Steiner has this idea that if you incarnate in the “wrong” time together with people who were not incarnated at the same time as you were the last time around, you’ll experience no genuine connection with other human beings. This can happen for a number of reasons, but chiefly, the time spent between incarnations varies due to karmic factors. You can be, incarnationally speaking, out of sync. If you cannot find a connection with humankind this time around, it may be different the next — but you’ve got to keep your eyes on the time-table. Go on a charter-trip and avoid the solo tours.
Anyway, another one of his major ideas is, of course, the one that says your incarnation into earthly existence is gradual: the various invisible “bodies” are “born” in an orderly fashion at different stages; and different spiritual qualities develop at different times in life. Clearly there must be a variety of possible mishaps and deviations. Perhaps you can incarnate to quickly in one sense, and too slowly (or not at all) in another. Some qualities never develop, other aspects of your soul make-up suffer from imbalances
If you accept the framework, which I am (for obvious reasons?) averse to do, it makes a lot of sense. But let’s go with it as a hypothesis. Clearly, I incarnated to early or too late; I guess, too early would be the right explanation, because bad or evil individuals spend a shorter time (or no time at all) in the most spiritual realm, the sun sphere — you cannot bring badness into the sun sphere, it’s a very select club for the good souls –, thus they incarnate at a quicker than average speed, not being held up in higher realms, as it were. I see no reason to believe I was good, or even decent, in a previous hypothetical incarnation, so one must make this conclusion. Waiting a couple of hundred years would have done the trick, presumably, but for one reason or other, like barred access to certain places, I had to incarnate with contemporaries who are aliens. Or I am.
Then there’s the issue of incarnating into life on earth. I suppose that was always as off as can be, in my case. And you think, well, perhaps you’ll catch up, but then realize (usually in the middle of night) that you never will, that, on the contrary, other people are speeding up, leaving you even further behind. The few people you had any kind of connection with — a superficial connection, of course, which is the compulsory mode of sound contemporary relationships — grow up. Or whatever it is they do. At least, in the shallow sense, they catch up with the time-table of life.
Yet, at the same time as being insufficiently incarnated according to this loony hypothesis, I feel terribly old, positively ancient. And that is the odd thing.