The first flash of recognition occurred when I visited Wales for the first time. I was born in South Africa but emigrated to the UK, and it was on a sightseeing trip to Wales that I experienced the strangest sense of déjà vu. I had already spent quite some time in England but it was the Welsh landscape that evoked this gut-level sense of familiarity.
On a few occasions whilst I stand at the sink doing the evening dishes, I have this flashback of me in black Victorian clothing. I am washing clothes at a sink and it is very late. Everyone is in bed asleep while I do chores alone. The days are too long, yet not long enough. There is so much to do, but I cannot afford to pay anyone to do the work for me. The sense here is that I'm a widow. Our family used to be wealthy before a change in fortunes forced us to let all the servants go. Now the big house is in a state of disrepair, elderly parents and young children all rely on me, and I am perpetually exhausted from washing, cleaning and caring for others.
In this life I chose not to have children, and have deliberately kept my life very simple and uncomplicated. Nevertheless, I seem to have a natural gift with children, to the extent that people often assume I have children. There is a feeling of having done this before, that I have definitely had several children. Sometimes I wonder if my choices today were subconsciously motivated by these past life experiences.
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