Of Souls and Other Things

On spirituality, reincarnation, and the mysteries of the universe.

I’ve always found it interesting how much of our existence we spend trying to explain things. We want reasons for everything: why certain people enter our lives, why others leave, and why some places feel familiar despite never having been there before. We search for explanations because accepting that some things may remain unknowable can be unsettling.

I’ve never been particularly interested in having all the answers. I believe in the universe, energy, reincarnation, spirits, and the possibility that the people we encounter in this lifetime may not be meeting us for the first time. I believe there is something greater than ourselves, although I wouldn’t necessarily give it a name or confine it to one religion. My spirituality is a combination of history, personal experience, intuition, and questions I cannot resolve.

I believe the universe may create possibilities, while our choices determine which paths we take. Fate and free will do not necessarily contradict one another. We decide what we entertain, what we walk away from, and what we allow to influence us. The same could be said about the people we meet.

I’ve always believed that everyone enters our lives for a reason, whether their presence is ultimately good or painful. Some people remain for decades, while others occupy only a brief chapter. I don’t believe every painful experience is justified simply because we find meaning in it afterward; people are still responsible for their choices. But every connection has the potential to change something within us and then there are the people who feel familiar before we’ve even had the opportunity to know them.

I’ve experienced this more than once. Meeting someone and feeling an immediate recognition, as though the usual process of becoming acquainted has been skipped. I’ve always believed in soulmates, although I don’t think the term should be reserved for romantic relationships. Sometimes a soulmate is a friend, a family member, or someone whose presence makes sense in a way that defies logic.

Perhaps some souls have known each other before. Perhaps the familiarity we experience isn’t always something new, but something returning. I sometimes wonder whether the people we call old souls are exactly that, souls carrying something from previous lifetimes into the present. Of course, I cannot prove any of this, and I don’t feel the need to.

My fascination with reincarnation began long before I could articulate what I believed. As a child, I had vivid dreams of lives that didn’t seem to belong to the one I was living. I’ve also always felt drawn to the World War II era, a fascination I could never entirely explain.

Years later, during a reading with a psychic, I was told that I had lived a previous life as a soldier during World War II. His name, according to the reading, was Ken. He had lived on a farm with his family and died during the war, never making it home.

I remember feeling as though something had clicked into place, not because I suddenly had proof of reincarnation, but because the story seemed to offer an explanation for a fascination I’d carried for years. At the same time, it left me with more questions than answers. Was there something meaningful in that connection, or had I simply encountered a story that resonated with something already familiar?

I still don’t know. To me, spirituality has never required the absence of doubt. I can acknowledge that a psychic’s account isn’t evidence of a previous life while still recognizing how deeply the experience affected me. I can wonder about reincarnation without insisting that every dream is a memory.

I’ve felt a similar fascination with ancestry. Scotland and France have always held a particular appeal, and both are connected to my family history. Sometimes I wonder how much of ourselves we inherit without realizing it.

Long before Christianity became established across much of Europe, communities practiced spiritual traditions shaped by nature, ancestry, and their understanding of the world. Celtic traditions held beliefs about the soul and worlds beyond our own, including ideas resembling reincarnation. I’m drawn to that history, not because ancestry proves spiritual ability, but because I wonder how many beliefs, instincts, and ways of understanding the world are carried through generations.

I’ve always considered myself receptive to the atmosphere around me. There are places I’ve passed through where I’ve felt an immediate heaviness, as though something terrible may have happened there. Sometimes that feeling follows me long after I’ve left.

Mediums I’ve visited have described me as especially sensitive to energy, though I can’t always explain whether what I’m experiencing comes from intuition, my surroundings, or something else. I only know that certain environments affect me deeply.

People sometimes romanticize spirituality, as though sensitivity must always be peaceful or enlightening. But feeling deeply can be uncomfortable. Still, I wouldn’t want to lose that part of myself.

I wear an evil eye bracelet every day. The symbol has existed across different cultures for centuries, traditionally associated with protection from envy, ill intentions, and negative energy. I don’t believe a bracelet can protect me from everything unpleasant in the world, but I find comfort in what it represents: protection, balance, and a reminder of the energy surrounding us.

Spirituality doesn’t always involve extraordinary experiences or elaborate rituals. Sometimes it is simply a small bracelet around your wrist, carried through the ordinary parts of the day.

I also believe in signs: repeating numbers, vivid dreams, songs appearing at strangely appropriate moments, and coincidences that arrive when we need reassurance. I understand that our minds naturally recognize patterns, especially when we’re searching for meaning. But something can be a coincidence and still mean something to us.

My beliefs about the afterlife are less defined. I believe in spirits and reincarnation, and I sometimes imagine that our energy continues beyond the physical body until we’ve made peace with whatever remains unresolved. Perhaps, eventually, we begin again.

I also believe that the people we’ve lost may remain connected to us in ways we cannot physically perceive. The possibility that love, or something of the people we love, continues beyond death is something I hold close. Yet death still frightens me.

Believing in something beyond this life does not make the prospect of dying less intimidating. I can believe that our souls continue and still be afraid of what happens when everything familiar ends. If someone offered to tell me with absolute certainty what happens after we die, I’m not sure I would want to know. There are some things I would rather discover when the time comes.

That uncertainty is part of why I don’t feel compelled to convince anyone else of my beliefs. Spirituality is personal. Some people find their answers in organized religion; others find them in science, philosophy, nature, or relationships. I think there is room for all of those perspectives.

I believe in karma, too, although not necessarily as punishment. I see it more as a form of balance. The energy we put into the world matters, and our actions have consequences, sometimes in ways we don’t immediately recognize. That doesn’t mean every hardship is deserved or that suffering proves someone has done something wrong. It simply means our choices contribute to the lives we create and the world we leave behind.

Perhaps that is what connects all these beliefs for me: the sense that nothing exists entirely in isolation. Our relationships influence us, our decisions change our direction, and our histories shape how we understand the present. Even the smallest moments can remain with us for reasons we don’t immediately recognize.

I don’t know whether I’ve lived before, whether the souls I feel connected to have accompanied me through other lifetimes, or whether my childhood dreams were anything more than dreams. I don’t know whether the universe has ever sent me a sign. But I believe there is more to existence than I currently understand.

Maybe faith is not certainty that something is true. Maybe it is the willingness to remain open when certainty is impossible, to let wonder exist beside reason and hope exist beside fear.

I may never know where my soul has been or what waits beyond this life. But I can choose what I do with the life I have been given. I can meet people with care, leave places better than I found them, protect my energy without closing myself off, and remain attentive to the meaning hidden in ordinary moments.

The universe may have a plan. It may not. Perhaps fate opens the door, but it is still up to us to decide how we walk through it.

So I will keep asking questions. I will keep doubting, believing, noticing, and wondering. I will wear my bracelet, follow the paths that feel honest, and try to put more kindness into the world than I take from it.

I may never have all the answers, but I can still choose the kind of person I become while searching for them.