My past life

**Raphael** · 15th December 09, 12:20 PM

Last night at dinner, I mentioned to my fiance that I feel more comfortable wearing a kilt than a suit. That should not be surprising to her and to you guys. I pointed out that I would not feel right if I have to attend wedding or other fancy dress event with a pant suit.

Then she said,'May be you were a Highland Scot in your last life.'

That makes sence to me and I will be kilting up for a Christmas networking event tonight.

**csbdr** · 15th December 09, 12:39 PM

I certainly think I was. I've loved the pipes since I was a young boy, and didn't have a clue my ancestors were scottish until recently.

**Inchessi** · 15th December 09, 01:19 PM

If I may paraphrase the Late Great Douglas Adams:

He was a direct descendant of Genghis Kahn. After generations of bloodline dilution, the only thing they had in common was a desire to wear floppy furry hats.

So yeah, I guess this would explain some of my tendencies.

**Highlander31** · 15th December 09, 01:26 PM

Originally Posted by Raphael

Last night at dinner, I mentioned to my fiance that I feel more comfortable wearing a kilt than a suit. That should not be surprising to her and to you guys. I pointed out that I would not feel right if I have to attend wedding or other fancy dress event with a pant suit.

Then she said,'May be you were a Highland Scot in your last life.'

That makes sence to me and I will be kilting up for a Christmas networking event tonight.

A few years ago, the Chinese government discovered several well preserved mummies in their Western Desert. They were dated at approximately 5000 years old, and were dressed in tartan and had red hair. It appears these Celts were traders, and would have lived (and probably mixed) with the native population.

Raphael, it's entirely possible that you have Celtic blood running in your veins.

**Tobus** · 15th December 09, 02:47 PM

Originally Posted by Highlander31

A few years ago, the Chinese government discovered several well preserved mummies in their Western Desert. They were dated at approximately 5000 years old, and were dressed in tartan and had red hair. It appears these Celts were traders, and would have lived (and probably mixed) with the native population.

Raphael, it's entirely possible that you have Celtic blood running in your veins.

Now that's a downright fascinating theory! 5,000 year old tartan... what clan was it?

My own belief, not proven by any scientific method, is that there's way more involved in genetics than we realize. Everything we are is a result of who we came from.

All my life, I've not been able to stand wearing short socks. If I'm going to wear socks, I like them to come up over my calves. It just don't feel right wearing short socks. So when I got into wearing the kilt, it just felt 'right' to wear kilt hose. It's like I was genetically predisposed to prefer kilt hose over normal socks!

And I've always been most comfortable when it's grey and cloudy and drizzly outside.

Coincidence? I think not! It's my Celtic ancestry!

**jgcunningham** · 19th December 09, 07:44 AM

Originally Posted by Tobus

All my life, I've not been able to stand wearing short socks. If I'm going to wear socks, I like them to come up over my calves. It just don't feel right wearing short socks. So when I got into wearing the kilt, it just felt 'right' to wear kilt hose. It's like I was genetically predisposed to prefer kilt hose over normal socks! ..... Coincidence? I think not! It's my Celtic ancestry!

I knew I couldn't be the only one who felt that way about socks! I have to wear over-the-calf socks or it just feels odd. Something about the p@nts legs rubbing against my bare calves drives me crazy. Maybe it's my Scottish kilt-and-hose-wearing genes working their way to the forefront.

**Lachlan09** · 23rd December 09, 03:55 AM

I can’t say I've ever had kilt-related feelings of deja-vu, but at one time I had strong vibes about being a British WW2 operative in Paris, running from the SS. I remember events vividly, even now. It was a sunny afternoon. I ran out of the cobbled street into a communal apartment stairway and was seeking shelter at the different apartment doors as I ran upstairs and tried the doors and knocked. I remember the echoing sounds of my leather shoes on the stone stairs, mixed cooking and domestic gas smells in the stairway and the sun shining through the apex-roof-light and dust in the air. Unable to find shelter, I rushed back down the stairs to try to escape into the street again, but Germans appeared when I still had just a few steps to go and shot me dead point-blank in a couple of MP40 bursts. I remember the shock of them appearing so soon, the feeling of being punched all over my body and breathlessness, everything dulling to grey, then nothing and it’s all black. FIN. It must have been a dream, of course, but if it was a dream, it’s the only one of many dreams in all those years that I’ve remembered so clearly till now.