It was a gorgeous day today and I decided I would pack a picnic and take my son to the mountains. He fell asleep on the way there and I had a half hour of quiet. I was able to think.
I had a strange dream the other night. It was kind of creepy, but when I woke up analyzed it I thought it was pretty encouraging. In the dream I was digging in the garden, down at the root of a plant. I saw there were bugs there so I reached out to swipe them away. They were some kind of larva and they got all over the tips of my fingers. Then they started borrowing into my fingers! I grabbed my fingers with my other hand so they couldn't squiggle around. Then there was a voice telling me to let them alone, that this was a way I could get extra protein. I thought excitedly, "Oh, just what I need!"
I let go and saw that as the larva wiggled into the tips of my fingers they dissolved right away and my body assimilated the protein.
Larva seemed like the perfect symbol for transformation, because larva is never permanently larva, it's the beginning stage of something else. And, it seems, this transformation is at the tip of my fingers. With a little faith I may find that something that at first seems uncomfortable will be just what I need.
If I was going to describe where I am at in life right now, I'd say digging in the dirt and getting to the root of things is an accurate description. I have shucked off layers of beliefs that belonged to other people and gotten very clear about what I want out of life, and I have surprised myself. I have also found myself becoming increasingly sensitive to my environment in regards to the people around me and have begun eliminating chemicals from my food and beauty products. There are other changes, too. So many things have changed that sometimes I don't recognize myself.
As we were headed up the mountain today I was struck by a bolt of insight that made everything appear in slow motion. I am in the home stretch. My eyes are fixed on the goal, my goal. My destiny is so close I feel like I could and touch it, but for the first time in my impatient life I don't want to reach out. I want to sit back and watch it come to me. This is a transformation!
Friday, August 13, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Two Similar Dreams
I had an interesting dream last night. It felt important, and I find it especially significant because of how it relates to a dream I had about a year and a half ago that felt equally important.
In the dream from a year and a half ago I was surfing through the halls of a big hotel. There was a man surfing as well. He was always a little bit behind me, and he seemed very amused with me.
We were surfing so fast and no one else could keep up with us, even though they would try.
We ended up in the lobby and I saw a black girl with her mother. The girl was my age, but she still seemed like a girl because she was always with her mom. There was something very immature about it. I recognized this girl as my nemesis. She and her mother seemed to be trying to sabotage what they thought I wanted. I was laughing at them on the inside because what they thought I wanted wasn’t what I wanted at all. I wanted something different.
They ended up getting caught in a trap that they meant for me; a shower with a big shower head in the middle of the lobby. They got soaking wet and very mad.
The surfer was watching everything. I made him laugh. I amused him.
Then I half-way woke up.
As I was falling back to sleep, I became aware of movement. I was in an elevator going up. Some part of me outside of the dream sighs and thinks, “Good, I’ve been working towards this for 500 years…”
The elevator stops and I get out. It’s dark, but I can tell I’m on the roof of the hotel. There is a purple mist swirling around the ground and it reaches up past my knees.
Then I see the surfer guy there, and I’m very glad to see him.
The dream from last night was different but reminded me of this one in several ways.
Almost every time I woke up last night I found myself singing a song from Sesame Street. "One of these things is not like the others. One of these things just doesn't belong..." This song seems to be about me not fitting in in the environment I am in right now.
The Sesame Street theme continued into my dream. In the dream I was at some kind of convention. There were lots of Sesame Street people there. We waked past Luis and I told my friend that I thought he was really cute. His name was spelled weird in the dream. Lewees or something like that. I recognized the odd spelling of his name to mean he was representing an aspect of myself. I'm not your average Michelle.
There were a lot of trips to the bathroom in this dream(as there always are with all day conventions). During one of my trips to the bathroom I saw that it was an absolute mess. Filthy. Also, there was a guy in there! He looked like a bouncer or a big bully. He told me I couldn’t use this bathroom. I didn’t even consider leaving. I just pushed past him and went into one of the stalls.
I went outside and was walking around with some people. On the way back in I saw Luis again. I asked him if he wanted to walk with me and he said no. He told me he overheard me say that I liked him. I said, “So…” like it shouldn’t matter. He thought about it for a second and decided it didn’t really matter and walked inside with me.
Inside there were TV screens playing scenes from soap operas. I went up to one and saw that there were 3D glasses to use. I put a pair on and thought that the soap opera was a silly imitation of real life.
When the convention was over and all the people were filing out of the room, there was a part of me I could overhear that said, “It’s been 500 years!” as if something important had finally been accomplished.
Both of the dreams had dark-skinned dream characters who represented a dark or "shadow" aspect of myself. The saboteur and the part that goes along, doing what it does, without questioning why.
Each dream referenced different aspects of our human existence. The temporary nature of our human experience, implied by the hotel in the first dream, and the imitation of real life (or our lives in spirit), pictured by the soap opera in the second. The second dream spelled this out quite nicely by providing 3D glasses so that I could "see" 3D meant the third dimension.
Convention could be a play on words for conventional. There isn't much about me that is conventional. I'm not trying to be different. I am trying to be myself. But it seems that my self is quite different than almost everybody I know. And this idea of me being different is echoed every time I wake up sing the song from Sesame Street about not belonging. As one of my friends put it, "You're just weirder and weirder the more I get to know you!"
Both dreams end with a big question, though. What is the 500 years all about? It's a great mystery!
In the dream from a year and a half ago I was surfing through the halls of a big hotel. There was a man surfing as well. He was always a little bit behind me, and he seemed very amused with me.
We were surfing so fast and no one else could keep up with us, even though they would try.
We ended up in the lobby and I saw a black girl with her mother. The girl was my age, but she still seemed like a girl because she was always with her mom. There was something very immature about it. I recognized this girl as my nemesis. She and her mother seemed to be trying to sabotage what they thought I wanted. I was laughing at them on the inside because what they thought I wanted wasn’t what I wanted at all. I wanted something different.
They ended up getting caught in a trap that they meant for me; a shower with a big shower head in the middle of the lobby. They got soaking wet and very mad.
The surfer was watching everything. I made him laugh. I amused him.
Then I half-way woke up.
As I was falling back to sleep, I became aware of movement. I was in an elevator going up. Some part of me outside of the dream sighs and thinks, “Good, I’ve been working towards this for 500 years…”
The elevator stops and I get out. It’s dark, but I can tell I’m on the roof of the hotel. There is a purple mist swirling around the ground and it reaches up past my knees.
Then I see the surfer guy there, and I’m very glad to see him.
The dream from last night was different but reminded me of this one in several ways.
Almost every time I woke up last night I found myself singing a song from Sesame Street. "One of these things is not like the others. One of these things just doesn't belong..." This song seems to be about me not fitting in in the environment I am in right now.
The Sesame Street theme continued into my dream. In the dream I was at some kind of convention. There were lots of Sesame Street people there. We waked past Luis and I told my friend that I thought he was really cute. His name was spelled weird in the dream. Lewees or something like that. I recognized the odd spelling of his name to mean he was representing an aspect of myself. I'm not your average Michelle.
There were a lot of trips to the bathroom in this dream(as there always are with all day conventions). During one of my trips to the bathroom I saw that it was an absolute mess. Filthy. Also, there was a guy in there! He looked like a bouncer or a big bully. He told me I couldn’t use this bathroom. I didn’t even consider leaving. I just pushed past him and went into one of the stalls.
I went outside and was walking around with some people. On the way back in I saw Luis again. I asked him if he wanted to walk with me and he said no. He told me he overheard me say that I liked him. I said, “So…” like it shouldn’t matter. He thought about it for a second and decided it didn’t really matter and walked inside with me.
Inside there were TV screens playing scenes from soap operas. I went up to one and saw that there were 3D glasses to use. I put a pair on and thought that the soap opera was a silly imitation of real life.
When the convention was over and all the people were filing out of the room, there was a part of me I could overhear that said, “It’s been 500 years!” as if something important had finally been accomplished.
Both of the dreams had dark-skinned dream characters who represented a dark or "shadow" aspect of myself. The saboteur and the part that goes along, doing what it does, without questioning why.
Each dream referenced different aspects of our human existence. The temporary nature of our human experience, implied by the hotel in the first dream, and the imitation of real life (or our lives in spirit), pictured by the soap opera in the second. The second dream spelled this out quite nicely by providing 3D glasses so that I could "see" 3D meant the third dimension.
Convention could be a play on words for conventional. There isn't much about me that is conventional. I'm not trying to be different. I am trying to be myself. But it seems that my self is quite different than almost everybody I know. And this idea of me being different is echoed every time I wake up sing the song from Sesame Street about not belonging. As one of my friends put it, "You're just weirder and weirder the more I get to know you!"
Both dreams end with a big question, though. What is the 500 years all about? It's a great mystery!
Monday, August 2, 2010
The Rest of the Story
I mentioned in my last post that it took three past life regressions with the intent of finding the source of the pain I had in my neck, back, and shoulders.
The second regression was a life in Italy. We were English and lived in a lavish house outside the city of Genoa. Like always, the cast of characters in that life time were people in my life at the time of the regression; a co-worker and a couple of long-time family friends, and astonishingly, my dog!
My mother and I were shopping at a dress shop in town one afternoon when I was knocked down by a run-away carriage. The wheels ran over me and my back broke in two places. I left my body before it died. As my consciousness moved away from the body I marveled at how beautiful the streets of the city were.
The research I did after that regression uncovered a written document by a famous writer of the time who mentioned that Genoa had been famous for its beautiful streets! I LOVE little bits of verification like this.
The third regression is the one that finally did the trick. As a bit of back ground I'll say that I had recently been laid off from my job because it had been deemed I was physically not capable of doing the work. I had been recently diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and as part of my treatment I was going to a physical therapist twice a week. The Family Medical Leave Act ensured that I still got to use the company health clinic for three months, so I was doing everything I could to help myself out while I still had the chance.
My physical therapist had a hell of a time trying to work on my neck. She said I was the only person she had worked on who showed no sign of improvement after two months of regular treatments. She told me the sides of my neck felt like there were bricks in there, but that I should be able to feel tendons, sinew, tissue.
I went home that afternoon very discouraged and decide to try another regression to clear up this problem.
I saw myself as a adolescent girl. I was with my brother and sister, the same people who are my brother and sister now. In fact, our birth order was even the same.
The scene switched to the last day of my life. It was 1912. I was married, 22, and had a little girl. She was a toddler and was playing with some toys while her father and I got dressed up for a fancy dinner party. This was the Victorian age and we were dressed accordingly. My hair was twisted in the back and piled on my head. I was putting on a pair of dangling earrings when I saw my daughter playing at the top of the stairs. I dropped my earrings and ran to her, afraid she would fall. I swooped her up and my ankle twisted under me. We fell down the stairs. I heard my neck crack and break.
At the bottom of the stairs I saw that my daughter was dead. Her back had broken and so had mine. I left my body.
It made so much sense to me after I did this regression why my troubles started when I was 22. There were so many reminders of that life in this one at that age. Not just my brother and sister, but the husband was the same as well.
One of the unexpected outcomes from this regression was my fear that I would be a bad mom went away. A blessing, indeed.
A few days later I went in for my physical therapy and the therapist was practically speechless. She said the sides of my neck felt perfect and I had full range of motion. She asked what I had done, and when I told her she said she wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen what I was like before and after and knew for herself the impossibility of the problems I had taking care of themselves literally overnight.
That was the last time I saw her, and the problem has never returned.
The second regression was a life in Italy. We were English and lived in a lavish house outside the city of Genoa. Like always, the cast of characters in that life time were people in my life at the time of the regression; a co-worker and a couple of long-time family friends, and astonishingly, my dog!
My mother and I were shopping at a dress shop in town one afternoon when I was knocked down by a run-away carriage. The wheels ran over me and my back broke in two places. I left my body before it died. As my consciousness moved away from the body I marveled at how beautiful the streets of the city were.
The research I did after that regression uncovered a written document by a famous writer of the time who mentioned that Genoa had been famous for its beautiful streets! I LOVE little bits of verification like this.
The third regression is the one that finally did the trick. As a bit of back ground I'll say that I had recently been laid off from my job because it had been deemed I was physically not capable of doing the work. I had been recently diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and as part of my treatment I was going to a physical therapist twice a week. The Family Medical Leave Act ensured that I still got to use the company health clinic for three months, so I was doing everything I could to help myself out while I still had the chance.
My physical therapist had a hell of a time trying to work on my neck. She said I was the only person she had worked on who showed no sign of improvement after two months of regular treatments. She told me the sides of my neck felt like there were bricks in there, but that I should be able to feel tendons, sinew, tissue.
I went home that afternoon very discouraged and decide to try another regression to clear up this problem.
I saw myself as a adolescent girl. I was with my brother and sister, the same people who are my brother and sister now. In fact, our birth order was even the same.
The scene switched to the last day of my life. It was 1912. I was married, 22, and had a little girl. She was a toddler and was playing with some toys while her father and I got dressed up for a fancy dinner party. This was the Victorian age and we were dressed accordingly. My hair was twisted in the back and piled on my head. I was putting on a pair of dangling earrings when I saw my daughter playing at the top of the stairs. I dropped my earrings and ran to her, afraid she would fall. I swooped her up and my ankle twisted under me. We fell down the stairs. I heard my neck crack and break.
At the bottom of the stairs I saw that my daughter was dead. Her back had broken and so had mine. I left my body.
It made so much sense to me after I did this regression why my troubles started when I was 22. There were so many reminders of that life in this one at that age. Not just my brother and sister, but the husband was the same as well.
One of the unexpected outcomes from this regression was my fear that I would be a bad mom went away. A blessing, indeed.
A few days later I went in for my physical therapy and the therapist was practically speechless. She said the sides of my neck felt perfect and I had full range of motion. She asked what I had done, and when I told her she said she wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen what I was like before and after and knew for herself the impossibility of the problems I had taking care of themselves literally overnight.
That was the last time I saw her, and the problem has never returned.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
A Pain In the Neck
This was my first past life regression. It took place on January 1, 2005.
The intent with this regression was to find the source for the extreme neck, back, and shoulder pain I had had for years.
I found myself on a guillotine, my body writhing, trying to get free of the ties around my hands and feet. My present-day self physically felt all the tension in my jaw, back, and neck from that earlier time period. It was overwhelming!
I saw the blade coming down. I took several attempts before my head was cut off and I was aware through the whole thing, mentally screaming out, "My head, my head, my head!" and "They don't like me!"
I remembered reading that you don't have to re-live the experience when you do a past life regression so I told myself to go to the observer position. Immediately, my perspective switched to a point outside of the body. I saw her twitching and convulsing on the bench while her head dropped into a basket. There were two more girls in line to be killed.
Instantly, I saw what led up to this moment.
The year was 1792 and we were a family of gypsies who came from an area that was once Russia. We were somewhere in Bavaria. We were metal-smiths and we sold our trinkets everywhere we went. My father was the leader of our group and we all knew that we were to make money any way we could. We lived by a different value system than the people in the villages, and were led by different morals.
My sisters and I were prostitutes, and I was a mystic. I used divination cards and a crystal ball, and I remember making fun of the people who came to have me read for them. They liked having me use the crystal ball, believing it was magic, but I didn't need it to see their future. My psychic gifts ran in the family.
There was a young man in the nearby village who had fallen in love with me. He came to see me one morning and asked me to marry him. I laughed in his face and told him no. He told me this was my last chance and ran off humiliated and angry. Then it seemed like everything that came next happened all at once.
There had been villagers hiding in the bushes, men and women with makeshift weapons and bows and arrows. The attack on my family was brutal. Some fled into the forest, but most were slaughtered where they stood. I tried to run but someone grabbed me by the hair and threw me down. They tied my hands and feet and put me in a wagon with my two sisters. Those who were nearby threw things at us and called us names. I screamed at them that they were hypocrites. They were punishing us for what we did, but they were the ones who paid us and sought us out for our services.
We were taken to the village where a guillotine had been erected. Villagers crowded around to watch our death.
As I died, I realized that it was greed, selfishness, and my arrogance that had brought our family to its end.
I recognized several people from that time who were in my life at the time of the regression. One of my sisters then is my sister now. The other sister was a very good friend at the time, and the man who asked me to marry him was a coworker.
This regression uncovered a lot of personal issues for me, but it did not relieve the pains in my neck, back, and shoulders. It took two more regressions with the same intent to get to the heart of that problem.
Even after all the regressions I have done this one stands out to me the most. Not because it was my first, but because the moment I entered that lifetime I knew that this group of gypsies were my ancestors.
I was my own ancestor.
The intent with this regression was to find the source for the extreme neck, back, and shoulder pain I had had for years.
I found myself on a guillotine, my body writhing, trying to get free of the ties around my hands and feet. My present-day self physically felt all the tension in my jaw, back, and neck from that earlier time period. It was overwhelming!
I saw the blade coming down. I took several attempts before my head was cut off and I was aware through the whole thing, mentally screaming out, "My head, my head, my head!" and "They don't like me!"
I remembered reading that you don't have to re-live the experience when you do a past life regression so I told myself to go to the observer position. Immediately, my perspective switched to a point outside of the body. I saw her twitching and convulsing on the bench while her head dropped into a basket. There were two more girls in line to be killed.
Instantly, I saw what led up to this moment.
The year was 1792 and we were a family of gypsies who came from an area that was once Russia. We were somewhere in Bavaria. We were metal-smiths and we sold our trinkets everywhere we went. My father was the leader of our group and we all knew that we were to make money any way we could. We lived by a different value system than the people in the villages, and were led by different morals.
My sisters and I were prostitutes, and I was a mystic. I used divination cards and a crystal ball, and I remember making fun of the people who came to have me read for them. They liked having me use the crystal ball, believing it was magic, but I didn't need it to see their future. My psychic gifts ran in the family.
There was a young man in the nearby village who had fallen in love with me. He came to see me one morning and asked me to marry him. I laughed in his face and told him no. He told me this was my last chance and ran off humiliated and angry. Then it seemed like everything that came next happened all at once.
There had been villagers hiding in the bushes, men and women with makeshift weapons and bows and arrows. The attack on my family was brutal. Some fled into the forest, but most were slaughtered where they stood. I tried to run but someone grabbed me by the hair and threw me down. They tied my hands and feet and put me in a wagon with my two sisters. Those who were nearby threw things at us and called us names. I screamed at them that they were hypocrites. They were punishing us for what we did, but they were the ones who paid us and sought us out for our services.
We were taken to the village where a guillotine had been erected. Villagers crowded around to watch our death.
As I died, I realized that it was greed, selfishness, and my arrogance that had brought our family to its end.
I recognized several people from that time who were in my life at the time of the regression. One of my sisters then is my sister now. The other sister was a very good friend at the time, and the man who asked me to marry him was a coworker.
This regression uncovered a lot of personal issues for me, but it did not relieve the pains in my neck, back, and shoulders. It took two more regressions with the same intent to get to the heart of that problem.
Even after all the regressions I have done this one stands out to me the most. Not because it was my first, but because the moment I entered that lifetime I knew that this group of gypsies were my ancestors.
I was my own ancestor.
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