As someone who stands outside of all the mainstream religious institutions, there are some things that, once upon a time, were kind of tricky to do without bending or breaking either one’s beliefs or the law.

Back in the early days of the World Wide Web, a group came along that made doing at least one of those things infinitely easier.

The Universal Life Church hit the Web kind of big in the mid to late 1990s. I was in college and involved more than a bit with a group of self-identified pagans, witches and other assorted metaphysicists. Creative and caring people, all, we were thrilled to hear that we could now become ordained as ministers with just a few clicks of the mouse.

What did that mean? Mostly, at that time, for most of us, we could wave around a fancy title and wistfully drone on about how we were now “official” in one sense or another. On a deeper level, though, it meant that in the eyes of the law, we were now able to do things that only the hierarchy of the major religions or duly appointed civil officials could do. Things like officiate weddings and create congregations.

Many who become ordained by the ULC do nothing other than smile with the knowledge that they’ve “bucked the system” just a little bit. So there is little danger of things actually going bad.

Those who do use their new credentials, do so to perform weddings for their friends, help build community, and take on the task of becoming educators and spokes people for their particular brands of faith. They are empowered to become better, they seek out the knowledge and wisdom–or use their official ordination to legally put that knowledge and wisdom to good use.

The world has changed a lot since the ULC first hit the web. Minority religions have gained much more recognition–usually by tooth and nail legal battles against those who just don’t understand where they’re coming from. Wicca and a few other pagan religions are officially recognized now and there’s not quite as much need for the “anyone can get ordained” credo of the ULC.

More than a decade since I first clicked through the original ULC website, I’ve re-registered and become (again) an ordained minister. This time, I’ve dropped the few dollars to have all the paperwork printed up and sent to me.

This time, I’ve got a much more clear purpose. Years of actual work and contemlation, study and practice, have lead me to the knowledge and wisdom that I think any practicing minister (of any faith) should have. Now I can proudly and more legitimately lay claim to a title of authority–no matter the issuing body.

But more important than all that, I’ve been asked to officiate the wedding of a dear old friend’s sister-in-law.

And that–that bit of trust and respect, that call for responsibility–would make me jump through just about any hoop to make it happen.

Whenever I go into a new place for the first time, be it a public space or a private one, I like to get there before the big crowd shows up.

If at all possible, being there alone is preferable.

In that time, before the rolling froth of individuals churns through the aether, I can get what I like to consider a baseline reading of the location.

It’s nothing too fancy or complex… just a feeling for the default state of things.

Why? Because then, when things get wild and crazy later on, I have an anchor point–somewhere to link my own personal balance to, somewhere to retreat to if I need to let a storm pass.

Sure, without that baseline reading, I can still go by my own tried and true baseline, my personal Universal anchor point. But that leaves me feeling very disconnected from the world around me and truly reduces my effectiveness in restoring balance to a situation (if such action is needed).

It’s been my experience that most people–especially those who are just starting to get the feel for the deeper energies of the world around and within them–just go bobbing along with the tide or spend all their energy fighting the direction of the current. Neither of these reactions is exceptionally conducive to creating change or encouraging personal growth.

By finding an anchor point in the regional baseline–in the raw egregore of the location–you share a connection with everyone else there. The difference is, you have a solid reference point from which to judge how things are going. You can differentiate between “This isn’t what I like” and “This is actually going in a bad direction.” More importantly, because of that connection to the location and the masses that inhabit it, you can serve as a pivot-point to help redirect negative energy and assist in avoiding unnecessary conflict.

How do I do it? Mostly just be quietly opening myself up to the energies of an area. Deep breathing, an open mind, and being aware of my own personal center all help. When the connection with the local baseline is made, I feel a distinct “thunk” of things falling into place. Like the dropping of a metaphysical anchor. From that point on, I can take better control of my own motions through the environment–either letting that anchor skitter along that baseline or dropping it full down to let me hold my position.

Of course, totally pulling up (or cutting loose) that anchor is also an option. If you’re going to do that, though, you better have a quick exit strategy planned or be ready to bob around a bit violently if you’re in stormy weather.

Between knowing your personal baseline and being familiar with where you are, you’re automatically in a better position to deal with whatever comes along–be it good or bad.

Just this past weekend, while on my way out of a party for a friend of mine, I was stopped by a lovely young woman.

“I know you,” she said.

“From where?” I was curious as I had noticed her a little while earlier and couldn’t shake the feeling that she seemed a little familiar.

“Probably from another lifetime,” she said, not the slightest bit unsure of herself.

“I’d accept that,” I said with a smile, wishing that I wasn’t already running a little late for the next place I had to be. Giving her my contact information I said, “Please be sure to find me again. I’d like that.”

And off I went to next stop for the night.

But that moment has stuck with me.

Those moments always stick with me.

And there have been a good number of them over the years.

I do most definitely believe in reincarnation of one flavor or another. I’ve had enough personal experiences to make that belief unshakable. As is the case with most metaphysical things, though, I don’t ever expect anyone else to buy into the idea. So it’s always something a little special when someone broaches the subject right off the top. Even more special when there’s a chance our paths have crossed before.

This sort of thing really came into focus for me when I hit college. Very quickly, as I met many new people, some resonated with me more than others. As we discovered more about each other, we found not only a number of common interests but some very unusual commonalities as well. Key among those strange overlaps were memories of things neither of us had done in this lifetime.

My first reaction is usually to write it off as overactive imagination–gleaned bits of insight from regular interaction percolating through the subconscious and presenting imagination dressed as memory. That got more difficult as the details got more specific. Even more so when we’d get together and compare notes we’d written before we knew each other and find the same striking similarities of vision.

The Universe does not waste anything. Everything changes, is taken apart, reformed, reused. Science tells us that matter and energy are at least somewhat interchangeable, that there is a conservation of mass, that matter (in the broadest sense) cannot be created or destroyed.

If we hold that to be true, than our physical bodies alone are made of bits that have been used before. All of our base material was once part of something–or someone–else. We are star stuff.

And if our physical bodies can lay claim to such a vast and impressive pedigree, why not the non-physical parts of us as well?

There is currently no reliable way to measure those ethereal bits that may or may not make us who we are–that whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. But for those of us who have been touched by insight into the cycles we all go through, lifetime after lifetime, the value of that quantity becomes clear.

Without a doubt, I can say we all go around and eventually come back again. Our paths cross the same people again and again, each time letting us play different parts for one another. Sometimes we’re lucky enough to realize those deep connections and work through to something greater. Sometimes its only long after the fact that we realize how far back a love or friendship can be traced.

I don’t know if the girl from the party will ever cross my path again in this lifetime, but I’d like it to happen. Not because she was attractive or because I think its a novel way to make new friends, but because exploring those possible connections brings all involved closer to being more complete.

Have you ever felt that kind of deja vu when meeting someone for the first time? Have you ever compared notes with a friend and discovered you share a secret history?