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Funny memories

deborah

deborah

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I am curious. Many members have shared their experiences of trauma and various difficulties in their past lives. Bad relationships, tremendous losses, early deaths etc. When we look back in history - there is reason for that. People are very hard on themselves and each other. Life wasn't easy.

I am curious if members have funny memories. :D Things that made them smile and laugh during the experience. I would really like to hear about these experiences and how you felt during and after the experience.

For example, about ten years ago I had an experience that has stayed with me over the years. Cutting to the chase - I was a small boy - in England in the 1600's. I was in the barn and hiding under a huge pile of hay. I had buried myself as deep as I could. I could see my mother through the hay though and could hear her calling my name "Kayln.........."

I was laughing and giggling during the experience - but it was as if I was again --- five years old. I thought it was hilarious that my mother could not see me but I could see her.

After the experience, my heart center felt so open, there was a JOY that resonated from within. Kind of like finding the child within. A spark. I think that when we laugh -we are the most open to our spiritual essence.

Do you have a funny memory to share?
 
:D I remember that in my life as Jessica my father used to sing me a little song everytime I got into something and made a mess (which was quite often:tongue: ). He was a charming man with a big, booming voice, but he used this silly little sing-song voice and he would say "Principessa Jessa likes to make a mess-ah." Then he would tickle me and I would giggle. Thinking of it still makes me laugh...and I can feel that little kid full-body giggle bubbling up inside of me. :laugh:
 
I found this by Henery Boldec -

In recent years the healing power of humor has been widely publicized, and now the value of humor is even being taught in medical schools. But long before the recent recognition of humor, both Erickson and Edgar Cayce were its strong proponents. Dr. Erickson is credited with being the first to use humor as a vital part of psychotherapy. “Humor is important because it often bypasses the intellect,” he would observe. He was famous for his funny stories, practical advice, and teaching tales. For example, he once asked a friend, “Do you want a good recipe for longevity?” He told the friend, “Always be sure you get up in the morning — and you can insure that by drinking a lot of water before you go to bed.”

Cayce also spoke of humor in many of his 14,000 readings, in some cases advocating that people specifically incorporate humor into their lives — even instructing some individuals to read the Sunday funnies. To others he recommended being optimistic and making at least three people laugh each day. He explained it would be as good for them as for the other people. Even Jesus, he related, laughed and joked with people throughout his life. “For, remember, the Master smiled and laughed often, even on His way to Gethsemane.” (Edgar Cayce reading 2984-1)
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Sometimes I think we take ourselves far to seriously. When we laugh we are the most open to change, spirit and who we truly are.
 
A great thread, Deborah! :thumbsup:

I'm sure I have more of these and I hope to return with more memories to share, but I immediately thought of my life in Ireland in the 1600's and my little daughter that had cute, little tantrums over wearing a cap she didn't want to wear. And she was very much like that also later in a life in the 1950's in the U.S.

Both times as her mum I felt like laughing in a good way at her tantrums - and I sometimes did too, but I also had to try and be serious and firm about the things I told her to do. Remembering it now I can laugh all I want and even tell her that as I know her in this life too. :laugh:

Karoliina
 
Hmm through all my memories/regression experiences i dont think i remembered a "funny" memory.



Oh well in my life as a woman in first half of the 1900's, my daughter would use my real tea set, and china to play outside with. and in one memory i came home and she was in the back yard, i seen all my china and tea cups scattered about, obviosly she did this all the time, and i just had to smile.

not so much funny but still a nice memory. in a recent regression i went back to when i was a teenager in that life, probably 14 -16, it was probably 1915-1918. and it was summer. i was outside with all my freinds, me and a few girls, and the boys who were all playing baseball in the street. and me and my freinds were "pretending" to play as well. probably just to watch the boys. i just remember laughing with my freinds, then i sat up on this concrete fence like thing and watched, it was just such a nice memory. i really wish i could have stayed there forever. just the scenery, like summer but afternoon, kind of orangish out, warm, ahh. i really loved it.

most of my happy memories come from my youth in that life, i know after i got married and got pregnant it all went downhill from there. but im glad when i regress, my mind doesnt focus on the sad, or upsetting memories all the time, i really enjoy those little memories that really mean so much.
 
This is one of those memories that wasn't funny at the time, but is funny looking back (although my friends seem to find it a bit funnier than I do).

This memory surfaced in a dream...

I'd been out to one of my political meetings, and when I came home my wife reminded me that I needed to be out feeding the chickens...now.

So, wearing my suit and dress shoes, I went out to feed the chickens...now. They were obviously ready to be fed, and they pecked at my ankles. Which were not protected by boots, and it hurt.

What's funny about this memory is that I was literally a "hen-pecked husband".

Phoenix
 
Notes from my life as a Native American man who was adjusting to life on the Reservation at the turn of the century:

"Just to make you chuckle, here's a few amusing events of his life, post-Washita".

Learning to wear Wool trousers that itched so much, it made him walk funny.

And this story:

In that lifetime, there were two missionary women - widows, I believe. They had a gramophone, which was near a window, and used to crank it up and play it for their entertainment. Well, they were not only entertaining theirselves...I too became fascinated with the music coming from that old gramophone. Everytime they cranked it up, I would be there, sitting on the
ground outside of the window listening...sort of enjoying myself, I guess. I scared the bejesus out of them. Now, I don't mean to sound prejudice, because that's not my intention but you need to think about how most Caucasians looked at the Natives at that time...for two Caucasian women living alone with no male in the household to protect them, and having a strange Native man sitting outside of their window almost everyday...well...

But these were staunch missionaries who believed their lot in life was to save the souls of the Natives. So, they asked him in one day and allowed him to touch, look at and listen to the object of his fascination (I can still see the look on his face...just like a child seeing something wonderful for the first time). After that, they gave him clothes, taught him to read a little, speak a little bit of English and gave him an English name because they couldn't pronounce his Native name.

It was one of the rare moments in that lifetime when he/I actually felt a bit of joy...and I still smile thinking of it. :)
 
One more...

I have one more memory that makes me smile...this happened during my very first regression session when I was taken back to the life I wrote about above.

Bobby, the man who was regressing me had asked me what my name was in that lifetime. (We had already established that I was a Native American male, about 17 years old). I had a bit of difficulty remembering so he asked me to visualise a chalkboard in front of me and to write my name. I started to chuckle because I saw myself standing in front of this chalkboard but I couldn't write anything...I was actually quite confused, if that makes any sense. When he asked me why I was laughing, I very slowly told him, "I don't know...your...way..." meaning, I didn't know how to "write" words in English. So how we got my name was by slow pronounciation, syllable by syllable until the name suddenly became crystal clear. It was a very strange experience. :tongue:
 
HI Jere,

Thank you so much for sharing your experiences. What beautiful examples of the simple things - that bring a past life into full view. And what a JOY to read for me. Have you read Eastman's book The Soul of the Indian? It's a pretty fascinating account of how an American Indian boy recorded his cultures belief's -after going through the white-man's education system.
 
Hi Deborah!

Thanks...I am always glad to know that I've made someone happy. :laugh:

My memories of the gramophone incident were probably the only really happy ones I have of that life (which tragically ended in suicide). Whenever I think back...and I can still see the images very clearly...I always smile.

I've only read one book by Charles Eastman which I really enjoyed - Indian Boyhood by Ohiyesa. I'll look around for a copy of The Soul of an Indian. I'm sure it will be good reading. Thanks for the recommendation! :thumbsup:
 
Three funny memories:

In my life as a Native American or Canadian, a flash on my young son coming home muddy on every inch of his body, proudly brandishing the very small fish he had managed to catch all by himself. Somebody asked him, "Did you and the fish have a fight?"

These were in my Sephardi life. I was a little girl. My sister and I shared a bed. One night we were giggling and telling each other to be quiet. It went like, "Shut up so I can go to sleep!"
"You shut up!"
"No, you shut up!"
Then our father called out from his bed, "Both of you shut up!"

A few years later, a boy wanted to kiss me. He said it was all right because our parents had arranged for us to get married. He kissed me, and I thought something like, "Hm, if this is what marriage is like, no wonder everybody's in such a hurry to get married."

Great thread, Deborah. It's fun to be reminded of these moments.
 
Deborah said:
When we laugh we are the most open to change, spirit and who we truly are.
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Absolutely! :D

It does seem like the majority of memories discussed relate to trauma -- so it is refreshing and somewhat uplifting to read about the good things you have experienced.

I would love to hear more funny memories from all of you. Any new members care to chime in?


Ailish
 
Okay, I have another one. It's not a funny memory -- but it is a good memory that still makes me smile.

When I was living as Nicola, one of my favorite things to do was to tease my sister (older by five years) about boys. We shared a room -- and I thought it was completely disgusting when she would sneak out of the window to meet a boy. I teased her mercilessly, I am afraid. :tongue: Yes, I was a pest.

I remember very clearly her 17th birthday party held at my grandparents' home -- it was an all night event with dancing, and plenty of delicious food. She had helped me to dress for the occasion -- and I was proud and feeling very grown-up.

It turned out to be the place I had my first "official" dance with a boy -- with all of the relatives looking on. I remember blushing almost scarlet and giggling like crazy. My father, mother and grandparents were standing off to the side pointing and smiling. I was mortified by all of the attention. I looked for my sister and saw her in in the middle of a crowd of boys -- watching me. She caught my eye and gave me our special "sister sign".

That night in our room, my sister was the one teasing me...:D

Anyone else have something to share?

Ailish
 
Well, I have a memory of a (rather primitive) life somewhere around Indonesia. I was a little girl about age 4 and I had a friend, a little boy about age 6. I don't know exactly my relationship with him, it felt like a neighbour, although I feel this word is not really appropriate, as we lived in a small tribe and were practically all neighbours.
So, one day, this boy had just gotten a gift (from his father?), a sort of knife. And now he was boasting about how strong and fierce he was and that he was a great hunter etc. I remember then we were on a walk near a wood and before the wood was high grassland, that is where we were playing. I was sitting on a rock or so, and he was wading through the grass, waving his knife through it, looking for 'prey'. He wanted to impress me, but he really was exagerating, lol. I hope you get the picture !
Then suddenly, a large 'cat' (I don't know if it was a lioness or a mountain lion or something else) appeared in the grass, rather close to us ! Well, suddenly he wasn't boasting anymore, he started running, grabbed me by the hand and took me with him, he was running so fast I could hardly follow him and we ran to the village to warn the adults.
Gone was his braveness !
Ok, I know it was probably the wisest thing he could do, and it was very nice of him that he didn't forget to take me with him, but when I think of this in reflection, I thought it was rather funny how the 'brave warrior' fled as soon as danger showed up !


Eevee
 
HI Aili,

What a sweet memory. I think it's the little things that make some experiences so special. Did you have this memory as a child or as an adult? I am curious since I am taking notes on what ages people are that relate to the past life experience.

HI Eevee,

That is an adorable memory. Something I am noticing here - is that the funny memories are of childhood. That and the feelings. For example - how you noticed his contrived bravery and Aili remembered teasing and then being the one teased. Thank you for sharing. I think the happy memories are also significant and can be very meaningful. :)
 
Hiya Deborah,

I was a child of about 5 years of age when I first spoke of Nicola’s life. I remembered my older sister and brother, and the way they used to tease me (my brother, Luca, used to dare me to climb trees like he did and then laugh when I got stuck and couldn’t get down. :laugh:)

The specific memory of my “first dance” came around the age of 11 – when I was pretty much the same age as Nicola. When I think of it -- I still feel all giddy, feel the butterflies in my stomach and start to blush. I remember feeling extremely embarrassed by my sister's teasing -- yet at the same time it made me feel proud -- kind of like a rite of passage. ;)

Eevee -- what a great memory! I could totally picture the little boy's bravado at trying to impress you -- and then him fleeing at the first sign of danger -- comical, sweet & cute! :laugh:

Aili
 
Oh man! I can remember many atimes where I've regressed or even had past life dreams with funny things happening in them, but I can't seem to remember much of anything right now! If I think of any, I'll have to come back1
 
The only funny I thing I remember is one I already mentioned in the regression forum.

In my WWII life, I was "involved" with an Italian girl in her home. I suppose her father heard us, because he practically kicked the door down. I just about jumped out of my skin and literally dove out of the poor girl's window in a partial state of undress. Somehow, all of my clothing was with me when this happened. I don't think I ever ran so hard in that particular lifetime. Except maybe in basic training... no, not even then.

It must have been quite a scene to the neighbors who heard the commotion.
 
In my life as Ellie (Italy in 69 AD-ish?) one of my first memories was being in the field in front of my house with my little sister Catia. It was sunny and we were laughing and smiling. She had woven wildflowers into her braids. I woke up from that dream just calm and happy. Resolved.
 
I'm new ;o)

hello,

Just wanted to participate.

I have a memory of being a little girl possibly about 6 to 7 years old. In this memory I am dressed very fancy and I am so excited because my father comes home today! I have long black hair that my mother had curled and I remember her scolding me for not holding still long enough. Anyway I am twirling around in circles watching my green dress fly out around me and I imagine myself as a ballerina. My surroundings aren't elaborate or wealthy but they are definately nice and clean. I live in an old family home. I know that my baby brother is sleeping upstairs in the nursery and I am happy that he won't steal father away this time. I am standing on the balcony overlooking the front door and I see my mother going down the stairs. I really love her and I want to be like her when I grow up. She seems kind and is sweet to me. Then I see the front door open and my heart leaps because I know he has come home at last! I feel he has been gone for months and months because we are having a party. then I see my mother run into a mans arms and he picks her up and kisses her and I remember feeling just absolute happiness at seeing my parents together. My mother was wearing a very long blue dress (not sure of the kind) And I remember believing that she made the dress as she made mine. I feel all giggly and just plain happy to see my daddy again and that is where the memory ends. I'm not sure of the time period but I believe I was in England. The word Loris comes to mind. I don't know if that is a name or a place though. Maybe it is apart of a name.


Another moment that is not so much happy as it is pleasant is this one,

I am a boy of 17 and I think it is raining outside or it is dark. Anyway I am again waiting for someone to come home (I don't know who) and I don't like the person who is expected but I am not afraid of them. I think if anything I feel anger at this person. This time I am in a very poor quality room with a fireplace. We have a small wooden table that looks home made (I think that I made it) and there is a skinny little girl sitting at it playing with a little kitten by rolling a spool across the table. I seem totally adoring of this little girl and I feel an enormous amount of protectiveness over her. I think she is not my sister but we live together as so. She is something like 7 years old and she has brown mousy hair not very attractive but she was so important to me. Anyway that was how I felt like I was watching over her. No one else is in the house and that was how I liked it. I felt an enormous amount of responsibility toward this little girl and I knew she looked to me for everything. Kind of odd really.

Anyway, the feeling is one of content that we are together. I think I felt comfort.
 
Welcome snoopy :)

Thanks for sharing your memories. Sounds like you have some good ones!

I look forward to hearing more,

Ailish
 
I've just had another funny memory and thought I'd put it here instead of the Anabaptist thread ;)

A few weeks after the Krechtings, my "foster" family, and I had arrived in Münster, another batch of newcomers came, this time from the Netherlands. Among them was Jan van Leyden's younger brother Antonius, who looked like a burlier, shorter version of his brother with black hair. When the two brothers greeted each other, I learned that Jan van Leyden called his brother Teunis, which, I guess is the short form of "Antonius".
Anyway, another few days or weeks later Jan asked my "foster father" Heinrich Krechting and me to help plan a mock procession, and of course Teunis was there as well. Jan started calling his brother "Teuntje" (the short form of "Antonia", I think), and then he told me how he and his brother had often put on plays while Jan still was an innkeeper in Leyden. Teunis was still young and beardless then, so he had to play the women's roles - apparently he was so convincing that a drunken bargeman or fisherman thought he really was a girl, and got a bit too friendly. In the end, Teunis lifted up his skirts and asked the other man if he liked what he saw, and Jan said he had never seen anyone else sober up so quickly :)

That was about the last time I experienced Jan van Leyden as the friendly, polite and sometimes impish young man that he was - only a short time later he slipped into the madness that caused his downfall and that of the rest of us. Funnily enough, even before I knew that I'm a recycled Münster Anabaptist, I've always felt like defending Jan van Leyden when someone said something bad about him. I always had to bite my tongue because I wanted to say "Yes, he was a bloodthirsty madman in the end, but he wasn't always like that", even though I never knew why I wanted to say that...
 
:laugh: Reynardine! :laugh:

You had me practically rolling on the floor! What a great memory. :D


Ailish
 
Here's one from a life I've never really talked about before.

Basically -- my mother & I had gone to live with her mother-in-law. I spoke French -- and had never been away from the city before.

Madame -- is what I call my grandmother's housekeeper. I became best friends with her granddaughter Charlie, who was 3 years older than I was.

Madame is showing me and Charlie how to plant seeds in the little garden behind their house. We are going to make a whole garden grow! Madame has hoed the earth – and me and Charlie come down the rows behind her, planting little seeds and covering them up with dirt. Charlie has given me one of her dresses to wear so I don’t have to worry about getting dirty. Charlie wraps a kerchief/scarf around my head telling me “So the sun don’t make you sick up.” I giggle as she makes a face at me and pretty soon we are scattering the seeds a bit haphazardly around. Her Grandmomma turns around and tells us to be more careful with the seeds. That makes us giggle harder and pretty soon we are both sitting in the dirt laughing hysterically. Madame just shakes her head at us.
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It was a fun memory ;)

Aili
 
Every memory I have of my PL is good, with the exception of drowning. One is of the family about to go somewhere, and my sister has designated herself as organizer for us kids (something I associate with her as always doing). My brother (the one about two years older ... see 'two brothers drowning') and I are doing what we can to make it more difficult for her ... hiding some things she has collected, but I can not remember what those things are ... and we are trying very hard not to laugh as she gets more frantic, pretending to be serious. All of us kids are in the hallway downstairs, staircase to the right, two doors to the left, my parents are in the room to the left farthest from me, with the entry way opening up farthest of all ... which puts me at the end of the hallway. My oldest brother catches on and rats me and my brother out. My sister chases us, trying to be mad but laughing.


Another is with this same family, and we are in front of some building, about three stories high, but only two floors on the inside. There is a large parking porch, much like what you see with hotels, but the front of the building is all glass and I can see chandeliers in the lobby. The lobby has a ceiling which goes all the way up, and red carpet. There is an intricate pattern on the ceiling of the parking porch. It is night. I think that it looks like a place where there would be ballroom parties, remembering something I had seen before (a memory in a memory). My oldest brother looks very handsome, and I think that I want to be like him when I grow up. My parents are laughing and talking to people I don't know, and I think how proud I am of them. I can feel a smile on my face.


Not really funny memories, but really good ones.


Some others which I will share later.
 
My best friend in this life used to be my best friend in a life in the 1950's and we attended a Catholic school for girls where we were kind of the 'bad girls', in the sense that we were trouble makers. I just remember one time that we stuck chewing gum on one of the sister's seats and she didn't notice it so she taught the entire class with gum on her bum. Good times. We're still sort of trouble makers in this life...: angel


Another memory that is not so much funny but happy is of my life in Russia in the 1900's, where I lived in a very wealthy family with many siblings. I just remember sledding on a hill near our manor and having a lot of fun. Since I was the youngest sibling old enough to sled in this life all of my older siblings were taking care that I didn't fall off the sled and get hurt. It kind of makes me sad to remember a life where I had such a wonderful family:( but it's good to experience the only-child way of life :)
 
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