I'm going to risk a temporary topic "diversion" here. As a small child about four years old, I heard my first classical music on my uncle's old Victrola. Ezio Pinza was singing a Mozart aria. I sat there on the floor in front of it, with my hand over my heart as I wailed. My startled mother asked what was wrong and I told her ..." it's so beautiful ... I like it so much".
My family had no interest in classical music whatsoever. I was finally given my first piano lesson at 9 ... and went on to make music my life.
But some time later in my teens, I ran across a book about Reincarnation. I remember at that time, suddenly feeling the world made sense. My love of Mozart and the fact that as a very small child, I was deeply puzzled by "perspective" and the fact that no one else in that kindergarten "art" class seemed to realize that objects were smaller in the distance. I remember checking it out a couple of times. And then the odd "passions" ... for bleak high mountain tops and lotuses. Interspersed with some deep fears ... of water and being confined in small spaces. And then I understood. My many lives.
Today I happily succumb to these "passions" ... seeing them as my recognition of other times. I forgive myself for taking 144 swimming lessons before being able to lift both legs off the bottom of the pool and take a few strokes ... because I remember drowning. And then when I feel drawn to a particular piece of music, I study the historical era in which it was composed. And sometimes images come and I feel deeply privileged. Today when I feel that stirring somewhere in the region of my heart. I accept a "memory link". And I follow it with joy.
( Okay this is a little eccentric for a PW post .. but I hope it offers one possible answer ... .