Remembering Past Lives

My recovery from my recent hysterectomy has been better than expected, and also, there’s been a lot of hard stuff. For months before the surgery, I was really sick with headaches, heavy bleeding, and a lot of pain. I couldn’t work because I couldn’t get two days in a row where I felt well. My partner Nai now has three jobs to cover our expenses, and my parents have helped us as well. I’ve been so grateful for their support, and have also felt powerlessly dependent, and like I’m a failure at providing. Those elements influenced my behavior in ways that are not my best self, for which I’ve had to own, apologize for, and attempt to soften.

On top of the physical and mental challenges, I’ve found myself in another spiritual expansion again as well. A lot of trauma connected to my womb and womanhood, my personal power and shame, has come to my awareness in my dreams and kept me awake with downloads of memories and energetic contracts from past lives that needed revisiting. I haven’t talked about this much yet, but about a year and half ago, when I was 44, I did a past life regression to get to the root of my monthly agony. The regression meditation was thirty minutes, and I shot like a bullet through the time space continuum landing in Germany in a concentration camp in Dachau. The year was 1944. My name was Anna; I was the daughter of a wealthy Jewish businessman and an English Aristocrat. I began to see people from my current life playing roles as my sisters, brother, friend, and lover. I wore a yellow badge in the camp for being Jewish, but I felt I deserved the punishment I was given because I knew I also secretly wore a pink badge—the one they pinned on the homosexuals. It all played out like a movie before my mind’s eye.

Once the meditation ended, I assumed the memories would pause until I went back to that space again. They didn’t. They continued, and still continue, to pour in a steady stream of memory movies during my waking and sleeping hours, from that lifetime and many others. Past life regressions are helpful when you begin to suspect the trauma and pain you’re carrying is not from this lifetime. Reviewing past lives can show themes and energetic cords that need cutting—contracts that no longer serve can be dissolved with awareness and intentional letting go. Some of the things I’ve gained so far from the memories of my Jewish life is the concept that my soul family can never really be taken from me, the realization that death and fear are an illusion--and I’ve been able to finally embrace the idea that I deserve to be treated with love and respect no matter who I am or who I love.

I’ve been gay in many of my lifetimes. It’s freeing to know that. It’s self-forgiveness and love is love on a whole other level. It’s complicated to live in this new reality of realities though. I’ve played many roles with many members of my soul family theatre group that have reincarnated with me for as many millions of years as I can comprehend. I know several of them in this life as well. Some recognize me too, and others don’t. I don’t always know what to do with that—some relationships are harder to neutralize feelings within than others. Maybe those are the ones that are meant for healing and awareness in this go around. I really don’t know.

When I encounter these soul mates, there’s an instant knowing. You’ve probably felt it too, once or twice. It’s not always romantic, but it’s intimate. It can feel like the world pivots around this person with a sudden cinematic special effect. It can feel like a zap, or de ja vu, or a recognition. I’ve had the gift of clairvoyance for most of my adult life, and in encountering this sensation I used to always assume it was someone who would be important to me in the future—a premonition of a kindred connection. Now I know, for me, clairvoyance truly means I can see outside of the confines of time and space, past, present, and future. I’m not sure why I’ve been blessed with memories others can’t yet see. I wish I were better at seeing and sitting back, relaxed, watching it all unfold. Sometimes these psychic messages really stress me out when they’re about and for other people. They come in dreams, in meditations, and while I’m working with clients. It can be gut wrenching to deliver warnings and ideas that will require growth and trust.

We moved to the mountains because of the visions and messages I was receiving, and I’m so grateful for the abundant nature I live in now, my beautiful home and view, the cold, crisp spring water that flows freely out of my farm kitchen sink. I’m in love with where I am, and also, my inner life is storming along through all these really hard passes on my spiritual journey. I keep having to tell people how I want to be treated, and make boundaries, and keep loyal to myself. I keep having to let go of dreams, and ideas of people, and people, and expectations, and re-imagine, re-learn, re-calculate. It’s long hours work, and I often feel the need to hermit during it and keep my own counsel. I don’t ever want to make it seem like it it’s easy for me, or I’m sailing through when others are not, which is why I’m sharing in the fog of my confusion this time.

I know there’s a greater purpose to my memories live streaming in at all hours, and also, I’m not sure what it is yet. I’ve gone headlong into the world of energy healing, meditation, astral projection, and all things pointing to a greater cosmic consciousness, and as a result I feel sort of lost out in space, untethered from the evasive “normal”.

We once hatched monarch butterflies—the caterpillar turns to goo during the metamorphosis, apparently retaining its memories, and emerges with wings that it somehow had inside it the whole time. The cocoon turns a beautiful sage green with gold embellishments while it does its work inside. I sure do feel like goo with some pretty far out memories of being completely different than I am now. I’m trying to allow the cocoon to do the work, and not worry so much about whether my wings are gonna fully unfold ever.

I don’t have the ending yet. I’m still processing all these new memories coming in since my surgery and how I need to pay attention to their teachings and let them re-direct me if need be.

Maybe you’re in a period of cocooning and figuring out hard stuff too, or maybe you’re in one of those phases where things are clicking. We all cycle through the ebb and flow, and I hope my sharing brings us closer as humans in some small way. Trust me though, this is hardly your first or last life around, so will you join me in trying to ease up on the narrative and character assignments a bit, enjoy who we are and what we came here to experience this time?

Love and Peace,

Julian Blue