Do You Believe in Past Lives?
Do you
believe in reincarnation of the soul? Years ago I would have said absolutely not
due to my faith and upbringing as a child. I did not believe in past lives or
in reincarnation, and certainly would not have been open to the idea.
However, I found it quite
interesting that the subject always seemed to pop up throughout my life at odd
times. For instance, on TV shows I watched or in the middle of a conversation
with friend; the subject just seemed to follow me.
Then one evening, around Christmas time
at my house, I was sitting amongst friends around my kitchen table laughing and
having a great time when an old Irish Christmas song came on the radio. Suddenly,
as if I were transported back in time, I was not at my kitchen table anymore. My
friends had all disappeared and I was sitting on a gold painted throne,
slightly raised above a stone covered floor, in a dimly lit castle.
I could tell it was dark
outside due to two large windows to my far left in what was a very large room
or great hall, spanning from ceiling to floor. The environment seemed to be lit
by two large wall sconces containing several candles in between the massive
windows. I looked around the room to see the walls and floors were made of
stone and there was an extremely large fireplace spanning a great deal of
length, on the right wall. In the middle of the room was a table that looked
like it could sit forty people or more and seemed to be set for an evening
dinner.
All of a sudden, I was aware
of people signing from the left of where I sat. I looked over to see a choir of
people, dressed in old peasant style clothing, who seemed to be looking towards
me smiling as they sang the Irish Christmas song happily.
I then looked down to see I
was wearing a long yellow dress that went to my ankles, made of silk and lace
near my neckline. I was very hot from the dress and it felt extremely heavy on
my body. I felt cramped from my torso to my chest and I felt it was hard to
breath. As I looked down at my cloths I could feel the dress with my two hands,
and then saw that I had on lace gloves. These gloves looked handmade and were
off white, but beautiful. I soon looked down at my feet to find I had on wooden
yellow shoes that were terribly uncomfortable due to my toes being crammed
inside. The wooden shoes were painted yellow with cute little white flowers
near the front of my toes.
I began to wonder where I
was. Had I somehow fallen back in time? I questioned. What was
happening? Where in the heck was I? Who are these people? However, I didn’t
want to draw any attention to myself or for someone to see or notice that I may
be acting strange, odd, or different than normal. Nevertheless, I was curious
as to why I didn’t feel like myself. My body felt different, as if I wasn’t
really me. Was I somehow someone else? But how could that be possible? I
thought to myself.
Looking to my right I saw a
very large, older, unattractive man with reddish mid-length balding hair, and a
shaggy mid-length beard. He was also dressed in yellow sitting beside me. The
man seemed to be wearing the same yellow I had on, as if it was planned. The
man looked on at the choir expressionless as they continued to sing the old
Irish Christmas song. I glanced down the
man’s body as he sat to my right, his legs appeared to be swollen, even scabbed
over with sores from his calves to his knees. The sores did not look as if they
had been treated well and I felt that the man possibly had a bad case of gout. The
large red-headed man had on long white knee high stockings and wooden heeled
shoes. But his heels seemed to look higher then my own. Taking a closer at his
face, I saw that he looked rather agitated and seemed to move around as if in
discomfort, or pain, in his large carved golden throne.
I never spoke to anyone, just
looked around the room in observation trying to take in the environment. This
must be a different time period, I thought. At that moment I abruptly became aware
of my head hurting. As if metal was digging into my skull. I lifted my lace
covered hand to touch the top of my head and hair to find a tight silk headband
made of firm wire. It seemed to have a white lace headdress coming out of it
from the back, which flowed down the back of my head and neck.
Without warning, the old
Irish song ended and I was back in present day time sitting at my kitchen table
with my friends in my house. The
red-headed older man in the dim-lit room with the choir had gone and I heard my
friends laughing and joking next to me around my table, like nothing had
happened at all.
After my experience that
night memories started to come back to me from my former life. I also began to
ask others if this ever happened to them. These memories would often happen
during the day and were triggered by a smell, sound, or songs; mostly Irish ones.
For example, in another past
life memory I had I was sitting at a desk inside a castle tower in a small room
with a bed, behind me there seemed to be a staircase going downward. I was hot inside the room, but the tower did
have a medium sized window containing no glass that was wide open.
I was writing fast and passionately
at my desk and I was proud of what I seemed to be writing down. I felt that I
was teaching others through my words. From this passion of writing and
teaching, I felt that I must have been a female writer, which was rare during
this time period.
Soon I became aware of
someone coming up the stairs that I feared. I felt it was a man that I truly
hated and he was coming to hurt me, or inflict pain upon me. I knew this from
past experiences in this memory. I began writing faster and faster, I saw
myself in this memory dabbing my quill pen into a little bottle full of black
ink as I quickly wrote my thoughts.
I was in a hunter green heavy
silk dress and was very hot, sweating, and extremely uncomfortable. However, I
felt I was used to these awful conditions as it was a part of daily life. Soon
I heard the footsteps of the dreaded man coming closer and closer to the top
where I sat. Swiftly, I grabbed my writing, ink, and quill and jammed them all
into a small hidden drawer underneath my desk and then I turned to face the man
I feared. After that, I am jolted back to present day. I have experienced this
memory several times and each time I experience more detail, but I never see
the man or his face.
Soon I began having memories
from other past lives taking place in other countries such as: Germany, Paris,
and Italy. From this, I began to suspect that I had several past lives. I then
used my gifts to ask the angels if these memories I was experiencing were
accurate from my past lives and were my own, to which they answered me back
with a yes.
Today I do a lot of past life
readings in order to help people heal and gain an understanding of why they are
here living another life again. I find it is mostly due to trauma or a horrific
accident ending a person’s life quickly. I also find this is why a lot of
people have an excessive fear of things such as water, fire, and/or
relationships.
I believe, and have seen it
myself, that if one faces their own our fears head on, they will move past them
and be able to live happily. This is what God wants from us and why we are sent
back to earth to live again. We are to break the bad cycles from our pasts and
be happy, and only then can we live in Heaven happily for eternity later.
I have spoken to many people
about past lives and have done many past life readings. Many people, like
myself, do experience what we call déjà vu moments, and also have memories from
past lives. For example, a friend of mine began telling me memories from what she
believes to be from her past life. This memory began haunting her at the age of
two years old and she has given me permission to tell her story.
Sylvia’s story:
I
was born with a gift and am able to see, perceive, and know things. I was very fortunate because my family never
doubted me when I told them things ever since I was able to talk.
Since
I was very young, around the age of two, I had a picture in my head of where I
used to live in my last life. At night, when it began getting dark out I would
start to cry and tell my mother she wasn’t my mother and I wanted to go home. When
I got a bit older I’d told her I had a sister and two brothers, and that I died
because my throat hurt.
My
grandma and great grandma would do everything to calm down me because I’d cry
so pitifully. Around the age of six I
seemed to stop, but to this day I have a memory of my house and my siblings.
Sylvia also
told me about a fantastic book regarding a woman’s past life called, Across
Time and Death: A Mother’s Search for Her Past Life Children, By Jenny Cockell.
Jenny was on several TV shows in the 90’s, including the Phil Donahue TV show,
documentaries, and a movie which was made about her past life experiences and
memories.
Jenny
Cockell’s story is amazing because it changed her current life in positive ways
due to sharing her story, but it also reunited her past life family members. As
I write this, I am currently reading this brave woman’s story now.
I also
found a very interesting documentary series on Amazon Prime called, The Ghost
Inside My Child. This show documents parents whose children suffered from trauma
from their past lives in the form of dreams and while awake. Their children
often claim that their parents are not their parent saying, “You are not my
mother. I have another mother.” As a mother of children myself, this truly must
hurt a mothers heart. I can only imagine the pain from hearing these words from
your own child. In addition, these children
also claim to live elsewhere and miss their families, or want to go home, just
like my friend Sylvia above did.
So does our
soul, which is made of energy, live on to be reincarnated? Are we able to live multiple lives again and
again, and are past lives real for us to learn from? Are these memories and
experiences, which I have had and others have had, true and real? The answer is
simple, YES!!
©Rosella C. Rowe
For more information on Jenny
Cockell and the Amazon Primes Series:
-ACROSS TIME AND DEATH: A
MOTHER’S SEARCH FOR HER CHILDREN By Jenny Cockell
-Jenny Cockell Website: https://regressionjournal.org/jrt_author/jenny-cockell/
-The Ghost Inside My Child,
TV Doc. Series, Amazon Prime Video