After writing the post about dreams I've been thinking more about the nature of personal reality. The first time I crossed the English Channel and saw the white cliffs of Dover I was overwhelmed with the emotion of coming home and began to cry. I don't know why I felt that way but I did. I assumed it was because of a past life memory but it didn't have the feel of one. Then a couple of years later while taking a workshop they had us see if we recognized our main archetype and I was surprised to discover mine was a writer rather than the expected goddess, saint etc. My impression was the writer was in a cottage in England and reminded me of the emotion I felt when I saw the white cliffs of Dover. I don't know that I properly completed the exercise since the goal was to free oneself from archetypal influence but apparently I didn't because I have had several glimpses of that same experience. The jury is still out on what it all means.