Tag Archives: karma

A Past Life Regression – Finding a Soul Mate.

 tombstone2

I entered the lifetime behind a donkey sliding down a narrow, steep winding pathway on the side of a hill. It was hot, dusty and dry and daytime.

Dry, white, chalky rocks and pebbles of all sizes were clicking and rolling downhill all around and under us as I attempted to push the donkey down the hill.

My dear sweet friend Sikh (pronounced “Seek”) was pulling the donkey. He had hold of the rope that was tied around the donkey’s neck.

The donkey was sitting in the path, refusing to move. I was bent over, my body shaking with laughter, my hands under the donkey’s butt, my face necessarily pressed into his shaggy fur to get a better grip underneath him, lifting, heaving, pushing and cussing—but mostly laughing.

I was laughing so hard that I wasn’t having much effect on the donkey.

Sikh was looking at me over his right shoulder with his usual, disgusted look reserved for my antics, and that was what I was laughing at. His dark eyebrows were drawn up and together in his characteristic scowl of disapproval. He was angry with me for laughing, but I couldn’t help it. It was just too funny.

It became even funnier when I suddenly remembered the donkey’s name. It was a word that literally meant “stubborn,” but was also used figuratively as a particularly nasty expletive.

Sikh’s sweaty, dirty face was so dear to me as I looked at it over the donkey’s back for what seemed like the first time in a very long time. A part of me wanted to sit down right there on the rocky path and cry with relief and gratitude at getting to see him again. I felt a sad longing for him, like we had been apart for forever.

A part of me, though, was laughing at our donkey predicament on the narrow path—and the look on his face.

Hypnotherapy can be like that. One part of the brain is processing the inner events that seem to be in the present but that are actually the past lifetime.

Another part of the brain is kind of watching from a distance, processing information from the vantage point of the modern, true present lifetime, where we are sitting in a hypnotherapist’s office doing a past life regression.

Sikh always had that amusing effect on me. He was the serious, cautious one most of the time. I was the crazy, funny one—always the person to think up some daredevil, dangerous stunt that was likely to get us killed—or at least in trouble.

I loved Sikh like a brother—or even more so. How to describe the love I felt for him? I trusted him completely. I felt so much affection for him in his seriousness. I felt somehow responsible for him—for his happiness.

We were friends—young boys, dark skin, dark eyes and dark hair. My name seemed to be something like Anand. This was all happening in some vaguely hot, dry, “foreign” place.

We were taking some sort of drink (wine?) back to his house where there was a gathering of some sort. We were late because of this stupid, stubborn donkey, and we both knew Sikh’s father would not be happy at our lateness.

The Hypnotherapy Session

I had readily agreed to be a volunteer for a friend who was training to be a hypnotherapist. She was a novice at that point, and we started the session with the intention of doing some committee work.

So she began by doing a standard progressive relaxation induction. At some point, however, my brain jumped suddenly into this lifetime with me laughing and pushing a donkey down a hill behind Sikh.

I tried to ignore the donkey and Sikh and follow her instructions, and somewhere along this mind path I had picked up my Inner Advisor (IA) too, so when my friend asked me if I was standing at the committee room door and was ready to go in, I turned to my IA and asked, “Should we tell her or should we go into the committee room?”

My IA smiled, feeling like an accomplice in some crazy conspiracy, and told me to tell her where I really was.

“Uhm…that’s not where we are…”

I felt some anxiety come off her as she calmly asked, “Okay…where are you?” I could tell she was just trying to kind of roll with it even though I could also still feel her anxiety.

I began laughing then and told her where I was and what was happening.

She began to ask more questions to ascertain the reason for the sudden jump into this lifetime. A part of me was curious about that too. Mostly though, another part of me was just so happy to be with Sikh again that I simply wanted to stay with him and experience the joy of getting to see him again.

We finally, with much sweat, cussing and laughing (on my part), got the donkey and its cargo to his house. There were happy people everywhere—inside and outside the house.

His father was nowhere to be seen, but his mother acknowledged our arrival and thanked us, sending us off to have fun there too. No one seemed to care that we were late.

Indeed, a part of my brain realized, there had been no actual time limitation. This same part of my brain went on to analyze this lifetime the way my young boy self, actually in that lifetime, never had.

Sikh was a worrier—sometimes even creating dark drama where there was none. He was analytical and logical—pessimistic most of the time, contrasting starkly to my love of fun, frolic, mayhem and laughter.

I loved him anyway—maybe even more so because of all of this; he was my best friend.

When Sikh’s mother sent us off with a smile and head tousles, I began to feel a profound sadness, because this gathering was reminding me of another gathering at this same house—a gathering in that lifetime’s future.

My friend was continuing to ask pinpointing questions, and as she did, I began to know why I had come to this lifetime. I suddenly wanted to not be there anymore.

“I got him killed,” I began to cry. “It was my fault he died.”

“No, no, no, no, no; it can’t be true—no.” I was sobbing, heart-broken, guilty, inconsolable.

It seems in that lifetime that I was always the one breaking the rules in the name of creating fun. I was the one who had come up with our usual MO, something we had been doing all of our young lives.

We had this understanding, Sikh and I, that whenever we were sent on an errand, we knew we would dash about the errand as breakneck as possible, because that would give us more time, away from our families and homes, for goofing off—for finding interesting things to amuse us. If we got the errand done quickly enough, no one would know we also had time for a detour or two.

This is how I got Sikh killed.

My mind fast-forwarded to the evening when Sikh’s father sent us on an errand that would take us past a small lake we liked to swim in. When we heard the directive, we looked at each other and knew the drill.

Laughing, we took off running, already turning a deaf ear to the, “be careful” and “go straight there and come straight back”—the usual send-offs from our mothers.

To our credit, we nearly always accomplished our errands before detouring. It was no different this time. We accomplished the delivery of Sikh’s father’s message, then we raced to the lake on our way back to Sikh’s house.

We stripped down to skin and jumped in—couldn’t have wet clothes convicting us upon our return home.

And after one of his dives, Sikh did not surface.

It was beginning to get dark; the sun had already set some time ago and the light was fading. I dove time after time—frantically, crying—snot and tears mixing with the lake water.

I screamed his name; I cursed him for not appearing; I begged him to show himself; I bargained with god; I prayed; I ranted at him, the gods, myself, almost drowning myself I was so exhausted.

I finally gave up diving and ran to his house, bursting in upon the group, naked, wild and crying.

We were searching in the black water, candles and lanterns of some sort on the banks and held high by family members and friends—many more had joined us.

Finally, one of Sikh’s older brothers brought his naked body up and out of the dark lake.

The women set to wailing at this sight and their mother fell to her knees when presented with this affront, this horror. His limp, blue body was so small and deflated in his brother’s arms.

The contrast between the two bodies, one small, blue and still, the other so large and vibrant and colorful, was obscene and shocking.

I felt a weird, sick anger at his older brother for being so alive while Sikh was so still.

I also felt the guilt settle squarely on my young shoulders in that lifetime with me standing on the bank of that black lake. I felt it sink in and grow roots. I had caused this. It was my fault.

Sikh would never have done anything like this without my suggestion, or more to the facts, my persuasion, because I had nearly always had to talk him out of his doubts, out of his worry at detouring from the normal, sane plan.

So I had jumped into this lifetime to observe and disassemble this guilt.

As that lifetime progressed within my friend’s pointed questions, I began to learn that no one blamed me for Sikh’s death. I was able to feel his parent’s emotions, and I felt only sadness there—both for his death and for their loss—but also for my loss. They knew how close we had been.

As I processed, as she asked me questions, I began to feel guilt’s grip on my throat loosen and then finally fall away. I felt my breath settle lower in my belly; I asked for Sikh’s forgiveness, sending it out into the Universe. I felt only love and warm regard in answer.

I felt me forgive myself. I sent my love for Sikh up and out, hoping it would find him somewhere, in some lifetime, some timeline.

As my friend was finally counting me back up and into the present there in the office, my Inner Advisor turned to me and said with a smile, “He is returning to you this lifetime. Get ready.”

And my heart went into a wild, wiggly dance of joy, gratitude and anticipation at this unexpected and welcomed news.

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everyday karma at Everyday Joe’s Coffee House

Also published at elephant journal as The Karma Cafe

I continue to listen to him, but mostly I am just letting his voice soothe me.

We talk, and I watch him from across the table—but mostly I feel the energy coming off him, out of him. I know him as a very authentic person—have known him for some time now. He is calm and not about the drama, but the more he talks, the more I can feel the slow, small everydayjoes1twist of the hurricane he carries inside his chest. And I am so glad not to be a part of that, selfishly glad not to be in his shoes. I can hear those waves crashing from all the way over here on my side of the table. When he speaks, I love the heavy, watery weight of his voice, his laugh even more so: deep and gravely and calm. I ride the waves of his voice, and willingly let that undertow pull me down and under. From somewhere deep inside of myself, I sit and listen.

He talks of the books he’s read to help explain his situation. He thinks he must somehow ‘ride it out,’ ‘see what lies beyond this,’ ‘pass this test.’ He keeps pulling all those platitude cards out of his deck and placing them on the table; he talks a nice talk.

Maybe it helps him—him thinking he is actually accomplishing something. I can feel him wanting to stay in integrity, wanting to do not only what is correct but also what is right. But it spins slowly, and as I move away from the eye of his hurricane, it begins to get sloppy. This place of heaviness is home to him now. I can sense the thick brownness of it, how it feels congested, unhappy and weighty and sad. Still, he is calm. I can also feel the uncertainty there that has become his certainty. This is his way of living now, but I know it has not always been so. He has let it become his obligation, his world. karma1

I don’t feel sorry for him; he has choices, and he decided somewhere along the way to take this on. Mostly, it feels heavy. It feels like a burden he picked up or that maybe built up slowly over time. And now he doesn’t quite know how to put it down, doesn’t know if he wants to. It might seem unnatural to be without it now. I feel, behind his words, a question; he’s wondering if there is a resolution, a completion to be peacefully navigated.

It feels a bit surreal and out of sync—like that dream that wakes you before the end. And you wonder if that was the dream or if, like an unfinished movie, it is continuing to play somewhere and you just woke up too soon—before the end.

beancycle4Karma is like that. I burn mine until it’s gone, but there seldom seems to be a real conclusion. I’m always waiting for the cosmic credits to roll, to clue me that it’s over. I don’t recognize the end because I’m usually too busy wondering what happened. Where did I go wrong this time? My mind stumbles around, shell-shocked, glassy-eyed, mumbling to itself, trying to find solid ground again. But nothing ever really can go ‘wrong’. It goes according to the karmic plan. That’s how karma works.

My karma is like low-budget, artistic, independent foreign films that end abruptly and weirdly, leaving a strange, unsettled taste in my mind’s mouth.

So I continue to listen to him, but mostly I am just letting his voice cradle and soothe me. At 1stphone2one point he asks for my advice, and I reluctantly bring my mind back to the table, pause too long for social propriety (because I don’t know quite what to say), and finally try this, calmly:  “I cannot give you an unbiased opinion …” At which pause, and with perfect comedic timing, he interrupts and says, “I don’t want your unbiased opinion. I want you to be on my side!”

We laugh a few bars, and in some back room of my mind, I use those precious seconds to scrape together the cokarma7urage to start again, “I can’t give you an unbiased opinion on what to do with your insecure, controlling girlfriend, who is making you very unhappy, because … I am too attracted to you.”

And everything stops.

And we stare at each other.

Across the table.

Over the coffee cups.

His eyes become watery—and with that, mine want to also, so I let them. “Me too,” he says.

Careful, this is what happens, Mr. MW, when you know/love a writer. 🙂

Past Life Regressions in Hypnotherapy

doorwaystairsKeep in mind that Hypnosis, in general, and especially past lifetime regressions, may take practice before you get the hang of it and feel comfortable enough with the process and how it feels to be able to have a full, vivid experience. Although some people will go instantly into a deep Hypnosis and then to a lifetime. We never really know until we give it a try. Evedoorto pastn Brian Weiss, the author of Many Lives, Many Masters, and recognized expert in past life Hypnosis, admits it took him quite some time before he had a past life experience of his own, even though he had been helping his clients do that for a long time.

Your mind is 15 – 20% conscious and 80 – 85% subconscious, and when the conscious and subconscious minds disagree, the subconscious thought/belief will always win. When the subconscious supports and agrees with your conscious goals, you unleash your maximum potential. And hypnosis is recognized as one of the most effective ways to affect the subconscious mind. Ninety percent of men, women and children easily learn hypnosis.  It is an education-communication system that allows the conscious and subconscious to communicate and then believe the same message and be on the same page.  Hypnosis automatically reduces stress, creates greater clarity, improves focus and enhances subconscious functions. You can even teach your body to regulate ‘automatic’ responses like blood pressure, wound healing, etc.

Past life regressions, in Hypnotherapy, can be very helpful and are always fascinating, in my opinion.  Many times, when working on healing a specific issue, and we ask the subconscious to take us to the origins of that issue, we will go to a past life, b/c that is where that issue signsfirst began. In our quest to heal the issue by going to it’s birth/origination, we end up in another lifetime, working on the same issue in that life that the client is working on in this lifetime. The issue often gets passed on to each lifetime until the lesson is learned or it is no longer needed. When the issue gets healed in the past life during the Hypnotherapy session, it is often healed in the current life.

Some reasons to visit past lives include but are not limited to:
Find the source of
~ A fear or phobia
~ Karma with a specific person
~ An aliment, disease or pain
~ A limiting belief                                                                                                                                           ~ To find their current friends/lovers/family in other lives and explore certain dynamics of those relationships
~ To alleviate or ease the fear of death—this will often ease the grieving process, as the client then knows their loved one who recently crossed over is not really ‘dead.’

Something that might be important to remember is that most people have had many other lives – most probably as a human, but some people have been other species in dimensions other than the Earth plane. We also have all been both male and female at different times in different lives. We may have not alwaysstairs been the upstanding, fun, good people that we are now – we have done just about everything there is to do in those lives – this nearly always includes killing and hurting people. Usually the people/souls closest to us this lifetime have either killed us, or we have killed them – usually both, at one time or another.

So don’t be shocked if you jump into a lifetime where things don’t seem to be going well for you, b/c these are usually the types of things that have been passed from those lifetimes into our current one and that we are needing to work on.

It is also very possible to access “good” lives – lives that were easy and fun and where we had everything we needed and had a great childhood, etc. I will sometimes have clients visit this type of lifetime if they are having a bad time of it this lifetime in order to get them to remember what that feels like. We can also ask ourselves, in other lifetimes, what knowledge and wisdom we, in that other life, have to offer us now, in this lifetime, to help us succeed at something.

open-your-eyes-to-the-beauty-around-you-open-your-eyes-to-the-wonders-of-life-open-your-heart-to-those-who-love-you-and-always-be-true-to-yourselfIn doing past life regressions, it is nearly always possible to access “between” lifetimes – when we have died in a past life and have crossed over. It is in this state that we often receive very high, big-picture type of information for the client’s immediate use. Accessing future lives is also a possibility.

With any of this, and as always, don’t hesitate to contact me for more information, as I am happy to share what I have learned with you.
cooley.grace@gmail.com

Heal on.

karma

Moving away from the eye
it begins
once again
to get sloppy
and I watch it rotate from my birds-eye
relieved to not be a part of that
but I can hear the waves of thunder
all the way over here

when he speaks I can feel
see
the small slow brown hurricane he carries
inside his chest
wanting to do what not only is correct
but also what is right
it spins slowly
he takes his time
it is home to him now

I feel the heavy brownness
of it
how it feels thick and congested
unhappy and weighty
sad
I can also feel the uncertainty there
that has become his certainty
and the obligation
his way of living now
his norm

mostly it feels heavy
like a burden he picked up
or that built up slowly over time
and now he doesn’t quite know how to put it down
doesn’t know if he even wants
to
it would seem unnatural to be without it now
not right
surely there is a completion here to be navigated
I feel him feeling

like that dream that wakes you
but without a conclusion
and you wonder if that was
the dream
or if like an unfinished movie
it is still playing somewhere
and you just woke up before
the natural end

karma is like that
I burn it until it is gone
but there seldom seems
to be a real conclusion
an ending
annotated by the credits

I don’t always know when
we’re done
when it is completely burned
because I’m too busy
wondering what happened
where did I go wrong this time

only nothing went wrong
it actually went according to Plan
it’s just done