So here's my story..

[Kalos]

So, here's my story about "remembering a past life". I put that phrase in quotes since I'm not 100% convinced this is the case and certinaly not very comfortable talking about it. Apologies also, since it's going to be a little long, I'm afraid.

I'm 48, male and have a wonderful family (two daughters I adore). I'm not an American (it matters). When I was about 30 or so, I had that dream while taking my Sunday evening nap. All the sequence was observed first person (not like watching a movie).

I was in the middle of a fierce battle, riding a horse. The scene felt like it was more of a local skirmish, part of a large scale battle. I wore a dusty blueish uniform. All around me, I could see my fellow soldiers in total confusion as bullets flew right and left, trying to control their horses but in reality doing nothing, just riding around in small circles as no specific orders were given. Every few seconds a horse or a rider or both would drop wounded or dead as we were being shot at constantly. I thought to myself, every commanding officer is dead, I'm the higher ranked now, I shall make the call or we'll all gonna die here. The hell with it, we're charging. (my fingers tremble right now as I type this. It's bringing back scenes).

I looked around for the bugler. Couldn't locate him. People were dying left and right. I brought my horse to a halt facing the enemy line and yelled "form ranks behind me". The language in the dream was english, which ain't my first language. Even my thoughts were in english, if it makes sense. I thought that a single rank would make us a smaller target and reduce the casualties. "Form ranks behind me! Form Single rank! SINGLE RANK!" They all started forming a single, long rank behind me, trying to keep their horses in place and repeating the order "form single rank" to those behind them. The battle noise was immense. So were the dust clouds our horses were creating. I was turning my head back to check once in a while, wasn't like in a movie third person perspective. I never saw myself, my face. There were about 50 of us still standing at that time. I gave the order. "Draaaaw saaaabers!".. I drew mine. "Forward! Troooot" The bullets were whizzing by, I was sure the next one would hit me. I was on the column head. The enemy line was about 300 yards away. Infantry, and were shooting at us covered behind a low stone wall. "Gallop!" I yelled and could hear the horses behind me going into a gallop. Turned a last time around and saw the column breaking up, some were faster than others. I thought to myself I should order the charge in quick succession or noone will make it alive to the wall. We were like ducks in a shooting gallery. Almost immediately I yelled "Chaaaaarge!!" and I heard the yells of my comrades behind me, yells of "charge" mixed with ferocious yells people make when, you know, charge.. mixed also with cries of pain, as people and horses were being shot, stumbling down, dust clouds rising, bullets whizzing, hell.

An undetermined amount of time later, I remember myself reaching within 10 yards of the stone wall. Must have been seconds but really I was seeing only red and grey in the meantime. I thought "how many are still behind me, I'm gonna die probably". Decided to jump over the wall. Front legs of the horse went clear above, felt the rear legs hoofs hit the top stone line of the wall but it still landed well. For the first time I saw the enemy clearly just as some of them laid down and others backed up to the left and right when I was about to jump over their heads. They wore grey uniforms and holding long muskets. Turned my horse around and saw in relief that most of us made it. Now we're gonna slay you all down, I thought in wild joy and raised my saber. Not more than 6 feet away I saw an enemy soldier cowering behind the wall, on the ground, unarmed, sheltering his head in his hands. He lifted his head and looked at me, crying in terror. I saw his face pretty well. I "recognized" him, even though he was not a look-alike, as a co-student in my high school class, in this life - the one I live now. I just knew somehow it was him. A guy that always hated me for no apparent reason but at the same time was so, so scared of me that he wouldn't even look me in the eyes. I haven't seen or heard of this guy since I was 14.

Then blank and silence. No more dreaming. But I "heard" that internal voice in my dream "and that's the day I became a captain", just as speaking to myself, in a proud manner. Like a thought, not like in another person's voice.

I woke up at that point and later told my wife about it. We had no children back then, we were married for a year or so. I remember telling her how vivid it was. I did some research on the net the next days and determined that was probably from the US Civil War. The internet wasn't what it is today 18 years ago. There wasn't all much info around to be found. I had never, ever seen a movie or read a book about that war. Ever. I'm a huge fan of history and conflicts throughout the ages but that war was always, strangely, "not of any interest" to me. I would AVOID dealing with that era.

That's my dream, I didn't change or omit or added a thing. The "commands" I describe were exactly like that. I haven't "corrected" a thing. It was not "draw swords" for example, it was "draw sabers". It was a vivid, lucid dream, full of sound and most of all emotion. Strong feelings. Fear, hate, desire.

Three years ago, at the age of 45, I remembered. Nothing in between. But that's for another post.

 

[Shiriya]

Welcome to the forum, Kalos! What an interesting experience. This very much sounds like a past life your soul recalled, beckoning you to look into it more. Have you began regressing since then?

 

[SeekerOfKnowledge]

This definitely wasn't a normal dream, with this amount of detail.
Looks like a past life to me.
There might be other explanations, but none I can think of would be very likely.
Hope you will be able to cope with these horrible memories so that you still can live your life.

 

[Kalos]

This definitely wasn't a normal dream, with this amount of detail.
Looks like a past life to me.
There might be other explanations, but none I can think of would be very likely.
Hope you will be able to cope with these horrible memories so that you still can live your life.

Thank you Seeker,

At that time I thought the same, that it's a PL dream. What came 15 years later "proved" it was. I was able to pinpoint that battle through historic evidence as well. I shall continue my post with that part of the story shortly.

 

[Kalos]

Welcome to the forum, Kalos! What an interesting experience. This very much sounds like a past life your soul recalled, beckoning you to look into it more. Have you began regressing since then?

Thanks Shiriya!

I haven't had a PL regression yet, guided/assisted by a therapist or solo. I might have one pretty soon though, I think it's time. All the "memories" that came back starting 3 years ago were either spontaneous or after "asking", the most vivid one in another dream where I relived my death.

 

[Shiriya]

Thanks Shiriya!

I haven't had a PL regression yet, guided/assisted by a therapist or solo. I might have one pretty soon though, I think it's time. All the "memories" that came back starting 3 years ago were either spontaneous or after "asking", the most vivid one in another dream where I relived my death.

No problem! I think you really should. It sounds like your soul's trying to get that life's karma cleared out.

 

[Kalos]

I shall continue my story but try hard for two things: One, not give any hints to whom I refer to (meaning the guy that died during the Civil War) and two, keep it short(er than last time)

So 15 years passed after that dream, I was 45 and all of a sudden, one fine day (night) I had another dream, very intense again, the content of which I wouldn't remember in the morning (or now) but I did remember that it woke me up in the middle of the night crying. The only thing I remembered the next morning was it involved me fighting for the North in the US Civil War and my rank. No name, nothing else. I function a lot through "feeling" in my life and can tell that the feeling associated with that "knowledge" was a deep, deep sorrow. After some research I find a list online with all Union officers carrying that rank and I go through the list (a long, long one). Srolling through pages his name pops out and I immediately know it's him. I click, his picture appears and I break down in tears. I was crying for so long and so loud that I couldn't breath properly. We look very, very much alike.

Long story short. Since then, I have remembered a huge amount of information about that person and his life. Very often the detail is extreme and they come in different ways:


Spontaneously:

Visiting a store with my wife, we came accross a study furniture and I told her "I used to have one like this, darker color and it had a lock also". A stream of images came to me and when that happens, I immediately know what "life" these images come from. I felt a different "self" than my current sitting and writing on that study, still "me" though, remembered I kept some stuff locked in there, remembered the room.

Laying on my bed before sleep, my college professor name came to me. Like the irrelevant thoughts that sometimes come to mind just before sleep "oh I need to water the garden, what a nice ice cream I had last week at that place, Dr. Brown (not his actual name btw) my college professor". I immediatelly knew what life Dr. Brown's memory came from and I said his name out loud. After research, it checks out. Same college, same year.


Triggered:

My wife tells me about an airplane accident she heard on the news and how the plane came down near lake Powell (fake name again here). I responded "hey you know, my mom's maiden name was Powell". That was a brand new piece of info that came to me.

I watch a show on TV and someone asks what substance was used for percussion caps in muskets. I simply say out loud "Mercury'.

I see a picture of a buffalo and the stream of images of me hunting them along with all kind of info (where, when, how it felt) overwhelms me.

I play a computer game which at some point shows Native Americans and there's Apache and Sioux and Lakota and whatnot. At some point one of them reads "Ute Scout" and I think in the most natural way "Ah there at last, a tribe I've met".


"Asking" or "trying" to remember:

I was all alone in the countryside and asked myself calmly "what was my horse's name". The answer isn't coming from an external source, to describe it as best as I can it feels like when my daughters try to spell a complex word. "H.. HHHH.. Haaa... Haaaaannn.. ibaall.. Haaniibaaall..Hannibal". That's not the actual name again, I don't want to reveal his identity. I search everywhere, turn every stone but there's no reference of that horse's name anywhere. Months later, contacting a special researcher and author I asked about the horse's name and, yeah, he confirmed it.

Again alone, asking myself "so if you're him, what specific words and calls did you use with horses". The words just came. Naturally. "Whoa, easy now boy". Mind you, I'm not an American and english is not my first language. "What brand of pistol did you carry? How many rounds it had?" the responses came, naturally. From within, with next to no effort. All check out later. "How would you load your rifle?" that's a funny one because I remember it being a breach loader. Turns out, cavalry carbines were in fact breach loaders.


In a dream:

Just one dream I remember of, my death sequence. I didn't ask for it to be revealed but it happened, about a year and a half ago, so a year and a half after I first "found out" who I was.


All of the above are examples. I could probably write a book or two about this person's life, I remember growing up in the family farm, I remember the German guy my father hired to work for us and details like greeting him with "guten abend" because I liked the sound of it. I remember my brother, my mom, my dad, my uncle. The farm horses that I learned how to first ride. I can recognize historical figures of the time by their photos. I remember hunting buffalos, enlisting as a volunteer, fights, battles.. too much death.

I'm proud of who I was, of things I've accomplished back then but I despise war. Just wanted to make that clear. I'm not bragging. I'm deeply sorry for some stuff I did in that life. I didn't even like it back then. I lost a finger to a stray bullet and the pain, oh the pain and the despair knowing it's gone for ever. Still people would tell me it was no big deal, that finger wasn't useful in loading a gun anyway. This is such a twisted way to look into things! War drives people mad, makes them wild animals.

I typed some more stuff but deleted them, don't want to go into detail, I feel shame. Hope that feeling stays and my lesson is learned. I don't want to go through it again another time in another life.

My wife is the only other person that knows about all these but still not in such a thorough manner. Thanks for listening to me.

 

[fireflydancing]

What a story! It must have been huge when you saw a picture of your former self. First recognizing the name in that list and the name matched a picture that was so familiair to you.
I guess you mend him when you mentioned meeting someone (in spirit) three years ago. You met yourself from another time.
So you didn’t want that reincarnation therapist who suggested it could have been a download from a stranger. It didn’t feel that way for you. It was all too emotional.

Thank you for sharing your story.

 

[Shield2]

Reading your first post, there´s the old chills up and down my spine, saying: "Yup, real". Thanks for posting this. Have most probably been in PL wars myself (WII, 19th ctry Russia). But not many concrete memories to go on. Your detail is great. The general doing war and battle-feel is very familiar. One mix or another of pandemonium, heady, rousing, ice in your veins, "Doin´ it man!, I´m doin´it, I´m killing that loser!!! **** I didn´t want that! He had it coming!", your buddies, the pride, the cowardice, the, well... bloodlust, the being sick to your stomach and paralyzed by panic, being zoned in, acting well and right on target, feeling more alive than ever, feeling deader than ever , mentally and/or physically FUBAR , the gunsmoke and hot iron, the smell of hot iron (...?), the noise, the cold, no food, the sweet and the disgusting food, crapping whereever, the heat, complete exhaustion and carrying on forever etc. OK , got me ranting.... I´m reading on.

 

[Angie Brown]

I shall continue my story but try hard for two things: One, not give any hints to whom I refer to (meaning the guy that died during the Civil War) and two, keep it short(er than last time)

So 15 years passed after that dream, I was 45 and all of a sudden, one fine day (night) I had another dream, very intense again, the content of which I wouldn't remember in the morning (or now) but I did remember that it woke me up in the middle of the night crying. The only thing I remembered the next morning was it involved me fighting for the North in the US Civil War and my rank. No name, nothing else. I function a lot through "feeling" in my life and can tell that the feeling associated with that "knowledge" was a deep, deep sorrow. After some research I find a list online with all Union officers carrying that rank and I go through the list (a long, long one). Srolling through pages his name pops out and I immediately know it's him. I click, his picture appears and I break down in tears. I was crying for so long and so loud that I couldn't breath properly. We look very, very much alike.

Long story short. Since then, I have remembered a huge amount of information about that person and his life. Very often the detail is extreme and they come in different ways:


Spontaneously:

Visiting a store with my wife, we came accross a study furniture and I told her "I used to have one like this, darker color and it had a lock also". A stream of images came to me and when that happens, I immediately know what "life" these images come from. I felt a different "self" than my current sitting and writing on that study, still "me" though, remembered I kept some stuff locked in there, remembered the room.

Laying on my bed before sleep, my college professor name came to me. Like the irrelevant thoughts that sometimes come to mind just before sleep "oh I need to water the garden, what a nice ice cream I had last week at that place, Dr. Brown (not his actual name btw) my college professor". I immediatelly knew what life Dr. Brown's memory came from and I said his name out loud. After research, it checks out. Same college, same year.


Triggered:

My wife tells me about an airplane accident she heard on the news and how the plane came down near lake Powell (fake name again here). I responded "hey you know, my mom's maiden name was Powell". That was a brand new piece of info that came to me.

I watch a show on TV and someone asks what substance was used for percussion caps in muskets. I simply say out loud "Mercury'.

I see a picture of a buffalo and the stream of images of me hunting them along with all kind of info (where, when, how it felt) overwhelms me.

I play a computer game which at some point shows Native Americans and there's Apache and Sioux and Lakota and whatnot. At some point one of them reads "Ute Scout" and I think in the most natural way "Ah there at last, a tribe I've met".


"Asking" or "trying" to remember:

I was all alone in the countryside and asked myself calmly "what was my horse's name". The answer isn't coming from an external source, to describe it as best as I can it feels like when my daughters try to spell a complex word. "H.. HHHH.. Haaa... Haaaaannn.. ibaall.. Haaniibaaall..Hannibal". That's not the actual name again, I don't want to reveal his identity. I search everywhere, turn every stone but there's no reference of that horse's name anywhere. Months later, contacting a special researcher and author I asked about the horse's name and, yeah, he confirmed it.

Again alone, asking myself "so if you're him, what specific words and calls did you use with horses". The words just came. Naturally. "Whoa, easy now boy". Mind you, I'm not an American and english is not my first language. "What brand of pistol did you carry? How many rounds it had?" the responses came, naturally. From within, with next to no effort. All check out later. "How would you load your rifle?" that's a funny one because I remember it being a breach loader. Turns out, cavalry carbines were in fact breach loaders.


In a dream:

Just one dream I remember of, my death sequence. I didn't ask for it to be revealed but it happened, about a year and a half ago, so a year and a half after I first "found out" who I was.


All of the above are examples. I could probably write a book or two about this person's life, I remember growing up in the family farm, I remember the German guy my father hired to work for us and details like greeting him with "guten abend" because I liked the sound of it. I remember my brother, my mom, my dad, my uncle. The farm horses that I learned how to first ride. I can recognize historical figures of the time by their photos. I remember hunting buffalos, enlisting as a volunteer, fights, battles.. too much death.

I'm proud of who I was, of things I've accomplished back then but I despise war. Just wanted to make that clear. I'm not bragging. I'm deeply sorry for some stuff I did in that life. I didn't even like it back then. I lost a finger to a stray bullet and the pain, oh the pain and the despair knowing it's gone for ever. Still people would tell me it was no big deal, that finger wasn't useful in loading a gun anyway. This is such a twisted way to look into things! War drives people mad, makes them wild animals.

I typed some more stuff but deleted them, don't want to go into detail, I feel shame. Hope that feeling stays and my lesson is learned. I don't want to go through it again another time in another life.

My wife is the only other person that knows about all these but still not in such a thorough manner. Thanks for listening to me.

I hope you have found the purpose of why you remembered, and have been able to resolve within yourself and to let it go so you aren't burdened with the more distressing memmories.

Quite a few of us prefer to not name who we were in a pl. This could be for two reasons 1) to prevent questions from idle curiosity 2) if we were well known there may be others claiming the same identity for one of their p/l's. I came across a claim elsewhere, years ago, of a young lady who was convinced she had been someone who I remembered being even as a child in my current life. I didn't communicate with her about it and just left her to believe it if she wanted to. Nothing to be gained by arguing - but some people might. Perhaps the spirit splits, amoeba like? So can be reborn into more than one new body? Maybe. I remember reading that idea by someone else who thought it a possibility, but keeping our past complete identities private can avoid problems.
That doesn't mean no one should ever state who they were. Obviously, it's personal choice but I guess some of us prefer not to.

Best wishes,

Angie

 

[SeekerOfKnowledge]

Quite a few of us prefer to not name who we were in a pl. This could be for two reasons 1) to prevent questions from idle curiosity 2) if we were well known there may be others claiming the same identity for one of their p/l's.

3) It sounds outrageous even to your own ears and/or you are insecure and sometimes still have doubts.
4) PL-paranoia. The irrational fear that bad things will happen to you or those you love if you talk too much. If you have done something really bad or something really bad has been done to you, it can cause such.
5) Just doesn't feel right to "claim" anything without solid validation or without having excluded all other possibilities without doubt.
6) Fear of being called mentally sick, attention seeker or what else. While one should not give to much to what others say, such things still can hurt a lot.
There might be other reasons, too. No matter the reason, I think someone's choice to remain vague or not to share some memories should be respected.

At least, there should be a way you can share some memories and especially your feelings. Speaking it out can come as a relief for some, like getting something off your chest and making the burden easier.

 

[fireflydancing]

Hi SeekerOfKnowledge,
I don’t see this problem. We are very anonymous here in this place. I can freely share I was queen Mary or Cleopatra without a problem. Nobody knows my identity. And why should I care whether all these readers believe me or not? If it’s really my truth, it will remain my truth regardless non-believers.

I understand that someone prefers keeping things to themselves. If it’s not a story you want to share, than don’t. In this case it’s internal motivation. You are the captain of your own ship.

I don’t believe everything that I read. But my believe or disbelieve should’t be YOUR motive to keep silent or influence other behaviours.

 

[SeekerOfKnowledge]

You are the captain of your own ship.

True, as is Kalos. Just adding possible reasons to what Angie had said.

I don’t believe everything that I read. But my believe or disbelieve should’t be YOUR motive to keep silent or influence other behaviours.

Everyone has the right to doubt. That's fine. There are people who do not believe in reincarnation at all. True, the possible doubt of others shouldn't be anyone's motive to keep silent.
Again, just was listing possible reasons. All of us should listen to our gut feeling and share what feels good to share and keep to ourselves what feels wrong to talk about.

 

[Angie Brown]

What I truly appreciate about this forum is the respect, and the lack of rancour. I have read very convincing accounts by people of having a pl where s/he has been famous/infamous, but so far there is a lack of judgement and an acceptance of what is gone, is gone and the Spirit of a person is no longer of the character that they were. Their death/s since drew a line, and the person and circumstances that led them to do as they did - it is gone and they are now very very different, as are we all.

Peace.

 

[Shield2]

I shall continue my story but try hard for two things: One, not give any hints to whom I refer to (meaning the guy that died during the Civil War) and two, keep it short(er than last time)

So 15 years passed after that dream, I was 45 and all of a sudden, one fine day (night) I had another dream, very intense again, the content of which I wouldn't remember in the morning (or now) but I did remember that it woke me up in the middle of the night crying. The only thing I remembered the next morning was it involved me fighting for the North in the US Civil War and my rank. No name, nothing else. I function a lot through "feeling" in my life and can tell that the feeling associated with that "knowledge" was a deep, deep sorrow. After some research I find a list online with all Union officers carrying that rank and I go through the list (a long, long one). Srolling through pages his name pops out and I immediately know it's him. I click, his picture appears and I break down in tears. I was crying for so long and so loud that I couldn't breath properly. We look very, very much alike.

Long story short. Since then, I have remembered a huge amount of information about that person and his life. Very often the detail is extreme and they come in different ways:


Spontaneously:

Visiting a store with my wife, we came accross a study furniture and I told her "I used to have one like this, darker color and it had a lock also". A stream of images came to me and when that happens, I immediately know what "life" these images come from. I felt a different "self" than my current sitting and writing on that study, still "me" though, remembered I kept some stuff locked in there, remembered the room.

Laying on my bed before sleep, my college professor name came to me. Like the irrelevant thoughts that sometimes come to mind just before sleep "oh I need to water the garden, what a nice ice cream I had last week at that place, Dr. Brown (not his actual name btw) my college professor". I immediatelly knew what life Dr. Brown's memory came from and I said his name out loud. After research, it checks out. Same college, same year.


Triggered:

My wife tells me about an airplane accident she heard on the news and how the plane came down near lake Powell (fake name again here). I responded "hey you know, my mom's maiden name was Powell". That was a brand new piece of info that came to me.

I watch a show on TV and someone asks what substance was used for percussion caps in muskets. I simply say out loud "Mercury'.

I see a picture of a buffalo and the stream of images of me hunting them along with all kind of info (where, when, how it felt) overwhelms me.

I play a computer game which at some point shows Native Americans and there's Apache and Sioux and Lakota and whatnot. At some point one of them reads "Ute Scout" and I think in the most natural way "Ah there at last, a tribe I've met".


"Asking" or "trying" to remember:

I was all alone in the countryside and asked myself calmly "what was my horse's name". The answer isn't coming from an external source, to describe it as best as I can it feels like when my daughters try to spell a complex word. "H.. HHHH.. Haaa... Haaaaannn.. ibaall.. Haaniibaaall..Hannibal". That's not the actual name again, I don't want to reveal his identity. I search everywhere, turn every stone but there's no reference of that horse's name anywhere. Months later, contacting a special researcher and author I asked about the horse's name and, yeah, he confirmed it.

Again alone, asking myself "so if you're him, what specific words and calls did you use with horses". The words just came. Naturally. "Whoa, easy now boy". Mind you, I'm not an American and english is not my first language. "What brand of pistol did you carry? How many rounds it had?" the responses came, naturally. From within, with next to no effort. All check out later. "How would you load your rifle?" that's a funny one because I remember it being a breach loader. Turns out, cavalry carbines were in fact breach loaders.


In a dream:

Just one dream I remember of, my death sequence. I didn't ask for it to be revealed but it happened, about a year and a half ago, so a year and a half after I first "found out" who I was.


All of the above are examples. I could probably write a book or two about this person's life, I remember growing up in the family farm, I remember the German guy my father hired to work for us and details like greeting him with "guten abend" because I liked the sound of it. I remember my brother, my mom, my dad, my uncle. The farm horses that I learned how to first ride. I can recognize historical figures of the time by their photos. I remember hunting buffalos, enlisting as a volunteer, fights, battles.. too much death.

I'm proud of who I was, of things I've accomplished back then but I despise war. Just wanted to make that clear. I'm not bragging. I'm deeply sorry for some stuff I did in that life. I didn't even like it back then. I lost a finger to a stray bullet and the pain, oh the pain and the despair knowing it's gone for ever. Still people would tell me it was no big deal, that finger wasn't useful in loading a gun anyway. This is such a twisted way to look into things! War drives people mad, makes them wild animals.

I typed some more stuff but deleted them, don't want to go into detail, I feel shame. Hope that feeling stays and my lesson is learned. I don't want to go through it again another time in another life.

My wife is the only other person that knows about all these but still not in such a thorough manner. Thanks for listening to me.

All the hairs on my body standing on end and tears come. The shame- I know about that. What do you do? I for one hid away unconsciously in shame and buried my very fiery personal power for most of this life. And this appearing in your mind at the time it did must have been signaling some powerful development going on...? I´m wondering, how did you deal with aggression, aggressive interaction, in this present life? And, more "trivially", if that´s the right word, have you had any physical remnants of pain from the finger you lost? And I like how non-ordinary information presents itself to you sometimes in synchronistic, outer shape like "Powell" etc., often works like that for me too. It´s a powerful story. You should write that book. It might mean a lot to other people, too. Atoning is a tricky concept, but couldn´t this possibly be one way of coming further to peace with these intense life memories? Anyway, thanks. Here´s a mental hug.

 

[Kalos]

Thank you all for your responses and the kind words. Means a lot to me to be able to "talk" about it. I wasn't looking for people that will "believe" some guy's claims that a Union officer reincarnated halfway around the globe into him, 100+ years later, but for people that feel and can align with what I'm going through. Sometimes I doubt myself about the very essence of this "reincarnation claim" I make. Nevertheless, the effects on me and my everyday life are the same, no matter if it's true or if, like it was suggested, this man's "spirit" channels his life to me for some reason - or even if I'm a lunatic. At least I know I'm not making all that up and like I said, the consequences on me are the same.

Shield2, you're spot on with what you describe when in battle, although we were a lot more "innocent" the rest of the time. Almost like boy scouts on a field trip, there were laughs and joking and fooling around and pranks, I dare say we were almost "having a good time" as it involved a lot of riding and almost no marching, camping in the countryside, sharing - tents, provisions, stories around the fire before sleep, the hot morning coffee to start the day. We were young and naive, being in the cavalry also made us feel special, like we were a higher species of soldiers. It was like a gaming adventure at first, until a fight would happen. Then you would lose a few friends and nothing would be the same again and it got worse as time went by.

To everyone, I can't answer to all of your posts but sincerely appreciate what you said and agree with almost everything. I respect and totally understand someone who makes his or her PL identity public but in my case I feel it's better that it's kept private. He's not all that well known, not a "hero" or anything, but his name can be found on record and there's a few photos of him. He's mentioned extensively in a book but that book isn't about him. Goes without saying, I had never heard of that person before - or of that book, that I found about only a year after I remembered - and I bet none of you has. Allow me to lighten it up a little, it's not General Custer couldn't be anyway because George outlived me by a lot, it seems after all. Everyone would bet it would be the other way around back then.

See, some times I refer to that Union Officer as "him" and others as "me".. I haven't come to terms with it completely. I doubt I ever will. It brought subtle but at the same time huge changes in my life. Less than a year into it, I became a vegetarian. I don't want to start any talks about that, I mention it not as a "good thing" or a "bad thing" but just because it happened, I couldn't eat meat anymore, it tasted bad! All possible pros and cons and personal opinions about it aside, I can't help it but connect these events. Other stuff, like starting my daughters on horseriding courses but arguing with their instructor I find perfectly justified - and mostly funny.. not always though, like when he asked me how I knew some stuff, told him I had horses (never rode one in this life) but I wouldn't elaborate and tried to change the subject. So he probably thought I learned from youtube and asked me "hey so you probably know where a horse's heart is right?" - I immediately "remembered" I did, as I had one of these streams of memories overwhelming me. I shot mine at point blank straight in the heart, I had to, he was wounded and dying and I was using him as cover, but he was kicking so hard in his agony that would break my skull eventually.. Didn't tell him the full story, just the answer.

I think I went on quite a bit on my story and I really appreciate this forum's people stance on it. I'd very much like to remain an active member and try to be helpful in any way I can if you would have me.

 

[Kalos]

All the hairs on my body standing on end and tears come. The shame- I know about that. What do you do? I for one hid away unconsciously in shame and buried my very fiery personal power for most of this life. And this appearing in your mind at the time it did must have been signaling some powerful development going on...? I´m wondering, how did you deal with aggression, aggressive interaction, in this present life? And, more "trivially", if that´s the right word, have you had any physical remnants of pain from the finger you lost? A powerful story. You should write that book. It might mean a lot other people, too. Atoning is a tricky concept, but couldn´t this possibly be one way of coming further to peace with these intense life memories? Anyway, thanks. Here´s a mental hug.

I feel relief that none of my loved ones knows what I "have done" back then, that's how I try to deal with shame.. When I was a young boy in this life, I used to organize my friends into groups and lead them into "battle" but I guess every boy does that.. Later in the army in my 20s, I firmly refused to become an officer and was punished for that severely (it's considered a great disrespect towards the army apparently to be offered and refuse). I think about it now and suppose I didn't want to have any of it again, subconsciously. Leading men to their deaths. Or such.. Nowadays, sometimes I feel I'd like to unholster my gun when someone makes me really mad. I'm all against violence, luckily I don't have one and it lasts for a split second but the notion is there.

I can't say there is anything special with this finger in this life. I have though a somewhat defective left kidney, just where one of the bullets hit me the day I died. That kidney got me into the hospital 3 times in my life, the pain was unbelievable and nothing would help me effectively, not even morphine. Apparently it was a kidney stone every time but nothing showed up in the xrays and it just passed on its own every time, within seconds, after hours of suffering. Doctors said it must have been "sand" as they couldn't find a stone. That's years before I remembered, it still aches now but nothing too serious. Another bullet hit me on the chest, below the left shoulder, few inches above the heart and it's sore there for no apparent reason, since I was a kid. When I go to the beach, that specific spot won't get a sun tan and a red circle about an inch wide is formed. Always thought I had some skin condition, now I guess I know better. One more bullet hit me on my left hip and sometimes it hurts there but nothing serious and a last one below my right breast but I have no symptoms to that. These wounds I saw and felt before I died. There was a fifth bullet but I don't remember where it hit as it was the deathblow.

Thanks for the hug.. it helps!

 

[KenJ]

I'd very much like to remain an active member and try to be helpful in any way I can if you would have me.

No need to ask, your contribution has earned you more than acceptance in my opinion.

 

[Shield2]

What comes to mind is... you seem to have been a really strong individual back in that time. But turning the tables on yourself like this ( though I guess, not conscious of the choices involved. Who knows how that works?), and facing your own past actions in grim detail, is maybe evidence of equal if not greater strength. Turning down the honor of becoming an officer in this life, and bearing the consequences, sure speaks of it...!

Another thing is, you were an accomplished and a well skillful soldier, not average. So, maybe this wasn´t your first time around training the job, let´s say, who knows? Which in that case would make these decisions present-life against doing war, violence, killing even animals, all the more powerful, decisively ending a chain of action. And, no I don´t think every boy leads his friends into battle the way you describe...

The medical effects you describe of the PL bullets to your body... that´s certainly mighty testimony!
The double-exposure of the moments of death and clinical present day. I think it tells it so well.

That last line,... man:

"There was a fifth bullet but I don't remember where it hit as it was the deathblow."


This might sound really silly and sappy but this is how I feel: You´re an example. And reading your story, I´m realizing things about being proud of myself. Good job.

(I´m at a critical time in my personal life, divorce etc. With a probable PL as a soldier/writer/unhappy pest, making himself known increasingly in the mix, for the last couple of years. Your story does something there.)

 

[Tinkerman]

Kalos... Welcome! And thank you for sharing your story. It seems many of us have come to the forum with powerful memories that have broken through the ages. I echo what many have said above, and add that your telling of the story is indeed quite indicative of a past life memory. As mine unfolded I personally needed some form of validation and went through past life regression therapy with a doctor in Colorado, it confirmed everything I already knew and brought forth even more. If you have the opportunity and means I recommend it.

I also want to HIGHLY recommend you read the book Someone Else's Yesterday, by Jeffery Keene. He is/was a fire chief in Connecticut. He went through a very, very similar awakening. And his memories are of the Civil War too. Jeff is a member of this forum. His memories are very elaborate and incredibly real, down to birthmarks at every place he was wounded. He even looks like him in this life. Google the book title and you'll see him and the general on the books cover. This is a remarkably documented story that I'm sure you'll find valuable.

All the best in your journey.

~Tman

 

[Kalos]

What comes to mind is... you seem to have been a really strong individual back in that time. But turning the tables on yourself like this ( though I guess, not conscious of the choices involved. Who knows how that works?), and facing your own past actions in grim detail, is maybe evidence of equal if not greater strength. Turning down the honor of becoming an officer in this life, and bearing the consequences, sure speaks of it...!

Another thing is, you were an accomplished and a well skillful soldier, not average. So, maybe this wasn´t your first time around training the job, let´s say, who knows? Which in that case would make these decisions present-life against doing war, violence, killing even animals, all the more powerful, decisively ending a chain of action. And, no I don´t think every boy leads his friends into battle the way you describe...

The medical effects you describe of the PL bullets to your body... that´s certainly mighty testimony!
The double-exposure of the moments of death and clinical present day. I think it tells it so well.

That last line,... man:

"There was a fifth bullet but I don't remember where it hit as it was the deathblow."


This might sound really silly and sappy but this is how I feel: You´re an example. And reading your story, I´m realizing things about being proud of myself. Good job.

(I´m at a critical time in my personal life, divorce etc. With a probable PL as a soldier/writer/unhappy pest, making himself known increasingly in the mix, for the last couple of years. Your story does something there.)

I'm just a guy, certainly not an example regarding anything, unless you mean coming forward with my crazy story and claim, I'm sure lots and lots of people are keeping these to themselves.

I wish you all the best on getting through the hard times you're going through unscathed!

 

[Kalos]

Kalos... Welcome! And thank you for sharing your story. It seems many of us have come to the forum with powerful memories that have broken through the ages. I echo what many have said above, and add that your telling of the story is indeed quite indicative of a past life memory. As mine unfolded I personally needed some form of validation and went through past life regression therapy with a doctor in Colorado, it confirmed everything I already knew and brought forth even more. If you have the opportunity and means I recommend it.

I also want to HIGHLY recommend you read the book Someone Else's Yesterday, by Jeffery Keene. He is/was a fire chief in Connecticut. He went through a very, very similar awakening. And his memories are of the Civil War too. Jeff is a member of this forum. His memories are very elaborate and incredibly real, down to birthmarks at every place he was wounded. He even looks like him in this life. Google the book title and you'll see him and the general on the books cover. This is a remarkably documented story that I'm sure you'll find valuable.

All the best in your journey.

~Tman

Thank you Tman, pleasure is all mine. I will certainly check Jeff's story out and try to get a copy of his book. As for the regression therapy, I agree that I should get over my hesitation and go ahead with it soon.

 

[girlinblue]

So, here's my story about "remembering a past life". I put that phrase in quotes since I'm not 100% convinced this is the case and certinaly not very comfortable talking about it. Apologies also, since it's going to be a little long, I'm afraid.

I'm 48, male and have a wonderful family (two daughters I adore). I'm not an American (it matters). When I was about 30 or so, I had that dream while taking my Sunday evening nap. All the sequence was observed first person (not like watching a movie).

I was in the middle of a fierce battle, riding a horse. The scene felt like it was more of a local skirmish, part of a large scale battle. I wore a dusty blueish uniform. All around me, I could see my fellow soldiers in total confusion as bullets flew right and left, trying to control their horses but in reality doing nothing, just riding around in small circles as no specific orders were given. Every few seconds a horse or a rider or both would drop wounded or dead as we were being shot at constantly. I thought to myself, every commanding officer is dead, I'm the higher ranked now, I shall make the call or we'll all gonna die here. The hell with it, we're charging. (my fingers tremble right now as I type this. It's bringing back scenes).

I looked around for the bugler. Couldn't locate him. People were dying left and right. I brought my horse to a halt facing the enemy line and yelled "form ranks behind me". The language in the dream was english, which ain't my first language. Even my thoughts were in english, if it makes sense. I thought that a single rank would make us a smaller target and reduce the casualties. "Form ranks behind me! Form Single rank! SINGLE RANK!" They all started forming a single, long rank behind me, trying to keep their horses in place and repeating the order "form single rank" to those behind them. The battle noise was immense. So were the dust clouds our horses were creating. I was turning my head back to check once in a while, wasn't like in a movie third person perspective. I never saw myself, my face. There were about 50 of us still standing at that time. I gave the order. "Draaaaw saaaabers!".. I drew mine. "Forward! Troooot" The bullets were whizzing by, I was sure the next one would hit me. I was on the column head. The enemy line was about 300 yards away. Infantry, and were shooting at us covered behind a low stone wall. "Gallop!" I yelled and could hear the horses behind me going into a gallop. Turned a last time around and saw the column breaking up, some were faster than others. I thought to myself I should order the charge in quick succession or noone will make it alive to the wall. We were like ducks in a shooting gallery. Almost immediately I yelled "Chaaaaarge!!" and I heard the yells of my comrades behind me, yells of "charge" mixed with ferocious yells people make when, you know, charge.. mixed also with cries of pain, as people and horses were being shot, stumbling down, dust clouds rising, bullets whizzing, hell.

An undetermined amount of time later, I remember myself reaching within 10 yards of the stone wall. Must have been seconds but really I was seeing only red and grey in the meantime. I thought "how many are still behind me, I'm gonna die probably". Decided to jump over the wall. Front legs of the horse went clear above, felt the rear legs hoofs hit the top stone line of the wall but it still landed well. For the first time I saw the enemy clearly just as some of them laid down and others backed up to the left and right when I was about to jump over their heads. They wore grey uniforms and holding long muskets. Turned my horse around and saw in relief that most of us made it. Now we're gonna slay you all down, I thought in wild joy and raised my saber. Not more than 6 feet away I saw an enemy soldier cowering behind the wall, on the ground, unarmed, sheltering his head in his hands. He lifted his head and looked at me, crying in terror. I saw his face pretty well. I "recognized" him, even though he was not a look-alike, as a co-student in my high school class, in this life - the one I live now. I just knew somehow it was him. A guy that always hated me for no apparent reason but at the same time was so, so scared of me that he wouldn't even look me in the eyes. I haven't seen or heard of this guy since I was 14.

Then blank and silence. No more dreaming. But I "heard" that internal voice in my dream "and that's the day I became a captain", just as speaking to myself, in a proud manner. Like a thought, not like in another person's voice.

I woke up at that point and later told my wife about it. We had no children back then, we were married for a year or so. I remember telling her how vivid it was. I did some research on the net the next days and determined that was probably from the US Civil War. The internet wasn't what it is today 18 years ago. There wasn't all much info around to be found. I had never, ever seen a movie or read a book about that war. Ever. I'm a huge fan of history and conflicts throughout the ages but that war was always, strangely, "not of any interest" to me. I would AVOID dealing with that era.

That's my dream, I didn't change or omit or added a thing. The "commands" I describe were exactly like that. I haven't "corrected" a thing. It was not "draw swords" for example, it was "draw sabers". It was a vivid, lucid dream, full of sound and most of all emotion. Strong feelings. Fear, hate, desire.

Three years ago, at the age of 45, I remembered. Nothing in between. But that's for another post.

My apologies for the late reply, but I am so eager to have found your story. I too am from the US Civil War, and also fought for the Union. I want to thank you for sharing, as I know it takes a lot to do. Being able to take in your story brings me comfort, knowing there are still others out there from my time. I hardly ever see anyone with a past life from the Civil War, so this is so refreshing to see. I hope you are doing well, and thank you for your service.