Life as A Mediterranean 'Wise' Man

I lived one of my Earthly incarnations on a small Mediterranean island. According to my worldview in that bodymind, the dress of my community members, and the technology available to us at that time, I would say that this was probably in a time within the first millennium after Jesus, after Mohammed, after the fall of the Western Roman Empire, about a thousand years ago. The small sea-side village I lived in on this craggy mountain island was very patriarchical and religious. The village based its existence on its fishing industry—the bountiful fish harvests and the highly prized byproduct, fish oil—though small herd animals and other vegetable staples were grown in the craggy hillsides and along goat paths above and behind us, as well. Our people were dark-haired, olive-skinned, and dressed in the solid cotton, linen or woolen cloths that draped our bodies in layers. My wife and I were very respected citizens, one of the few who neither toiled nor depended on fishing for a living—our leather belts and sandals were signs of relative affluence in our village.

     I was valued for my wisdom and expertise in religious law—my services were sought after for help in settling disputes and confusions based on our religious texts, of which I was an expert. I am not certain whether the religion of my people was Islamic, Orthodox Christian or of another religious tradition. I know that our religion was pervasive and practiced without question by all who lived in our village—that it was foundational in terms of social behavior and village law. I know also that it was a rather strict, patriarchal society in which I lived and that life, while not overwhelmingly arduous, it was not luxurious or replete with leisure.

     My wife in this lifetime, who I know to be the same soul-mate that presently invests the bodymind of my current wife, Toril, was highly regarded for her midwifery skills--which included a vast knowledge of the medicinal uses of herbs. In an economy that used very little money, my law counsel and my wife’s midwifery practice were our family’s means through trade and barter—to our earning goods like food and comfort items; our professions were what made us somewhat separate from, even ‘above’ the majority of our community—most of whom were highly involved and dependent upon our village’s fishing industry.

     At the time of my death I was unusually old for my village. Above average in height and very slender, I wore the same layers of heavy linen and/or other cotton-like cloth and woolen robes as everybody else. My hair was somewhat short, thinned, and unruly. My head was usually covered with a small hat, even in my own home (which is where I found myself most of the time). I sported an unshaven long beard as was custom to elders and those in the religious services, though most men in the village, especially the younger men, shaved and kept their hair shorter (perhaps due to the hazards inherent in having long hair and beards in the sailing and oar propelled fishing vessels).

     My wife was extraordinarily tall for our people, close to six feet, and had the unusual attribute of having pale blue eyes. She had already departed from her Earthly body a few years before. We had two daughters who were now grown, both married to fishermen, and who were highly respected for their dock-side skills of fishing net repair and fish processing. From the edge of the porch of my house--about 100 feet above the docks of our small village--I would delight in the fact that I could look down onto the docks and keep tabs on our community’s center of activity—including from which I would watch my daughters working among the women on the docks below me. Alone since my wife had passed, I was lonely despite the almost daily dining with one of my daughters and her husband. I was spending many hours reading, studying my religious documents, but more hours reminiscing, reviewing in my mind the ‘judgments’ I had made in my law practice. I was also prone to napping and daydreaming. Since my wife’s death, I had been far less busy in my work—that is, far fewer villagers seemed to be seeking my counseling services. However, I had scarcely noticed this, so much more occupied with my own internal dialogue—living in my own silent world, if you will, was I. I thought of myself as very intelligent, very respected, very wise, and very much an expert on religious law. I thought that my sound advice was indispensible to the peace and civil harmony that seemed to reign among our villagers and within their families.

    Upon my own death bed, I recall the visitation of my daughters and their husbands, for which I was grateful, but I remember also feeling ready—that their ministrations were kind but unnecessary. I was ready to leave. I felt my Earthly job done. I missed my wife. As the pain increased (some kind of internal disease) I remember feeling more and more detached from both the pain and the world in which I had inhabited for some sixty years. It was at this time, wavering in and out of consciousness, that I felt and recognized the presence of my wife. Her beauty and unwavering, unconditional love astounded me, humbled me. It was as if I was for the first time I was recognizing what an incredible person she was. In that same moment, in that same knowing, I remember feeling the sudden realization that it was she who was the wise being, the great healer, the most evolved soul in our household—(and probably in our village) and that all along it had been she that had persuaded her own clients (for her skills, services, wisdom, advice, consult, love were, if vat highly sought after throughout our community) that had convinced people to come see me for my so-called “wisdom.” That it had really only been through her persuasion and through the debt and kindness the villagers felt they owed her that people had come to me—but I had never even suspected this—it had never even occurred to me that I wasn’t valued solely for my wisdom and expertise!  In this epiphany I also realized that I was, in fact, a selfish, arrogant, pretentious, stubborn person, that I was very stuck in the patriarchical hierarchical structures and traditions of our religious dogma and cultural practices, but in fact it was my own wife whom had truly lived, loved, and patiently tolerated me my entire adult life that had been the evolved soul, the wise one, the presence of unconditional love in our house.

     I found myself sobbing. I was apologizing to her, and she, as loving and caring as ever, just smiled and stroked my legs, saying how it was not important that love was all that mattered, how being near me, being able to live along side her one true love was all that really mattered to her, that she was just thankful for my love. But I was cruel! I had been so self-absorbed that I never noticed her love, I was oblivious to her selflessness, to her extraordinary patience and tolerance.  I was ashamed and felt miserably guilty as the tears gushed from my eyes. I tried to tell my daughters and sons-in-laws about my wife’s presence but I was already in transition. They cried as I expired; I reveled as I was taken in the all-consuming embrace of my loving wife to the spirit world.

The lesson I take away from my awareness and access to this lifetime is that some of the same patterns are still being worked on in my current (and, it turns out, other) life. Self-absorption to the distraction of my ability to give and be present for others—even loved ones. My affinity to words, rules, laws, interpretation, and rumination upon all such matters. My isolative, anti-social behaviors (“Let them come to me rather than I go out and seek others or tout myself and my abilities”). My sedentary, introverted habits. My distance to others, even my blood and loved ones. And, of course, the endless devotion of my wife, Toril, and two daughters. (Yes, the daughters from this Mediterranean lifetime are the same two souls that are currently invested in my two daughters from this lifetime.)

The gift of this view into another life of 'mine' was provided courtesy of a Life-Between-Life session with Susan Wisehart in Mundeleine, Illinois. I invite you to check out her services by reaching her website at <susanwisehart.com>.