What if the flower you've been unconsciously drawing your entire life is actually a map of your infinite incarnations?
From the moment I could hold a pencil, I drew the same eternal flower—a circle with expanding petals between petals, growing infinitely outward. I had no idea what it meant, just that my hand would automatically create this pattern whenever my mind wandered. It took decades and a conversation about Carl Jung's mandalas for me to realize I'd been drawing the same sacred geometry that Buddhist monks create for meditation, that represents the universe itself. But why would a child from Nigeria with no exposure to Eastern philosophy instinctively know this ancient symbol?
👉 Watch the full episode: On Mandalas and Many Worlds: Remember That You Have Lived Many Lives
The Mandala Memory: When Your Hand Remembers What Your Mind Forgot
A mandala in Sanskrit means "circle" or "sacred center"—a geometric representation of the universe used for meditation and spiritual development. For thousands of years, practitioners have created these intricate patterns to aid in focusing the mind and achieving harmony. But I didn't know any of this when I was five years old, repeatedly drawing the same eternal flower in my school notebooks.
The pattern was always identical: a circle representing the avatar, then petals representing different iterations, then more petals between those petals representing infinite variations. Looking back now, I realize I was unconsciously mapping out the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics through sacred geometry.
This wasn't unique to me. How did children worldwide play "the floor is lava" before the internet existed? How did we all build pillow forts and create identical games without communication? There's a collective consciousness, a hive mind where information flows between all expressions of the same entity having billions of experiences.
Everything Remembers: Beyond Brain Memory
We're taught that memory exists only in the brain, but neuroscientists increasingly recognize that memory extends far beyond neural networks. Your cells remember—when you cut yourself, the tissue remembers how to rebuild the exact same form, complete with scars that carry forward despite your body regenerating completely every seven years.
I believe intuition is soul memory. In James Redfield's "The Tenth Insight," he describes how before incarnating, we're shown an idealized version of our life path. We only achieve that ideal if we trust our intuition—because intuition is our consciousness remembering the blueprint we agreed to before arriving here.
The reason we don't live idealized lives isn't because we're not capable, but because we're socialized to ignore our inner knowing. We're programmed to pay attention to everything except ourselves, causing us to veer off the path our higher self designed.
The Many Actors, Same Character Theory
Think of existence like a Broadway show that becomes so successful it performs in theaters worldwide. "Wicked" plays in New York, London, Los Angeles—same characters, same story, but different actors bringing their unique interpretation to each role. Each performance has slight variations based on who's playing the characters.
Now imagine this universe operates like a quantum theater. The overall theme remains consistent—let's say "human experience on Earth"—but because it's AI-generated, each iteration contains variations. The "Jolie" character might break out of her pattern on Wednesday in New York but remain stuck in the loop when performed in London on Friday.
You're not the character—you're the consciousness playing the role. There are other consciousnesses playing versions of your character across the multiverse, just as you might play multiple variations of yourself across different timelines. The blueprint exists (your DNA), but the expression varies based on which consciousness inhabits the form and what experiences shape that incarnation.
The Circle and the Petals: Understanding Your Mandala
My eternal flower finally makes sense: the circle represents the avatar—no beginning or end, always has been. Each petal represents a different iteration of that avatar. There's a version where Jolie never writes the book, one where she writes it but doesn't publish it, another where she publishes through a traditional publisher and compromises her message.
Between each major petal are smaller petals—infinite micro-variations. Maybe she published the book but lived in a different city, or had different hair, or made different daily choices. All existing simultaneously as probabilities in the quantum field.
This is why déjà vu happens. You've experienced these moments before as different petals of your eternal flower. When you feel that strange familiarity, it's recognition from another iteration of yourself that made different choices but ended up in a similar moment.
The Question of Originals vs. Copies
Are you a copy of some "original" version of yourself? In our conversation, this question came up: is there one baseline consciousness that all variations stem from? My response: who cares?
Even if there's a prototype Jolie somewhere, I'm clearly the most colorful, interesting version. Like upgrading from the original Jeep to a fully customized model—same blueprint, infinitely better expression. The goal isn't to be the original; it's to pimp your avatar and become the most fascinating iteration of your base template.
Consider this: the first human supposedly looked quite different from modern humans. Evolution created variations that became increasingly sophisticated. Why would consciousness be any different? Each iteration builds on the last, becoming more complex and interesting.
Memory Categories and Past Life Recognition
Different types of memory exist beyond brain function:
Brain memory: What we traditionally consider memory
Cell memory: How tissue rebuilds itself identically
Soul memory: Intuitive knowledge and recognition
Heart memory: Emotional knowing that transcends logic
From childhood, I was obsessed with Victorian England, could somehow read French at age five, and felt inexplicably drawn to 18th-century European aesthetics. These weren't random preferences—they were soul memories bleeding through from past incarnations.
When you're younger, you're closer in time to your previous life, so these memories remain accessible. As your current avatar solidifies, past-life memories fade like dreams, but the core patterns persist. That's why I still paint women in classical European styles—something in my consciousness remains anchored to that period.
The Flower Metaphor: Not Everyone Can Be Everything
During our conversation, a beautiful insight emerged: "Not everyone can be flowers." Looking across the world like a great forest, you'll see abundant foliage—trees, bushes, leaves—but flowers are rare. They're what catches your attention, what stops you mid-step to appreciate beauty.
If you're reading this, you're likely a flower too. That's why you're drawn to discussions about consciousness, reality's nature, and existence's deeper meaning. Most people operate as necessary but unremarkable foliage, while a few bloom into something that arrests attention and inspires wonder.
There's nothing wrong with being a tree or bush—they serve essential functions. But flowers are special, and rare, and that's okay. The frustration you feel when others don't engage with deep ideas isn't personal failing—it's the natural result of being a flower trying to connect with foliage.
The Infinite Breathing of Consciousness
Where does it all begin? That question doesn't concern me. Where does it all end? That's where I get stuck. If there's a baseline reality, how do we know that reality is "real" rather than another layer of simulation?
The only explanation that satisfies me: all existence is the breathing of an ever-existing consciousness. A super-intelligent entity that has always been created this reality of beginnings and endings as counterbalance to eternal existence. If you were immortal and had always existed, you'd eventually create a world where everything dies—not from cruelty, but from the need for balance.
This chaotic, fragmented world where things end serves as counterpoint to an ordered, eternal realm where nothing can die. Yin and yang, shadow and form, temporary and eternal—all expressions of the same consciousness seeking equilibrium across infinite experience.
Remember: you are not this body having a spiritual experience. You are eternal consciousness having a temporary human experience, and you've done this many times before.
👉 Watch the full episode: On Mandalas and Many Worlds: Remember That You Have Lived Many Lives
Quick Questions
Q: How can childhood drawings indicate past life memories? A: Children are closer to their previous incarnations before the current avatar fully solidifies. Unconscious patterns like repeatedly drawing sacred geometry suggest soul memory bleeding through from past lives where that knowledge was central.
Q: What's the difference between being an "original" vs. a "copy" of yourself? A: It doesn't matter. Even if you're a variation of some baseline template, you can customize and improve upon that blueprint. The goal is to become the most interesting iteration of yourself, not to be the first.
Q: Why do some people seem interested in deeper reality while others stay surface-level? A: Using a flower metaphor: not everyone can be flowers. Most people serve as necessary foliage (trees, bushes, leaves), while a few rare individuals bloom into consciousness that seeks understanding beyond basic survival.
Q: How do mandalas relate to the many-worlds interpretation of reality? A: Mandalas map infinite variations of existence—the center represents your eternal avatar, each petal represents different life iterations, and the expanding pattern shows how infinite variations exist simultaneously across the multiverse.
Related Episodes
• The "Gods" Walk Amongst Us: Own Your Godhood • Edit the past. How to shift realities by editing your memories • Quantum Immortality and The Power of Infinity • Death, Time Travel & Immortality: Why You Might Never Truly Die