It was mentioned to me, that memories, particularly those that aren’t really ours, for example, an ancestor’s memory, comes to us spiritually rather than passed on through DNA. I believe this is so. I have heard about studies done on twins for example, who share the same memories although they were raised apart and we have all heard of past life studies and studies of what happens after we die. I have no statistics to quote at this point. I only wonder if some of us are genetically predisposed to hear our ancestors calling to us. Is there something we or I as an individual, inherited from our forebears that allows us to access that part of us that connects across the millennia. I’m not exactly meaning phenomena such as ESP or the like; I know that such is often passed down, but can we have a memory of something that happened to a past relative as if it happened to us. I am looking at books now that talk about this very fact. I will not name books till I’ve finished them and can give an accurate critique of what I thought.
So, are some of us predisposed? There are cultures that practice ancestor devotion; the Native Americans for one. I am also looking at a book on Celtic culture that discusses the idea of living on the edge between two worlds. According to ancient (maybe not so ancient) custom, people of this background found it normal to have one foot in this world and another in the next separated only by a thin veil. This idea was even incorporated into their early forms of Christianity. Yes, I’m looking at a book about this also and also proposing that it doesn’t have to be one or the other, genetics or DNA. It could be both.
What do I suspect is true? I think that as with ESP and other psychic abilities, there are those who are able to have memories that don’t belong to them but to their ancestor. I think that, and this is just a hunch, that many past-life memories are exactly what this is. Not our past life but that of an ancestor and we either tap into that ancestor’s spirit that lives on after death or it lies somewhere in us; an ache in our bones, a quiet little whisper we hear at times. It is possible that I am entirely wrong about some of my premises, but I don’t think all. It is this whisper, this ache that calls me to a place I’ve never been. I am pulled there by my spirit, my heart, my ancestors call, and maybe even their memories.