Past Life Regressions

 

CLICK HERE to order your personal, one on one Past Life Regression…. here is why you should:

How long till my soul gets it right?  Can any human being ever reach the highest light?”  Galileo by the Indigo Girls

Time travel is real.   I know because I have done it many, many times.  I need neither fancy DeLorean, nor circle of standing stones to take me.  All I need is the will, a bit of time and a gentle voice to guide me.

I am talking about Past Life Regression, or PLR.  The process of PLR encompasses travels in all direction of time including past lives, future lives and even current parallel lives.  Each trip I have taken through time has enriched me in ways I never would have imagined possible.  I honestly believe that if every person had a chance to visit their past lives the world would find peace almost immediately.

Some seek out PLR as a therapeutic or healing modality.  Since Dr. Brian Weiss brought PLR into the mainstream back in the 1980s with his bestselling book Many Lives Many Masters it has gained huge respect within the scientific and wellness communities as a very effective healing tool.  But for me, my time travels began simply out of curiosity.   I was looking to have an adventure and perhaps discover hidden realms to myself and to the human experience along the way.  And so I packed light and headed out, a willing and eager Past Life Tourist.

I have been born and died many times along the way, each life a Technicolor feature of epic proportions. Throughout my travels I have learned many lessons and found healing in areas I never knew were damaged.  What started as a lark has become a life-changing pilgrimage.  As a vacation that will expand how you view yourself and the universe, I highly recommend it.  With no clear destination in mind I set off with no expectations.  What I have found are lessons in survival, love, forgiveness, tolerance, compassion, kindness and peace.  What I have found are miracles.

1.       I was instantly cured of a crippling phobia.  Shyness, stage fright and social phobia were so intense for me I could bared speak up in a small gathering, let alone speak in public.  Panic attacks and anxiety were a constant struggle and I often turned to pharmaceutical intervention to make it through challenging times.  This lifetime, as the girl with no name, brought understanding to me and with the understanding came healing.  These fears that I’d had were based in another lifetime and realizing that allowed me to let them go, easily and without any further help.  It was the first of many miracles I have experienced and witnessed as a result of PLR.

2.       Mark Twain said:  “Travel is fatal to prejudice.”  While Mr. Twain may not have intended this to cover journeys to other lifetimes, it seemed appropriate somehow.  Travelling to other lives and experiencing myself as all creeds, religions, mental and physical capacities makes it impossible to hold judgment based on those things.  When we realize that we have all lived lives as both persecuted and persecutor, victim and villain, saint and sinner and everything in between we are finally able to find the compassion to understand and accept each other.  We have been every spectrum of the rainbow, and once we see those hues within ourselves we can truly begin to shine.

3.       Peace and understanding finally comes to our most difficult human relationships when we visit other lifetimes that show the origins of our strife.  My lifetime in India perfectly reflected a dysfunctional relationship I was currently experiencing in my current life.  Once I saw the roots of the discord, I was easily able to shift my behaviour enough to break the patterns.  Easy peasy.

4.       I no longer have any fear of dying.  None whatsoever.  Because I have experienced my death over and over and over, I know that dying feels like taking off an old tight shoe.  We are finally free!  We are going home.  In death we are healed from our lifetime traumas.  In death we are reunited with our loved ones.  In death we are waking up from this dream called life.

PLR brings about the awareness that we are so much more than these small lives we are living.  We experience the traumas and lessons from a safe distance and are able to take those lessons into this life, and grow because of them.  Our lives are forever enriched by assimilating the experiences that are the sum parts of our soul.  We put the pieces back together and can finally see the full picture. 

PLR is not a religion though some religions do incorporate it into their dogma.  To me, knowing that I have had other lifetimes is simply an awareness that I am enrolled in this earth school, where our souls return time after time to learn and to teach and to experience the wonder of being human.  Some days I feel close to graduation.  Other days I think I may be repeating the 4th grade for the 17th time.  Always I am thankful for the growing awareness that PLR brings of other times and other versions of me.

 Life is the schoolyard.  Where and who we are is a mere blink in our eternity.  Knowing this frees us to take things less seriously.  Because, as the Indigo Goddesses… I mean ‘Girls’ so eloquently put it: “It’s only life, afterall”.

To book your personal, one on one Past Life Regression, please click the following:

Past Life Regression    $150.00

A guided regression touring lifetimes in the past and future, or even those times between lives where we access wisdom and divine knowledge.  Sessions take up to 90 minutes and are available in person or via Skype/FaceTime.  CLICK NOW to order:

btn_buynow_LG

All sales final.  For Entertainment purposes only.

The Calling

o-HANDS-REACHING-facebook

“Respond to every call that excites your spirit.”  Rumi

Dammit dammit dammit!  I missed my flight.  It was a quick connection and the gates were miles apart but I still had believed that the travel angels, who work so beautifully for me, would come through once again.  Imagine my surprise when I finally ran up to the gate and saw the tiny plane taxiing away toward Newburgh without me on board.

My first inclination was to become Old Me and start to wail and cry and threaten and blame.  Those feelings swelled up in a big bubble of frustration, but I had been in training for just this sort of thing these past few years, so New Me took a deep breath and just sat there in the moment and let those feelings dissipate into the air around me.  Everything happens for a reason, I reminded myself.  Including this.

I used the extra 4 hours in the Philadelphia airport to relax, eat some soup, read a book and just catch my breath.  The time went quite quickly and before long I was taking my seat on the tiny plane that would take me on the last leg of my journey to Newburgh, New York.  I was on my way to the Omega Institute for a week long seminar led by Dr. Brian Weiss on Past Life Regression.  This in itself was quite surprising.  Old Me would never have thought to take the time or spend the money to do something so outrageous.  It wasn’t practical, people would think I was crazy, who was I to think I could learn this stuff, and on and on the doubts and resistance would come.  Of course those thoughts did come to me, but instead of believing them and giving in to them, New Me decided to ignore them and listen to my inner guidance.  I felt a strong, intense calling to be there, so I decided to throw logic and fear to the wind and answer the call.

The plane was flying at a very low altitude, under the clouds and as I watched out the window at the passing nightscape something really bizarre happened.  The lights of the towns and cities below seemed to refract and spread out in beams, interconnecting and creating the most amazing, beautiful grid of light.  I stared in awe from my vantage point up in the air and was overwhelmed by the beauty.  What was this?  What did it mean?  Old Me determined it must be caused by the convex curve of the window  or perhaps by atmospheric conditions or something logical like that.  New Me quietly told Old Me to shut up and just enjoyed the magic of the flight.  The beauty of it all made me feel a bit high and when we landed firmly on the ground I giddily walked through the nearly deserted airport toward the stand of taxis to find the driver I had booked.  I walked outside, stopped dead in my tracks and  I laughed out loud, causing several weary travelers to look my way and wonder what was up with the crazy lady staring at the sky.  The grid was still there!  The streetlights above and the lights from the surrounding buildings were beautifully refracting and continuing the light show for me.  It took my breath away.  Old Me briefly considered that I may be coming down with a touch of a brain tumor or something, but New Me knew that this was something big: something mystical and amazing and the real reason why I had missed my flight.  I was meant to see this phenomena.  I had no idea why but I knew that this would be important.

Everything happens for a reason.

I have learned that we show up for each other over and over again wearing different guises.  This was never as clear as during that week in Omega.  The very first morning I wandered the dining hall, breakfast tray in hands, feeling very much like new kid at school.  Then I found her.  My soul sister, friend from all eternity and a little piece of home.  “May I join you?” I beamed at her, already impatient to get past the awkward introductions and start reminiscing about our vast connection.  Katie, my beautiful Katie, sister mother teacher friend, flew all the way from Australia to attend the seminar.  Somehow, she told me, she felt a calling to be there at that time.  It was something I would hear over and over during that week.

Each experience that happened while we were at Omega revealed new connections, threads in the tapestry.  I first met Butterbean during a regression that week.  It is not surprising to me now that she showed up when she did.   I was regressed by a young man with a deep soothing voice who just so happened to be named Thomas.   Of course she would show up.  Everything happens for a reason, right?  In my life as Butterbean I recognized Miz Ginnia as a dear friend of mine who had passed away the previous year.  Though there was no physical resemblance, the soul was the same.  Imagine if your best friend changed the shirt they were wearing, you would still easily recognize them wouldn’t you?  That is the case with our soul friends and families.

150 people attended that seminar… 152 if you count Dr. Weiss and his wife, Carole.  We converged for a week, drawn from all over the globe in a way so compelling that none of us could ignore the call.   Then the stories began to emerge of connections from lives past.  People we just met turned up playing significant roles in other lifetimes.  We were all inextricably linked, woven together in a tapestry of experiences and lifetimes and we had been given this amazing gift to remember it all.  We were like those beams of light I saw, weaving a tapestry,  intricate and beautiful, beyond the imaginings of the human mind.

We journey here to gain experience, not necessarily understanding and while Old Me rails against the mysteries, New Me revels in the magic of it all.

Me with Dr. Brian Weiss
Me with Dr. Brian Weiss
My lives have been a tapestry of rich and royal hue
An everlasting vision of the everchanging view
A wondrous woven magic in bits of blue and gold
A tapestry to feel and see, impossible to hold
~ lovingly paraphrasing Carole King

7 – 7 – 7

July 7, 1942

They’ve come.  The young couple hold each other desperately, their infant son, carried in their embrace, sleeps unaware.  She trembles and he leans a hot kiss on her forehead, murmuring that everything will be alright, shh. 

If only.  Safe transport to America is arranged in just 3 days.  Their trunks packed and ready.  If only. Why not 3 days earlier?  Last night?  An hour ago?  If only time could flow into the hopeful past instead of the certain future. 

They wait.  She and he huddled in fear, trapped beneath the hideous and powerful black spider.  Nowhere can they run or hide. 

Hours pass.  They sleep fitfully, leaning against each other.  Their son bleats his hunger.  She feeds him, hiding beneath the smart coat her husband gifted her last birthday.  He watches her, eyes dying.  He knows. 

It ends.  They are rent from each other. Screaming, tears, terror.  She sees him lined with others upon a wall.  The terrible shout of bullets, his life sprays red upon the ground, his eyes sightless as they seek her, one last time.

She dies within.  They drag her onto the waiting train.  Her son screams.  She holds him in her arms and whimpers sounds without meaning.   She tries to feed him, but there is nothing left to give.

The child dies in the night, rocked gently in the moving train, smothered within her breast as bodies lean heavily in to her.  She slips into madness.

They arrive.  Disembarking, she is herded, a long line of women.  Head shaved, smart coat, leather shoes, dead child, all taken.  She silently screams for them to kill her.

She breaks line, walking slowly nowhere.  Shouts. Whistles.  She is cast to the ground, a rifle butt slammed to her skull. 

She sighs her death softly.  Thankful.

July 7, 2014

They embrace joy.   Another chance to live the lives stolen.  This time they get to win.

This time they get to live.

man woman