Something a little eerie happened to me last night. I had a dream about being in Paris last night and walking around the city, which in itself is not weird because people do commonly have travel dreams. Sometimes it’s just the brain rehashing images collected from that day but sometimes it’s a soul going for an astral trip. Astral travel is something every soul on the planet does but most don’t even realize it. A lot of us remember it the next day and fewer people can do it at will. I’m going to tell you this very private story because I want you to learn from it. I want you to learn the importance of keeping a dream journal.
For some reason during the dream state in Paris, I knew I was astral. I knew I was on a mission. I said to myself, “I should try to find my family since I’m here,” and by family, I meant I thought I should look for evidence of my family from my 1700s past life. So I was walking around trying to figure out where I was and there were lots of people walking up and down this very wide street lined by beautiful white buildings with different colored roofs, though most were gray. I knew it was one of the boulevards because they all look that way. I stopped a man with a pot belly and perfect French came out of my mouth asking him what street this was called. I don’t speak French very well but apparently I can in the astral state. The pot bellied man called me mademoiselle and said I was on Boulevard du C… – the last part faded during the night and I couldn’t grasp it in the morning. At the time, something in my head thought that wasn’t the right name but I thanked him and went on my way.
Along my walking, I found a cemetery and I was pulled into it. There were wrought iron fences around the cemetery but I found the gate and it was eerily empty. I found graves that I knew were my family from the previous life but there were no bodies. It was more like a monument to my family who was killed in the revolution. I was trying so hard to remember the names but all I remember now was looking at my father’s name and the first four letters were CONT, I think. Whether that was a last name or a first name, I’m not sure.
The cemetery I walked by kind of looked like this but there were a lot more above ground graves.
The good news is I was able to figure out which boulevard began my journey. I looked up Paris boulevards and saw one called Boulevard du Crime. If you remember, I had thought it wasn’t the right name for it when I asked the pot bellied man. I read more about it and found out that its real name is Boulevard du Temple but after the city was reorganized in the 1830s, people started calling it Boulevard du Crime because of all the theaters there playing crime melodramas. In the time that I lived in Paris in the 1780s-1790s, it was a fashionable place to go walking, there were about half a dozen theaters there, cafes, etc. I looked on a map and found that it was not too far from where I lived. Theoretically, I could have been there before for some reason, though I don’t know what exactly and I’m not sure that it was called the Boulevard du Temple in my time. Maybe it was. I don’t know.
Here’s the lesson for you. I could kick myself for not writing down the details as soon as I woke up because there were things I needed to know there that have faded now. I was looking at the names I needed to find myself and them but I only have four letters tonight. Learn from my mistake.
If I had followed my own advice, I would have absorbed more information from my astral trip.