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GreenKnight's memories

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GreenKnight

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I had a PL dream of being a woman in her late 20's shot in the kidney area in the Burning Time. Salem in the 1600's. Interestingly enough I have recurring kidney problems in this life.

The problems surfaced..in my late 20's.

I also believe I was a Civil War soldier shot in the same area of the body. This happened in a cornfield. But as lots of Civil War battles took place in cornfields I cannot pinpoint it further.

After I finally made the connection between the 2 lives and the present condition. the infections and such became less and less frequent and are sporadic now.

This post and discussion is continued in the thread Imprints
 
Memories triggered by a flute

Several years ago I was with friends and family members camping in the woods in Virginia. We had built a fire and were all sitting around talking.

One of the people there was a lady who was (and is) a professional flute player. She had her flute with her and she started to play it.

The feeling I got was at first like looking through a dirty or wrinkly pane of glass. It cleared up and I saw myself dressed in an old gray coat and there was a rifle by my side on the ground and some tents to the left.

Some of the people around I "recognized" as people I knew in this life. The lady flute player was there but to my right instead of to my left as she had been in the Virginia of the late 20th century. And she looked to be a young boy in his early teens. The feeling was one of loneliness homesickness and fear.

This post and discussion is continued in the thread Triggers
 
Mystery of Julia Carr

I had a dream where I was riding through a forest in some kind of "pod" just enough room for one. I was wearing gray loose pants that came to the knees, white stockings and some kind of pointy black shoes. Also a very roomy white shirt with long billowing sleeves and a bow type thing at the neck. The outfit was (to my modern mind now) feminine but I felt I was male in the dream.

I looked out the window of the thing I was riding on and saw very tall trees and lots of brown leaves on the ground.

I looked up to the trees and noticed they all had names written or atttached to them but very high up on the trees.
I either could not make out all the names or I cannot recall them awake. Except for one.

Julia Carr - Died 8 Yrs

I have never (in this life) met any Julias, Julies yes but no Julias and I dont personally know anyone surnamed Carr.

After that I was in a stone structure with a narrow set of steps between 2 walls. I was to meet with the queen but it seemed like a secret.

I went up the narrow steps/tunnel and waited in a beautiful room but either she never showed up or I dont remember. About then I woke up or was in a not awake-not asleep state and all I could think of was Julia Carr.
 
Born in Yorkshire, 1870's

I was born in England somewhere in Yorkshire in the late 1870's . I left my wife who seemed to have had some illness that prevented her from walking and went off to sea in a merchant ship. I died around 1910 or so. My last name then was Winters.

The wife I left was named Sarah and she is the present day mother of my oldest daughter.
 
Andrew McTavish

I dont know my Regiment or anything or when I was born. Mostly I remember feelings.

From dreams and flashes spanning most of my life, this is what I remember.

My name then was Andrew McTavish. I was born and raised in South West Virginia south of Roanoke. I lived on a farm on the edge of some woods. A stream ran by the house and there was a water wheel. I get the feeling the people that raised me were not my parents.

I joined up at 17, the reasons for the war were not important to me. I wanted to impress the ladies by being a soldier. Specially one lady named Elizabeth. It distressed me greatly that I could not write her after I left . I was illiterate.

But I was nobody's soldier anyway. I was overweight and nearsighted (I am still nearsighted in this life and have had corrective lenses since age 11) There were some soldiers from Georgia who teased me because of my age, weight and because I "could not grow whiskers" They were cruel in their teasing.

On my first battle at Cedar Mountain, I didnt get to fire a shot. I got so scared that I tried to run away but got confused and ran into a cornfield were the battle was taking place. I did not run away from the battle but Into the battle! There was a Big gated house beyond the cornfields.

There was a guy (in the cornfield) from my company. I think his name was Jacob. He was trying to run away too. He said something and I laughed. I was laughing when the Union man shot me in the back just above the waist. The Union man was very tall possibly an officer and had a fancy hat.

I saw myself on the ground and "Jacob" was running. The Union man was shooting but Jacob got away.

I went home after that but everyone was gone from the farm. I sat on a rock for a long time watching the waterwheel. It no longer moved and I was sad. Some black children came to the stream to get water. They were laughing and playing and I was sad that I had not lived my life.

One of the little black girls looked right at me and I tried to talk to her but she got scared and ran away. I dont know what happened after that.
 
A low ranked monk in Spain

Last night I had what I can only describe as a PL dream. I saw myself wearing dark grey robes. I was very young. There were many men there all dressed in black robes. They were monks or priests. There were many horses.

I was standing on a dirt path and my wife Erin was there. But she didn't look like Erin. In the dream she was dark with dark eyes (Erin has red hair green eyes and freckes in this life) and was wearing some sort of a dress with many layers. It was gold and red. She was crying. One of the monks grabbed me by the arm and pulled me away from her. He said either "Forget the gypsy" or "leave the gypsy" I am not sure which.

Recently I discovered an intense dislike for Gregorian chants. I posted about it in a thread called "Music".

Interestingly my wife who is 100% Irish in this life, loves Spanish Flamenco music and gypsy songs.

I don't know for sure at this point but I would have to say it "felt" like around the time of the Inquisition.

Since the dream I have had other mini flashes of that life but nothing that would pinpoint the date..or maybe....well these monks copied manuscripsts so the printing press had not been invented.( Wow I just realized that) .

I however was not allowed near the books. This angered and frustrated me. I wanted to write and draw the illustrations and was not allowed. That is all I got so far.

I thought Inquisition because of the feeling of the church being an all powerful and fearful institution at the time. I felt like I did not want to be a monk but did not dare refuse. Of course the church was all that for eons and I just associated Inquisition because that was the ultimate power trip/fear inducing time.

I did have the very strong feeling of being a lower ranked monk. I was in my mid teens in that dream and I have the feeling (but no proof) that I did not live a long life. So I probably never did get to be near the books I craved.
 
An illiterate monk?

There are some PL's that I remember rather well (as a Civil War soldier for one) and others I don't know quite as much about.

I know that in most of the PL's I do remember, I was illiterate or semi illiterate. In most of those lives I had a great desire to learn to read and write but almost never achieved that goal. In my present life, I have a great love of books and learning is very important to me.

I remember (not very well) a life as a monk. In that life I believe that I was poisoned or murdered somehow as I remember an older monk making sly remarks and smirking as I was dying a slow agonizing death. In that life I wanted to copy manuscripts and do illustrations but was forbidden to do so.

It is possible that I was not allowed near the books because I was very young and low ranked. I think it may be possible that a young man was taking into a monastery being illiterate, since a large percent of people then would have not known reading and writing.

This religious order was Catholic. There was chanting in Latin..lots of chanting. and I hated it. Even now a recording of monks chanting will give me a panick attack.

There was tedious work involving plants, vegetable growing and that sort of thing. I felt trapped and did not want to stay in the monastery. did not want to be a monk. It seems to have happened in Spain or very western France.
 
Physical resemblance

From what I can remember I have always been dark haired and dark eyed. Always. But that is only what I remember there is much I just don't remember.

As Andrew McTavish, Civil War soldier, I was well over 6 feet tall and heavy. As the English man who lived and died in the early part of the 20th century I was about maybe 5'5 or 5'6 and very slim. ( This time I am 5'10.) I did catch a glimpse of the Englishman in a dream once as he walked past a glass window. He had the same look in his eyes I see on the mirror every morning when I am shaving.

As a female servant in Colonial America I was about 5'6 or 5'7 and had the same eye- look as well.

Lately I have had a couple glimpses of a Native American man in the Great Lakes region of the US. Very tall, very strong and of course dark hair and eyes. But I have not been able to really see the eyes yet.
 
An indentured servant in Colonial New England

I remember vividly being a female indentured servant in Colonial New England.

I was running through a field of dried leaves with a very small girl who was dressed all in white.

In slow motion I looked over my right shoulder and some men were coming after us. I remember one man's shoe buckles perfectly. I remember his black hat. He raised a gun that was fluted at the end like a trumpet. Seemed it took a long time to raise it to his shoulder the time moved so slow.

Then he shot me in the back. I remember telling the girl "Run as fast as you can" and I saw her running in slow motion and then all went black.

This post and discussion is continued in the thread Slow motion
 
Ekaterina is my wife......


Does anyone know where the name Ekaterina is from? It sounds Russian to me but I am not sure. I would guess its English equivalent would be Katherine but is it Russian?


Last night I dreamed I was standing under a tree talking to a tall slender dark haired woman. She had a dark ankle lenght skirt and a white blouse with long puffy sleeves. Her hair was up in kind of a bun at the top of her head and she carried one of those old fashioned umbrellas (a parasol according to my wife). She was in her late teens or early twenties.


I was wearing a soldier's uniform. Dark pants and a stripe down the pant leg.


She wanted me to go somewhere with her. I kept telling her I couldn't and I kept saying "Ekaterina is my wife".
 
1800's Ireland - coming home


I remember coming home. It was a tiny hut on a very green hill.


There were 3 or 4 children and a woman outside the hut waiting for me. There were also maybe 2 or 3 sheep.


Looking out from the front door I could see a river below. There was smoke coming from the chimmney.


I hugged the woman (my wife I guess) and the children tugged at my sleeves to be picked up. We were poor in material things but we had so much love and warmth!


I am not sure where this was. From the clothes I would say 1800's and it "feels" like Ireland because of the vividly green hills.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Everyday memories
 
Napoleonic Imperial Guard Seaman


In the dream I am a soldier. Actually I look like one of those old fashioned lead toy soldiers


<>


Along with 2 or 3 other guys dressed similarly, we are in a huge room (a train station type of place) waiting to escort some VIP's. My uniform is a beautiful shade of metallic blue. We all wear those tall cylinder hats with a tiny visor. Ours are white. We also wear white soft leather gloves.


The VIP's have arrived. I am assigned to bring a small suitcase or valise over to a small table and place it there.


One of the VIPs is a young slender girl with light brown hair.


She is wearing a light green dress with many ribbons and many layers. She bends over the valise to open it just as I am placing it on the table and my face almost touches her head. I can't see her face, she is bent over but I smell lovely perfume.


Her hair is about shoulder lenght and not smooth and silky but kind of "wiry" which I don't usually find appealing but still, I want to touch it. Of course, I never touch her and step back.


Later we are on a carriage. Soldiers on one side, ladies on the other. I don't look at her, I don't look at anything but my tall shiny black boots. But I am imagining touching her face and hair.


Next I am alone in a small room that looks like a privy. I am sick to my stomach and want to cry because I will never see her again.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Napoleonic soldiers
 
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