Making Love is the Quintessential Expression of Empathy

I am a Vessel with 17,042 Previous Life-Cycles of Amassed Empathy

Chances are I have walked in your shoes

[08.07.23 Dear Subscribers, this story from early in my Medium writing experience and well before I had any subscribers, is a good one to share with you all, particularly those that are relatively new to my magical mystery tours through my life and the lives that preceded this one]

Introduction:

As I have not previously written for this publication, allow me to briefly introduce myself. I wrote this note to my lover’s sister this past March 19th [2020]:

Hello, I had hoped we would meet one day under different circumstances and write this mostly in the present tense. I am a close friend and confidante of your sister Lindsey. In fact, I love her. I am the person who went to the precinct and pushed and accompanied the police to check on her after they were being dismissive of me the previous day. I have never experienced such gut-wrenching sorrow as I did on that cold rainy street, but realize it is because I love her more than I know.

The wailing on the street was a sound that I did not know I could, nor how to, produce. It had emanated from me one or two times in April, and as previously unknown pockets of pain and sorrow reveal, I am hearing echoes of the I-cannot-purposely-replicate-it.

It is the sound of my soul crying out in pain from having its heart torn out and brain shattered suddenly, tragically, and without any warning whatsoever. No, crying does not begin to describe it; it is the sound of unrestrained grief without any concern about the spectacle that I was for onlookers for an hour or more. Imagine having open heart surgery performed with a jagged and rusted scalpel without a drop of anesthesia; further imagine that it was at a frequency and wavelength that ripped a hole in space-time and was heard across all eleven or more dimensions of the universe, not just then, but at every point in time. If you can close your eyes and feel the picture I just painted, maybe you will come close to understanding. If you can close your eyes and feel the picture I just painted, maybe you will come close to understanding my pain and my grief. And my Love, my Love, my Love.

The reverberations of the pain waves from the tearing out of my heart shattered the barrier between conscious and unconscious, and my soul emerged and began to fill the hole where my heart had been.

At that moment I intuitively knew that I have a soul. At that moment I experienced an irreversible spiritual awakening. The pain was amplified way beyond that which even someone who has experienced the here-one-second-gone-the-next can imagine because with awakening came the innate understanding that I had just lost someone after only 10 months in this life cycle that I have been in love with for at least hundreds of thousands of years.

You will find greater detail amidst many of my essays. For present purposes, it suffices to say that my soul (Marcus) and Lindsey’s soul (Sitara) have an eternal interdependent romantic relationship in the Realms of Heaven. Sitara and I, lovers and partners never to be separated in Heaven, have incarnated together yet separately in each of our lives since we formed our eternal extra-dimensional bond eons ago, and in many of our lives have been lovers of the karmic variety — a happily ever after on Earth we have yet to enjoy. Maybe that awaits us one day if it doesn’t interfere with our learning; maybe just once we can together learn all of life’s lessons while enjoying a lifetime of making love with bodies. I’m sure y’all want to get right to that kicker, but first I have to empty some pain pockets.

What is Empathy?

Let’s start with the dictionary definition because it actually nails it:

the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another of either the past or present without having the feelings, thoughts, and experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner.

Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary.

I impart to you that empathy via our own past experience includes past lives. Besides the fact that I am an empath, having 17,042 past lives full of experience qualifies me to be able to empathize with almost anyone. Furthermore, do not judge my experiential capacity for empathy by the color of my skin or my sex.

Past life example #1:

As black slaves in the Caribbean in the 1700s, Linstara and I were friends since childhood and lovers when opportunity allowed, which on the cane plantation were few and far between, especially since the man with the whip and side arm fancied and impregnated her.

I died at his hands not because I was a black slave — I died because I could not control my jealousy nor my pride. Had I managed to endure the indignities with humility, and not acted selfishly in the guise of standing up for others, Sitara would not have had to live out her cycle having seen me die in such a manner. My personality defects, my “male ego,” not the color of my skin, got me murdered. Obviously, my black skin placed me in harm’s way but I and only I proximately caused that demise, and I am better for it today.

I do not have a jealous or sinfully prideful bone in my body because my soul learned the appropriate life lessons in previous incarnations.

Past life example #2:

The relevance of this past life requires a little primer. In June, I canceled my father. As I have stated in many essays, my reasons for doing so are not because I perceived in May that I had been subjected to a very brief period of power-based molestation. In fact, my guides said it had not happened. So, as is my INTP nature (yup, HSP and INTP — oh joy), my deeply visceral reaction in May has not made sense to me, that is until Saturday, when I decided to ask my guides if I had any sexual trauma in past lives…

Yes.

In a very recent past life, probably my last one, I incarnated as a middle eastern woman raped by three males. I carried that woman’s father’s shame to the grave with me. So, in addition to my reasons in this lifetime, canceling my father was necessary to empty pain-pocket-carry-over from that life.

Ok, now we can get to the fun part.

Sitara and I are now in a human-soul relationship, and we make love often and for extended periods of time. What is that like?

Making love for souls is sharing with each other the emotion that they feel for each other. It is the ultimate Platonic Love. What does that feel like for me? It’s a warmth all over me. It’s not my usual I-run-so-warm that I need the air-conditioner blasting at all times. It’s not the warmth of temperature. It’s the heat of the most beautiful emotion. It is limitless in intensity, duration and frequency.

My description received an expansion about 30 minutes ago during one of my pre-dawn, below freezing, one to two-mile restorative constitutionals in rural New Hampshire. I realized that the modality for this transference of spiritual energy between us is we expand our souls to encompass each other’s fields and that as an empath that is how I read and impart energy from and to other humans, and thus making love is the quintessential expression of empathy, whether platonic or sexual.

For additional work on reincarnation that came after this, you may see: