Blog Feed

Settling Debts

The Ides of March blew an ill wind this year. The lingering nationwide wrestling match of whether to pause or tough it out will not end. The kelly green sticker says March Madness. Six months later, the debts are not settled? The office commute thinned out with each passing week. Kinda cool to have the select parking spot every day. I tried to work from home but the connection failed and failed again. So, the routine stayed as it has been. Kinda cool for an introvert to have quiet corridors.

The spring rains so abundant and cold abruptly left our lands in mid-May. Now, the soil is dormant. The few sunflower seeds that did germinate came from the compost pile. A rebirth from last year’s remains. Their heads are drooping heavily on the stalk. Goldfinches twitter delight of the saffron petals. Already, birds are flocking for migration. Maple seeds and acorns will be abundant this fall. So much has been lost before the harvest. The many rows of corn that could not grow anymore.

The oldest wisdom says; as above so below. I wonder how many silent losses will be discovered. The unwanted children, who cannot grow straight, trapped in homes with a daily reminder from their “loved ones”. The cremation facilities feed the flames with another corpse. A friend has smothered to death from the COVID. A sister died in January. She killed herself and lay alone. Nobody knew. Months of fear and quiet gave folks space to reflect on the illusion of integration. The marches have returned. The quest for acceptance moves forward on another generation.

Is this all some reckoning? Has the karma come around on unsettled debts? How can we clear our souls when ghosts of trampled spirits can no longer stay silent? How many have died from indifference? Gaia loves balance. Humans have long soiled the environment with their fragile needs. So puny, so dependent, so ugly. This sickness is not the plague, it foreshadows the nightmare to come. Consider it the prelude before the storm emerges. No swab, no mask, no mercy will save us now. We took too much. The Earth will have the last word. The dark moon in Leo does bring melancholy thoughts into the sun.

 

 

Past Life Awareness

Certain situations can cause tension to arise. An impulse from the sixth sense plays out in a subtle chill across the consciousness. What happened? The catch on my bracelet became tangled and too tight. For a few moments, it was stuck on my wrist. The instinct to tear it off rose up. Mindfulness calmed the moment enough to get the clasp loose and free.  Whenever clothes become too tight or difficult to remove, the same slight panic occurs. Get it off! What’s that all about?

Are you fascinated by a certain place? Does a name make you pause without reason? Do you read books about a time in history? A connection to a past life can happen if the psyche is open to receive it. It’s a subtle expression of memories past down through the bodies of many corporeal forms on earth. The impression could be overwhelming at moments, however, accepting past lives and existences, can be done naturally. A visit to a place that is compelling can help awareness resurface.

If you believe yourself to be a sensitive soul, the haunting in this lifetime of things that have passed can be continuous. Perhaps it’s just a feeling. Or, a reaction every time a particular sequence of events happens, like the sensation created by the tangled bracelet. I was manacled before, the vision of where and how has yet to come clear.

A connection to some details of a previous existence came without drama while braiding lavender flowers seated in the courtyard at the Castle Donnafugata outside Ragusa, Sicily. Bees droning and the scent of rosemary set the scene for the slip behind the veil of the present to what had been. A few days before, I’d been at the Wellspring of the nymph Arethusa on the islet Ortygia. Legend has it, Artemis changed Arethusa into a freshwater stream to get her away from a harassing river god. A little way up the road, a large water fountain honoring the myth stands in Archimedes Square. In my glimpse of past life. I lived at the fount a few thousand years ago. I had a name, an image, and a glimpse into my old life. I was Talygta from Cyprus. A basket weaver brought there to serve the goddess.

The second trip to Italy validated awareness of past lives and my ability to be clairvoyant. In Lucca, I walked into the Chiesa di San Ponziano and saw clearly where two workmen had fallen off a scaffold in the nave when it was being refurbished 300 years ago. Italy, blessed Italy gave me the space to reach the old knowledge and let it out.

When I was 19, I became fascinated by the events of WWI. Films, books and poets were watched with rapt attention. The soldiers, what happened to the soldiers? The old sensation of sorrow and melancholy rises every time. Why? I’m buried there in Flanders Field. In a past life, I served and died in the trenches.

Acoma Pueblo Kiva

In 2004, I traveled to a The Gathering of Nations, a corn planting festival, in Albuquerque NM. Inspiration for the trip came the summer before while in attendance at Schemitzun, a three-day Native American festival celebrating the corn harvest in Connecticut. A woman from Albuquerque invited us to attend the planting festival in April. Without hesitation, plans were made to attend. Long fascinated by Native American spirituality, something said at one of the pueblos sounded too familiar. When the Spanish entered this part of the southwest, the Natives were persecuted for their spiritual practices. A kiva is a sacred place where natives commune with mother earth. It’s a subterranean room entered by a ladder, built to connect a person to the source of life. One manner of “persuasion” to accept the new faith was to destroy the Natives’ sacred spaces. People who resisted their rule could find themselves buried in the kiva, I was one of them. To this day, I cannot stay in a stone structure below the ground, or in a low ceiling cave. I was buried alive in one.

During a past life recession, I saw myself as one of the few remaining Arawak’s living on one of the islands during the time of Columbus. I saw myself in the water throwing out a net, fishing just offshore. The Spanish took me before the image of a cross and were forcing me to choose between their religion or my life. They cut off my breasts first, then stabbed me in the heart. The last thing I saw was their symbol of god. No wonder I grew up conflicted about faith and evolved into believing something is out there but it is beyond comprehension. Nobody knows, so much belief is based on a myth.

The exploration of past lives is possible with experts in hypnosis. It’s best to work with trained facilitators who gently provide a safe place to reach back and view events without trauma. Kathryn McGlynn, CH is a practitioner in Massachusetts.  I’ve had the opportunity to attend a few sessions and came away enlightened each time.

In all lives, there is so much unseen. Tell your story in a comment. What do you know or vaguely remember?