HURT THE EYES. SENSING SOMETHING ABOUT DEATH, AT A TIME IN LIFE, WHEN I REALLY DIDN'T HAVE A CLUE ABOUT WHAT THE END MIGHT BE LIKE. I HAD THE RECKONING I WAS ON THE VERGE OF THE ABYSS, BUT I WAS PULLED BACK FROM DEMISE BY THE POWER OF THIS ANGEL, WHICH I HAVE LONG ASSUMED WAS MY HEAVENLY GUARDIAN. SO WHY DO I RE-TELL THIS STORY, I'VE WRITTEN ABOUT MANY TIMES BEFORE? I'M GOING TO PUT IT IN PERSPECTIVE, OF THE ANTIQUE DEALER I'VE BECOME.

REINCARNATION ISN'T SO FAR FETCHED

     I remember, one morning, quite a few years ago, scrounging through my archives looking for some documents I had mislaid. I was writing one of my regular columns for that week's issue of Muskoka Today, and I suppose, that day, I was suffering from an absence of story-line. Son Andrew had left me a couple of classical records to play on his portable, which seemed like a nice diversion. I don't write anything these days, with any music playing, because I did find out that it was changing my mood, and seriously affecting the content of the subject editorial. But on this occasion, suffering from a total lack of creativity, I cleaned off a record of Elizabethan music, and sat down at my desk, staring at my typewriter, while the music took me on an enjoyable sojourn for twenty minutes or so. Maybe it has happened to you, when for no particular reason that you can identify easily, or obviously, you can feel a strange, eerie trepidation, as if all of a sudden, your senses were picking up a vibe that was more haunting than entertaining. As if you accidentally stumbled, like Alice in Wonderland, onto a hidden portal to some other life you may have once been associated. The soul-regenerating sounds of this music, was causing a big guy like me, to tremble, and feel somewhat as I had, in the company of my angel guardian, during that childhood illness. I sensed this music was calling me home, to a place my soul had been witness, in a previous life. It was as if I could see my place in that English scene, and feel myself walking down a cobbled lane, through some city quarter……possibly taking my walk to the antique shop I may have operated even then. They might call it a feeling of deja-vu, and leave it at that, without any attached explanation, as to why these feelings are so pervasive, and usually unexpected.

     I listened to that record a half dozen times, that morning, and did write a column all about the strange sensations I experienced, as if a not-so-subtle message, that "yes Ted, these were the days of your past life." The feeling had a definite sadness attached, that like standing in front of an angel, even for this well travelled wordsmith, would be hard to write about, such that it would make sense to you. All I can offer, as an explanation, is that it felt as if I was hugely homesick, for a place, time, and kinship, I must have had in a previous life. Now for people who believe in reincarnation, my story isn't exceptional and all that interesting, compared to what they may have gathered as research, to support their feelings about having lived before. It's not that I had never heard Elizabethan period music before this occasion, in my archives, but it was clearly the first time, the message was aggressive…..as if it was being made clear to me, by something ethereal, that I needed to appreciate just how long my mortal coil has been, from one century to the next. It seemed, at that moment, imperative that I understood what it all meant, to have a soulful link with the ages.

    I did on that occasion, draw back to my guardian angel, as I have on many occasions since. I don't think it was a voluntary remembrance. As I clearly recall, staring into the light of an angel's heavenly glow, I was being reminded, you see, of the importance of enlightenment in perpetuity……possibly because it was assumed by the higher-ups, that I was forgetting too much, too soon, about the meaning of life, as it had been presented to me, that night on my sick-bed. So not only did I write this rather strange column about my new belief in reincarnation, which was a little bit like hacking down a corn field, to build a baseball diamond, like in the movie, "Field of Dreams." I needed to be so convinced of this, that I would be willing to take the ridicule of readers for my "coming out" about my belief in "many lives lived." I never had one call, or letter calling me a nut-bar. I had about a dozen readers, who claimed to feel validated, as they had experienced similar paranormal events……but hadn't spoken of them, for fear of criticism. I understand this, but when I wrote this particular column, it was as if there was no option. It was pre-determined it was going to be written. It was the reason my son gave me two classical records, earlier that day, and why he left his record player out for me to use. Maybe it wasn't for my own enlightenment, as such, but rather, for one of those readers, that week, who would come to face some life-altering circumstance, and need their faith in that eternal light, to guide them, to the other side. Who knows? The point is, I have had thousands of deja-vu experiences in my life, which frankly, I believe began with that visiting angel; and the sensation of homesickness prevails often, under the right circumstances, and can be triggered by morning light, a setting sun, seeing an illuminated lamp in a window of an old farmhouse, a picture of an English moor, or a picturesque castle…..or the hauntingly familiar music that a Queen might find soothing yet inspiring, in a more historic time.

     The reason I have written this blog, which I suppose, as a sort of, second "coming out" on the issue, of my personal belief in reincarnation, is that it does parallel my interests in both history, antiques and writing about both. I have long believed in life after death, and the ability of those who have crossed over, to communicate with the living. I am a faithful but ever-questioning admirer of Medium John Edward, because I know what he means to validate friends and family who have passed. I was doing this years before I knew anything about John Edward, who had a well viewed television show, early in this century, called "Crossing Over." I often talk to the deceased, and I could write my own book, on the messages they send back. There isn't one thing eerie or haunting about it, but believe me, there is great personal contentment, having my communication with them, validated routinely, in some very strange ways. So for me to believe in reincarnation, isn't much of a stretch for a guy who admits to talking to dead people, and who has been within arm's reach of an angel. I'm one of the most conservative people on earth, and as far as being rational, well, even my wife…..who believe me, has seen it all, will vouch for the fact, I don't drink, take drugs, lick mushrooms for a buzz, or have any ulterior motive, for making these claims. I have no church affiliation, and the only time the name "Christ" was used in my parents' home, was when Ed toppled over the Christmas tree……by making one last adjustment to the star; every year of my childhood. So I have no religious gain to make. Just a story to spin, and another chapter of biography to publish, for my boys and grandchildren down the road. Will they think poppa was a nutter? Probably. But that doesn't matter. The story does!

     I have some stories upcoming, that hopefully will better illustrate my claims, by offering some validating examples, and occurrences, that seemed rather unearthly…..at the time, and even in retrospect…..more than just a little odd. Here's a little gem right now. The other day, Suzanne accused me of breaking a tiny music box, she had bought at a second hand shop the Sunday before. The round blue container, with lid, is exactly like what my mother Merle had, sitting on her dresser, when I was a kid. When my father passed away, and we were responsible for cleaning out their apartment (my mother had died a year earlier), I commented to Suzanne that it was odd, the old music box was missing. I loved lifting the lid on the music box, and I remember it played "Blue Danube." So when Suzanne purchased this similarly designed container, it did bring back my recollection of Merle's keepsake, and I could visualize it on the top of her high green dresser. Anyway, a customer had wound the one Suzanne had bought, too tight, and it took a lot of lubrication and patience to get it working again. Even then, it would stick at the halfway point, in winding-down. I sat in the shop for an hour trying to fix it, and finally, I said to my mother, "Merle, I need your help. If there is truly life after death, please show me, by fixing this music box, so it can play through the entire song." I held it in my palm, lifted the lid carefully, to release the plunger slowly, and immediately, the music began to play. In fact, it played completely through, until there was no tension left in the spring. I told Andrew and Robert what I had done, and what result I had just witnessed, and in the hubbub of a busy retail operation, that day, they both nodded, "That's nice dad. Is Merle in this room?" "Well, if she was, she'd make you pick up the mess," I quipped, while winding the box up again, and repeating the process one more time for good luck. That's when, again, I confirmed my belief in the actions and reactions of those who have crossed over. The darn think stuck again, and even when I shook it, and rapped on the bottom with vigor, it refused to play. Yet only a few moments earlier, it had played at the right speed, and all the way through; after being jammed tightly and unable to unwind. So was there some kind of divine intervention? If I was looking for validation, in my opinion, based on thousands of similar events, I got it that morning.

     Back in the spring of 1974, I travelled with a school band to England, to play a series of concerts, at schools in communities north of London. We actually stayed for a few days in Nottingham, and I got to run around Sherwood Forest, and Nottingham Castle, and I was even introduced to the Sheriff of Nottingham. I stood on the base of the statue, depicting Robin Hood himself, and heard the amusing anecdote, that the reason he didn't have his arrow positioned in the bow, was that American tourists kept swiping it as a souvenir. During my several week stay in England, I knew I was home. I couldn't explain the sensations, and it was a long time yet, before I knew much about the dimensions of reincarnation, and its implications to the well travelled soul……as far as random deja vu events, and questions of familiar haunts…..that honestly, in England, left me feeling as if I had re-discovered roots…..some of them buried in the centuries' old cemeteries. It was beyond familiarity, and was quite unsettling, as if I knew where everything was in London, without ever having been there before, or having consulted a city map. You see, and I have kidded about this with Suzanne, that I might have been an antique dealer in different bodies, throughout British history. I might have even been the character Charles Dickens modeled "Old Joe," after, in his story, "A Christmas Carol." Who knows. But my trip to England was easy. My withdrawal from its embrace, at the end of our trip, was heart breaking. My soul appeared to be rebelling, against going back to the colony.

     In the antique trade, many dealers have strange feelings of deja vu, when handling estates, and visiting other countries around the world. Possibly these feelings of having well travelled souls, does influence us, to collect antiques from certain periods of time, that for some reason, offers unspecified, undetermined interest and inspiration. It has often been said, that antique dealers have old souls to go along with their old stuff. Join me again, for a wee retrospective at what spirit-play, has contributed, to the making of an antique dealer.

     Thanks so much for joining this little biographical blog today. It's always nice to have you over for a visit. If you have a particular interest in the subject of reincarnation, the paranormal, angels, and well, old souls, you will want to make a return visit over the next week, as I take you for an ethereal vacation from status quo. Fare Thee Well! God speed.

Please visit my other blog at http://muskokaaswaldenpond.blogspot.ca