1931_06_the_persistence_of_memory

One second more or less, will that make me richer or poorer in time? Yet, I happen to know decisions made in a split second or perhaps an incident that could occur in the same time frame have the power of changing everything. I try so hard to capture or speed up time, but it has its own pace despite my wishes.

So, I dip into time and try to exercise timelessness. Schrodinger’s Cat on my mind, I go to places my limited intelligence cannot comprehend. The heart does and gives me directions into my past lives beyond my current third dimensional reality.

I’m a pagan girl in a time not registered in time. I go to Göbeklitepe and dance to the tune of songs, sung by the pilgrims who come to the temple to worship nature, the animals and beasts. Surrounded by huge columns, with birds and animals carved on, I make offerings to the Gods and thank them for my blessings. A soldier takes my hand, puts a wreath of flowers on my head. We leave the temple and he takes me to his tent in the nearby hills.

Time changes and I’m in Africa, by the river Nile, crying tears of sorrow for my beloved Pharaoh. He has been taken ill and my life is at a standstill. All the medicines in the world cannot cure his ailment. They have poisoned him and there’s no antidote. His child in my belly, the heir to be born. I’m their next target, once my beloved is gone. I cannot leave him on his own and runaway yet, but I know a nomad village where my child and I will be safe.

I delve into Ramayana, in the temples of Bali, and run to the sea and wash my soul. I go to India and swim with my friends in the waters of Ganges, continue to Nepal and Tibet and become the lady who ages as she descends the mountain in The Lost Horizon.

A courtesan in the Ming court, a Japanese geisha in love with Shogun, and an Aborigine girl around Ayer’s Rock. A Maui singer in the Pacific, and a Polynesian who falls in love with Gauguin in Tahiti. I move on to the Island of Maui and see the volcano erupt in Hawaii. Many perish, but I’m saved by the fishermen and make my way into the Americas.

Inca, Aztec and Maya, I play ball in the courts of Chichen Itza. I move down south to Guatemala, Bolivia and Peru, and let the wise people guide me through their knowledge and magic revealed in the books of Castaneda.

I go on to Europe, move in the courts of Arthur, Ferdinand and Napoleon. Sometimes I’m a slave, sometimes a heretic they must burn, a princess, a courtesan, a peasant, a revolutionary or an ordinary wife struggling to raise a family. My Harem days in the Ottoman Court, come with a big return. I’m the mother of the Sultan’s second heir to the throne.

In the end, I reach Eden and see my great, great, and I don’t know how many times great, Grandmother sitting under the apple tree. She’s weeping, but there’s still love in her heart for me because I’m her great, great, and I don’t know how many times great, Granddaughter. The invisible ties of my mother’s mitochondrial DNA bring me to my origins. She hugs me and I fall asleep, weary of my travels.

I wake up before the alarm. I rise and look in the mirror. I see so many faces I do not know. I blink and rub my eyes. They disappear. I look at my reflection glancing back from the glass, and ask, “Who am I?”

 

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