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Personal Accounts

I have experienced something similar with a 4 year old boy who lived with his parents at the Ashram where I studied......blonde haired, blue-eyed, adorable kid......anyways, I knew his mom and dad very well, and knew there was quite a bond between him and his day, I was tidying up the room where we meditated, and the little boy happened to stroll through and in fact, help me......he gazes out the window, like his mind is way far away and he sighs......he says, "My dad and I were in an airplane in the war.....the plane was on fire.....there were other men in the plane who had parachutes and they jumped out.....I had a parachute, too, but I didn't want to jump up without my dad......he didn't have a parachute......he pushed me out......why did he push me out? He didn't need to do that. We could have shared....."
I hardly knew what to say to him, but I knew he had to be talking about a past life because he had never been in a plane before! He was only 4! I was about 24 years old at the time. I did respond to him, something like, "He pushed you out to save your life, didn't he?" The little boy, Tom, had the saddest look on his face, and than suddenly popped out of his altered state. He seemed to forget about what he said. I told his dad about it, but at the time, the dad was very preoccupied.

My mother has only recently told me that when she was three, my grandmother had said to her,"Now, I would like you to do a small job for me with this coal." My mother cannot remember exactly what the job was, but she remembered that it was something her mother was introducing to her--something she had never done before. My grandmother started showing her, and while doing so, she was stopped by my three year old mother who just suddenly said: "Don't worry, mama, I have already done this, I did it before I met you." Shocked, my grandmother asked when. "Before, in the previous time." And got on to do the job.
My grandmother thought this very odd but carried on.
Up to the age of twelve my mother had reoccurring flashbacks that lasted seconds in the same position, and each time she attempted to see her surroundings and clothes. She soon saw she had a long dress/skirt on with a lot of layers, making her feel hot, she also felt very claustrophobic, and found it hard to breathe around her chest (most likely a corset). She has never had the time to recall her name or situation to find out any information, but I for one find it quite interesting.

I dreamed years ago that I was reincarnated and at the time I didn't believe in it.
I dreamed that a woman wrote me a letter that stated that I had drowned on a boat in a past life. The letter included a picture of a large boat. I keep dream journals so I wrote it down and drew a little picture of the boat that I had seen in the dream.
I didn't think anything about it until I started believing in reincarnation several years later.
Just last year I was reading a book while we were at the beach called Haunted Great Lakes (I live close to the southern tip of Lake Michigan and love to read about our lake) and it had a story about a boat called the Eastland (that looked like the boat in my dream) that capsized still in dock in Chicago on July 24, 1915 on Lake Michigan. Eight hundred people parished on it. I ran to the library and found a book about the Eastland and it had a list of some of the victims in the back of the book. I KNEW that there was someone named Buelow on the list, I KNEW it. When I looked up the name, there it was, Herbert Buelow. When I was little I always pretended to be named Buelow. The day I read that book at the beach was July 23, 2005. Almost 90 years to the day of that disaster on Lake Michigan.
I've always loved Chicago and when we visit there, I feel sad when we have to come home. Maybe that was my home 90 years ago. Maybe I knew Mr. Buelow even if I wasn't him.
There have been a couple of things in my life that have proven to me that we are indeed reincarnated.
Note the list of passengers on the Eastland disaster memorial website.

Drawing from diary entry dated 8/19/94, matching the historical
photographs in that it shows a ship with two smokestacks,
although on the Eastland they were closer together.


I have never given reincarnation a 2nd thought but had a once off dream in 2012 that was so vivid I decided to do some research.
In my dream I stood in a small office. It looked like a raised log cabin with stairs going down. From this office I overlooked a concentration camp that was fenced off. Male officers stood guard outside the fence and on the inside there were woman and children. In this dream I recognized my face but my hair was different i.e. Sand color and I wore a German uniform.
After a lot of research I came across a photograph taken at Auswich of the female Nazi Officers and was shocked to see "myself" staring back at me looking the way I did in the dream. The girl in the photograph is my replica at age 23 with the difference of sand colored hair and a uniform. Unfortunately she will remain nameless as no names were supplied.
Reincarnation or just a dream and the girl in the photograph coincidence? I would love to know what to make of this dream.


I have always believed in reincarnation although I have to admit until very recently I have never been able to put the whole thing together or really understand it fully. I am 56 years old and not only believe in reincarnation but have definite proof of my previous existance in which I lived from 1869 until 1943. Like many other young boys of my generation I spent much of my very early life obsessed with baseball. I only went so far with this probably because of the early death of my father which effected me in a negative way. As a result I barely touched a baseball from the age of 12 until about 6 months ago when my 7 year old son decided to try out for little league. Let me get into this by saying that I have been meditating regularly for about the last 4 years and knew I was probably reaching the deeper areas of my subconscious but hadn't experienced anything as spectacular as my experiences with my son's desire to learn baseball. It was evident from the start of this that I found myself to be a lot more knowledgeable and proficient in baseball than I should have been after having waited so long to again delve into the sport in which my early memories were of total obsession. To make a long story short, I began to focus my meditations on trying to understand what this intense fascination was. After several months research and following leads both on the internet and at the local historical society, I was able to determine that I had led a previous existence in a town about 7 miles from the town where I now live. In the earlier part of that life I had played for several major league baseball teams, this was from 1894 till 1906. I have since visited the house where I once lived, and died, and also even found my way to the cemetery where the body from my previous self was buried. I stood in front of the headstone and saw a name so very familiar to me, after all it was mine for about 74 years, a long time ago, and now I understand there is greater purpose in all of this as I am committing myself to coach my son's little league team next spring. This has been a very healing and positive experience for me and I feel it has brought me much closer to my realization and wonder of God's great glory. And by the way, this is interesting, my middle name now was my first name then!


If you are still actively seeking accounts of past life experiences, I would like to submit the following account. I employed no conscious induction technique. I have been employing a writing exercise suggested by my spiritual teacher in which I wrote from the viewpoint of myself as my Spiritual Self of my larger purpose in choosing to incarnate. The exercise was solely for the purpose of obtaining insight into certain present-life patterns. I might have dismissed the experience as a dream had I not been examining and recording my dreams from childhood. The experience bore none of the hallmarks of dreaming. I have no personal experience from which my dreaming mind could draw.
Quite simply, I experienced my own death at the hands of village boys in Colonial America.
I was a woman who had never married and had been quite successful at maintaining my independent existence. I had been keenly interested from childhood in plant pharmacology and drew heavily from the knowledge of the only community of people who had accepted me at the time, the indigenous people of the hills. I considered my discoveries of applications for medicinal plants to have more of scientific, empirical research about them than of sorcery. My success at providing the proper remedy at the critical time probably insured my safety for many years. Villagers seeking my expertise had to apply to me covertly or risk ridicule, chastisement, or worse, ostracism, or even death. Therefore, my habit for many years was to deposit the clay jars containing the salve or potion or infusion in a hollowed-out trunk of a dead tree and depart. My "client" would retrieve the jar and leave the agreed "payment" at the bottom of the trunk. No one would risk being seen with me; my clients were usually desperate fathers of sick wives or children who had lost faith in the superstitious nonsense practiced as medicine by the elders of the village.
My preparations usually performed admirably, but on this final day of my life, I was anxious to learn how this particular preparation was working for the child of the client who was overdue on that day. It was only his delay and my need to satisfy myself that my treatment was working which resulted in both of us being in the clearing at the same time as a group of boys cutting through the clearing on their way down into the village.
Ordinarily, I could have easily frightened the boys, who feared punishment upon being discovered with me as much as they feared my reputed ability to cast spells. I was not worried about sexual assault because these were still young boys. But, I was in a somewhat agitated state because of the intrusion into what for me was a fact-finding opportunity. I didn't anticipate what was about to happen. The client froze in fear at the sight of the boys who could expose him to the village elders. My thought was to distract the boys enough to permit the man to retrieve the jar and return to the village. The powers of observation, and indeed of concentration, were not highly developed with these boys. My client could obtain the jar and vanish from the clearing without the boys even recalling that anyone else but me had been there. My reputation could not suffer further. But, emerging into the clearing from a climb from the village was the figure of my client's daughter. She had been sent to summon her father. It was she who conjectured that she had interrupted a lovers' tryst and ran screaming back down the hill.
Muttering under my breath about the ignorance of young people who had never received any instruction that it was necessary to remove clothing and be at least in some physical proximity for anything like a tryst to be taking place, I moved to retrieve the jar from the hollow trunk as the boys, suddenly convinced that a tryst was just what was happening, closed around me in tighter and tighter circles. I ran to my client, urging him to take the jar and get back to the village as quickly as possible, thinking only of the potency of the preparation.
This proved to be unfortunate, for one of the boys suggested to the others that since I was meeting my lover here, perhaps they should assist matters by "bundling" us together as was the custom in the village. The boys appeared to have a very unclear idea of how to execute the plan until someone produced some lengths of rope.
I fought furiously as much out of frustration over the interruption of my experiment as out of the sheer indignity of being lashed together with a man who was about to faint at the idea of being seen with me. I began to rage at the ignorance of the boys and the absurdity of the situation. The boys evidently interpreted this as passion and believed they were about to witness the act of love taking place.
Expecting the incident to end with us being left tied together, I was observing my client for signs of faintness, expecting that I would need to tend to him before extricating us from the ropes. So, I wasn't paying close attention to the boy who had decided to attach another length of rope by which we were about to be hoisted into the air. I did manage to observe that my client was growing ill, and not just from embarrassment. Fear had aggravated whatever indisposition he was suffering. I knew exposure to the chill and damp of the woods would weaken him still further. So, I kicked at the boys and shouted at them what I hoped would be taken by them as devilish imprecations and incantations.
Such had sent them running in the past. To no avail. The "bundle" began to rise into the air. If the boys had made any missteps in knot-tying, we would either plunge to our deaths or break every bone in our bodies. And, I was not anxious to be "rescued" by the villagers.
When it dawned on the boys that, once the daughter reported what she had seen, they risked being found on the scene of a tryst, they scattered.
As the unconscious body of my client sagged against me, I could only kick and twist and scream in rage at the growing certainty that night would fall before I could get free. The man was going to die before nightfall, the child was likely near death, and none of this had to happen.
I died raging and cursing.
The reverberations of my cursing and screaming echoed in the first few minutes of becoming conscious that it was morning in my bedroom. My throat ached and my jaws felt frozen in a rictus of terror. My sense is that I was permitted this insight into the source of present-life patterns around the owning of personal power and of rage, of fear, and maybe even of pride.
Make of this what you will. Thank you for the opportunity to share the experience.


I am pretty certain I have had a past life! I strongly believe in re-incarnation. The following experience I had was during the summer of 2002 when I was still married then, my husband and I went to this hotel for lunch in a Cotswold village/town called Bourton-on-the-Water. Whilst we had our lunch there, I felt uncomfortable and told my husband to hurry up, I wanted to go out of there. When I got out into the garden of the hotel, I was fine. The hotel has kept the original name of that building when it was a house. The name of the hotel is The Old Manse. I believe my husband and I were there in a past life. He was the priest, and I lived with him and served as a hand-made. My husband's attitude was bullyfull, similar as in this life. I escaped from the house a couple of times, and met this handsome man outside at the end of the foot bridge which lead to and from the Old Manse over the stream. This man and I had a secret relationship, and marriage. We had a happy marriage and I used to go to his house when he lived there in that life. I was recently reunited with this man in this life, and there was an instant rapport. One day, tragedy struck, when the priest informed me we were going out for the day. I was a fit and healthy young active lady in that life, did a lot of traveling mainly by horse but did go abroad by a big white liner. I also played the piano which I do in this life. I am the only one in our family in this life, who can read music, and play the piano.
Well in that past life, the priest helped me into the wooden cart. He then got in, and whipped the two black horses which pulled the cart. Just as we got over the middle part of the bridge, something hurried past in front of the horses. What ever it was, it frightened the horses so much they reared up frantically, and the cart jolted madly and I was tossed into the water. I tried to step out but my foot would not let me, and my long blue Elizabeathan dress the weight of it had pulled me under the water. My body floated underneath the bridge to the other side, and I disappeared and drowned. When I waited at the end of that bridge in this life once, I felt an errie chill but once I was over the road, I was happy as that was where I used to go to the handsome man's cottage. I did a self-shallow trance and the above described is exactly what I saw and as reading on your website, I only saw tiny flashes of bits and pieces but I recollected them. I also saw myself at a writing desk, with my quill I wrote a love poem which I gave to my handsome secret man. Does all this say that I have had a past life? I guess it would be around the mid 18th century to early 19th century era!


When I first came into contact with reincarnation was with a session of past life regression when I was 16, where I actually experienced three of my lives simultaneously (which apparently you're supposed to avoid because of the stress on your body and mind), which were a young african father, a psychotic knight, and some sort of flying dinosaur/bird. Since then, I have remembered more and more about these lives, and more about many others. The majority of the deaths I experienced were relatively peaceful-- caused by age or disease-- with the exception of one, the one closest to me: that of my african life where I went into battle to defend my tribe and was killed by a combination stab wound and internal bleeding due to a broken thigh bone-- I died a long, painful death in my young wife's arms, leaving her with several children. As far as I can remember, my current life is the first I've been a woman, and I find it quite awkward indeed. In many of my dreams, I'm a man-- I'm not saying I'd rather be male or anything, it's just I'm still not used to being in female form. In past lives, I was very abusive to women, so I believe this life is my making up for it-- with numerous psychological and reproductive ailments.... but I've come to terms with this. The life I'd like to learn more about would be that of the flying animal-- I have no concept of specifics on how I looked as opposed to others, or the era in which the life occurred. The only memories I've come up with are simple life experiences like hunting, nesting, and chasing off rival animals-- and my death, of course. Being only twenty-three years old, I am looking forward to learning about many more lives, and more details on those I already know of. I know I have more to go, and they will come to me as I grow older. In any case, thanks for creating a great place where people can share their own personal reminisces!


When I was young I vividly remember a dream I had, I was in a crowded baseball stadium made of red bricks eating a hotdog, and then I see a city of bricks and sky scrapers by water I remember saying to myself in the dream that this was home and I got this sense in the dream, this sense of home. Years later when I was 19 I went on vacation to visit Boston for the first time, and once I got there the sense, the same sense I got in my dream returned, I recognized it and I just knew it as if I've been there before, like I once lived there, grew up there, when I haven't, yet it was the same city in my dream and then I saw the red soxs stadium and lost it, I literally felt like I was home.


Note: I have not purposely "stacked" stories which begin "For as long as I can remember." I just realized I have three of them in a row here when I added the one below. I think that whenever people use phrases to describe themselves like "I've always felt," "I've always known" or "For as long as I can remember," this may be a strong clue that a past life is involved.--Stephen S.


For as long as I can remember I've had a dream of being on a stretcher getting carried into a hospital. I can remember the doctors putting things on me and seeing the lights over head flashing by. There weren't many sounds that I could understand, and there was no pain to mention. The only thing that I can remember hearing is "Is he going to make it?" and the only replay I heard was "He's already gone." As it faded to black my next memory is feeling cold & getting wrapped up in a nice warm blanket.
I've described what I saw to my mother, she insists that I've never been in the hospital for anything that had me on my back. I'd visited sick relatives & things like that, but never because I was the one needing medical attention.
I don't know if it's a memory of death & rebirth, or if it's just a dream that is simply that. I've always had a little voice in my head that tells me too many things sometimes. I feel like I am losing my mind. With no formal education, I can sometimes just look at industrial machines from the outside and know what the parts on the inside of the machines look like. I get the feeling that I was a maintenance man in a factory and was killed somehow on the job. Sure I've worked in factories--only long enough to where I get haunted by dreams of the equipment and end up having to leave.


For as long as I can remember I have always found the sound of a steady rain soothing. I live in Pennsylvania and no matter what time of year it is I always open the windows at least a crack to let the sounds and smells of a rainshower into the house.
One November evening I had done my ritual of opening the window, there was a nice breeze coming through. We were getting ready to watch a movie and I was making some popcorn. When I came back into the living room my 5 year old daughter was standing by the window looking out curiously. I asked her what she was looking for, she answered "I thought I heard a horse and buggy out there." My daughter had never seen a horse and buggy in her lifetime. I didn't think much of it but played along and asked her what a horse and buggy was. She looked at me and rolled her eyes and said "that's how we used to go to the store and church when we were little when you were my sister." She went on to say how she couldn't figure out why it snows now and didn't snow where we used to live.
I was in shock and assumed she had seen some sort of movie about it even though I for some reason cannot tolerate westerns or period movies, I also am terrified of horses and never ever go near them. I have never had a bad experience with a horse I have just been so scared of them since I was little and have no idea why.


All my life I had dreams of drowning. They were so frequent, that when I was a teenager, I finally quit waking up from them and told myself in my dream that I knew I was dreaming and gave myself permission to breathe under water. I was afraid of the water, but forced myself to learn to swim. When I was 30 years old, I had a dream in which I was told that I was a nurse in WWI and had drowned in a lake. I knew it was somewhere in Europe. I had a regression under hypnnosis with a therapist and got a first name and last initial. I knew what state I had lived in. One day I called the headquarters of the American Red Cross and asked if there were any nurses from that state who died in WWI. In less than a minute they came back with the answer. The first and middle name were correct and the last name started with an M. Next, I called the newspaper in that town and asked if there was anything in their archives about this person and I soon received an envelope full of newspaper articles and pictures. Many details of this woman's life are interwoven with my present life.


Past Life #1
In 1991, at age 50, while studying philosophy at a University, I attended all the courses at the counselling centre to try to overcome my fear of examinations, fear of giving tutorials, etc. In the time-management class I'd been given some homework to get to the bottom of my procrastination. To my surprise it was a fear of persecution. Having no indication that I had such a fear, I decided to do an exercise called 'Focusing' (by Eugene T. Gendlin), whereby you ask yourself "what's 'all that' " about a problem (in this case my fear of persecution). You then keep your mind at bay, and allow your body to react to the question. I found myself sitting with my hands behind my back, conscious that my lips felt like they were sealed, and thinking to myself, "they are not going to make me recant". I then asked myself "who am I?" The answer came, "Bruno". The only reference I'd ever consciously noted about Bruno was in a book on Galileo, read several years before, which had stated that "Galileo had recanted because of what they did to Bruno". I looked up Bruno in my Encyclopedia, and began sobbing from the depths of my soul as I read. After I was all sobbed out, I continued to finish reading, and again I began to sob. I was in shock, and my ribs hurt from the sobbing. Later, I poured over the 5 books on Bruno that they held at the University library, and found that the transcripts of the trial, which had been lost, were found in the Vatican in 1940, the year I was born. But the thing that really stunned me was that I have continued on with Bruno's work from where he left off. (Giordano Bruno was an Italian philosopher, burnt at the stake in 1600AD.)
I was born in terror of my severe, scientific, father. During my initial review of the books on Bruno at the University, it dawned on me that my father had been the Grand Inquisitor Lord Cardinal Severina, who had tortured Giordano Bruno over the 7 years he was detained in the Inquisition's dungeon. With that realisation the terror of my father (held for 50 years) completely dissipated. Although he has many radical concepts (including one that challenges the core premises of evolutionary theory), my father is too terrified to give his ideas out because of the certain academic persecution that would follow. Isn't it ironic that the man who persecuted Bruno is now victim to his own fear of persecution, because he "knows what (academia) do to those who step over disciplinary boundaries." Of course, this is karma in action!
The best biography of Bruno I've come across is The Acentric Labyrinth by Ramon G. Mendoza. After reading it in 2005, I identified with and am absolutely certain that I was Bruno. Like Bruno, my originality has caused me to be rejected by all with whom I have tried to share my discoveries (family and friends). I've spent most of my time trying to overcome my fears. I have actually fire-walked on 3 separate occasions.

2. Family Karma.
In the early seventies, I came across The Christos Experiment - a past-life technique. I took my then 10-year-old daughter, Shani, back to a life as a male Negro slave, Johnny, who worked on a plantation under a cruel Master. Johnny died of snakebite in the long grass.
Years later, Shani and her partner Mike were arguing over a car that my (ex) second husband, Larry (her step-father), had given to her. They had a spontaneous 'vision' of that past life. They saw that Mike was Sarah, the plantation owner's wife, who was in love with Johnny. They also saw that Larry was a female slave, Annie, whom Johnny was in love with. Although the Master forbad any communication or contact between his slaves, Annie got pregnant to Johnny, and when Sarah found out, she began to beat Annie in a jealous rage. Johnny came on the scene and tried to separate the two women, but Sarah accidentally fell and struck her head and died. Johnny ran off in horror, into the long grass. He was bitten by a snake and died, and was never found.
Some years later, I had 3 consecutive sessions in "float tank". In the 2nd session, I began thinking of Shani's birth and wondered why, then suddenly I found myself rowing in a boat in the Everglades. I was back in that past life. I was the Master. I'd heard the commotion, and when I came on the scene, I found my wife Sarah dead, and Annie my slave screaming, with a miscarried baby in her arms. I blamed her for my wife's death, bundled her and the baby into the boat, and made her feed the baby to the alligators. Then I pushed her in too, and as I was doing that, I got taken myself.
This unfolded story explained a multitude of injustices and false accusations that these family members had inflicted upon me. To this day, they still "see' me as the despotic Master, not the person I am now. When Larry/Annie first shifted in with me, he and Shani/Johnny were at each others' throats for no apparent reason. This also triggered in Shani a period of stealing that stopped immediately on taking her back to that past life. Before that, I'd tried everything, even clinical hypnosis, to try to make her stop stealing, to no avail. I realized later that when Larry shifted in with me, to Johnny (Shani) it was like the Master (me) having his way with Annie (Larry) again. The stealing was because she felt it was her due for that lifetime of slavery. The car that Larry had given Shani was like Annie giving Johnny some food scraps from the kitchen, and Mike reacting to that as Sarah.

3. The Christos Experiment.
During the seventies I took many people back into past lives using the Christos technique. I found that in several cases, having re-lived the past-life cause of their present day problems, they were spontaneously healed.
The most dramatic case I had was in 2001. The father of a 2-year-old girl who was born with a serious hole-in-the-heart condition went back to a life as a Roman citizen, who was with his 3-year-old daughter in the street. Suddenly a soldier picked up the little girl with her back over his forearm, and he stabbed her in the heart.
I had to massage this man to relax him when I brought him back, and he was in shock for a couple of days. I believe that the doctor who now uses a knife to try to heal this little girl in this life (she's had 2 open-heart surgeries), was probably the soldier who stabbed her to death in that past-life. Because of the unusual way the girl was stabbed, almost like a sacrificial position, I wondered whether the girl might have been a sacrificial Priest in a past life, and the soldier, her victim. This would explain the karma of the hole-in-the-heart that this present-day girl has.

Knowledge of specific past lives has answered most of my "why ?" questions and enabled me to accept seemingly unjust situations. Through this acceptance, I know that I have met a great deal of karma in this life.


In 1980 my husband's grandmother died at 86 years of age. Our three sons were very young. On the day of her death, while driving our little boys home, I told them of her passing. All of them had known her. They understood who I was talking about and discussed their memories of her while I tried to explain death to them in a way they would understand and not be frightened. Our middle son, who was about 3-1/2 years old at the time, spoke up and said, "Mom, I know what happens when you die." I replied "Oh, yea?" and he said "Yes, when you die you get borned again and get to be a baby all over again!" He was so matter-of-fact and assured, positive and excited, that I was taken aback. Reincarnation is something I had long thought about, read about and tried to understand so it was not a foreign concept to me. I was just very surprised at his remarks and as I recall our attention was diverted and so the conversation moved to other topics. We had no further discussion about this.
In 1988 the bright, intelligent beautiful boy who had made those comments about death did himself suddenly pass away -- the result of an accident. Bereaved parents and siblings traverse a long difficult path through the grieving process. In this case the questions were many; their answers elusive. A loved one always takes part of you with them when they go, and through that experience an insight into the death transition can be achieved; along with it a peaceful acceptance. Many times through those challenging years I recalled those words of wisdom spoken by my little boy. They guided me to many answers I was seeking, and they encouraged me to let go of beliefs that would not only hold my son back from accomplishing his soul needs but myself from my own soul accomplishments, as well. Reincarnation is most definitely a fact of our existance. It is by far more logical than other ideas about life and death.


My grandma told me she was her own aunt and my grandma's father felt sorry for her and took her to the place were the aunt once lived and suddenly when my grandma set foot in that house she recognized all the furniture left behind by her aunt and she started to call peoples names that she never had met before because this was her first trip to this place.
And the father to my grandma didn't understand this and he got afraid and started shouting.


Please feel free to post this on the website. Although it isn't so much an account, as a collection of sensations and impressions.
Firstly, when I was a child, five or six years old, I had a recurring nightmare of great clarity. In the nightmare I arrived at a jetty in what seemed like a Norwegian Fjord or similar, a long inlet with steep mountainsides coming right down to the see. There were men standing around at the jetty, and an overwhelming sense of despondency, as though we'd all missed the last boat and were now doomed. I must have been in some authority because I ordered the men to tidy up the area, coiling up ropes which were lying around in a tangle. I have no idea what era this may have been, although if I had to venture a guess I'd say world war two.
Around this time my parents called out a doctor to see me - one night I was having a nightmare and they couldn't wake me up, even though I was shouting and yelling as though in stress. Appparently I was shouting "it's a trap, go back, go back, it's a trap". I can actually remember this episode, because I suddenly came round to find the doctor sitting by my bedside, although I have no memories of what I was actually dreaming about.
When my wife and I went out on our first date, we had just finished the main course when I suddenly felt this weird "whooosh" of recognition surging right through me, as if I knew her from somewhere else. I somehow knew that she felt it too, and I actually asked her "did you feel that?" I've dated many women before and since and never ever felt that same sensation. (she did feel it, by the way) After many adventures we did actually get married. But now she has a strange 'masculine' side to her character which comes on her when we're sitting facing each other eating. It's got to the point where I can actually see the difference in her eyes when it happens (she's a very attractive and shapely woman, by the way). She says that it relates to us knowing each other in some other life, and especially happens when she's eating chicken legs with her fingers. She gets a strong sense that we were male friends in a previous life who went "whoring and touring" together, in taverns.


When I was younger, about 11 or maybe 12, my aunt took me to her spiritual church. I remember right as I walked into the room, the man came right to me and asked me if I played a small guitar or something like that. I replied " I play the violin". He then said that in one of my past lives I was a male violin maker, way back then. It was so crazy! Because I remember when I was in elementary school, in first grade, the high school came over and showed us their orchestra instruments. I was, right then and there, fascinated by it. I just thought it was such an interesting instrument and I had dreams of playing it once I got older. I just thought how amazing it looks and how a horse hair bow can be played across four strings and make such beautiful sound. So when the minister told me that, I almost died! but it made so much sense. I am 16 now and I'm still playing the violin. I absolutely love it. That's probably why I appreciate the violin so much. So I guess you could say I have a little bit of my personality from one of my past lives.


It's almost embarrassing to write about this because it makes no sense to me, but about 20 years ago I attended an exhibit at the De Young museum San Francisco, Ca., where I lived at the time. The exhibit was of newly discovered funerary objects from the tomb of Philip of Macedon, the father of Alexander the Great. I was just wandering through the rooms with my friend looking at the display cases when I was overcome with the strongest emotions, while standing in front of a set of greaves (body armor worn on the front of the calves) as I continued through the exhibit my friend noticed I was upset and I finally had to leave. I remember vividly that I touched the display case the greaves were in and "saw" a field with men in military dress on it. The greaves in the case were on the legs of a man coming toward me. I cannot explain this, I was looking up at his legs coming across the field toward me. I knew him, or at least knew him by his legs. It seemed I could feel and hear sounds. I have never been able to understand this. Recently the movie about Alexander the Great came out, I debated going to see it, because it seems to upset me thinking about him, but I did go and see it and started having dreams that are unlike I've ever had before in my life. I dream in color and always have remembered my dreams. These dreams seem to break the barrier between my sleep and my husband has said I've woken up a couple of times confused about where I was. Once I thought I was in the middle of a battle and someone, a man, on a horse was yelling to me asking for orders. I wish I could understand this. It really disturbs me. I don't know if it has anything to do with reincarnation, but its very disturbing.


I really believe that past life regression and reincarnation has resurfaced at the end of the millenium because of this century of both great progress and terrible indifference to human life. Once you have experienced past life regression you can never look at the world in the same way. I know what it is like to be male, to be black, to be so many different people and to realize that I am everyman and he is me.


After listening to an interesting conversation involving my niece who was at the time just 5 years old: she had made a comment to her mother while passing by a cemetary pertaining to a mention that her old mother was in a place like this. Her current mother (puzzled) began talking with her about why and what motivated her to say this, was quite surprised at the answers and discussion that took place. My niece who at 5 years old, had only recently been learned enough to hold intelligent conversations, had been able to recall descriptions of life in times that were completely in the past. Things that have never been discussed or demonstrated to her before. She described that she also had another Mother and Father but that they had both died and that they were put into a cemetary like the one that she was being driven past. She could not recall any names of people or places but was able to describe them. She recalled that her Father was always dressed in overalls and had a long beard. Her mother had long hair and wore dresses that were wide at the bottom. They had a wooden carriage that was pulled by Cabbage (the horse). They could not use the carriage after it rained because the streets were made of dirt and it would get stuck. She also remembered that the house did not have any lights like the ones inside her new house but they had lamps that they had to put oil into. The stove in the kitchen needed wood to cook with and it had a long black pipe going outside. She remembers that her Grandmother was killed by Indians and that her mother was killed after being run over by a carriage. She also mentioned that she died very young and had also been a little girl after that and had died very young again. Very oddly she said that this time she will grow old enough to have children. My niece who is now 13, remembers what she had said but it does not really seem odd to her, she just sorta wonders why she has these thoughts in her head.


I've had several instances of what I believe are past life recall, and most of them stem from dreams. The one that stands out most vividly, occurred when I was sixteen years old, in the hospital for an eating disorder. In the dream, it's night time and pouring rain. I'm completely naked, running as if for my life, through a forest with someone in hot pursuit. I'm female with very long dark hair and I'm caucasian. As I'm running, I feel terrified of being captured. Next, I see myself sitting with a heavy greyish blanket over my back and shoulders, kind of crouched down, breathing heavily. A dark haired man (who has been in several subsequent dreams) is rowing with huge oars along some kind of lake or river and we're in a Viking boat, complete with the fancy dragon type front. The water is placid and calm and I'm confused. I know I've been captured and possibly raped by the man who then covered me wit h the blanket. Was he the same man or my rescuer? The dream was so vivid and real that I've never forgotten it, even 21 years later.
During that same time, I thought I had awakened from a dream, only to find myself staring at some gaudy, flowery wall-paper-- completely unlike my room. A single, bare light bulb glaring. It was a creepy feeling and it took me a while to snap out of it.
I've had a recurring nightmare since early childhood involving some kind of demonic/occult activity. In every dream, I'm absolutely terrified of the basement, which is infested with evil entities of one form or another-- demonic, sick, foul and downright evil. The dreams recurred all my life, and only subsided in the past year or two. The dreams always revolve around the same house-- that of my biological grandfather-- my mother's father. Interestingly, my mother, my aunt and several other fam ily members have reported seeing a little girl -- a ghostly child with long blonde hair and black eyes-- or no eyes, as well as other sinister events within that same house. Either something happened there to me, as a young child, or I'm recalling having lived there and the very thought of that is nauseating.
When I was pregnant with my first child, a daughter, I dreamt of a little boy with curly reddish hair who turned into a young man-- a teenager, with angry blue eyes and platinum blonde hair. He hated me-- or rather, he had a 'bone to pick with me.' He said, "I was your stepson in a former life." My daughter was born with curly reddish hair, which turned platinum blonde within the first few months. Her eyes are exactly the same blue as in my dream. Thankfully, she and I have a very deep, loving and special bond. I love her with all my heart and she is very possessive of me. She ha s deep anger issues and many, many fears. I keep that dream in mind and deal with her according to the notion that she needs a lot of love and reassurance from me in this life time.
Other dreams of her: When she was about a year old, I had a horrifying dream in which I saw us being chased by Nazis. We were Jewish. It was the holocaust. In the dream, she was a little girl, with curly blonde hair and every thought in my mind was to protect her. I ran for our lives down the streets, refusing to surrender either myself or her.
Another dream of her: I saw her bloated, blue body laying at the bottom of a swimming pool. That dream was so real, it still terrifies me. In the dream, she was only two years old.
Now back to the man in the Viking boat. I dreamt of him several more times since then, and in each one, I see a differ ent scene playing out. In one dream, I'm down in some huge hole in the ground, like a pit of some kind with stone walls impossible to climb. I'm a female, alone, terrified, hungry and desperate, but that same man is guarding the hole-- he's in some kind of army fatigue, but nothing like the modern dress of soldiers. He's got dark hair, a mustashe and has a rifle. He is responsible for making sure I don't escape.
In another dream, that same man is driving a bus-- like a school bus and I'm the only passenger. We're driving through a horrible storm with tornados touching down but I feel safe-- like he's in control and I'm okay.
Funny thing-- I met my second husband and it was absolute instant attraction-- like I knew him-- like he was familiar to me on so many levels. We've been married now for five years-- together for ten-- he looks exactly like that man in those dreams. It's the most bizarre relationship we have. He takes care of me in every way and has even adopted my three children from my first marriage. We've had a love-hate relationship, at least at first, but both of us know we belong together and that we're completely empty and miserable apart. I know he's that same man. And one last thing before I finally shut up. When my son was only three or four years old, he started talking about being a man named John Graham-- a pilot of some sort and has a deep fascination with anything to do with the army. Unfortunately, I didn't pay close attention and write it down. There were some details I've forgotten but he said he lived in 1948. He's ten now.
These are just some of my experiences with what I think may be past life recall. If anyone reading this can shed some light on it, please email me: (e-mail posted by permission)


I underwent past life regression many years ago. When taken back into the past and asked what I was experiencing, I had the distinct feeling of riding a horse complete with full body armour and riding toward a castle....I also realized that I was a Crusader...and had killed many people in the "name of Christ." Because of this, I have a sense that I am paying my karmic debt for this by helping people come to know the truth...Love is what life is all about. Religions are cultural barriers that prevent people from loving their neighbor. We are all one with God and when you kill your neighbor who professes another religion, you are in effect killing God. There are severe penalties when one takes the life of another unjustly.


I must say that it was a very strange meeting. I was employed as a taxi driver at the time, about 5 years ago. I had picked this elderly Irish gentleman up as a fare, and we began to talk. I don't remember exactly how the conversation got to be about tthe Celtic peoples, maybe I had commented about the accent, but as we talked, he asked me if I had ever been to Ireland. I said "no", and he asked me "Are you sure?" It was almost as if he didn't believe me. He told me that he saw something in me, a "presence," as he called it, that somehow linked me with that culture.
Now, as far as I know, I am of Italian heritage, but all my life I have been drawn to Irish history, music, art, etc. I even have something that no one can understand, a full-back Celtic crest tattoo. Many have asked me why I got it if I'm not Irish, and all I can say is that when I went into the tattoo shop, I saw the design and it "spoke" to me. They don't get it, but I suppose neither do I.
Anyway, the more we talked, the more adamant this old man got, and by the time we parted, the conversation having taken all of about 20 minutes. he has asked me to make him a promise that I would someday visit Ireland. He said I would find what I was looking for there. It seemed almost urgent to him that I do this. Maybe he recognised me as a former family member or something. I had never set eyes on this person before, or since, and now I have a journey to undertake someday, and one way or another I intend to do it.


I have had headaches that were bad enough to make me vomit since I was about 12 years old. There seemed to be nothing that I could do about them. My childhood was a bit stressful, so it was written off as stress-related. I used to contemplate suicide an awful lot. I would either imagine myself on my bed with my long blond hair brushed beautifully and my wrists slit or I would imagine blowing my head off with a gun....For whatever reasons, I never attempted any of these things. I grew up and considered the possibility of suicide anytime things got too tough for me to handle, but never acted on it. At age 35, I went with a friend of mine to a woman who could read past lives and being a little "psychic" myself, I knew somehow that I was going there to get rid of my headaches.
As my session with this woman began she said, "Wow, why do you keep blowing your head off? you've done that so many times. Why can't you 'stick it out?" And then she said that I sure do like drama, even in death, like the time I was a gorgeous Roman girl with long beautiful hair and the man I loved left me for another woman. So I laid myself out on my bed, brushed my hair, fixed how my dress looked, and then slit my wrists!! Well, she went on to say that she bets I get really bad headaches in the back of my head since I kept blowing my head off there. I said yes I do. And she said that if I would quit looking for the easy way out, like suicide, I wouldn't need the reminder of the "killer" headaches that it isn't the answer. I quit thinking about suicide and found other ways to deal with my problems, and I haven't had one of those headaches since. Sometimes the body has to remind the soul of some basic rules


I don't remember a whole lot really...just one fairly clear flashback of being on the lifeboat and seeing the mighty ship sinking, feeling cold, helpless and lost in the middle of the ocean. Intense feelings of despair...also I feel very close to this time period, the fashions, the manners. It's been a bit of a joke amongst friends that I was born in the wrong time. When I think of Titanic though, there's a mixture of fascination...and dread as well.


In a previous life, in the time of Abraham Lincoln I was a man, a terrible man...I hated women, used and abused them...and I was an alcoholic...and all the men I have had relationships with have been fact one man took me across the country and locked me up for 6 months and almost killed me...
But from all of that, I have done a lot of personal work and had much therapy, and I understand the thought process of a woman who is being abused, and how misunderstood she is by others who aren't in her I would like to take this knowledge and help others, abused men and women, and in the process, work through the bad karma?


I've had terrible nightmares and sometimes flashes of my past death. I was in Rome and my husband murdered me and our unborn child, because he thought that I had committed adultry. I was dragged behind his horse, down a cobble-stone street. His name was Utercratise. I have learned to deal with the fear.


Leia was instantly attracted to one of my friends. She didn't like many people, but she liked my friend Annette instantly.. She often called her mommy and cried heart rending sobs when Annette would leave. She also liked Annette's two daughers, Amy and Nita. I was always puzzled about her attraction. Annette felt Leia might have meant to be her daughter; right before she knew she was pregnant she had this desire to mother a baby again. I remember her telling me, she wanted to get pregnant. She knew it would never happen, she had her tubes tied. I'd wanted children for years, but it never happened. I'd resigned myself to being childless, then there she was.
In one lucid moment, while Leia was relaxed and in a moment of clarity, I asked her about Annette, Nita, and Amy. I asked her why she loved them so much. She said to me clear as day, "Mama, les Mes 'amis." (sp) This was when she was about 1 and 1/2, when she was first learning to speak between gibberish, and clear English diction. I'm not sure I spelled it correctly or not. But it was French..."Mama, they are my friends." (names changed)


I met a kid who was a 13 year old boy who was in foster care and they wanted me to take him into my home. He was into everything you could think of from alcohol, drugs, fighting, stealing cars, to skipping school. I couldn't understand why I thought it was so important that I get this boy. Why wasn't I scared of him? Well, since then I've been regressed back to 2 past lives, and maybe there are more, when he was my own son. That was almost 15 years ago and even though he's grown up now and we don't get to see each other very often we are still very close and keep in touch with letters and the telephone.


The following is a description of a series of events that are, to me, clearly related to one another... and yet I have no rational explanations for them. The only explanation I can come up with is some kind of reincarnation.
When I was a teenager in college, one time when I was fooling around with my girlfriend in the backseat of my parent’s car, I had a "vision," for wont of a better term. I have, in the past, and since then, had fleeting unconnected images drift through my mind during sex, usually when my eyes were closed, but this was very different. I was fully aware of where I was and (ahem) what I was doing, even though my eyes were closed. The images were very vivid and clear, and stayed with me long after I experienced them. I could probably do a halfway decent sketch if needed.
I had a very distinct vision of walking into the lobby of an ornately decorated hotel. The lobby looked Victorian. Other people around me were dressed in appropriate clothes for the era, and the lobby of the hotel had an early cast-iron-cage elevator in the lobby. I paused and watched it as it ascended, feeling fascinated by it. I crossed the lobby and approached an open set of double doors. The room beyond was a little darker, music was playing inside and people were dancing. I scanned the crowd, and on the far side of the room, I saw a woman who seemed to stand out for some reason. She seemed a little brighter, as if a key light was on her, although there was no apparent logical reason this brighter appearence.
And then I opened my eyes, And I was a little surprised to find myself in the backseat in 1973, although as I said earlier, I was fully aware of both the vision and the physical reality at the same time.
I never mentioned the experience to anyone. It didn’t seem that odd, or even worth sharing... but the memory never went away. At least a couple of times a year or more I would recall it... and wondered why, as I am by nature a very forgetful person, and was a little surprised that I kept returning to this vision, though I never put any stock in it at the time.
Fast forward ten years, past two other girlfriends and a failed marriage. It's late 1983 and I am getting to know a woman named Donna. We are very drawn to each other, but she was attractive, sweet and someone any male would feel drawn to... Our relationship begins, and one evening a couple of months later, we started talking about dreams, dream images, and how well dreams can be interpreted.
Donna tells me she has had a recurring dream, always exactly the same, ever since she was a kid. I said, go ahead, tell me about it. In her dream, she is standing in a ballroom during what appears to be the Victorian era. People are dancing, but she keeps scanning the crowd. After a few moments, she glances across the room at the open double doors and sees a man standing there. Behind him she can see a cast-iron-cage elevator. The man appears to stand out, as if he is in a low watt beam of light. And then she would wake up.
A little startled, I asked her to thoroughly describe everything she can remember about the decor and what she can see. With absolutely NO prompting from me, she describes "my" hotel in accurate detail... the wallpaper., the curtains, the window placement, where the band was, etc etc etc...
Over the time of our relationship (about 3 years) we learned what we could... piecing together gut feelings, dreams and psychic workshops... at one point we both had a "past life recollection" workshop... This is what we came pieced together:
I was a poor Irishman who grew up in the tenements of Hell’s Kitchen in the late 1800s (coincidentally where I live now, having moved in 25 years ago.) I was determined to get out of poverty at any cost, and began to make some money apppearing around town in local theater. I distinctly remember returning to the old neighborhood in a brand new suit, showing off...
However it wasn’t enough, so I looked to marry into money. I met and courted a naive daughter of wealthy parents. I did not love her and saw her as a meal ticket, but she dearly loved me. I proposed, she accepted, but her father saw right through me and refused to let her marry me. I took off, never looking back. She fell apart emotionally, and shortly thereafter committed suicide by drowning herself in a lake upstate New York.
I did not have a good life... I think when you live so obsessively about one issue, you end up impoverishing yourself, literally. I eventually died in a poverty ward, in the late 1920s, coughing as I died...
Donna ended up actually remembering her suicide, and her death... and she says dying as a suicide is very very different. There is no tunnel, no light to greet you, no life flashing before your eyes, etc etc... It’s just limbo, waiting waiting waiting to be reborn... She said it was horrible and seemed to go on forever... We have no right to kill ourselves, she says...
In present day, after a few years, as much as we were in love, we ended up breaking up. She wanted kids, I couldn’t give her kids, and she also felt it was important for her to learn to live without me, a lesson she skipped out on in the Victorian age... Ironically, I fell apart after we broke up and it took me years to get over her... perhaps a lesson for the callous Irish cad who didn't care about people...


My experiences are not quite as detailed as some but I have had dreams that seemed different and unusual from other dreams, and some reoccurring nightmares as well.
In one of the dreams I am walking down the wooden front porches of a western ghost town. It is late at night and it seems there is a full moon. I hear ghostly sounds coming from the inside of the buildings. One is a saloon and there is music and loud talking coming from it. I look up and one of the store fronts has an overhang that is built of what looks to be cedar wood that allows some light to come through. This town feels like it is in a rocky desert like setting either in west Texas, Arizona, or New Mexico. I want to say TX which is where I was born and live now. There are tall rock cliffs that the town is beside. Suddenly, it is daylight, and I am running for my life down rocky sloping ground toward the reddish cliffs. I am terrified and I am a young girl about 8 yrs old. Indians are attacking the settlement and I can hear the sounds of the battle. I wake up with my heart pounding.
The next dream I am a cavalrman in the Confederate army. I am one of few survivors of a battle and we are surrendering to the Union army. There are two other Confederates on horseback. We are riding between two lines of Union soldiers and I am attempting to appear dignified and maintain honor in despite the humiliation of losing. That is all I remember of the dream except the emotions were intense. My brother told me that one of our ancestors was one of the few remaining survivors of a battle in the Civil War on the Confederate side. I don't like studying or reading about the Civil War it depresses me very much.
Third dream, I am in a movie and the role I am playing is that of a Jewish man in Europe at the turn of the century. I am shown photographs of the city where I live and these are faded old photographs. With a start, I recognize that I know this place and have been there before, and suddenly the role is real. I am the father of a family wearing a black suit with the two long dark braids on either side. I am fascinated by Jewish people and have always been able to make Jewish friends. There is no definite proof but out of all the Scottish, Irish, ENglish, Native American ancestry, I possibly have one great grandmother who is Jewish though she did practice Judaism and married a Catholic man.
As a child I loved anything that had to do with the American Revolution and was fascinated by the hats the men wore. I often have nightmares of drinking something poisonous or choking on something and death is imminent. These dreams I always wake up panicked and my heart is pounding.
And I don't know if this is indicative of a past life, but I feel I have known my husband of two years (2nd marriage) before. I feel like he was a fraternal twin brother and we were very close. Sounds weird, I know. We have a very loving relationship and enjoy many of the same activites. I am an identical twin by the way.


I have a strange inner life that I don't often speak of, only to curtain friends or family members. Most people look at you as if you're full of bull if I were to mention these things. But, here's the truth and it comes in so many different ways,I have a lot to say and a lot to hide.
I'll start with the first recollection.When I was small I believed that my older sister (by 8 yrs) had secretly baptized me against my mother's will when I was very young, maybe 2 or 3 yrs old. It was a memory that was so vivid that I had no clue that it did not happen. In my teens, I finally asked my sister and she said that it never happened. I pleaded with her to be honest and that I would never tell our mother. My sister said she considered it, but, never did because we lived in a small town and word would get to mother. Now that I'm older and every great once in a while, the dream recurs, I realize, that the person sister, but, not this sister. She had the same essence of my current sister, but, was very different in appearance. Were my sister and I reincarnated together? Have we shared the same life before?
A few more strange things happen to me, wow, there is so much I have to say.
In my teens I made the mistake of telling my mother that I could "feel" when someone was about to die. My mother put me in therapy. But, it was true, I watched it happen several times. When meeting curtain people a mood would come over me, a sad mood and I knew. And later I would discover that person had "passed on".
I've met a few people that it seems I have met before and want to stay within their company because I have a strange feeling that I will lose them again.
I knew my first child was a boy, I purchased a large amount of boy clothes in yardsales two years before I even became pregnant, my husband thought I was crazy. I also had a deep fear that he wouldn't make it into this world. Also, after his birth I was afraid to let my husband leave the house for fear he would die and never make it home. Might have lost a child in a prior life. lol.
My 4 yr old daughter tells me the same story that I am hearing from other mothers. She tells me that she misses her mommy and wants to go to her mommy's house. She also gave me a very discriptive story about being in a large trash box wearing nothing but her pannies covered in ants. Ants in my eyes, ants in my mouth and nose, ants in my ears, ants in my PANNIES! ants everywhere she has told me. But, it's ok momma cause I came to you, I wasn't scared, just very tired. She has mentioned that several times. It was very scarey to hear from her. At first she was not very clear on the topic because she is young still and I became affraid she was telling me what was to come. lol, I had her in my sights at all time.
A few more situations and then I will retire this long paragraph.
Occasionally I will dream of my father who has passed on and when I do, I know that a situation will be ok. Also if I dream of my oldest brother who passed on a few yrs ago, I know that things will not happen as I planned...simply because his death happened suddenly and our life with him did not happen as we had planned. And strangely enough, sometimes..(and this is crazy, but) I will dream of my father and he says strange things and nothing else...such as: once I dreamed that he told me "a sharp left" "I mean it kiddo". I had no clue what that meant and went on with my daily life. Two days later I was driving my car with two of my children inside, my son started screaming (at the time I didnt know why, but now I know a bee had stung him) I looked into the back seat to see what was wrong and whenI turned to look ahead of me I realized that the truck ahead of me was being forced to slam on his brakes. I had no clue what to do. I was in the middle lane, cars were to my right and a turning lane to my left and even when I hit my brakes it wasn't enough to stop the accident that was about to came to me "a sharp left, I mean it kiddo" I did what my dad said letting fate do her worst. We ended up horizontal, in the turning lane between two stopped cars and perfectly safe. But, the guy ahead of me had no such luck, his large truck smashed over the entire back end of the small car ahead of him. If not for that weird dream, we would have been lodged underneath his back bumper and I myself most likely dead. But, thats not the strangest of things, this last issue caused me to seek therapy.
When going to bed sometimes I hear someone talking, it's creepy. And when they say wake up, I have learned to do just that. My oldest son has strange dreams and nightmares, and walks in his sleep. Also he has strange dreams and recollections of a horrible life I've never seen him live. When the (I dunno what to call them) so-called "voices" I suppose speak up loud enough to be heard and tell me to wake up...seconds later my son will wake screaming, lost, disorented and scared but not awake. Or something will be wrong such as one of the children will have a high fever or are sick to their stomach. Something of that manner. I used to disregaurd the noises because the doctor says everyone hears them and it is because you are tired and as long as they're not telling you to do harm, it's ok, lol...I always thought it was because your body was tired and your unable to shut your brain off. So your mind is either dreaming before you're or your mind is replaying distorted noises from the busy day before. Either way,I wake up when I'm told to now. lol
When I was 17 I bumped into a lady at a supermarket. As soon as she turned to aplogize and saw my face...her face dropped. She pulled me aside and said that she had a paticular practice (she never quite told me what it was) and that I had to have been the oldest, most tortured soul she had ever seen. I listened w/o ridicule. I wanted to disreguard what she said, but have never been able to shake it. She told me that I am no longer royalty and that the fate of everyone around me is no longer in my hands, nor will I ever take the blame again. Just relax, no one is holding it over your head anymore and live this life easily, she told said. I'm still trying to take her advice,lol.
I have other strange dreams that contain vivid faces that I've never seen, comforting voices that I do not reconize but did in my dreams. I do not watch much television because it makes it hard for me to sleep. The less TV Iwatch, the more vivid the dreams. I can stay in touch with myself a little better as well. I have learned that dreams can help you solve daily issues. When you're awake the problem my be too overwelming, but when you are asleep ...well, it's not. lol.
I do think that in one past life (if this is true), I died on my birthday. This life's birthday....weird,lol. Anywho, that's some of my strange inner life that I don't share with many people.

Memories of an incarnation in the 1960's era

Brenda's story

Deborah's memories

Amanda's story

One person's answers to a series of questions
designed to elicit possible information about past lives.

A story about reincarnation and marriage

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