Past Lives…part two.

Past Lives…part one. (last weeks post)

Past Lives…part two.

I felt a tear slowly forge a path down my cheek as her hypnotic voice asked me to move forward in time once again. I didn’t want to move forward, I wasn’t ready to face my fear. I kept looking back, drawn to my past, to him. I grabbed onto a thought that would make my heart beat again. With every ounce of my subconscious strength I held onto the energy of the man who captured my heart. I felt alive again.

He walked toward me, glistening with sweat from working hard in the field. His walk commanded my attention, taking my breath away. In slow motion his strong hands reached out and cupped my jaw on both sides slowly bringing me close enough to feel his breath on my mouth. He stared deep into my soul, taking me to a place I had never been with any man before. Like a tornado he stirred every emotion in my body spinning me out of control with no conscious thought. He had such passion and want in his eyes. Nothing could break through the spiritual connection we were creating in that moment. I would remembered it for eternity.

I heard her soft guiding voice in the distance, muffled like I was hearing it through the wall. She kept repeating the same words over and over. I was lost in my story not wanting to come back up the spiral staircase to reality…she gently repeated “You need to move on, if you don’t you won’t find the answer you are looking for”.

I hesitantly moved forward in time and found myself standing in a familiar spot. I looked towards the tree up on the hill where our son was sitting quietly looking into the vibrant green canopy of leaves that were ready to burst with new life. It was spring again, my favourite season. The breeze was cool this time, fresh subtle fragrance filled the air. The birds were oddly quiet as if they knew what was about to come…

The distant rumble was clearer than any other time. I was waiting for it, anticipated it. I sensed the moment my eyes opened that morning that this was the day. I walked as if in a procession to greet the gentleman who had brought my letters of love in the past. He couldn’t hide his emotions. His eyes told me my heart was about to be shattered into a million pieces. He surely would not have wanted to be the one to deliver this letter, I was thankful it was he who did.

I stoically held my head high as he softly placed the letter in my hand. I closed my eyes to recalled his scent so he could stand next to me and give me his strength. His energy was not within the folded corners. My nose touched the unfamiliar penmanship. His scent, absent. There was nothing. As the tears rolled down my cheeks I opened the handwritten letter to face my biggest fear. I saw words such as brave, strength, respected, sincerely, hero and then I heard his voice faintly whisper the word s-o-r-r-y into my ear.

Our son stood behind me silently with tears flowing down his flush cheeks. We stood with arms wrapped tight around one another, not a word was said. We were all we had left. I felt the presence of his strength circle us as we sobbed silently. I was grateful in that moment to have him in my arms with the same blood pumping through his veins as his father. He would be my forever now.

 

 

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Reincarnation…

I recently connected with an older gentleman who openly talked to me about his life during World War II. I’m guessing he had to be in his mid 80’s, still a very handsome and charming man, a Fighter Pilot. He was a great story teller. I laughed at the look on his face when he told me he was given an axe not a gun, saying they either didn’t think he was worthy or there was a shortage! (He looked not only worthy but capable even decades later!) He bragged about how good he was at video games with flight simulator. He had all the moves the young kids couldn’t possibly know without the real experience of flying as he did in his day. He then paused in mid sentence trying graciously to hold back tears, apologizing for his moment of weakness, as his eyes welled up when the memory of his best friend came forth. His best friend didn’t make it home. I could have stood for hours listening to him relive moments in his past, but his wife subliminally beckoned his return and he didn’t want to keep his love waiting too long. As he spoke I could feel the love he felt for her, having met her in such an unsettled time. He still did not take his love for granted. His eyes were kind and heart was full.

There are only two times in life that I can think of when we seriously think we may never see our partner again. War and Surgery. War unfortunately involves both in many cases. He was fortunate to return but not without loss. War is not kind to love or friendship.

My recent two part post, Past Lives and Past Lives…part two was a story based on my experience with regression. Regression is a method of hypnosis which leads you into a meditative state where you are guided to explore possible past lives. I don’t know if I believe I was regressed or not. Not only was it 18 years ago, I could come up with a romantic story while standing in line at the coffee shop let alone in a relaxed hypnotic state of mind. It’s just who I am.

Do you ever wonder what lies deep beneath the surface of who you are? Do you think it’s simply genetics with a little learned behaviour thrown in for good measure, or is there much more to it than that? Are you open to the possibility of having lived past lives? Do you believe in reincarnation? Do you think it is possible under the right guidance to go back to see what was? I have always been intrigued by the possibility of reincarnation, perhaps because I don’t believe that this could possibly be it, it can’t be that simple…can it?

Watch this video and tell me what you think? It has to make you question who you are.

The photo I used from above I found while searching for a photo that would remind me of the man I spoke with, it is of Edward Butch O’Hara. If you want to read a story which I found interesting click on the name. You never know what you will find on the net. Love it!

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