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Karoliina's memories

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I was doing meditation to remember past lives, I had a vision of me as a small, black boy. I was dressed in orange clothes, my feet were bare and I was very happy. I was outside and it was really hot and dry. I don't know if it was a desert, but at least it was very arid and I didn't see any trees. Further away I saw two older men dressed in white robes. They were black too.

It probably was in Africa since we were black, and it probably was more in the North Africa since it was so arid.

Putting the pieces together

I'm trying to do research of a past life that probably took place in Estonia in the 13th century. BUT this is only guessing. I have also got hints about lives in other parts of Eastern Europe, that is Ukraine, Slovenia and Poland (Kraków to be more precise), and I'm not sure about the century. It could be as recent as 16th century as well.

I've had a couple of visions and one dream of that life. I believe I was a peasant and rebelled against some conquerors and probably died doing that. Both of the visions have been inside my (then) house and are not very helpful. All I can say, is that the small house is made of wood and we are quite poor. In another vision I come inside and see a woman, probably my wife cooking. I felt quite physically that I wanted to have sex with her, which felt odd, because it was a bit different from the sensations I get in my female body in similar situations. And I'm straight and the woman wasn't really attractive in my current self eyes or to modern standards. In another vision I went upstairs (a small attic), where my wife was in bed with our newborn baby. I said my goodbyes to them and was sad. I think I never saw them again, that I went to a fight or a rebellion of some sort and died.

I'm not sure if my dream was about the same life, but I'm quite certain again that I'm in Eastern Europe and that I'm a man. I'm being buried. I don't know if I'm dead or alive. I feel ok, so I guess I'm dead already, but I watch from my grave - a hole in the ground - how some men are piling rocks and stones over the grave. Somehow I think these men are Czechs, but I'm not sure. I don't even know for how long people from that area have been called or have called themselves Czechs. First I thought they must have been my enemies, probably because I thought I was maybe buried alive, but now as I think how at ease I was, I think they probably were "my people". And I don't think enemies would go through the trouble of piling stones above a grave.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Putting the pieces together
Karoliina's memories

- life in China, don't know when (I just had a dream in which I was looking for the sea shore and told myself "these were the most horrible 20 hours of his/her life")

- life in Ancient Egypt as a man, a black vizier or something like that (maybe during the Middle Kingdom)

- life in Roman times in Southern Europe, I probably worked for the army (I had a dream about witnessing a crucifixion)

- life as a rebellious peasant man in Estonia (Saaremaa), probably in the 13th century or a bit later

- life on the Orkney Isles as a little girl that drowned in the 15th century

- life in Germany in the 16th century as a woman (?), got beheaded by antibaptists in Münster

- life as a male puritan in the 17th century, I was born in England, but sailed to New England, no family

- life as a fairly rich lady in Ireland (Waterford) in the 18th century, unhappy marriage, I probably know my name and who I was

- life as a little girl in Sweden in the beginning of the 19th century

- life as a rich, Southern belle during the Civil War era in the U.S. (but lived also in Belgium as a child), I probably know my name and who I was

- life as a colonalist English man, moved to South Africa; at the end of the 19th century/beginning of the 20th

- life as a Parisian Jewish artist woman (not famous), also during the WWII, I was taken to a concentration camp, but I believe I survived

- unhappy life as a young black woman in Brooklyn, NYC (born in North Carolina), I was born in the 1950s and died at the beginning of the 1970s (I might know my name, but I don't know who it was)


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Your lives in review
Colonial times

I tried to remember something from my England/New England life during self-regression last night, and even though I don't trust my self-regressions 100 %, here's what I got:

  • I was born in the first half of the 17th century
  • I was born in Northern England, in the countryside, but Newcastle may have had something to do with my life
  • I was already in love with a young woman and we planned a future together, when I suddenly decided to travel to the New World to look for a "pure" and more religious life
  • the woman didn't follow me there and I build a house for myself, probably in Maine and dedicated my life to religion without a family.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Your lives in review
Auld Lang Syne, Camille and Edelfelt

I had a dream last night, where I was first at an art exhibition of Albert Edelfelt. He was a famous Finnish painter, who was born in the 1850s and he worked and lived mostly in Paris. Later in the dream I went to a library to look for Alexander Dumas' book Camille.

Well the dream continued. Next I was in an event of some kind, where two young women were on the stage singing the Auld Lang Syne. They had wine glasses in their hands they were toasting.

I was in the audience, and everybody there were singing along, toasting and a bit tipsy. The women on the stage wore big dresses that were mostly blue and white, with a little red in them. One of them was blonde, the other had red hair. I was identifying with or admired the redhaired one. In the audience I was either with two other people or with one, and somebody else was usually with us. She could've been the woman on stage.

Anyway I had a competetive relationship with this person, who was with me, and we were "fighting" over somebody we both liked. I believe we were young men courting the same girl.

My companion and I acted civilized on the outside, but he made a lot of nasty remarks "in between the lines" so to speak, and finally I lost my temper and pushed him to the ground. People started fussing.

That was all. Something makes me believe this dream had a lot of clues about a past life/lives.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Auld Lang Syne
Edinburgh Castle

I had this PL dream last night about the Edinburgh Castle. Somebody were attacking it and I was on a defending side, but I think I was a woman with an about 10 year old son. The attack was a surprise and we just got in the middle of it by accident (from our point of view).

I think this happened hundreds of years ago. A couple of possibilities are the fights that took place during 1296-1314 between the Scots and the English, or the fights during 1571-3 that had to do with Mary, Queen of Scots.

I feel this dream might be related to my earlier dream of being beheaded on a hill with several other people.

The thing that puzzles me is that I think there were a lot of people on our side, like a whole village or something, but why would we all be at the Castle? And I don't feel I was royalty or anything too fancy, so why would I be there? Still, it was very strongly pointed out in my dream we were at the Edinburgh Castle.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Edinburgh Castle
African American girl in the 1960's/1970's

I just thought I'd share this dream I had last night. It was about my latest incarnation before this one.

In that life I was an African-American girl, who died young (as a teenager or in her twenties). I was killed by my boyfriend, who also pimped me to get drugs for both of us. I died in the late 1960's or early 1970's.

In the last night's dream I saw myself as this girl for the first time (before I've only seen what she's seeing, if you know what I mean). But in the dream I was also looking at my hands and they looked like they do now.

I wondered how only my face was black.. Well, you know, dreams are often silly. Anyway I kept wondering how I can be this pale, when one of my parents is black and the other one is not white either (I can't remember if s/he was half-black, Latin, Arab or what, but I naturally did in the dream).

I was quite tall, my hair was tied back/up and I was wearing a red dress. I think I was with my girlfriends in some kind of a school party. I also think there were four girls including me and we had got us a hotel room to celebrate the event.

The same day I met this guy. I think he was the BF that killed me later. I was still a "good girl", but I definitely already knew him. I think we had already dated before or were having an "on-off -relationship".

Anyway he had been somewhere else for a while and I was very excited when he turned up. We were talking to each other and he was very kind to me. He said he hadn't been with any other women while he was away (even though he was allowed to) and I believed him.

He also told me about his money problems and I promised to get him something he couldn't afford himself. We ended up kissing and made a deal he would spend the night in our hotel room. I was so happy, because I truly fancied him and he had been so nice.

Then one or both of us had to go somewhere else, but we were supposed to meet later and spend the night together. Next thing in my dream was me and my friend in some shop later that day and we saw this guy again.

He was really drunk or high and acted completely differently - ignoring me. I immediately realized he wouldn't come to the hotel and I was _so_ disappointed I can't even begin to tell you. But I was trying to be brave and acted like I didn't care in front of my girlfriend.

That was the end of that dream. Oh, how much that boy caused me grief in that life, but I can still feel how much I fancied and loved him. He was African-American too. A bit older than me, but no more than 10 years - maybe only a couple.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread PL dream
Benedictine abbey of Tyniec

I don't have memories of being a monk, but I've been told I was once one. And I really like the sound of monks chanting.

I would be very skeptical about this information, but in one of my (PL) dreams I was in Krakow and I remember this particular scenery from that dream. Now when I travelled there I found out there is a Benedictine abbey of Tyniec right outside of Krakow that I think I saw in my dream (on a hillside). Unfortunately I didn't have time to visit that monastery.. :(

Of course it could be I just lived close to that and remember the scenery as an outsider, but I hope I'll find out someday.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Monk anyone?
Memories of past life parents

I don't have too many memories of my PL parents. Most PL memories I have are from adult lives and parents weren't playing that big a part then. But here's what I remember:

In my most recent PL in the U.S. I didn't have a good life, but I did have a wonderful momma. She made mistakes, but she was always there for me. My dad was a violent and abusive man but we left him when I was a child and after that I lived alone with momma. I don't have many clear memories of her, mostly warm feelings.

In a PL before that I spent my childhood in Europe (France perhaps) and my mama was very chic and active on the social scene. She wasn't very much there to play with me or anything, but I admired her and thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Both she and my more serious papa loved us children, but they were somewhat distant. We got to know each other better when I was a teenager/young woman and we travelled by boat to the U.S. moved there to live in a smaller flat. In Europe we had this huge house and my only clear memory from there is when my parents are once again off to a party or something and they are kissing me goodbye and leaving me with a nanny.

In a PL before that I have just one memory of my mother. I was already an adult man (in England). I was visiting my parents and I was in their living room with my mother and daughter. I just remember my mother sitting there looking very strict - and I felt she wasn't the most light-hearted woman, lol! More like a typical, Victorian prude. :D

I think my mama was very important to me in a PL before that in the Southern part of the U.S. but I don't have any clear and certain memories of her. I think I was a spoiled girl/young woman.

I remember a life before that as an orphan girl in Sweden. I'm not sure if I ever got to know my mamma, but I know she wasn't there at the time of my sad memories. :(


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Remembering Mother
Floating test

I had a life in Ireland in the 1600's, when I used to collect plants etc. from the forest and use them for different purposes. I think this was one of the reasons it was easy to claim I was a "witch"... :( I got killed when the men of our village drowned me testing whether I would float.

Scotland twice...

I believe I have lived in Scotland at least twice, but the first time was probably as early as in the (late) 1200's. The other time on the Orkney Islands was possibly in the 1400's, but I don't know a lot about this short life.

Some interesting knowledge

- I didn't know there were black people in high places in Ancient Egypt, and I also found out they were dressed like they did in my PL flash.

- In a PL dream I went to Krakow, Poland after my death and saw a scenery - a building on a high cliff. Much later when I was about to travel to Krakow, I saw the same scenery in a guide book - the building is a benedictine monastery.

- In another PL dream I was with a little girl that had a pendant with a large, green rock on her neck. In the dream I kept hearing the word "esmeralda" and later I found out it means emerald, which was an unknown word for me also in English (it's "smaragdi" in Finnish).

- The latest example is from Brooklyn where I saw a soap factory from my flat window in a PL related dream, and by googling I found out there really have been soap factories there.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Knowing things that you never knew
1600's England

I think I've actually had two lives in New England in the 1600's. At least one of them was spent in Maine, possibly in a town called Newcastle (or then I was originally from close to Newcastle, UK). I'm not sure if I sailed to or was born in New England in the other PL (as a woman), but of the other I have written down the following:

"I believe I was born in the northern part of England, on the country side - in my memory it is rainy and grey, but the grass is very green. I/my family had possibly sheep. As a young man I'm in love with a girl and plan a shared future with her, but later I become very obsessed with religion and decide to leave the girl and sail to the New World to start a new, better life. Once in America I build myself a house and live alone, and teach the Natives about Christianity = convert them."

Of the other life as a woman I don't have personal memories, but someone else has recognised me from there. :eek:


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Memories of England - 1600s
Missing my previous family

Some time ago I remembered a little of my mother from my Russian life at the turn of the 20th century. She was very sweet, and encouraged and supported us children in our hobbies and activities.

Yesterday during meditation I remembered new things of my mother in my most previous PL, but nothing really important. The warmest memory is of her, my grandmother and great-grandmother.

For the first years of my life (maybe 6 or so) we all lived close to each other and would spend a lot of time just the four of us.

Those moments were so important to me, we laughed a lot and the adults would also cry - lot of emotion and female bonding through four generations. :)

I loved to just sit at the table and listen to the three of them talk about their lives, bashing men etc. :laugh: It could be said that all of them raised me, and all of them were like mothers to me. I miss them all.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Remembering Mother
My experience with loss - part I

Like I said earlier, there are very many PL children I remember losing. .

In the 1950's I was a young, newly married woman living in New York. I was pregnant with twins and thrilled to be a mother. However, something went wrong, and the labour was very difficult. We weren't sure if either of our babies would survive, and what made it even worse was that the doctor told us I wouldn't be able to have any more children ever. We named the children Joshua and Jessica - Joshie and Jessie we called them.

Joshie had problems with his heart. He lived for little over a month, but never left the hospital. Jessie stayed in the hospital for two months, but in the end she was fine and grew up a lovely, healthy little girl. Losing Joshie was very difficult. We had hoped for a big family. There was enough time to grow to really love our precious son, but not enough to ever really get to know him. I could never throw away his tiny baby clothes - they were a way for me to keep him close.

Problems in our marriage made it all even more difficult. I guess I couldn't do anything but worry about the babies for the first weeks/months, and apparently my husband felt the need to go look for comfort somewhere else. When Joshie died - my husband wasn't with me, and I couldn't find him or reach him by the phone. He didn't know - I had to find him and tell him his son was dead. Finally I found him with my best friend - in bed at her place.

I didn't want to stay in New York. There were too many difficult memories about Joshie - and my friend was there. We had the same social circles and would inevitably meet her every now and then if we stayed. So we moved to Boston - I insisted. I forgave my husband, but could not forget, and I don't think we were ever really happy again. Jessie was everything for both of us, and I have to admit she was spoiled rotten. My husband was very active and had lots of friends, but my life focused pretty much around Jessie.

I actually had an affair myself later. I won't defend what I did, but I was very unhappy and lonely, and found someone who made me feel special. But when my husband found out, he took Jessie away from me. He took her to his sister in New Jersey and they wouldn't let me see her. I was heart-broken and in the end I could convince my husband the affair was over and he came back with Jessie. I couldn't live without her, no matter how much in love I was or hated the idea of getting back together with my husband. Fortunately he was always a very good father.

Will continue in part II.

This post and discussion is continued in the thread Moving through grief
My experience with loss - Part II

I couldn't keep Jessie for long either. When she was five, she was hit by a car and died. Ironically, I had only recently found out my husband was sleeping with my new best friend in Boston. I guess I was a little distracted because of that when I was walking Jessie home from school, and she let go of my hand, ran off the sidewalk on the road and was hit by the car. Ailish from this forum was Jessie.

I don't have to try and describe my emotions then, anyone would understand. She was taken to a hospital, but didn't survive. I still can't go to hospitals if I have loved-ones there as patients, but have no problem being a patient myself.

I couldn't let go of her. I saved the dress with her blood on it and would often look at it, feel it, smell it - it was comforting to me, however disgusting it sounds now. You could say I lost my mind a little. I had always been very peculiar about my looks and appearance, but after Jessie died I would just walk around without washing or dressing up properly. I spent a lot of time at her grave. I would lie on the grass next to it. Once they called my husband to come and take me home.

My husband had his way or grieving - he wasn't at home. I think it was difficult for him to see my devastation. I don't know if he blamed me for Jessie's death, but I thought then he did - and I surely did myself. I couldn't get over it, plus I knew Jessie hadn't crossed over. I could feel her, hear her calling me. I knew she was confused - she didn't realise she was dead and had no idea what had happened. I couldn't handle it, and in the end I killed myself calling her name - to go to her and take her to the light. I cut open my wrists in our bath tub. I have experienced it many times in a regression, but it's still not easy.

Just shortly: In the life following that one, I was a teenage mum, who did drugs. My daughter was taken away from me. It was very difficult then, but I know now it was the right decision. I was definitely not fit for motherhood then. I found out about this only recently. I have thought about the possibility my daughter would still be alive, actually close to my age... But it would be difficult, maybe impossible to find her, and I'm not sure I'd want to. For now, I'm still digesting the experience and thus won't write more about it.

Last I want to tell you that I have now a daughter, soon five months, and her Dad is the incarnation of that rotten husband I had in the 1950's. I hope we are doing things right this time. And having Aili in my life now as a dear friend is amazing! It was interesting that we started to remember this shared PL a little more than a year ago when I was trying to get pregnant. It was a very intense couple of months both Aili and I remembered bits and pieces of that life, and it started to fade when I found out I was having a baby.

I think Aili got it right, when she said we remembered it so I would know I had been a great mum and could let go of the traumas from that life before my daughter was born. Even though I still get emotional writing about Joshie and Jessie, remembering them has been a wonderful experience, and there are so many things connected to that - it would take me ages to go through all of them. There are a lot of good memories, too! The most important thing is that I have a beautiful daughter and a great partner now, and everything has went well so far - I had no problems giving birth and Stella has been healthy all along.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Moving through grief
Sephardi Jew in Spain in the 1400's

I have only recently discovered it's very likely I had a PL as a Sephardi Jew in Spain in the 1400's. It doesn't surprise me, though, as I've had several other Jewish and Spanish past lives.

I haven't explored a lot for the moment, but I think this life took place in the first half of the 1400's - I believe I died in the 1450's. My family lived in a city, but I'm not sure which one. I remember we spent a lot of time in the backyard of the house, which wasn't visible from the street. I was thrilled when I later found this describing the Medieval, Jewish Toledo:

Our houses may not look like much from the street, I know. There are few windows looking out, and few ornamentation to relieve the white-washed walls. But each conceals a secret gem: the central courtyard, decorated with flowers, vines, and fruit trees. There are often fountains dancing within pools, overlooked by a balcony that runs around the entire upper floor.
That sounds almost exactly like what I remembered!

In my memories I'm a a young woman, but I still live with my parents. It's possible my name was Consuela. I remember I had a younger sister, who was very beautiful and "fragile". I remember my mother and grandmother, who were very powerful, loud and laughed a lot. I loved them dearly, but I also remember being annoyed with them sometimes... I also remember my father. I think we were "New Christians", converted just for practical reasons (like staying alive..), but within our family and friends we were very much Jewish with our habits and traditions. I think my mother and grandmother were also at least somewhat religious, but I think my father was a free mason or something like that. He had some secret meetings, and I knew something about it all growing up.

I was trying to get validations by meditating on some topics Nathali gave me - about things she remembers about her then wife. I didn't remember the same things, but reading along the site Nathali shared, I remebered a lot of same elements used in protection and healing that are listed on that site. :thumbsup:

I also had a dream about this life a little while ago, but when I woke up I could only remember a couple of random things. One of them, however, was an expression, Nathali later confirmed as being a Sephardi phrase - "mázal bueno" meaning "good luck". :thumbsup:

First love in 1940's France

I remember my first love in France at the beginning of the 1940's. I was maybe 16 and he wasn't much older. I think he was a soldier, at least I remember him wearing a uniform. He was quite slender, not very tall, and had a long, big nose. His dark hair was sweeped back with something so that it looked a little wet always.

I have remembered just short flashes of us kissing (although I know he was my first in bed, too :eek: ), and I remember how devastated I was to leave him, when my family left to the US, because of the WWII and us being Jewish. I was a typical selfish teenager, and couldn't think about anything else but the intense feelings between the two of us. :laugh: Although when we (my family) had our first very threatening experience shortly before we left, I realised it really was about life and death, and accepted the leaving.

While we still lived in France, my aunt and my cousin - a girl around my age - lived with us for some time. We were good friends with my cousin, and she knew my boyfriend, too. She and her mother stayed in France, and I later heard she and my (ex-) boyfriend had got married. :( It wasn't like I grieved over this all my life, but it felt bad for a long time. *sigh*


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Memories of your first love
English male in the 1800's

I think my PL as an English male in the 1800's was heavily influenced by colonialism - as a child and later as an adult, too. I think my family were all colonialists. I have memories of Africa, but today I remembered something new.

As a child I spent some time in India. There was some relative living in there - I think an uncle, but he was pretty old, so possibly a grand uncle? We maybe visited him with my parents, but I have a feeling I was sent there alone or with my siblings for some time. I remember mostly the house and this uncle, who was a little odd or funny in the eyes of a young boy. There was also a beautiful garden.

An Indian man, who worked for my uncle was my idol. I think he was a Sikh. He wore a turban and a cool sabre on his belt. I think I became friends with his son and started imitating their Sikh ways, which later shocked my parents. :D

I saw myself wearing shorts and found it odd - but reading this thread maybe it wasn't so strange after all. :thumbsup:


This post and discussion is continued in the thread India - the time of the British take over
Sisters in 1500's Spain

I'll add one from my meditation last month. This is apparently from 1500's Spain:

"Our parents are hosting a big party. Me and my sister have to go to bed, and we are following our nanny to our bedroom through an aisle upstairs. We are wearing white nightgowns, I'm around 4 years old and my sister just a little bit older.

The nanny is carrying a candle and is hushing and trying to calm us down, as we giggle and tease each other being tired. She tucks us in, and says that our father will come to say goodnight. We sleep together with my sister in a big four poster bed. We are still giggling and tickling each other.

Our father comes in to kiss us goodnight. His beard is p r i c k l y and tickling. He says our step-mother would like to come, too. My sister thinks it's a good idea, but I'm a little cross with our step-mother for some reason, and say she's not allowed to come. She comes anyway and kisses my sister, but I'm sulking so she just strokes my hair before she and our father go back to the party.

We don't feel sleepy and whisper things to each other's ear. Our nanny is sitting on a chair in one corner of the room and does some knitting or the like.

In the end she falls asleep before we do, and we sneak out of the room to spy on the party guests behind the upstairs railing. Among the guests we see a young boy we know, and think it's really unfair he gets to stay there and be awake, when we have to go to bed.

I'm crossing my arms and announce that I'm going to go and complain about this to our father, but my sister stops me from doing it. It seems I'm going through a phase, when I'm often sulky and pouting, feeling everybody should act the way I'd want them to. :D "


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Everyday memories
Two mentors

In my latest PL I had first my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother to look up to. Three generations of wise women that had been through a lot. Later, when I had moved away from my granny and granna, and my momma had died, I was living with my uncle, who was still pretty young. I admired him, and he was giving me a lot of good advice on how to survive as a young woman without my parents. He had his own life and he was no angel, but he was always kind to me and did the best he could so that I wouldn't get into trouble. The conditions just weren't the best you could imagine.

Later he had to put me in a foster home as he couldn't offer me a home himself anymore. He visited me, but a little later he disappeared and I never found out what happened. A couple of years ago in this life I had a dream about him, and I thought he was my spirit guide as I didn't remember him from this PL yet. Well, maybe he is, who knows.

Another mentor I remember was a foster mother I lived with in Sweden about 100 years ago. I went to live with her when I was maybe 6-8 years old. She was a kind of hermit, and we lived alone on a small island. She gathered herbs for healing purposes and taught me a lot about them and other things, too. I loved her dearly, but she was considered weird by the rest of society. I was taken away from her when I was arround 10 years old and I never saw her again.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Past life mentors
Roman rite of passage

This morning I had a dream (or actually I was in that in-between state, almost asleep). I felt I was in ancient Rome. I was a boy or a young man, just about to reach adulthood - turning 18 or whatever the Roman equivalent was then.

I was excited, because it meant I could hold a speech in the Senate or some other institute for the first time. My father had something to do with it - either he had arranged the opportunity or then because he was the member of the Senate, I was to follow him or something like that.

I remember there were round marks on the ground before the Senate where people would go to speak, and I remember I had to wait for my turn as there were other, more important people that were to speak before me.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Seeking other Romans
Unfortunately I don't have many detailed memories of papa - for some reason - but I have a very good overall image of him. A wonderful man in many ways - I wonder where he is now. I'll attach something I wrote about him earlier:

Julia looks the same as in my earlier meditation, but then I thought she had blue eyes - now I think they're brown. And I think "just like both parents, although Mama was a blonde whereas Julia has light brown hair". Julia is a bit pale and has a pointy nose. I think both our parents have Russian heritage, but at least Papa has lived in Sweden all his life and our life is very much a mixture of both Russian and Swedish traditions and habits. I think Julia is a bit of a tomboy, whereas I'm more interested in Mama's painting and other things she likes. She paints often in the garden of our villa. Our family plays a lot of music, I think Mama plays both the piano and the guitar, and Papa perhaps the violin. Julia has a good voice and she can sing several old Russian songs. In the garden there are a couple of "stairs" leading from the front yard to the back yard so that the front yard is a bit higher up. I think the villa is by a lake that you can see from the back yard. I see myself and Julia as children, maybe 12 years old, sitting on the stairs between the yards. We have straw hats on and we play some game with coins we put in the sand on the stairs. Mama is somehow fragile, but at the same time dramatic. She gets bad head aches, especially when we are in town. She says in a dramatic way that in the country side she can BREATHE. Papa is smiling gently but amused. He is so much more stable than Mama - the artist and drama queen. He loves her very much, but finds her amusing at times. :)

This post and discussion is continued in the thread Remembering 'Father'
My first name was Kimille and I was born to a Hispanic man and an African-American woman in 1958 or so in the South of the US. We lived close to a small town, and it was not a wealthy neighbourhood, but people had your typical Southern houses that were white and had porches going around them. I think I was an only child and possibly an accident - at least my parents didn't seem to want to be together. I don't have many memories of my father, but he was a nasty man.

I was close to my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. The latter two lived together close to us, and we spent a lot of time at their house with my Momma. We also went to church regularly.

When I was maybe 6 years old, my Momma and I moved to Brooklyn, NYC. We went there without my father, and I believe we escaped him. My uncle - Momma's younger brother - lived there and helped us to settle. I was sad to leave Grandma and Granna, but life was good in Brooklyn. My mother was cleaning public buildings, I believe, and she had to work a lot so she was away often, and tired when she was at home, but we were still happy, and the wonderful neighbourhood community took care of me. We lived in South Brooklyn, and I think I even know the buildings we lived in.

However, my Momma died when I was around 10 years old and at first I lived with my uncle. Pretty soon he decided to move to California and said I couldn't live with him there. He took me to California, but I went to live with a foster family. I think I lived in at least two different families, and unfortunately they were not good experiences. I also remember living in a small group home, which was a good place, but I'm not sure when this was exactly.

During that time I got to know a family - a young mother with a couple of children. The mother was a junkie trying to stay clean, but she failed soon. I was still feeling more at home with them than with my foster family, so I was helping the mother taking care of the children and befriended her oldest daughter, who was maybe five years younger than me. Later the mother died because of an OD and I ran away with her daughter, because I didn't want her to end up in a foster family like me. We lived in a couple of places with the people the girl's mother had known. When the girl died in a fire, I was put in a bigger group home. I had already gotten to know alcohol and drugs, and I continued my wild ways there with my new friends. I wasn't a totally lost cause yet - I went to school etc., but I also got pregnant twice and my life was starting to become a real mess.

In the end, when I was 16 or 17 years old, I ran away with my boyfriend and it's not a pretty story. My boyfriend was also my pimp, as we both needed money for drugs. We lived in a dirty apartment with other junkies and I don't think I went out at all in the last months or so. I died when my boyfriend beat me up, but I was happy and relieved to go, and was able to forgive the boyfriend as soon as my soul left my body.

I have often felt sad and powerless when I remember Kimille's life, but I like to think about the good moments there were, too. Besides, the dying moment I experienced in a dream was actually beautiful and gives me comfort. I also remember to be grateful for having such a different life this time around.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread PL dream
My memories and feelings of my PL fathers are still very fleeting, but I thought I'd share this tiny journal note from January, 2006, when I was remembering a PL in Ireland in the 1600's:

I think as a child/young girl I lived with my father, who was quite old, blind and thus useless if we're talking about bringing bread on the table. He wasn't a kind man and drank a lot. My mother was dead. I don't know when it had happened, but by this flashback I was maybe about 14 or so. We lived in a town, but to get some money I went often to the forest to pick berries or something I then was selling on the streets/marketplace.
I think my father was still alive when I got married. I think he was paid to let me go - for him to survive those last years of his life.
Also, one of my earliest PL memories is of being a little girl, living on the Orkneys (Scotland). In the memory I'm standing at the sea shore, on some big rocks, waiting for my father to sail home. Suddenly a big wave comes and I fall down, drowning in the end. :(


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Remembering "Father"
The following was a brief flash in a meditation in March 2007, and it was pretty awful, as I could feel my PL-self panicking so strongly. It's from a Louisiana plantation towards the end of the 1700's:

I'm looking for something at our house, panicking. I realise it's my younger sister I should've been taking care of, but I wasn't careful enough and now she's missing. I have a feeling something bad happened - maybe she even died. Drowned or something, if there was a pond in our yard maybe. This could've been the reason why (I felt) Mama didn't love me, now that I think about it.
I was quite many years older than my sister and I was almost like another mother for her. We were close and I felt responsible of her, which obviously made the above even worse.

Then some snippets of my other Southern plantation PL, this time in South Carolina and right before Louisiana:

I was riding to the sea (?) shore on horses with my sister close to my age. Then it was evening and when I got inside our house to my left there was a living room of sorts where my father and brothers were reading and to my right there was a dining room where my sisters were sewing or something like that. In front of me were stairs going up. My mum was walking by with a candle in her hand - I think she had a baby at that time - and I asked her if I could read with the boys instead of sewing, but she just gave me a freezing look and walked away. I was frustrated and decided to go to bed already. I went upstairs to my room that I shared with at least one sister (the one I rode with) who slept in the same four poster bed with me.
I love my sisters to bits. They are the most important thing in my life. Four of us are sitting on our porch and it's warm (we are in our teens). We are chatting and giggling - we have so much fun! I call for Lottie (a slave girl) to bring us something cold to drink from the outdoor kitchen (there is a hole in the ground or something to keep drinks cool).
There is a young man called David I'm in love with, but he's engaged to my sister. I think the feeling is still mutual, because I see myself talking to my Mama, telling her we're in love and asking her if it would be possible they broke up the engagement and we would get married. Mama says "absolutely not" and I'm feeling devastated.
I was really physically fighting over this David guy with my sister. I think she had found out we were in love, and we were pushing each other, pulling hair etc. somewhere outside. I managed to get her on ground, sitting on her chest, and I said "Say you're sorry" or something like that. And she said "I will never say that." I just remember that feeling when I was "threatening" her and she was very stubborn and strong-minded even if I was "winning". She had dark hair and I think she was taller than I was. But I don't know which sister it was.
When Papa dies, we move to Charles Town. Mama can't take care of the plantation without a husband and our older brothers have already their own houses and families. We get a town house and some slaves come there with us - including Lottie. -- It seemed like a nice phase anyway - somehow very Jane Austen with a widow and daughters trying to get married, lol.
There are good and bad memories of siblings... Also in other lifetimes. But the majority are good ones and in this life I feel very lucky having two most wonderful sisters. :thumbsup:


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Remembering "siblings'
Karoliina's memories

I did a self-regression today with an open mind - and by that I mean there wasn't anything puzzling me and I wasn't expecting answers to any specific question. It seems I discovered a new past life as a result.

I'm not sure where or when it took place, but I'll list here things I got during the regression. I'll probably look more into this lifetime as time allows, but if other members want to help me with the exploration and validations, I'm happy to hear your suggestions and findings. :)

At the beginning I saw myself wearing a green, floaty dress, slippers and a headdress that had a round disk standing above my head. My hair was long and dark, my nose long, too. I felt the surroundings were dry and deserty even though I was in a lush garden. I got a name Miriam, Maryam, Mirja or something else like that. Could've also started with Myr-.

When I was trying to think of my location, I got Persia, then India... Middle East, I was also thinking about Egypt. Later I got Babylon and somehow connected this life to Judaism.

I saw a big palace with the huge garden I was in to start with. There were rectangular pools of water, and tiles of a yellowish colour. I got one childhood memory in which I was a toddler, walking barefooted on those warm tiles. I had recently learned how to walk. Just before I reached one of the pools, a woman grabbed me under my arms, and lifted me up laughing.

As an adult/young woman I think I was living in that palace surrounded mostly by other women and guards (?). There was a lot of dancing, singing and festivities going on regularly. Life was easy and a lot of fun. There were parties where people would dance around a fire, there were magicians doing tricks, and on normal days I and the other women would lie around on big pillows and cushions etc. eating delicious food on plates served to us.

When I thought about the delicacies we ate, I remembered things made with halva, dates and figs. I was also thinking about olive trees and jasmin in some form. I'm not sure if it was the flowers, scent or what, but jasmin was somehow significant.

Stars were somehow very important. I'm not sure if it was about science or religion, but I think we thought "everything" was in the stars.

I had a boy child, and it was a huge deal. I think the boy was called Arun or something like that, and I saw him as a newborn wrapped in an ornamented shawl/cape (?) that was blue or had a lot of blue ornaments. The baby's skin was also painted or decorated with jewels or something. It's possible he had a bindu on his forehead. There was a big celebration because of his birth, and we were carrying him in a parade.

For some reason I don't have a clear picture or my husband, but apparently he was someone important. Even though he was "there", I think my everyday life was spent with other women and my child. I remember lying on my bed with my son and it's late evening. It's just us in this room or ramada, I'm not sure if it's closed on all sides. At least there are window/s with no glass, just thin cloth that moves in the mellow wind. I know there are guards just outside.

I get an idea of exotic animals, like elephants and tigers, which would point to India.

If I think about the clothes we wore, I see floaty clothes of thin material, but I think even the women wore mostly outfits with baggy trousers rather than dresses. Lots of scarves that were used in dancing. Men had baggy trousers, too, and slippers with turned-up toes.

I see myself as an old woman, probably very close to my death, probably in that same room and bed. I'm very content, and ready to go. I'm talking to a young man and woman, I believe they are my grandchildren, and I'm very pround of them.

I'm not sure, but if I had to guess, I'd say I was from Babylon, possibly of Jewish descent, and my husband was Indian. Maybe the area we lived in was Persia. I'm not familiar with the history of those three, but I have an idea they have had business with each other at times. I was getting Persia strongly all the time, and it was mostly some things I experienced that made me think of India, too. And then came "Babylon" loud and clear, so I suspect it has something to do with all this as well.

I think I know why I remembered this lifetime now. I found out a week ago I'm expecting a baby boy, and even though I remember dozens of past lifetimes, this far I didn't have any memories of having a happy lifetime with a son I loved and who loved me, and in which we both would've lived to an old age and nothing tragic would have happened. With this memory from today I got this feeling of having had a very good relationship with my son, and us both living happily to the old age, loving each other and other family members. It felt like a very, very good life.


This post and discussion is continued in the thread Babylon/Persia/India?
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