Are you familiar with the notion of karma? Perhaps you’ve heard someone casually say, “It must be karma” when things aren’t working as planned. The term is frequently used in colloquial speech to explain an unexplainable form of “just dues”; consequential payback for something out of bounds that you said or did in the past, which includes past lives. But karma is not just a system of rewards and punishments.

In religions like Hinduism and Buddhism karma starts the soul’s initiation on earth and accumulates over life times. The individual soul is reborn many times until the balance of karma is cleared. Humans have the opportunity to speed up their spiritual progress by practicing good karma; mindful thought and action in their present life. Thus each lifetime becomes another opportunity to rectify wrongful deeds especially in relationships. Returning souls are often drawn to one another, an unconscious recognition because their karma is entwined. 

Have you met people and had an uncanny feeling that you knew them, even though it was your first encounter? Albert Einstein referred to these moments as, “mystic emotions”.

 “The finest emotion of which we are capable is the mystic emotion. Herein lays the germ of all art and all true science. To know that what is impenetrable for us really exists, and manifests itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty, whose gross forms alone are intelligible to our poor faculties – this knowledge, this feeling … is the core of the true religious sentiment.” ~Albert Einstein~

In this post I will share stories about magnetism and romance; mine and others, where karma seemed to play a lead role in how the dynamics of these transitory relationships played out.

In Elementary School all the girls in my class, including me, had a crush on Zeke. He was smart, athletic, and handsome, of course. There was also a soulfulness I sensed and felt drawn to. I was a shy, insecure and withdrawn child and in seven years I probably spoke with Zeke only a handful of times, but for some reason I felt he was a kindred spirit. Upon completion of the sixth grade we moved to another small city bordering the Long Island Sound.  It felt like we moved to another country, when in actuality the move was scarcely ten miles north. I don’t remember ever returning with my father to visit my first friends and their families until I was in college and drove myself.  My father was usually preoccupied so I stopped asking him. I thought about my former life and Renee the landlady who cared for me so lovingly when my mother was alive, and I wondered about Zeke.  Our new home was across the street from a boatyard. There was a beautiful Weeping Willow planted stalwartly at the foot of our driveway. I regularly climbed into its bough and retreated. I am uncertain how many years later; quite possibly five or so, I saw two young men hanging out at the entrance to the boatyard. One of them was Zeke!  Seeing him right across the street was shocking and random and even though I was still shy and self-conscious, I didn’t think twice about approaching him. Odd as it sounds that sense of familiarity outshone my shadow of doubt. We chatted away like long lost buddies.

Over another few decades I periodically found myself thinking about Zeke. As a boy he seemed lined up for personal and professional success. I was living in California, in private practice as a therapist, divorced and raising two small children. While talking with another childhood friend I mentioned this persistent curiosity. She told me about “people-finders” search sites and asked for his name.

 Shocked by what she found she told me his last residence was listed in Martha’s Vineyard. She was living in Cape Cod at the time. “I wonder if my close friend who lives in the Vineyard knows him” she said. “As it happens I am going there next weekend. I’ll ask her.” The following week I got a call. “This is incredible. The guy you went to school with has a moving company and just moved my friend into her new home. She knows him very well! I have his phone number for you.” Once again I acted on impulse and called the listed number. Zeke answered. I recognized his voice even though it was octaves lower. When I told him who I was he seemed a bit perturbed.  Perhaps a flash from his past like me, stirred up the bottom of a pot with other burnt on remains. I spoke about my personal journey which included revisiting my childhood. I was candid about family issues which led me to enter therapy, and explore aspects of the subconscious including mysticism and spiritual philosophies such as karma. After my prelude, Zeke seemed more relaxed and spoke candidly about his life outside of grammar school and his not so intact family, which fueled many of his self-defeating behaviors. . Much of what he’d gone through was parallel to my own life experiences.  I finally had clearer insight about why over so many years I felt an illogical yet compelling connection to him and in terms of karma, maybe we were siblings rather than lovers in another life…

My daughter and son both studied martial arts as children. My son was in High School and my daughter was entering Middle School. The dojo was a multi- cultural and multi-aged close knit community, which we welcomed having a very small extended family on the west coast. Nia started in the children’s class and being her bold and outgoing self, befriended two young guys that were longstanding good buddies. Kevin was and still to this day, is like a soul brother. Alex however, was an enigma. There was just something different and enticing about him. It took several years to break through the barrier and feel as if she really was getting to know him, because he was so reserved.  There was definitely chemistry between them. Sadly the year they entered High School Alex stopped coming to class. He also stopped texting which left her in a quandary. One night on our way to the dojo my daughter said, “I wonder if Alex will ever come back?”  “Just watch, tonight he’ll be there” I remarked offhandedly. We arrived early and the kids went to change into their ghee.  I sat down and turned towards the door just as Alex walked in! They visited briefly after class and as far as I know they haven’t been in touch since…

It feels like lifetimes ago; a lifetime before becoming a grandmother, my marriage and divorce, and before leaving New York, my home of homes where my heart and soul now have dual residency. I was thirty when I met Red. Our love affair was short lived and fueled by what I can only describe as psychic power, which neither of us was adept at understanding.

We met through mutual friends who were jamming to meet a deadline on an animation project. All night Red and I sat manually coloring individual film cells. Neither of us had a sense of the time which lapsed into dawn.  We were talking. There was that feeling again, an inexplicable unconscious familiarity, and there was euphoria.

We parted, two clouds dispersing into a wild blue yonder, but I was certain, without a clue why, we would meet again. I remember inquiring about Red and asking Laura, our common connection, if he was dating someone. “Yes, I think he is,” she answered.  I smiled and said, “Well he is with the wrong woman. He is supposed to be with me. I intuitively knew it was a matter of time before fate would bring us back together. And that’s what happened!

One night I agreed to go to a party with Laura and her husband. I wasn’t overly enthusiastic because partying wasn’t my thing, but it was a potluck in a lovely brownstone and I wanted to meet some of Laura’s artist friends. We stayed for a few hours and just as we gathered our coats to leave, Red arrived. He looked directly at me from the entrance. Quickly maneuvering through the crowd he stood in front of me. “Wait you can’t leave yet. I came to meet you. Can I get your phone number before you leave?” “Sure” I said, giving it to him. “Did you tell Red I wanted to meet him?” I asked my friends on the ride back to our apartments. Both of them answered that they hadn’t, and were as surprised as I was, to see Red.

Red called a few days later and invited me to dinner in the city. I was doing my N.L.P. training and working at a hospital in the South Bronx. He was working in Manhattan for a small film and production company. We ate and went to a playground.  He asked about my course of study and I told him that I chose N.L.P. because it specifically focused on investigating the wealth and capacity of the Subconscious Mind. I shared the extraordinary story about finding my childhood friends by means of telepathy. (This story is also in my blog titled, Telepathy and the Incredible Power of Thought.).  I wasn’t accustomed to talking about this part of me. It was long before I publicly acknowledged and started working openly using my psychic abilities, but Red knew. He got it. He also had paranormal experiences but unlike me, Red was fearful of his precognitive abilities. Talking candidly seemed to ease the discomfort and we both marveled at these happenings. Walking back to the subway, he bent down and picked up an acorn. “If you ever need me hold this acorn and think of me. I will hear you and come” he said…

Each time we got together time stopped. I truly have not laughed or loved this way before or since. But the more time we spent together the more it became apparent that Red was drinking too much, and much to my dismay he was using hard core drugs. I tried to distract him, dissuade him, to save him from a life of self-destruct. You the readers know how well that went. I was young and co-dependent and he was young and impetuous. Red started to pull away from me.

New Year’s Eve was approaching and when I asked what we were doing, he was noncommittal.   I knew something was off but I wasn’t ready to face it. A day or so before New Year’s Eve he invited me to go to a party.  As soon as we arrived he disappeared. It was crowded, loud and smoky. I walked around making small talk feeling belittled and invisible. From the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of him with another woman and I knew. I got it. Close to midnight he caught up with me to bring in the New Year. We left shortly afterwards. When we returned to his apartment I saw a pair of women’s shoes tucked under his desk chair! I asked who they belonged to and without batting an eye lash; he said they belonged to a friend.

I slept on the floor that evening and left early the next day. He didn’t call for a week and I made no effort to contact him. I went to an art museum with Laura and implored her to tell me what she knew. “We went to a gathering this week and I saw him with another woman” she replied reluctantly. “The woman he was with on New Year’s eve?” “Yes” she said.

A fury arose such as I’d never felt before; a primal archetype, the woman warrior.  I drove to his apartment unannounced. He was clearly startled to see me. “The only thing you haven’t done is spit in my face, and I wouldn’t put that past you.” I collected my belongings, took a hand drawn picture I made for him and threw it against the wall. Never had I unleashed such raw rage!  The glass shattered into smithereens. He raised a hand to strike me. I stared back blankly without flinching. “Am I going to die” he asked. What did he see when he looked at me? “All I know is that you are destroying yourself and I have no power to stop you.” I felt hollow and ghostly. Gathering my dignity I walked past him and out the door.

He called me at work periodically. It was brief and casual. I wasn’t sure why he persisted and though I acted nonplussed I ached to the core. One late evening I picked up the acorn Red gave me on our first date and prayed. “God, help release me from this twisted emotional hold I still feel. Help me heal my heart and let go. “And if you hear me Red, I will always love you, I wish you well and I am letting go.”

In the wee hours of the morning my apartment buzzer rang. Without pressing the intercom to ask who it was I threw on my bathrobe and went down the stairs to the lobby. I knew. Behind the glass doors Red stood waiting. “I heard you” he said.

We spoke and held one another. He started to kiss  me.  I longed to melt into that space and drift into oblivion with him, but instead I said, “The outside of this house looks the same. The inside however has changed. You may  enter once again, only if you plan to stay forever.” He refrained. When we woke Red told me he was engaged to be married.

It was a rude awakening to fully understand that love does not conquer all, especially when there are other pervasive agendas and karma is involved.

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