I don't know about the whole eincarnation thing, but I remember having a dream a couple of years ago that was unlike any I have had before or since.
It was like I was fully immersed in the experiences of another person. Here is what I know. It was America, somewhere hot, maybe a century (or two) ago. I was a black man, and I was standing in front of a group of people in what seemed like a church. I was being sentenced for something I did. Only a nearby priest seemed sympathetic. I remember just looking around at all their expresionless faces (as if it didn't matter that I was about to be hung) and feeling pure hatred towards them all (except the priest for some reason). I remember thinking that I did nothing wrong.
During the dream, I didn't see myself as you sometimes do. You know, as if you were the director and actor. It was more like a memory. I'm not saying that's what it was, but you never know. No dream has stuck with me like this one has.
Anyway, on to the second part, and I flashed forward to the actual hanging. All my feelings of anger and hatred were replaced by pure determination not to actually get hanged, and a little desperation. I remember at the last moment thinking that if I put my hands between the noose and my neck that I'll somehow survive. Anyway, they hung me. The next bit was the strangest bit yet. I "heard" a crack, and was extremely surprised at how little it hurt. Then I wasn't experiencing things from a single perspective any more. It was like I was experiencing things from the outside. I seemed to instinctively "know" all the people who were there watching the hanging. When I say know, it was like I could feel them. I felt sympathy for them. It was like I had a bird's eye view, and not just of the physical scene below me, but the mental scene. What they were thinking and feeling. I remember thinking that these people didn't really comprehend the fact that someone just died at their hands.
I distinctly remember feeling sorry for them all.
Then everything faded to white, and remember thinking I'm going to a better place. Then I woke up, freaked out as I was! The first thing I thought was that people aren't supposed to die in dreams. Anyway, never knew what to make of that one. I'm from Ireland, so the whole slavery thing isn't part of the history of my country, but I was aware of it, and at around that time I was reading To Kill a Mockingbird (one of the best books ever written, incidently), which is all about prejudice in the deep south, and centres on the trial of a black man for a crime he obviously didn't do.
Make of it what you will, fellow paracasters:
