I have come to embrace that there is only now, this moment, and that everything only happens within it. That there is no future, nor is there a past. That everything is always being experienced in the present. That my “memories” are not memories at all, but rather glimpses into a life… still being lived.
When the student is ready, the AHA’s will emerge.
So when I experienced flashes of another life, they came not as an echo would, but more as events of which I was presently immersed.
Interestingly two of those flashes were from lifetimes from the 17th century.
My first experience sits with me like a lost friend even with the pain of it all.
I was a Choctaw woman, dressed in modern attire of that time (corseted, etc.), even though, my environment was not conducive for such attire… nor was my lifestyle.
I had fallen to the ground.
I was afraid.
My people were under attack by a cavalry of White soldiers.
Dust was everywhere.
My people screamed in terror.
In front of me stood a tipi; a plain white thing sticking out like a sore thumb. Was this a symbol of our surrender?
A child falls in front of me.
Horses rush in; trampling anything in their path.
Everything fades to black.
That experience came to me as I was drifting to sleep. Unintentionally so as I was listening to the Many Lives, Many Masters audiobook by Dr. Brian L. Weiss. (My bad, Brian.)
Here this was a book about past life experiences, and I end up experiencing one as I am listening. Talk about Cosmic Deliciousness.
My second experience is the shortest memory of them all.
It is the 12th century, and I believe I am somewhere in England.
I am a sorceress.
And my rival is obviously not a fan.
She is jealous of my abilities and popularity.
So much so that she places a curse upon me that I would eventually break free of… some 600 years later!
What a Bitch! 😉
The third experience finds me in France. This glimpse came when I was awake and pondering current patterns in my life.
Poor with too many mouths to feed. I seem to be a single mother, and I am unsure as to what has become of my husband.
Was I even married???
There is not enough food. Everyone is hungry; painfully so.
My thoughts are only on myself. I must survive at all costs.
I take from the mouths of my children to sustain my pathetic existence.
My oldest boy dies due to malnutrition.
I am left numb; haunted by my selfishness; staring into nothing.
Can you say, “depressing”? UGH!
Parts of my fourth life have seeped into this one.
In 2003, against many Divine knocks upon my head, I moved in with a man I did not love or barely liked, who cheated on me (and every other woman) every chance he got, and lied just as much.
I am grateful that that experience did not wipe the beautiful smile from my son’s face.
I would repeat that cycle in the Summer of 2007 (there must have been something in the air that decade).
I would once again move in with a man I did not love, or like, who also had a penchant for lying and cheating. Sadly, I would marry him (for an even stupider reason)… only to (thankfully) snap the fuck out of it some long 19 months later.
Needles to say… I’ve been single (as in not dating) ever since.
Shortly after I moved to Vegas last year, I had a fourth experience.
Best experience to date!
I awoke to the buzzing of what many “New Agers” call the Lightbody.
My bed was illumined so much so that I could make out many objects in the once darkened room.
As I slowly continued to survey the space, I could see very clearly, a bookcase; not like the one already in the room.
This bookcase was a dark brown with books that had old bindings. The look of books when man first learned of a process to bind in fabric versus the more expensive leather option. (If that makes sense.)
Although, I did not see anyone else, I knew what I was seeing was not from my “reality”.
Slowly, my Lightbody stopped buzzing and the room began to grow dark again.
It was only then that I noticed the netting that surrounds my bed, which had previously seemed to not be present during the vision.
Based on the age of the books and bookcase, it is possible that I was in the late 19th century.
Why I stay on the hamster wheel of this dimension forever stumps me.
Symbolism of experiences
Attack= lack of control; unworthy
Hunger= uncertainty about acquiring basic needs; taking from others in order to survive
Books= knowledge; sometimes hidden
It is beyond obvious that I do not have to croak in order to catch a glimpse of “the other side”.
Questions to Ponder
- Where in my life do I feel out of control?
- Controlled by others or by situations?
- Unworthy of this life or my purpose?
- Where do I feel my needs are not being met? As basic as those needs may be?
- Where am I taking what is not mine to take?
- Where do I feel I am not knowledgeable enough?
- Where do I feel knowledge is unavailable to me?
Can you relate?