Hello, chinkles! I’m feeling slap-happy this morning, which is nice after having gone to bed in the foulest mood, due to dire need of sleep. Also, yesterday was Scott’s and my 27th anniversary and, as always, we both forgot and had to be reminded by my dad, who always remembers. I think it put me in a grouchy mood to hear people tsking a little over what feels okay to us. Let me ‘splain.
Before this year, and before the hard work I’d done to climb out of the huge black hole I’d found myself in and get to the light of day, I would have said that this never-remembering-our-anniversary-thing was about anger at being a young girl forced into marriage by pregnancy and religion, against everything I thought I’d wanted for myself (see: autonomy and no children). I was so mad at Scott, so so very mad at myself. But now it’s different. I’ve come to recognize Scott as one of my soulmates… a fellow being in my particular soul cluster, one of the souls who travels with me throughout all my incarnations. He hasn’t always been my husband. Sometimes he was my wife, or sister, or brother, or best friend, but he’s always been there to give me 100% unwavering support, and you may think I’m exaggerating when I say that, but I assure you I’m not. I can tell him the wildest things that are going on in my head and he’ll be genuinely enthusiastic about them on my behalf, because that’s what he signed up for all those eons before. And my role in his life has always been to challenge him with new ideas. That’s how it works, and it’s so amazing to me, a pure-dee blessing. So we can look at each other with the amusement of the ages and shrug our shoulders over our mutual disregard for anniversaries, knowing that we’re in it for the very, very, very long haul. It’s nice to know that now.
I have other soulmates too, as well as other people with whom I’ve closely affiliated all these times on Earth. One of my primary places of incarnation has been Ireland, which is why I’ve always been so drawn to it, and why I feel such deep love and affection for the small group of Irish people I’ve met online but have never met in person. Or have never met in this life, anyway. My incarnation here as an American is a deviation from the norm! I’ve lived mostly in Ireland and England, at least as far as the few past life regressions I’ve done have shown me.
The most significant past-life regression I’ve done so far was several months ago, using one of the postures from the book The Ecstatic Experience. Once I entered deep meditation, an extended vision unfolded before me. I’ll give you the abbreviated version, but even the actual one didn’t take very long. At first I saw myself as a young Native American shaman apprentice, dancing around a fire with other men, and there was healing in my hands. That segment ended when I was surrounded by my fellow shamans and stabbed to death by all of them. I was in perfect peace while it happened, though my heart beat rapidly, because I knew what was happening was right. I may have sacrificed myself, I don’t know. As I was standing there, a young red-haired woman in a green dress swirled around me, and entered into me, and I began to see myself in my new life. I was crouched before a hearth, stirring something in a pot, when my husband came into the cottage. He was a huge brute of a man, and he shouted something at me and yanked me up by the arm. I broke from him and ran through the open door and across a field and to a pond, where I drowned myself. My spirit instantly shot up into the sky and headed straight for a Norse ship, where a baby boy was being born. This was my happiest incarnation. I was a young tow-headed boy who loved to hang onto the mast and climb to the top where I could see forever. I was loved by everyone onboard and was always laughing, but one day I fell off the mast and drowned. I was nine years old.
I then saw myself as an old man in a long, brown, rather tattered robe, pulling a very large basket full of fruits or vegetables. The rope was around my waist and I dragged the load behind me. I was quite old, and I fell on the dirt path and died. I remember how vast and blue the sky was, and the beauty of the majestic mountains surrounding me. I was at peace. The last incarnation shown me during that vision was of myself as a young male troubadour who played the guitar. I was very full of myself, but when I sang my songs and played, my heart opened up and it became a very spiritual experience for me. In each of these lives I had either devoted myself to God or in some way was able to access a direct channel to him, and knowing this makes me happy.
Every day this past week I’ve felt that I’m being downloaded with the most incredible life-altering information. I wake up in huge anticipation for what each day will bring and am never disappointed. Sometimes the lessons I learn stem from pain, but that’s becoming less true all the time, as I invite fewer pain-causing circumstances into my life. I’m beginning to seek understanding from a standpoint of unity rather than of duality; in other words, I need less experience of the opposite in order to grow, or less sand in my oyster, than I did before, though as always – and maybe this is my basic nature – when opposed I do tend to dig my heels in and fix my face like flint. However, my heart yearns more for the common denominator between us than it ever has before. We’re One. We’re all of the Same. And we’re all in this together. I’m so happy about that. Love to you! xo