Changing Time

“Tell me about that piece of paper – the one with the musical score.”

Rebecca was puzzled.

“What paper? What music?”

Five minutes earlier, she had finished giving me a massage and left the room so I could get dressed.

After putting on my clothes, I had reached for my glasses before putting on my shoes and socks. As I put the glasses on my face, I noticed a paper on Rebecca’s desk. It was a musical score. It opened with octave quarter notes followed by triplets.

Suddenly, my head began to spin and I was in another place and time. I had dreamed this. Someone had given me a saxophone, my primary instrument in college, put the musical score in front me, and told me to play.

I played.

When I awoke, I wondered what the dream meant. I hadn’t played a saxophone since the early eighties.

Now, the score from my dream was on Rebecca’s desk, so I went to the door and called for her.

Rebecca explained that the paper was scratch paper, left behind by her boyfriend who led a championship bagpipe group. She said it had no importance.

I knew otherwise.

Then she said something profound.

Clock in hands“Time isn’t what we think it is. It isn’t linear. It is cyclical. Sometimes the end happens before the beginning.”

I looked at her in astonishment.

She realized how ridiculous she must have sounded and began to explain.

“I don’t know where that came from. I just channeled that.”

I smiled.

“I’m not surprised. I was listening to a recorded interview yesterday and I heard someone say the exact same thing – in the exact same words.”

Her eyes went wide with astonishment.

“You heard someone say the exact same thing in the exact same words? I’ve never thought of time like that.”

I briefly explained about an interview that Bill Wood and David Wilcock did with Kerry Cassidy on Project Camelot Radio. The wide-ranging conversation covered a variety of topics. I had a memory of Wood making the statement about time.

We looked at one another. We each knew both of us had a foot in the real world and a foot in the dream world. We both knew there was an important message here. We each strove to grasp it.

Rebecca had another appointment and I did too, so we didn’t pursue the matter any further.

A few weeks later, my son walked into my office.

“If I go back into my memories and relive a situation and respond differently, I heal my emotions over the situation.”

Peter doesn’t talk much, so sometimes his communication is both awkward and profound.

While I processed what he said, he asked the question as I thought it.

“Does that change the past?”

I remembered what I had heard in the interview. I remembered what Rebecca had said to me about my dream.

I thought about Peter’s question.

Is it possible to change the past?

What do you think?

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