Jump to content
SASS Wire Forum

Heritage and Reincarnation?


Aunt Jen

Recommended Posts

Good afternoon, everyone.

 

SASS has strong historical connections.

 

Throughout history, there have been countless multitudes who have felt a strong connection to our past, as humans. Without doing an exhaustive study of it for this post, I think I feel comfortable saying that connections to history stem from some things that are actually in humans or part of the human condition.

 

But what is the source of that connection? No doubt it's multifactorial, due to many different things that influence our behavior. But, as I stand here in the SASS Saloon having my one glass of wine imported all the way from St. Louis, I thought I'd ask you all what your ideas may be about this.

 

Might it be, sometimes, in whole, or in part, things related to the below, with different people feeling different aspects, such that no two people are the same? Or might it be something stronger that we haven't identified yet? (Don't let that one sound strange. Our good friends at major, world-class scientific research institutions have been identifying things about the universe that we simply don't seem built to see, from, frankly everything about quantum physics, to E.M. radiations we can't directly perceive, to dark matter, to dark energy, to the Higgs Field...

 

* Hearing stories from our elders, as we're growing up, internalizing aspects of them, and feeling warm towards them later in life?

 

* Something in our ancestors' life experience that affected genes that affected later generations?

 

* The reverse of that, in that the life/culture we tend to make for ourselves is a reflection of a genetic disposition, such that cultures and events of old feel familiar?

 

* The flexibility of our brains with neuroplasticity to "fall in love," with ideas, sometimes, even if we've barely heard of them, elsewhere? This same phenomenon could clearly also help our species long-term survival, with creative ideas beloved, and the ability to stick to an idea to pursue it through (a flexible neuroplasticity in the younger; a reduction in neuroplasticity as we age).

 

* Essence or energy of events or those who have gone before, left physically (related to physical sciences) in our surroundings, that we sense on a subliminal level, e.g., sensing history from our surroundings, that we interpret as just something we like or not?

 

* A spiritual connection with something---a soul, an essence, an ancestor, a place---such that we feel beloved or akin?

 

* Or maybe even reincarnation, the idea that we, or part of who we are now, was here or there, before?

 

As we stand here in this saloon, long after the rowdiness has died down, in the later evening, I'm pleased to hear what you think.

 

 

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Utah leans back in his cair in a dimly lit corner of the Saloon. He puts his boots up on the table and presses his fingertips together, eagerly anticipating the responses from the Saloon denizens.

"Exxxcelent", he is heard to whisper, "I hope it involves quarks".

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Barkeep, give me a Jamesons neat. While I ponder these metaphysical, transcendental, psychological and otherworldly ponderings. Oh, and give the guy at the table in the corner whatever he's drinking.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I need another scotch or three to get my mind around this one.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Fascinating questions, and certainly the stuff of great conversation. I only stopped in briefly, but let me contemplate how to best respond, and I will attempt to give a full answer tomorrow.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I'll need to consult my Kierkegarrd notes.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

(sips his coffee, sets it down and pours a slow, thin stream of cream into it, contemplates the patters that roil to the surface)

(sips his coffee, sets it down, leans forward, rotating the cup slightly in his palms)

 

Questions I've asked my very self many a-time. And (sips coffee) for me, I think, it comes down to the classic "5 Ws." Or maybe just a variation on "The one H," - that would be "How did we get were we are."

 

Consider the simple - HA! "simple" the man says - chalk line or snap line. It's been a standard tool of builders for almost as long as the hammer. Who came up with the idea? What caused him to see that if he impregnated a string with chalk he could quickly and easily mark a straight line on his work just by holding down the ends, and then lifting and releasing the middle of the string? When did this lazy genius live? And where?

 

Heck - look at the hammer. How, without an iron hammer and anvil, were the first iron hammer and anvil made? Stone tools will only take you so far working soft metals like copper or bronze, and those two aren't what you would call good for trying to work iron.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Aunt Jen catches a ponderous look in Utah eyes. She looks up and down the bar, and the guy at the end indicates she should go over there, but Aunt Jen's been burned more than a couple of times by some sidewinder who looks contemplative.

 

"Go on," says the cowboy at the end of the bar. "It's Utah Bob. He's harmless, mostly."

 

The smirk on my face says I'm not sure this is good advice, but I'm ready to take a chance. I walk over to him and take a seat nearby---- or try to. My guns won't fit within the rails of the chair, so I move to the next one over, which has no rails.

 

"So?" I ask him. "Tell me?"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Ah! Now we have the series of existential theories and practical evaluations of the same. Where do we end up?



Does it matter? Do we really care? Well, Hell no!



Let's have another bourbon and relax into a happy blur of contemplation of our navels. Actually, I am already on my third bourbon and really don't care what anyone else may have to say. The ball is in your court.




Warhorse


Link to comment
Share on other sites

The bartender sees the look on my face. "Hey Warhorse! Whaddya join 'em for ifn ya don't care?"

 

"No, it's okay," i said to the bartender. I turned back to War and then Utah. "He can talk. But I just wanna--- Thr problem is---- it seems to me---.".

 

I froze when I saw ole codger saundrrdown stairs. He looked at me with a stare that said he's wondered about these things before.

 

"for mr," he said, "This stuff matters." He sat at the table with is three. "Niyhing 's more important than life. So what are we doing here?" He looked at Warhorse. "Personslly, I think we're tapped into something real, but we don't know what it is. Yet."

 

I turned toward this intense man. "you sense it!"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Dang...!

 

I'm still stuck on Cosby's "Why is there air...?" and it's been nearly fifty years...! :huh:

Link to comment
Share on other sites

 

 

Only a few ears perceive the slight creak as the Saloon door opens and a travel dusted stranger silently enters, dressed in a rawhide jacket, worn blue wool military trousers with an antelope hide seat, a surprisingly fancy tan shirt with blue and red random whimsical figures. A dusty maroon scarf is tied loosely around his neck. Comanche moccasins are tied a few inches above his ankles, over the faded issue, blue wool pants. A worn suttler's cartridge belt with a plain brown right hand cross draw holster filled with a well-used and oiled .38 Colt. He carries a brass .44 Winchester rifle in his left hand. A small blanket roll is under his left arm, and saddle pockets are slung over his left shoulder. A dusty, brown Stetson shades hard, faraway eyes. He carries his life and history, past and present, on his body. The stranger's right hand rests lightly on his abdomen.

 

He takes in those who have noticed him and then, surveys the room, eyes resting uneasily on a beautiful Woman, whose presence here brings forth the memory of another beautiful woman, earthy and warm, who at once, bears no resemblance to this Woman before him, but who haunts his everyday memory, and who agonizingly, he does not recognize either. He swallows hard, moves his gaze and continues to survey the Saloon.

 

He jerks almost imperceptibly. He thumbs back the hammer of the '66 and his right hand flicks minutely, then stops, on its way to the Colt. He lowers the hammer of the rifle. He doesn't recognize the Warrior there at the bar, but somehow he knows him very well.

 

The Warrior at the bar flinches slightly under the stranger's gaze, turns quickly from the bar, dropping his right arm to his side, hand grazing the familiar butt of a .44 Colt. His quick bright eyes narrow to slits, while vestigial reflexive goose flesh raise hair on his body. He exhales and a slight, puzzled realization of recognition of this stranger, who he's never seen, heightens his every sensation. A primal dread triggers a visceral survival instinct, jerking his right hand toward the Colt, but he stops. The dusty stranger before him stands erect and immobile, his hand unmoving, his eyes revealing nothing.

 

Then, the Woman slowly turns, as lithe and as gracefully as a big cat. She stares hard at this stranger in confused recognition and involuntarily moves toward him. The stranger lays the Winchester and blanket roll onto a table, shrugs the saddle pockets off onto the rifle, and moves slightly to his right, reaching out to the Woman with his left hand. She continues to him, taking his hand in confusion, looking hard at him, shaking her head slightly.

 

At her touch, a warmth from the Woman runs through the stranger's body. She leads him toward the Warrior, waiting at the bar and the stranger walks with her, unable to resist. The Woman reaches out to the Warrior, who stands there in high alert and confused recognition, hesitating an instant, unwilling to give his right hand. But, the Warrior takes the Woman's hand and gasps.

 

The Woman looks from one man to the other, blinking unbelieving, in a surreal daze. She finally speaks out quietly and haltingly, looking from one man to the other, with the only words that somehow make sense to her: "It took you two long enough to find me!"

:-)

:-)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Rye sits back and smiles and pours himself another shot of rye whiskey and says,"None of this is gonna matter in a hundred years cause we'll all be dead, so piano player turn it up"!!!! :)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

After a few seconds, the man at the piano began to play.

 

A shot rang out. The upper cabinet of the piano shattered, and the piano player dove.

 

The woman at the bar holstered her .45 and told the player, "Not right now,,Sam." Her gaze went up to the handsome stranger. "so the question is," she asked him, "is your connection to history as strong as it is to your current life?"

 

Sitting at her table, watching all this, Aunt Jen leans over to Utah Bob and whispers, "Jeez. That is good."

 

The whole saloon stared at each other.

 

"What is all this drama!?" the manager of the saloon said, walking out on stage. "what are we? A bunch of Salmon swimming with genes pulling our strings? Or are we MORE? are we only present, or are we vast? ARE WE WHO WE ARE only because we are, or are we influenced by some things beyond our awareness?"

 

Sam picked himself up off the floor, looking at the woman with the two men. "Yeah," he said. "Personally, I think it's a combination of a genetic disposition to behavior, design to see the universe in ways which our ancestors shared---evolution is so slow, and our design is so deep---but I also think our bodies, once we live, produce a side effect, a coalesced energy, if you will, which we can't see but which is real, nonetheless, like some may call a soul. I think we're affecting the cosmos more than we're aware, and it lingers after we die. So the question is, is that soul US, now, reborn? Or are we in touch with those who linger? "

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest Hoss Carpenter, SASS Life 7843

Boy, I am going to need a full Fifth of a good Single Malt to handle this heavy thinking!

 

Cheers, Hoss

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Rye looked over at the damaged piano and asked out loud,"Anyone know a good piano tuner"?? He then poured himself another shot as a lovely barl girl sat down beside him and asked, "Is there enough in that bottle for a drink for little ol' me"? Rye smiled and said, Shore nuff darlin' help yourself". He wondered if life on other planets was as crazy as it is here on Earth. :wacko::blink:

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The manager walked stage left, over to the piano player. "Nikola," he asked. "You ready to leave if we have to?"

 

"No, Soren," Nikola said. "The ship's in for an oil change, and the hydrospanner---you know how those are."

 

Soren was existentially livid. "Can't you fix it?"

 

Nikola sat back on his piano bench. "They won't give me any grant money! This planet works on money! What do you expect me to do?"

 

"Okay, be cool," Soren said.

 

"If they'd give me some money, I could invent a time machine!" Nikola said.

 

Soren put a hand on Nikola's shoulder. "Life can only be understood backward; but must be lived forwards."

 

Hearing their exchange, the handsome stranger at the bar leaned in to the Warrior and asked, "Is this a gay saloon?"

 

"They just know all you know," Aunt Jen told Soren.

 

Soren smiled at her. "People understand me so poorly that they don't even understand my complaint about them not understanding me. The highest and most beautiful things in life are not to be heard about, nor read about, nor seen, but, if one will, are to be lived."

 

An out-of-work court reporter off to the side wrote everything down.

 

The woman at the bar looked at him like he was an alien from outer space. "What? You're saying we should not listen to people but just go on living?"

 

"Life has its own hidden forces which you can only discover by living," Soren said.

 

The woman turned back to the warrior. "I don't know what he's talking about."

 

Nikola Tesla put his hand to his mouth in a mock effort to shield his words from others, and whispered loudly across the entire saloon to the woman, "I don't either."

 

"Yes, you do," Soren said to him.

 

"No I don't!" Nikola asserted.

 

Soren nodded wisely. "You just don't come at it from the same direction."

 

Aunt Jen downed the last of her wine and wiped her mouth on a well-worn sleeve.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Guys!" Aunt Jen said in exasperation. She got up and went over to the end of the saloon near the stage and pulled back a curtain to reveal a large chalk board. Taking a bit of chalk in her hand, she began to write on the board her questions:

 

* Why do humans tend to connect with history?

 

* Is it because of our design?

 

* Are we in touch with something from old?

 

* Are we reincanated?

 

"You went to school," a guy at the other end of the bar said.

 

"Yes, I did," Aunt Jen told him. "To get a T-shirt, once. Twice—" she shook both her head and her hand. "God forbid I should! I don't know. But what about this stuff?"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Leaning an elbow back against the bar, facing out toward the Saloon. Throwing back the remainder of my scotch before absent-mindedly rubbing the several days of growth on my chin. My dark broadcloth suit giving me the appearance of a professional, even if it does appear a bit worn and my face scruffy. The well worn brown cartridge belt around my hips with the partially hidden colt in its holster adding a caution to that appearance, though.

 

"Well, if you want to know my thoughts on it, I believe there may be a number of issues that come into play. Ever since our ancestors descended from the trees and headed for the plains, we have needed to rely on one another. We've hunted as teams. Worked as teams. Over time, those teams became tribes, and clans, that sort of thing. It has been important to survival to have that memory of the family, the tribe, the clan instilled within us. To a large extent, I think this is instinctive, explaining many things about how outsiders have often been treated, and why for many the clan comes first, above life itself, even.

 

Once language developed, and before writing, the tales of our ancestors were told and told again. Committed to memory. Tales told of exploits given to instill pride, determination, and a drive not to fail those ancestral spirits. As writing developed, these were committed to parchment, papyrus, whatever. They became great epics, norse sagas. Things to rouse the spirit.

 

And us? Well, we went from clans, Scots-Irish such as myself, to bigger. Ulster Plantation gave way to the Commonwealth of Virginia, or Georgia, then the western territories. But there have been constants. The stories. The OK Corral. Billy the Kid. Farmer Peel, you name it. Those stories do more than tell tall tales. They impress a notion. A code, if you will, that we feel duty bound to honor.

 

Reincarnation? I don't know. As a person once pointed out, there are more people on this earth that believe in it than don't. I myself have had experiences that make me question and wonder. Not deja vu, but knowledge, insight into something I should have had no way of knowing. I've experienced what some would call ha'nts. I don't know whether they were, or whether they weren't, and all about that, but I think that energy is energy, and the vital energy we have just might stick around in some cases once we pass, and in others goes someplace new. Maybe that energy goes toward the familiar, taking the path of least resistance, so to speak. Coming back toward the same or similar lineages. And maybe, just maybe, that also creates the strong urge to be a part of something bigger. In our case, the West."

 

 

Looking around... Seeing the stares of the others and feeling suddenly self-conscious about being long winded, as usual. Turning to the bar and lifting my glass, motioning for another.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Not all humans connect with history. I know many who can barely connect with last week. I used to dismiss the reincaration theory out of hand much as I did with astrology and Area 51 aliens.

And I still cannot say I believe in reincaration in the conventional sense. Mediums telling people they were medieval princesses or Apache chiefs in former lives is bunk. (why is it nobody was ever a dung collector or accountant?)

But as I look more into the arguments for a universal conciousness I begin to wonder.

 

My thoughts on this seem to be like Nikola's current.....alternating.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

And I am still trying to connect with my gentler side. I finally figured out that the pointy end of the bullet

goes into the cylinder, first. Now I an supposed to understand Grandpa and Uncle Bill? Do I have a

gentler side? Maybe I should ask Bruce.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

And I am still trying to connect with my gentler side. I finally figured out that the pointy end of the bullet

goes into the cylinder, first. Now I an supposed to understand Grandpa and Uncle Bill? Do I have a

gentler side? Maybe I should ask Bruce.

 

 

He'll just tell you, "yippy ki-yay."

Which is a pretty darned good answer.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Evolution and reincarnation are in the same categories for me. I don't believe I was dung collector in a former life, and although I must admit some of my ancestors hanged from tree--it wasn't by their tails! ^_^

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Wow! Good stuff all! And I enjoyed Nik's alternating inclusion, Utah.

 

And DocWard....!! Thank you. Evolution, survival, selection, connection....

 

"A round of apples for the house!" I shout enthusiastically.

 

People look at me as if i've lost it. "Where's my beer?" one asks.

 

"Ifn ya have to ask, you know why I bought apples for ya," I joked back with them. "Oh, alright," I said to the bartender. "Give them all some carrot juice!"

 

"Ain't got none!" the bartender replied. "All we got is Sasp and Red Eye! And beer. And veggie burgers--"

 

Everyone laughed.

 

I shouted as if I'd come to a magnanimous conclusion that wasn't actually going to cost anything, "Then veggie burgers and drink of choice for everyone!"

 

Everyone loved them and ate hearty. :)

 

Well, it was free food.

 

Me? My views? I've asked questions, but not shared much.

 

I think it's multifactorial, many factors involved. Similar to Doc, actually, in some ways.

 

I kinda think, though that we humans, with our organic thinking machines, are designed (I don't mean with conscious intent, per se; just the build of it) to perceive only part of the universe (NOT radio waves, directly, for example, nor multiple other dimensions, a la Kip Thirne's "Interstellar"), and that that design/build influences how we understand the universe---which is very limited.

 

Example: 20 years ago, we were thinkIng we were getting a handle on the cosmos---until some astronomers showed us a whole new universe. Seems all this 3-D matter we had used as a model of the cosmos is only about 4% of it, with dark matter and dark energy, which we can't yet perceive directly, either, doing much if the rest----which reminded us, again, that we are so limited in our awareness.

 

With that caution, though, I am inclined to think there is something in us, a byproduct of physical existence, that affects the cosmos on a energy-based level, that may continue in sine way---AND that things also do that (watch "Avatar" for a Holkywoodized example).

 

Which makes sense to me, as we, literally, are part of this world---made of it's atoms, sharing same energy---and this world is literally part of the universe, it's atoms born of other stars and its energy shared.

 

I feel sure that what we are connected to, including other parts of the universe and other times, is far more vast than we know.

 

So I'm prone to say, "life after death? Souls? Reincarnation? Cosmic connections? I don't know. I just don't know the BIG PICTURE. But what I do sense strongly, is that what ever it is, it's BEAUTIFUL, and we're part of it."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Evolution and reincarnation are in the same categories for me. I don't believe I was dung collector in a former life, and although I must admit some of my ancestors hanged from tree--it wasn't by their tails! ^_^

 

No offense intended on my part, of course, Good Sir!

 

Wow! Good stuff all! And I enjoyed Nik's alternating inclusion, Utah.

 

And DocWard....!! Thank you. Evolution, survival, selection, connection....

 

...

 

I think it's multifactorial, many factors involved. Similar to Doc, actually, in some ways.

 

I kinda think, though that we humans, with our organic thinking machines, are designed (I don't mean with conscious intent, per se; just the build of it) to perceive only part of the universe (NOT radio waves, directly, for example, nor multiple other dimensions, a la Kip Thirne's "Interstellar"), and that that design/build influences how we understand the universe---which is very limited.

 

Example: 20 years ago, we were thinkIng we were getting a handle on the cosmos---until some astronomers showed us a whole new universe. Seems all this 3-D matter we had used as a model of the cosmos is only about 4% of it, with dark matter and dark energy, which we can't yet perceive directly, either, doing much if the rest----which reminded us, again, that we are so limited in our awareness.

 

With that caution, though, I am inclined to think there is something in us, a byproduct of physical existence, that affects the cosmos on a energy-based level, that may continue in sine way---AND that things also do that (watch "Avatar" for a Holkywoodized example).

 

Which makes sense to me, as we, literally, are part of this world---made of it's atoms, sharing same energy---and this world is literally part of the universe, it's atoms born of other stars and its energy shared.

 

I feel sure that what we are connected to, including other parts of the universe and other times, is far more vast than we know.

 

So I'm prone to say, "life after death? Souls? Reincarnation? Cosmic connections? I don't know. I just don't know the BIG PICTURE. But what I do sense strongly, is that what ever it is, it's BEAUTIFUL, and we're part of it."

 

You are quite welcome, and very well stated on your part.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Rye contemplated the various conversations and thought, " No one knows all there is to know, he%& not even half of what there is to know". So….how can one say there is or is not reincarnation? Maybe so! Have we all done this before thousands of times?? Geez I hope I get it right one o' these times! :wacko:

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use.