🌀 Past Lives, Old Houses & Cosmic Amnesia: Should We Really Go Looking for the Keys? 🏡

Over the years, I’ve had spontaneous moments where I caught glimpses of other people’s soul paths from past lives—moments that clearly tied into traumas playing out in this lifetime. It’s not something I summon on demand, like a cosmic Netflix subscription. These glimpses usually come when a person’s higher self is trying to deliver a message that the incarnated self is… let’s say, ignoring with style.

But stepping back, here’s the real kicker:

When we land on Earth, it’s like someone hits the “Forget Everything” button. Why? Who knows. Maybe it’s cosmic safety protocol. Maybe remembering all your past heartbreaks, sword fights, and soul contracts would make this lifetime way too complicated.

And maybe that forgetting is a feature, not a bug.

Because if we did remember it all—every past life, every karmic scar, every ancestral grudge—we might never engage with the present moment. We’d be stuck in a slideshow of spiritual baggage instead of living the life in front of us.

We’re here to learn. To grow. To clean up some energetic messes (some ours, some inherited—thanks, great-great-grandpa). Many traditions say we come into life with unfinished business and healing work that echoes through time.

And this is where ancestral healing gets fascinating—because humans LOVE stories.

Stories help us feel safe. They help us make sense of pain. Through ancestral work—whether it’s therapy, constellations, journaling, rituals, or those random dreams where you’re inexplicably a medieval librarian—we get to wrap emotion in narrative. It doesn’t always matter if it’s “literally true.” If the story heals? That’s truth enough.

That said—there’s a fine line between healing and overthinking.

You can want answers so badly that your subconscious hands you a narrative like, “Here! Just stop asking already!” And boom—you’re suddenly convinced you were Cleopatra’s cousin’s dog. Even past life regression experts admit there’s always a blur between memory and metaphor.

So here’s the real question:

Should we spend our time trying to track down the houses we used to live in—or maybe, just maybe, tend to the one we’re living in right now?

I think there’s beauty in both. A quick peek into the past can be powerful. But if it becomes an escape hatch from dealing with what’s right here, right now—we’re missing the point.

Because the healing? The real work?
It’s not buried in an ancient scroll or a hypnotic flashback.

It’s in this moment. In this body. In this breath. 🌀