A Past Life Recalling

So, this particular writing is a little different than what I typically write. If you know me, then you know that my connection to Elvis is VERY deep and undeniable. The connection I have to him compared to my other "crushes" is also different and on a completely different level. With the others, there is a romantic and often times sexual connection that I develop with characters based upon myself. However, Elvis has a special spiritual connection with me and rarely if ever goes into the same territory. This was reignited when I was in my Master Reiki class this past weekend. He is one of my strongest spiritual guides and completely dominated my clearing. With the support of my circle, he brought me back to myself and the connection that I have with him and had admittedly drifted from. This may sound very unusual to many people, but what follows has been screaming to be written for the last two days. It is unedited and was the ultimate outpouring directly from my soul (tears and all).

 

My first meeting and connection with Elvis has always been clouded in mystery. I truly don’t recall the friend or particular circumstances of how I crossed the threshold of Graceland in August of 1958. It was not long after his mother had passed. I found myself having a quiet moment with E as he grieved and even attempted to excuse myself as he barely knew me. Of course I was aware of him and more so following this day. He told me that it was okay and I introduced myself and sat quietly with him and let him talk. But, there was little time to unpack or provide much comfort even though the emotional impact of her sudden loss clearly weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had to return to Germany to fulfill his stint with the United States Army and although he hadn’t asked me for it, he’d gotten ahold of my address and the letters started. Between October of 1958 and February of 1960 it seemed a letter would come every other month. Some, he would pour out his heart as if we were a couple. In others, he asked me about myself and was apologetic that he hadn’t taken the time when we met. I assured him that there was no harm and that I was happy to be there for him when he needed it. He expressed wonderment at how he felt as if he had known me for his whole life and hoped that I would come see him when he returned. I agreed and was curious as to where this would lead. E is a beautiful man and his presence filled a room without even trying. It was well known that he’d dated quite frequently and sometimes multiple women were in his sights at a time. However, I felt that despite some more intimate letters, they never went into territory that was uncomfortable. He just wanted to be with me and talk. 

When he returned, it wasn’t long after he’d settled back at home that I was called to Graceland. Eyes were on me as I entered and those same eyes widened with surprise as E walked downstairs and held me tighter than anyone had ever held me in my whole life. My heart clenched and I felt tears forming behind my eyes as he pulled away. “I missed you”, he tilted my chin and kissed me softly, tears sliding down my cheeks. “Don’t cry baby, it’s just me.” He briefly introduced me to his friends, but made it clear that he was going to be alone with me for a while. I could only imagine what was going through their minds as I was a virtual stranger and just another woman that E had attached to. But, it wasn’t like that at all. Wherever we settled ourselves when I would visit nothing more intimate than holding each other and kissing transpired. It just wasn’t that kind of connection. Most of our time was spent talking. We talked about a little of everything, but most of it was focused within spirituality and what we believed. He was fascinated by experience as a healer and had no judgements, only a desire to experience and learn. He was an open book when it came to his belief in God, but didn’t deter others from how they felt and kept his options open in terms of what was out there. It was very uncommon for a person to be so open to practicing something that didn’t fall into the WASP ideals of America at the time. 

As the sixties continued and his involvement in films moved forward, these meetings were not as frequent. But, I would receive the occasional phone call and we would talk about what he was going through emotionally and his desires moving forward. Around this time, his relationship with Priscilla was also evolving into what would eventually lead to marriage and a child. My presence for her was unwanted, there was an element of jealousy that I detected at how easily he and I could talk. I felt bad about it and let the contact wane on my end for a time. It was during this period that I would notice his songs coming onto the radio more frequently and seeming to draw me back. One that hit particularly hard was in 1966 following the filming of “Frankie and Johnny”. Whether it was purposeful or not, the song felt like it was squashing my heart. I felt guilty for drifting away, but our relationship was a little unusual and I wasn’t the woman he was going to marry. Me as a close friend just didn’t hit the same way in the ‘60s as it does now. The assumption was always an affair, no matter what explanation-if any-was provided. But since then, every time I hear “Please Don’t Stop Loving Me”, there is a pang that hits my heart. I promised that I wouldn’t and after that session life continued to speed by. 

His energy shifted in 1968, his big “comeback” year. He was leaving behind the frustrations of filming movies that he didn’t like and back to what he really loved. He made sure I attended shows periodically and we started to spend time together again between his shows in Vegas. He was clearly happy with the direction things were going and had so many plans. It made me so happy to see him on this high! He rode that high into the early 70s before things shifted again.

My own life was shifting at this time, but E was never far from my mind. Thankfully the new man in my life thought it was the greatest thing in the world that I was close with Elvis Presley. I didn’t talk about it much, but it was more or less because my energy was focused elsewhere. I kept up with E as best I could, but something felt wrong and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t seem to reach him. To this day, in this life, I struggle when I see him in the years after 1973. I can feel the loneliness and the sadness that he shielded with the prescriptions he didn’t need and keeping himself surrounded by people 24/7-grasping for constant validation. I never knew if he felt the love I sent his way or if he ever got those final letters. What I do know is that the morning of August 16, 1977 I could feel my heart tearing in two. I didn’t need to listen to the radio to know that he was gone. The remainder of my life is shrouded and I don’t have a recall of anything following his departure. I can only speculate that I left that life with a broken heart, only to return and reconnect with the man who loved me and reminded me that I loved him in the deepest spiritual way you can imagine. I may have doubts from time to time, but his songs make me laugh, smile, and sometimes cry as they speak to my heart and soul. I could even swear that as I finish writing this and my throat tightens with the threat of tears, that his hand has brushed through my hair as goosebumps travel down my left side-”Today, Tomorrow, and Forever” playing.