The Secret of Past Lives E-Book

Norbert Kürlis

• Herausgeber: BoD - Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Ratgeber
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 100

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

What happens after we take our last breath? Is there more to our existence than we can see? In The Secret of Past Lives, the boundaries between life and death dissolve as hidden memories from previous existences resurface. Through a tapestry of captivating stories, readers will journey across time and space, exploring the profound mysteries of reincarnation, destiny, and the eternal cycle of the soul. Delve into the lives of characters who uncover fragments of their past selves sometimes in dreams, sometimes in startling moments of déjà vu. Each tale sheds light on the interconnectedness of human experience and invites us to question our understanding of life itself. A spellbinding collection for the curious and contemplative, The Secret of Past Lives will leave you pondering: could your past hold the key to your present?

Leseprobe

Content

Foreword

Introduction

The Melody of the Past

Encounter with an Old Soul

The Familiar Garden

The Familiar Town

The Lantern at the End of the Alley

The Whispering Stone

Reunion in Mönchengladbach

The Soul Reunion in Merano

In the Dream, Eva meets her Mother

Memory of Terlan

Return of the Past

Past Steps

Echo of Love

Anne and the Old Soul

Anne and Andreas

The Soul of Grandpa August

Anne in the Kindergarten

Lena

A Near-Death Experience

The Voice of the Summit

The Grandmother's Secret

At the End of the Tunnel

The Great-Grandmother

A Laugh from the Past

Memories of Brest

The Voice in the Cabin

Final Farewell in Vienna

The Voice of the Sea

The Camino de Santiago

The Message at the Etsch

The Waves of the Past

The Whisper in the Minster

Afterword

Foreword

Over the years, I have often found that conversations with friends, acquaintances, and companions naturally turn to a fascinating and enigmatic topic: what happens to us after death. It is a question that has intrigued humanity for centuries, regardless of age, background, or belief system.

These discussions have left a deep impression on me. Everyone has their own ideas, hopes, and sometimes fears. While some firmly believe in reincarnation or life after death, others see death as the final conclusion. But what if there is more? What if our souls embark on a journey, if our existence does not end with our physical demise?

Exploring these thoughts has inspired me to write stories. Stories that are not only products of imagination and speculation but are also shaped by the dreams, beliefs, and experiences of the people around me.

With this book, I invite you to embark on a journey – a journey into the world of soul migration. Each story is a standalone adventure dedicated to the unknown. They are meant to provoke thought, inspire dreams, or perhaps simply entertain you.

I hope that as you read, you not only find joy but also discover new perspectives. Perhaps you may even recognize your own thoughts or questions that have long occupied your mind.

In this spirit: Let us take a glimpse behind the veil together.

Warm regards,Norbert

Introduction

Have you ever wondered what happens when our life comes to an end? Where does the soul go when the body stops breathing? Some say it flies to the heavens, while others believe it returns to Earth to begin something new.

In these stories, you will experience the most exciting, humorous, and mysterious journeys that souls can undertake during their wanderings. Sometimes, they arrive in places filled with wonders. Sometimes, they encounter other souls with something important to say. And sometimes, they must make difficult decisions to discover who they truly are.

Perhaps you’ll realize that within you, too, lies a soul full of adventure – ready to explore life’s greatest mysteries.

Are you ready for the journey?

The Melody of the Past

The piano music fell silent, and a gentle murmur rippled through the opulent hall of the Grand Hotel "Eternal." Alexander, the new bar pianist, let his hands rest on the ivory keys for a moment before gently closing them. He had been playing all night, melodies that seemed to have forgotten time, carried along by the atmosphere of the centuries-old hotel.

"A break," he murmured to himself, rising and letting his gaze wander across the high ceiling and gilded chandeliers that must have witnessed so much – wars, lavish parties, lost loves.

At the bar, the bartender greeted him with a warm smile. "Mineral water, as usual?"

"Yes, thank you." Alexander leaned against the counter and accepted the glass. As the bartender stepped aside, Alexander glanced into the bar mirror.

But instead of his own tired face, he suddenly saw something that took his breath away.

A young woman, beautiful, with dark curls and a shimmering dress reminiscent of a bygone era, stared back at him. Her face was sorrowful, but her eyes seemed to smile, almost as if she recognized him. Alexander jerked back, the glass clinking on the counter. He turned quickly, but no one was behind him.

"Is everything alright?" the bartender asked, stepping closer with concern.

Alexander pointed with a trembling hand at the mirror. "There... there was someone. A woman. She... she was standing right behind me, but now she's gone."

A faint smile crossed the bartender's face, mixed with a touch of resignation. "Ah, it's happened again."

"What do you mean?" Alexander stared at him, confusion evident in his eyes.

The bartender leaned on the counter, his tone quieter, almost confidential. "Every new pianist sees her eventually. She belongs to this place, to this bar. I've never seen her myself, but the stories – I know them all. Some say she was the pianist here before the First World War changed everything. Her name was supposedly Claire."

"Claire..." Alexander whispered the name as if to taste it. "But why? Why does she appear?"

The bartender shrugged. "Maybe she just can't leave. Maybe it's the music that keeps her here. They say she was brilliant – the best pianist of her time. She supposedly died young, of a broken heart. And since then... well, she seems bound to this place."

Alexander was silent. He stared into his glass, then back at the mirror. The woman was gone, but he felt her presence lingering.

"And now? Should I keep playing?" he finally asked.

The bartender nodded. "You should. Maybe she's listening. Maybe that's all she needs – someone to keep playing."

With a slight shiver, Alexander returned to the piano. As he struck the first notes, the melody sounded warmer, fuller, almost as if an invisible hand were guiding him. And deep within, he knew: Claire was still there, a quiet melody within the old walls of the Grand Hotel.

Encounter with an Old Soul

When Anna stepped into the old café, she felt a strange tug in her chest, as if an invisible thread were guiding her to a long-forgotten place. The café was cozy, almost unremarkable, with wobbly wooden tables and faded photographs on the walls. Yet something about the atmosphere felt familiar, like a dream she couldn't quite grasp.

Anna ordered a tea and let her gaze wander. In one corner sat an old man engrossed in a book. His silver hair fell messily across his face, yet he exuded a peculiar sense of calm. When his eyes suddenly lifted and met hers, time seemed to stand still for a moment.

"Why don't you join me?" he said, his voice deep and gentle. Anna, surprised by his directness, hesitated only briefly before sitting down with him.

"I don’t know you, and yet..." he began, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"I feel like I’ve met you before," Anna replied, before she even knew why she said it. It was absurd, and yet it felt right.

The man smiled, his eyes sparkling as if he were about to share a story only he knew. "There are encounters that transcend time. Some souls are connected, no matter how many times they are reborn."

A shiver ran down Anna’s spine. She had never delved into such topics, but something about his words struck a deep chord within her.

"Why do I feel like you know me?" she asked.

"Perhaps because I do," he replied softly. "Not in this life, but in a previous one. I was... a teacher to you, you might say. You were full of curiosity and light, though your path was not easy."

His words brought flashes of memories that didn’t seem to be hers: a room full of books, the crackling of a fire, a voice teaching her to practice patience. It was as if a hidden window within her had been thrown open, allowing her to glimpse something beyond her understanding.

"And now?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Now I meet you to remind you of something. You are here to complete what you began. But only you can know what that is."

The encounter lasted perhaps an hour, perhaps two. When Anna left the café, she felt changed. The old man had given her nothing concrete, yet his gaze, his presence, seemed to have opened a door within her.

From that day on, she began to notice the subtle signs in her life: an old passion for writing that she picked up again, an inexplicable calm in difficult moments, and a newfound trust in the flow of things.

The old man disappeared, as if he had never existed. Yet Anna knew he had touched a part of her soul, an echo from another time, reminding her of who she was and where she was going. The encounter with the old soul was not an ending but a beginning.

The Familiar Garden

Karen had no idea why she decided to drive to the small town on the edge of the hills that afternoon. It had been a spontaneous decision, triggered by an image in a travel brochure: an old garden with a weathered stone bench, surrounded by lush green scenery. The place had something about it that irresistibly drew her in, as if it were calling her.

When she arrived, the town embraced her with a strange mix of novelty and familiarity. The narrow cobblestone streets, the halftimbered houses with their weathered wooden facades, the scent of lavender in the air—it was as though she had experienced it all before.

Karen followed the signs to the garden, hidden behind a small stone wall. When she pushed open the heavy iron gate and stepped inside, a wave of emotion washed over her. Before her stretched an oasis of wild greenery. Roses climbed trellises, and tall, ancient trees cast protective shadows over the moss-covered ground. In the center of the garden stood the stone bench from the brochure, yet it didn’t feel foreign.

She walked toward it slowly, her fingers brushing the leaves of the bushes as if testing whether the place was real. A faint tingling sensation ran over her skin. When she reached the bench and sat down, she felt a deep pull in her chest, so strong it momentarily took her breath away.

"I’ve been here before," she whispered. But it wasn’t just a guess. It was certainty.

Karen closed her eyes, and images began to surface in her mind. A woman in a white dress, sitting on the same bench with a book in her hands. A man whispering something to her as he stood beside her. Laughter echoing between the trees. A promise, whispered like a secret: “I will always be here when you need me.”

The images were so vivid that for a moment, she thought she was dreaming. But when she opened her eyes again, the garden was the same. The man and the woman were gone, but the feeling of their presence lingered.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned and saw an older gentleman wearing a straw hat, looking at her with curious eyes.

"Strange to see you here," he said. "I’ve never seen you before, and yet... you remind me of someone."

Karen smiled uncertainly. "I feel like I know this place. It’s as if I’ve been here before."

The man nodded slowly. "Many people say that when they come here. But with you... I don’t know. Maybe you really have been here, a long time ago."

They spent the afternoon talking. The man told stories about the garden, about the people who had lived there, and about a couple who had come together in that very spot decades ago. A woman in a white dress, a man with a gentle voice.

When Karen left the garden later, she felt light and fulfilled, as if she had regained something she thought she had lost long ago. She didn’t know if the memories she had