“Sixsmith, I climb the steps of the Scott monument every morning and all becomes clear. Wish I could make you see this brightness. Don’t worry, all is well. All is so perfectly, damnably well. I understand now that boundaries between noise and sound are conventions. All boundaries are conventions, waiting to be transcended. One may transcend any convention if only one can first conceive of doing so. Moments like this, I can feel your heart beating as clearly as I feel my own, and I know that separation is an illusion. My life extends far beyond the limitations of me.”
— Robert Frobisher. Letter to Rufus Sixsmith (from the film, Cloud Atlas)
In the recent film, “Cloud Atlas,” conventional boundaries of every sort are explored, transcended, and obliterated through a process of being transposed across generations of time, limitless space, and through the amazing interplay of personal liaisons which, in some way, contain a haunting awareness of connections that defy our commonsense notions of our temporal “limitations.”
Each of us, no matter how obscure or prominent we are in our day, are connected in ways that we seldom appreciate fully. There are many ways in which people can be connected, but certain connections are especially prescient, when we find ourselves confronted by the presence of particular kindred spirits, whose character, personality, or personal history, resonate so well with ours, that we are compelled to engage them, without necessarily understanding precisely why we feel so compelled. In his novel, “Cloud Atlas,” Mitchell expresses this idea well:
“Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.”
― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas
As we all know, the heart is not a logical organ. It can bring us to our knees in moments of pain from betrayal, or when the pain of separation strikes. Such circumstances not only affect us emotionally, but the pain we experience can be accompanied by confusion and bewilderment on a scale which exceeds our ability to cope. Imagine, if you will, this very same pain being accompanied by the inclusion of memories that clearly could not have taken place during that period of temporal incarnation. Ordinarily, such experiences would be thought of as unusual, encompassing a most controversial and speculative subject. However, it is not without precedent, nor are such beliefs uncommon in cultures throughout the world.
“Belief, like fear or love, is a force to be understood as we understand the theory of relativity and principals of uncertainty. Phenomena that determine the course of our lives. Yesterday, my life was headed in one direction. Today, it is headed in another. Yesterday, I believe I would never have done what I did today. These forces that often remake time and space, that can shape and alter who we imagine ourselves to be, begin long before we are born and continue after we perish. Our lives and our choices, like quantum trajectories, are understood moment to moment. That each point of intersection, each encounter, suggests a new potential direction. Proposition, I have fallen in love with Luisa Rey. Is this possible? I just met her and yet, I feel like something important has happened to me.”
― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas
I have had, throughout my entire adult life, difficulty adjusting to the awareness of memories which clearly do not seem to have been possible to acquire during my current existence. Periodically, since the initial encounter with the story of Jonas Rice, the character at the heart of these recollections, I have encountered individuals who have brought these issues, sometimes abruptly and inconveniently, to the surface. Each encounter with this kindred spirit in Massachusetts, whose presence always seemed to precipitate such extraordinary experiences, led me to pursue intuitive and occasionally obscure paths and directions in the course of my investigations. I do not pretend to completely understand what it was exactly that led me to become aware of this information, and while it stretches the imagination just to entertain the notion of the possibility of connections between lives over generations as depicted in the film, “Cloud Atlas,” I can only report that I sensed these kinds of connections profoundly in my own experience, and cannot offer much in the way of empirical proof beyond my own subjective recall of these experiences and my vivid personal sense of their integrity. I have not wished for any of it, and quite frankly would rather have been a wiz at math or a Maytag repairman.
Over the years, I have endeavored with all my strength to avoid these thoughts and to deny them to myself. I have spent countless hours in a variety of different forms of pain–seemingly endless stretches of unavoidable suffering, attempting to evade even acknowledging that such thoughts existed within me. There were even times when, for brief periods, I was able to convince myself that I had gotten past the danger, and that by somehow dodging and not confronting them for a long enough time, I could quell them and silence my mind. But each new encounter brought me within proximity to a miracle–a spirit so dynamic and wondrous, that whenever I drew near, my very life force trembled. I seemed to abandon all my senses; my psyche would be flooded with memories and feelings that made me feel as though I was someone else–assuming a different identity and personality–acting in ways that I could not explain even to myself.
–next time….the reckoning before the journey overseas…