Remembering Past Lives in Ancient Greece

As the plane touched down on the runway in Athens, a thought spontaneously popped into my head:

“I’m home.”

The thing is, I had no business saying that.

Though I grew up in the Greek Orthodox Church, I’m Romanian by birth, not Greek. It was also my first time in Europe.

I didn’t speak the language. I didn’t have any birthright. And besides my interest in Greek mythology, I had very little technical ties to Greece.

And yet I felt it: An immediate connection with a land I had never before stepped foot on…in this lifetime at least.

Too enamored by the views of the Acropolis and trying to navigate my new roommates and apartment situation, I didn’t give this topic much more thought than in the moment we landed.

I was 20 years old and studying abroad in Athens for a semester. I expected it would be an unforgettable experience, but I didn’t realize that this trip would plant such a deep seed that would take the next decade to sprout.

The next time I would revisit this concept of “home" happened during my first full-body remembering of living in Ancient Greece, and there’s no way I could’ve expected it.

This remembering happened at the Temple of Artemis at Brauron.

For those who haven’t yet become acquainted with the Wild Woman that is the Goddess Artemis, allow me to introduce you.

The daughter of Zeus and the twin sister of Apollo, Artemis was the Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt.

As one of the 3 Virgin Goddesses, along with Athena and Hestia, she was never victimized or taken advantage of. Virgin here means “untouched” and “one-in-herself.”

Though she had a few romantic interests, relationships weren’t her thing and she was never married.

Artemis’ domain was the mountainside, which she hunted with her short tunic, bows and arrows, and pack of wild dogs.

She answered to no one and was a formidable opponent. To offend Artemis was deadly.

And yet there is a softness to her…at least for those who understand her other side.

After having assisted her own mother in the birth of her twin brother. she became known as the protectress of young girls and women in childbirth.

As perilous as it was to offend Artemis, it was a gift to be protected by her.

It would be another decade before I’d start to dive into the depth of my relationship with Artemis as both a Goddess and Archetype, but for now, I’ll just recount the moment of my remembering.

One Saturday, my classmates and I geared up for a day trip to Brauron, which is located just outside of Athens.

All of our school-sponsored trips involved wandering around the museums associated with each ancient site and a lecture that I had varying amounts of interest in depending on how engaging the speaker was.

While the information was interesting, what I wanted more than anything was to be as close to the ruins of the temple as possible.

I was desperate to learn what it was like to actually visit these sanctuaries before they fell into ruins.

Once the tour was over and I had the chance, I went outside to look at the temple grounds.

The beauty of it took my breath away.

My eyes were immediately drawn to the cluster of trees and the beautiful brook running behind the temple.

Part of the temple structure remains standing on one side, with some smaller remnants around it. Certainly not enough to see it in its whole glory, but enough to give you a sense of the size and feel.

I closed my eyes and felt a gentle breeze, which was refreshing in the heat and humidity of the late Greek summer.

The faintest sound of the brook could be heard in the distance, and then it happened.

Images of myself among other women, dressed in white, attending to each other, the Temple, and the other women in our care.

I didn’t have the language at the time to put it together that I was a Priestess.

In my mind’s eye I saw the temple structure standing, surrounded by more trees. It was incredibly lush, almost as if we were surrounded by a miniature forest.

The brook wove through the grounds, providing a soothing sound no matter you went.

There was no fighting, no competition, no cattiness. Just a quiet respect amongst each other that was palpable.

It felt…safe. Nourishing. A genuine sanctuary.

The out-of-body/out-of-time experience didn’t last for very long, but it has stayed with me ever since.

In the years since, I’ve returned to that past-life memory and the others I had in Greece and deepened my remembering of them.

I remember what it was like to sit in circle with other women.

I remember what it was like to learn ancient healing technologies.

I remember what it was like to connect to the earth, the ancient Gods & Goddesses, and to feel a kind of freedom that Christianity and the rise of patriarchy robbed us of.

It’s taken me years to be able to speak out loud and claim that I fully believe in past-lives and even more so, remembering and connecting with them in the present.

And even more so, it’s taken a lot of work to claim that Ancient Greece was one of my soul’s first homes on this planet and the reason why my body remembered it before my mind.

If you feel inexplicably drawn to an ancient civilization, it’s very likely that this is the case for you as well.

While most people aren’t going to understand your fascination and even fewer will accept the past-life theory, don’t give up on your soul’s knowing that you feel connected with an ancient civilization for a reason.