Past Lives: Are they Real?
Most people forget life before birth and entering their mother’s womb. Birth is analogous to watching a movie and becoming identified with one of the characters. We become immersed in our own Hollywood drama. Physical embodiment and social conditioning cause us to believe that sensory perception is the only reality.
Unlike the vast majority, there is an invisible tribe in the world—people who have grown up with past life memories . . .
James: I have multiple past life memories. I wonder why they haven’t faded? I also have a birth mark on my neck where shrapnel tore away my neck and I died in the Korean War (verifying my memory).
John: I’m 54. As a child, I knew that I lived before and was forced to come back—”To learn.” I always knew death is total peace and understanding. Everything is OK. I can recall the first time hearing about reincarnation as a very young child. I was shocked that everyone didn’t know about it.
Bev: I was born with memories that made no sense throughout childhood.
I remembered being a warrior.
I dreamed that I was a Persian girl and woke up feeling stunned that I was a little girl in a white body. I thought, “This is weird! Why am I female and Anglo? I am used to being dark. I have always been dark, and so it makes no sense. Why am I in this life? I am so confused!”
Memories were brewing in my super conscious mind, nagging at me, poking at me. I can tell countless stories of lying in bed and feeling frustrated that I had no servants: “Don’t they know I am the queen? They are supposed to bring me what I want!”
I thought, “Why do I feel that way?” I was aggravated that nobody knew who I was. I was ticked-off.
And I did not know how to express it.
Cris: When my son Leon was born, I had the feeling I had known him before. Fast forward to when Leon was 3. He was playing with his blocks, looked up at me, laughed, and said, “Remember when I was your dad?”
He giggled and winked at me (toddlers don’t typically wink). He never said another word about it.
Leon is 18 now and hasn’t memories of this and thinks I’m crazy.
Angela: When my son was just under 3, he began speaking about a past life where he might have had a sister. When only a few words into his memory, he began to speak as if he were nearer 4 or 5 years old and sounded upset and anxious saying, “Papa, Papa coming down the stairs” and at that point he seemed near tears.
I brought a close to the memory by reassuring him, “You are okay now. That is over and you are with me now and safe.”
He immediately relaxed and went back to speaking as he normally did.
A few days later I asked him a question about “Papa Papa” and he had no recollection, so I knew he has been able to move on. I am so glad Leon was able to let go of that so it wouldn’t haunt him later.
Renee: When my 17-year-old grandson was 2 and 3, he absolutely loved the Dixie Chicks song “Traveling Soldier.” He would sit quietly (which was highly unusual) in his car seat and beg to hear it over and over. After the umpteenth time of hearing it, I asked him what he liked about the song so much.
He answered, “I was there!” Blew me away.
Over the years, I’ve remembered this as I’ve watched him grow into a young man. He has a different mind set than most of his peers, and always has. He is fascinated with weapons and hunting, but absolutely hates anything resembling the military. He’s a dead-eye shot, but prefers targets, especially if he can beat his family or friends in a competition.
I grew up an Air Force brat, and my father was a trainer for fighter pilots after leaving the astronaut training program. He was career military, just short of making the rank of major when he resigned suddenly. Our house was often full of his students. Young men who went to fly the bombing missions in Viet Nam and who did not come back. I remember some of them still.
Years later when I was 30 years old, Dad admitted that he resigned his commission in protest of the Viet Nam war. He said, “I was ready to fight and die to protect my country. But I didn’t see how bombing rice paddies 10,000 miles away does that.”
I wonder now if my grandson is one of those lost pilots who became so close with our family before ‘Nam’.