Christmas again.

Wow... it is over a year and a half since I started to write this blog. And the Festive Season has come again, bringing all those old feelings of sadness and depression. These days are also being weird, but completely different than last year.

During the two last weeks I have come to feel exhausted, mentally exhausted. The life of a reincarnationist like me is quite tough as I was saying in my previous entries. I have been talking about suicide, discussing my theory on time and simultaneous lives with other people, answering questions of newbies almost every day, writing privately to those who didn’t find honesty elsewhere, arguing with people who put more value on old channeled information and NDE’s than people with verified past life memories... and finally, realizing all this stress is not doing any good to my mental health. The migraines started to be more frequent and intense, and I had to take a break.

While I am working so hard reading and writing, I forget about emotions simmering in my inside. I am beginning to think it is no more than a way to block past life mood. Katrina’s past life plays an important part in those emotions, as much as present life events that frustrate me and anger me. I hardly can quiet my mind, and when I do I don’t get clear memories, just a whirlwind of flashes and dark feelings that take me back to WWII. I can see myself as Katrina looking at the mirror, face so pale and young, and eyes so big but so lifeless. Hearing people pondering whether it was suicide or not feels kind of weird... as if I didn’t know what I was feeling and the intentions I had in mind. And then trying to convince someone that the notion of living lives simultaneously, implying you can change your past at any moment and so change your present, is preposterous, to say the least, just leaves me even more depressed and saddened. I should have learned by now that you can only talk about past lives with people who remember past lives. At least I am lucky enough to find also gentle and caring people who turn up just to say “Hey, I understand you”, help with the research and bring some calm to my restless soul.  

Last night I was trying to meditate and I was feeling like so many times before: past life emotions become so present. I can feel Katrina at the bottom of this dark pit, where she had fallen and couldn’t get out. And God knows I tried. I tried to climb, I called for help, I looked up at that bright little white circle at the top, getting ever smaller as my desperation grew, reaching for salvation, but no one came. And I couldn’t get out. All the fighting was useless, and that is what keeps affecting me today, what causes the anxiety and the lingering (though controlled) thoughts of self-destruction.

As I usually do with my other past life selves, I asked her what she wanted, what she needed, why her pain is so alive today, 73 years later. As always, I knew I just wanted a place to mourn... not for me, but for Johann. I didn’t have the time to do it. I don’t know where he was taken. I only can see his corpse wrapped in one of those filthy sacks or wherever they put the corpses. I wish I could have cried my eyes out as I was standing in front of the stretcher, after asking permission to do so, but there were people close, watching even then. It still feels so unreal. It seems I just can’t move on from that point. I recalled other past lives where I lost many of my loved ones: tombs where my wife and babe were buried, rag dolls I made with my own hands to remember my relatives, peaceful but unwanted partings... All were quite painful too, but they don’t bother me so much now, maybe because I could mourn for the people I had lost? I couldn’t do it properly in the case of Johann, I didn’t live long enough. Is that the reason my main desire is to find Johann’s grave, not mine? What would you want to do, Katrina?

And the answer always is: to say goodbye. Just that. And until the day I can do it, the stages of mourning will haunt me endlessly: denial, anger, bargaining, depression... and all over again. 

Related entries:

Christmas time.

   

Beliefs and facts (again).

Curiously, I was speaking about this in my Spanish blog just a few days ago. Not anything directly related to beliefs and facts, but I was saying the life of a hardcore reincarnationist like me is tough... quite tough. One of the reasons is you have to spend 99% of your time fighting against people with ridiculous beliefs. People who don’t remember past lives, have only fragments of a few past lives, haven’t researched reincarnation in deep, but want to convince everyone that you will suffer endless torture in dark places, surrounded by creatures that will feed of your energy during death and beyond, if you do something evil like... let’s say, committing suicide. This, in case someone doesn’t know, is comparable to being a murderer. So, yes, once more, imagining someone like Hitler having a wonderful life this time around, faraway from any kind of suffering, without being whipped or chained in a dark hole, or eaten by astral monsters, is just impossible for their little minds. Go figure.

The worst of it all is that they will ignore, misinterpret (with conscience), adapt, twist and even change what they read just to keep believing what they want to believe about the matter. Yes, this could be the following chapter to my two latest entries (one and two) where I talked about suicide. As everyone was expecting, the original poster insisted on his question, as he hadn’t received a proper answer before the thread was deleted. This second thread was full of nonsense, but for some strange reason this one hasn’t been deleted (so far). I replied again, not because I wasn’t bored of it all, but because I think people has the right to know... and also, because other people were trying to derail the thread, leaving the question unanswered again, or even worse, answering with personal beliefs and not facts. I just can’t take it.

Some reincarnation books were mentioned. I read those books decades ago, so I usually talk from memory. But then I searched in those books, and also did a quick research on the internet. I just couldn’t believe my eyes: everything is clear there. People who tried to commit suicide and lived an NDE say more or less the same thing than people who did commit suicide in a past life, were regressed and taken to the period between lives by Dr. Michael Newton: there’s not any kind of punishment on the other side. Suicide is not the best of choices, but love and compassion are there for you anyway. You are not forced to reincarnate quickly if you don’t want. Rather, you go to a place where you can be alone and reflect about what you did, and then, when you feel ready, you return to physical life. This is not a dark, damp, prison-like place somewhere in the spiritual world. It can be a bright, green, nice place, not different than any other place in “Heaven”, though quite dull and silent. There are no "critters” anywhere, torturing your soul or feeding on your bad energies, as someone else said. Almost everyone who knows a bit of this type of creatures (and I know a few), knows they are in the astral realm... and some of them even know how to handle them. Saying they follow you to your next life to keep feeding on the bad energies of evil people or suicide victims is one of the greatest nonsensical claims I have ever heard in all my years researching reincarnation (and believe me, I’ve heard many of them). 

The problem usually comes when someone who has experiences in “the spiritual realms” mixes those with their religious beliefs. I’ve seen it so many times, I’m quite tired of it. Not in vain most religions have been founded after an “enlightened guy” who could see astral entities and what have you started to claim he knew exactly what they were and what they were doing. If there are “spiritual guides” giving messages, it gets even worse, as everyone believes that they must be right if they are disincarnate. It’s almost as if you’re talking straight to God. And as you were “chosen” to be the recipient of those messages, you must be “divine” too. And this happens over and over and over again in the history of humanity... Everyone chooses what they want to believe, listens to the one they choose to believe, takes whatever facts they like and ignore the other two hundred different accounts, quotes the Bible because everyone knows everything there is true and well-thought, and everyone happy!   

Of course, I have my own beliefs. But mine are always changing and they are always constructed by everyone’s experiences, not just mine. I try not to interpret things. Facts are facts. People interpret all the time, so when you read something you always have to separate beliefs from facts. And if you achieve this, you find the Truth is really so simple, unique and singular. Unfortunately, many people still think they can manipulate the Truth and treat other human beings as if they are kids growing up. They still think they can control them through fear, lies and partial truths. They think that they can deceive a child that is looking for answers. They think they will make this child do what they want him to do, when most likely this child will know they are lying and despise their advice. They will lose his trust, he will keep looking for convincing answers elsewhere, and make his own choices anyway. Wrong or right, it doesn’t matter, we are here for that, to live and learn (if we want). It is so ironic: this is one of the most accepted views within the reincarnation world (that we are here to learn), but it seems some people haven’t got it yet. I wonder how many of them think they are old and wise, without realizing they are the kids instead, still clinging to stupid little childhood tales they just can’t forget. 

By the way, all this reminded me of just another of my struggles regarding the astral, "demonic entities" and sleep paralysis. Incredibly, many people still believe sleep paralysis is caused by beings like the one shown in the picture. The other day I read a quote from one of my favorite authors: "Graveyards are the maximum expression of our ignorance". In this case, we could say something similar: "Astral monsters are the maximum expression of our blindness". Most of the times those monsters are created by our thoughts and negative emotions, yes. Believing we can be controlled by them to the point of committing suicide or killing someone because they were whispering in our ears is blaming someone else for our misdeeds. The day we understand WE ALL ARE RESPONSIBLE OF OUR DECISIONS, maybe we will get rid of all those "monsters". The problem is in our minds, nowhere else. Now try to explain this out of here. I won't be doing it again, as then I do feel like killing myself... and never come back.   

Related entry:

Beliefs and facts.

UPDATE 7-DEC-15

Surprise, surprise. The second thread about suicide was also deleted. I don't know what happened after my post saying nothing happens when you commit suicide. I also put some links to interesting NDE accounts where people who attempted suicide describe how they reached a "heavenly place" and were halted by spiritual beings saying it wasn't their time and they must come back to go on with their lives. This is no different from any other NDE, but for some reason it scares the forum admins. I am so happy to have my own place to talk freely (a few of them really). As it may interest readers, this is just one of those links. There are hundreds of similar accounts. I also clarified what Michael Newton says in his books: he talks of "isolation places" for people who killed themselves. They are not dark places where you are chained and whipped for all eternity, like I said above. They are just normal places but you will be alone for a while, reflecting about what you did, until you understand you lost some good opportunities to grow (if this applies, of course).

And, just as I was saying about treating people as kids, now I have a private message from the OP saying he would like to talk to me. I bet he could perfectly discern who was being honest here and who was trying to deceive him with silly lies. He even tried to start a new thread which of course was also quickly deleted. What a waste of time. 

More on suicide...

It seems I just can’t stop now that I have started. I think it’s because I feel there are many things that need to be said. I can’t remain silent.

This morning I posted this (with some minor modifications) in one of the forums I frequent:

The recent deleted conversation about suicide in the forum Child Past Lives, and most likely, the time of the year, seem to have triggered some memories/feelings in me related to my last days on Earth during my WWII life.

I barely remember what I have written before in regards to the cause of my suicide, but I think the answers are always the same: I had lost everything, I was utterly alone and I didn't want to live anymore. Is that so hard to understand?

First of all, was it a suicide or not? I've always wondered about this question myself, to be honest, and I've always come to the conclusion it was, no matter who pulled the trigger. Like I told one of the forum members in response to his comment, I'd call it "assisted suicide", but a suicide nonetheless, only the soldier didn't know he was doing me a favor. But no, I know what I did. As someone else said, intent matters... yes, of course it matters.

I also wonder about the resistance and the fear people in general have to talk about suicide. I've observed this fear is more common among people who don't have clear and verified memories of past lives and what happens after death. I guess the reason is they are still afraid of death, and so they are still afraid of living and letting everyone make their choices. Right or wrong, you just can't learn if you don't act. And we all are responsible of our actions and decisions, and of course of the consequences. Death is bad... yes, especially for those staying alive. For dead people, it's just rest and peace. But for some reason they all want us to keep suffering in the afterlife, being judged by "the Elders" or thrown to the darkest pits of the astral (commonly known as Hell).

Well, it seems there are many reasons to commit suicide. I don't know of others, but I think my suicide would fit in the category of "act of rebellion". My WWII life was mainly a life where I couldn't control anything. My mum didn't give a damn about me or my feelings. When my grandparents died she sent me to work as a maid and live with that German man (possibly my father who cared even less about me). Yesterday, when I had memories of being awake in the dark, unable to sleep, thinking where I'd like to go back, the only place that came to mind was my uncle's home. There I had some cousins and was really a home. But I couldn't find out what had become of them after the German occupation. Possibly I hadn't had news of them for years, so I had no place to go back. Anyway, I couldn't go back. I was alone in France with the German Army. My only option was to keep working as a nurse until win or lose.

I was sinking deeper and deeper in my depression, that's sure. Though this keeps being a hunch, I'm pretty sure I died around this time of the year, one of the reasons being Christmas was approaching and I didn't want to spend Christmas without my German boyfriend. But apart from that there was this rage inside me, this desire to stop doing what "they" wanted of me. I wrote this in my journal yesterday, right after the meditation:

"In that life, suicide was the only thing in which I had some power of decision, it seems. This is shit, I don't want to live this. I don't want to fight in this crappy war, I don't want you to decide for me what I have to do with my life. I don't want to meet the only man who showed some interest in me and lose him. Go everyone to Hell".

I think that "everyone" includes living people and also spiritual guides or whoever sent me to live that life.

And so, I quit.

I've stopped wondering what would have happened if I hadn't quit. People are quick to say other people there are always better options, as if they know the future. You see, I quit and probably spared myself lots of suffering. Though it's great to imagine myself as a lovely war veteran lady, it's likely I would have ended up raped by allied soldiers after D-Day and then killed or imprisoned. And then I was reborn as a German boy who loved to play with wooden airplanes. So, was it a right or wrong decision?

Thoughts keep coming. After a tough night (a real bitter watch, until I got asleep), I was surprised when my current partner arrived and told me I looked happy. Maybe a weight is being lifted after all, with all this past life work I’ve done in the last few years. I’ve never felt especially guilty for committing suicide in my WWII life, though I did wonder for a while how I could have done “something like that”. But I soon realized it’s not a crime, a sin, or anything that must be punished. It just happens. Sometimes you decide to do things you are not proud of, that can lead to a variety of consequences. Suicide is one of these things. But it’s not better or worse than other choices, because, every reincarnationist should know, death doesn’t exist. Death is not bad in itself. So, if I decide to kill myself, I’m not going against “any law” or whatever you want to invent to make me feel guilty. It’s my life. It was my choice to come. It’s my choice to leave. That’s all.

After that thread was deleted there was some talking about the convenience of saying publicly things like these I write in my blog. Couldn’t we be influencing another person’s decision and incline them towards suicide, in case they’re on the verge of doing it and we tell them nothing happens? Instead of this, I was thinking of those parents and relatives who unfortunately have a suicide victim in their family and are marked forever, as the rest of society think that’s a disgrace and the victim a sinner. The dead is dead, I doubt anything can affect them any longer. Those who still live not only have to endure the pain of the loss of a loved one in those circumstances, but also the ignorance of the people who judge.  

I speak mainly for them. For the living. I have no fear of speaking the Truth.

REST PEACEFULLY, BECAUSE A SUICIDE IS JUST A NORMAL DEATH.

NOTHING HAPPENS TO PEOPLE WHO COMMIT SUICIDE.

THERE WILL BE UNRESOLVED ISSUES, BUT THAT IS COMMON IN ALL TRAUMATIC DEATHS.

I can say it louder, but not clearer.

"Nothing happens" also means "nothing will change". Your issues won't disappear killing yourself.

And no, I don't encourage anyone to commit suicide. If you're thinking about it, SEEK HELP. Probably you will be luckier than me and will find it.

What happens to people who commit suicide?

[I rarely do this, to translate almost literally something I wrote for my Spanish blog, but I think the occasion deserves this treatment. Suicide is a matter that concerns everyone, and from what I have seen, only in a few places (the main one being Military Past Lives) you can talk about it without wasting your time and effort.

Original entry: ¿Qué pasa con los suicidas?]

A recent conversation in another forum (Child Past Lives) about suicide has made me reflect about this subject again, though I also suspect it’s a time of anniversaries and so this triggers certain inner feelings of rage and sadness I can’t avoid. On the other hand, the truth is I’m feeling a bit frustrated again. Besides my own publications and the book I have written (which is more than a little), I not only don’t see any serious advancement in regards to reincarnation (with the exception of some new forum members who do advance, a lot, at a personal level, which makes me proud and glad at the same time), I even notice a bit of a setback. Or at least that’s the impression I get when I watch certain lectures in certain “spiritual” conventions attended by people that are still very lost.

But, well, I’d better go back to my writing, and today it’s about suicide. I don’t know why this subject is so controversial, even among reincarnationists themselves. Well, I do know: because most of the time reincarnationists also base on their own beliefs instead of first-person experiences. Not all of those who remember past lives remember they committed suicide, and so it seems they treat us, “ex-suicide victims” or those who for some reason wonder about suicide, the same way they treat other people whom they consider they have to commiserate, like all of those who have been “very, very evil”, and then they wish you don’t suffer too much in this life, as undoubtedly they believe you’re going to suffer a lot as a consequence of having been very evil... In that conversation I mentioned above, someone said suicide could be a form of self-punishment for taking someone else’s life and they invited us to guess why Judas Iscariot committed suicide. I almost faint due to the nonsense of these words, thank goodness there are few things that surprise me at this point.

There is also another reason why in general talking about suicide is avoided, besides the fact that rummaging in the wound of those who lost the suicide victim implies to stir a very deep pain and nobody wants to do that. That reason is that if you say nothing happens when you kill yourself, it seems you’re promoting or glorifying suicide, and you’re encouraging everyone to do it. Well, I want to make myself clear I don’t promote or glorify suicide, nor do I encourage anyone to do it. Had I not done it in the past, perhaps I would have known facets of myself that remain hidden nowadays. Or perhaps I would have become a lovely old woman and today I would be telling my great-grandchildren what living through the Second World War meant. Possibly I could have made better decisions... or maybe not. We will never know that, as once we make a decision, we can’t go back and we have to bear the consequences (and, no, this does NOT mean karma exists). So, if I don’t know what would have become of me in my case, how could I know in the case of other people? The circumstances surrounding a suicide are always very different and no one has the right to judge. The important thing here is, whatever you do, it is your decision. You are responsible, and you will realize for yourself if what you did was right, cowardice, a desperate call for attention, a stupidity for abusing drugs or a direct consequence of the depression you were going through.

Anyway, I’m going to say it loud and clear, as is my style:

FOR COMMITTING SUICIDE NOTHING HAPPENS. 

ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

This is to say:

No one is going to punish you in the afterlife.

You’re not going to Hell.

You’re not going to be forced to wander in the astral until all the time you had determined to live before incarnating has passed. (This doesn’t mean you’re not going to be a bit confused, in some cases, but this also happens to those who die by natural causes).

You’re not going to “repeat stories” until you learn whatever you came here to learn.

You don’t “break contracts” with anyone, among other things, because I doubt very much there are “binding contracts” in the spiritual world, though many want to sell us so many “soul plans”, “soul contracts” and many other unproved tales. Just an example: someone in that conversation said that in Robert Schwartz’s book Your Soul’s Plan it is said the actions of a person can influence the DNA and be passed down to their offspring. Fortunately this person doubted this was true, as anyone with a minimal knowledge of genetics (and especially if they remember past lives) knows that claiming this is a barbarity, even taking epigenetics into account, something that is starting to be mentioned quite frequently, but only a few really know how it works. Another person said, mainly based on the Michael Newton’s books he had read, that “the soul who committed suicide merely jumps back into another, similar life as soon as possible if not immediately”.  

Well, this is not what happened to me. I remember many lives very close together, but it has nothing to do with the manner in which I died. And after committing suicide in WWII, I reincarnated in West Germany, where I had a quite well-to-do life in which I was an industrial engineer and then I worked for the American Army. It wasn’t a similar life, in any way, to my former life. But I am not an exception. I also know many other people who also committed suicide in past lives, and you know what? None of them has had to repeat stories, nor have they been lost in the astral, nor do they know anything about contracts they made with other souls. Furthermore, currently they all are as happy as a lark. Even if there was something planned, we all have free will. If we wish, we ignore the plan, and that’s all. You can say this is not too considerate or sportsmanlike, that’s true, but if that’s our decision, nothing happens. The others will have to adapt to the changes and improvise. But no one said you will have to pay a price for coming back home before it was due, whatever the reason might be.

Now, will your loved ones suffer? Of course they will. The same way they would suffer if you had died for any other reason. So you will have to evaluate if making your loved ones suffer is worth. But in each case we would have to see who is more selfish, the one leaving because they don’t want to live anymore, or the one that forces someone who is suffering to stay because they don’t want to suffer. Are you going to resolve your problems killing yourself? Of course not. That is not a way to solve anything, it’s as if you quit an exam or leave your team in the middle of a match. You won’t feel great after killing yourself either, that’s true, especially if you killed yourself because you were suffering. Unresolved emotions will accompany you in the next life, and you will have to keep dealing with them. But that doesn’t happen only with suicide, it also happens with many other decisions you made that didn’t turn out as you expected. Sometimes we make mistakes and repent, but luckily we always have new opportunities to act accordingly to the way we consider more correct. Yes, things sometimes are complicated. But no one said living was going to be easy, didn’t they?

I was going to put the link to the thread I was speaking of, but I’ve just discovered it was deleted, so you see I was right when I said this is a controversial subject, and this when it was being very civilized and interesting. I can assure you that doesn’t happen in my own forum, where I like to go to the bottom of things and speak with rotundity.

More information:

Suicide (The Great Escape).

ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY (18-11-2015).

The truth is it’s very hard for me to understand why people find it so difficult to speak openly about such serious and important matters as this. I’ve been very disappointed this thread was deleted, many interesting things were being said and I didn’t feel it was going to turn problematic in any moment. However, I keep seeing it in the lectures I mentioned above. You go to a convention where they talk about life after death (in Spain) and the lecturer refuses to talk about reincarnation or suicide (some for fear of the Church’s reaction, at this point). It’s logical if you know nothing about it, but some reincarnationists do know, no matter who may disagree. It is not a belief, I’m not speaking of spiritualist doctrines that are no more than a religion. We’re speaking of experiences and facts, sometimes even with verified memories, and of very well known people of whom I can say anything out of respect for their anonymity. How much longer will silence prevail? How much longer this secrecy? How much longer the confusion and the eternal doubts? When will we become really free?

Is this blog useful?

Pandora's Box: my experience.

Pandora's Box is not a book for all audiences, I warn you of this right now. Pandora's Box is especially dedicated to all those people who want to know the Truth and are aware they only can find it within them. In this book you will find some of my experiences and one or two personal opinions, but as opposed to what many other authors do, I am honest and I tell you the only thing I know is that I have lived before. Reincarnation, as for today, is a mystery. No one knows how it works, no matter what they say. There is something of which I am completely certain though: there are many people who remember past lives, and no, this is not an illusion of our mind, an entanglement of consciousness or memories transmitted through our genetic code. Besides, everyone can do it.

And most importantly, I don't want you to believe me.

I want you to experience it yourself.

If you want to know whether this book is for you, answer the next questions:

• Are you looking for a master to give you all the answers?
• Someone to give you spiritual advice to make you feel you better?
• A guru who can see your past lives and speak of karmic debts you must pay?
• Do you love to theorize about reincarnation and debate for eternity but you are not interested either in remembering or knowing what people who remember think and feel?
• Do you want to know how to identify your twin soul?
• Do you think it is a waste of time to verify your memories, as you don't even want to know if reincarnation is a reality?

If you answered yes to most of these questions, don't read my book. In it there are neither fantasies nor spiritual teachings more typical of religions.

Reincarnation is a fact. The beliefs that usually go along with it, are not.

So, I tell you what I have experienced myself and the conclusions I have drawn. I give you some advice, but I am not going to preach about the need to forgive your neighbor or evolve spiritually, as no one knows if this is really so. No one knows why we reincarnate, nor do we know why we remember, we simply do.

• Do you have a rational mind and are you interested in knowing more about reincarnation from common sense?
• Do you think for yourself?
• Do you think it is tiresome that no one takes reincarnation seriously, or some even mock people who believe in it?
• You don't understand what they mean with "spirituality"?
• Are you tired to be invited to absurd lectures where they speak of how wonderful regressions are but you never hear anything new?
• Do you want to remember past lives or find out how to deal with the memories you already have?
• Would you like to find people like you, who really knows what remembering past lives means?
• Are you searching for practical and down-to-earth advice?
• Do you think that researching historically your possible memories is essential?

If you have answered yes now, then read my book. You will finally find what you are looking for. You will feel identified. You will stop feeling alone.

La Caja de Pandora y Pandora's Box.

There is a different way to approach reincarnation. 

Not all of us who remember past lives are Brian Weiss' fans, have a crystal ball or recommend everyone to watch the movie Our home (Nosso Lar). Some of us have a scientific mind and we don't believe in anything.

For more information, click in the page Pandora's Box. Remember you also have a Spanish version.

You can purchase my book in Amazon. It is available in both paperback and ebook formats. 

 

Amazon España:

La Caja de Pandora.
Pandora's Box.

Amazon:

La Caja de Pandora.
Pandora's Box.

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Don't keep quiet.

Few things upset me more than seeing a mistreated woman denying the facts or rejecting the help of other people. (Curiously, I always like to remind people men can also be victims, not only women, but that's a different story). The other day I was watching this TV show where Spanish policemen are in action, and they attended a case of this type. There was a female social worker with them, trying to convince the victim to tell them what had happened. She had called the police and she had been beaten, but now she was saying her husband wasn't home and everything was fine. They knew she was lying, but they couldn't enter the house without her permission, and of course nothing can be done if she doesn't want to report the mistreatment.

I was sitting there in the sofa, getting emotional, wishing that the woman talked, knowing I would have given anything for having that kind of help back then. Thinking: "You don't know how damn lucky you are having those police officers at your door. Talk!" Just a word and you can be out of that nightmare... not like things were for me.

Well, last Sunday we had a similar "show", but this time live, at our next door. We heard our neighbors (who happen to be British) were having an argument. That's not unusual, but this time it was being stronger. There was a slam of the front door, her daughter was crying, the wife shouting he was an adult and he shouldn't be behaving like that. It looked like he had kicked them out. Some time later my boyfriend said the police was in our landing, talking to our neighbors. The woman must have called them, her husband didn't deny he had taken her by the throat and the hair, and we heard a police officer saying she had some bruisings and she had been hit in the head. An ambulance was called too. They finally arrested the man, who was trying to explain he is desperate, as he's an English teacher but he can't find a job here. He had to go with them in a car police (thankfully they didn't use handcuffs). Next morning I saw she took a taxi and left with a few suitcases.

All this has made me realize how common this kind of violence is still today, and how easily ignored. It has also reminded me of my own aunt, my dad's youngest sister, and it makes me wonder about how our memory works when we are kids. I was quite young then, maybe 7 or 8. She was the only family from my dad's side living in Madrid, and she had two main issues: being sterile and being married with an abuser husband. When she had problems with him, she could only resort to my dad (and of course my mum). I only have blurred memories, but somehow I know it was something that "resonated" with me, it's one of those instants in childhood when something catches your attention but you don't have a clue why. I remember I liked my aunt's husband. Uncle C was good-looking and always smelled nice. So, hearing my parents on the phone, or maybe discussing in the car while my brothers and I were in the rear sits, talking about what my aunt had said, how "he had dragged her along the hallway pulling her by the hair" sounded quite unreal. And it was scary. As far as I know, they didn't get separated, and she loved him... though the tears and the circles under her eyes told a different thing (and also her own words months later, though I always knew through my parents).

One day he died in a car crash. He was alone. I remember my aunt cried for him. I want to think deep inside she was as relieved as anyone else in the family (though of course you couldn't say that aloud). Luckily, she moved to the south with the rest of her siblings and she eventually found a new man, this time a good one.

It's sad I barely see her now. Anyway, I doubt she would want to talk about all that. But I wish so much I could sit with her and tell her: "You know, I understand you now, I perfectly know what you went through, I know how it feels, how alone and impotent you can feel".

The greatest thing of all is she's always been the merriest woman in all the family, before and after those events. And the most supportive for all of them. She always was my favorite aunt. She must be such a great soul.

Everything is fine.

When memories become too tough and I feel like I can’t bear it anymore, I often get a message from my guide telling me not to worry, everything is fine. Usually it comes with a sense of infinite love and peace in my heart that brings back all the serenity bad emotions threatened to break. It’s like a storm that finally comes to an end.

Earlier today, while I was reading an exceptional NDE account, I was reminded of this undisputable truth, though I can understand it’s not easy to believe for most people. We just don’t understand the purpose of so much suffering in this world. All the people dying, the lack of wisdom and harmony, the infinite cruelty of human beings, disgraces, natural disasters, children starving... everyone asking “If there is a God, where is He? How can He allow this to happen?”

But in the middle of the turmoil, in the middle of my tears, when I’m sobbing uncontrollably due to events from a distant past that still affect me, I always hear my guide’s voice: 

“It’s all right, hush! Enough crying. Everything’s fine!”

We are made to feel emotions, but we are not our emotions. There was something I read in that NDE account to which I can relate so much: when you are out of your body you feel a complete detachment. You can feel a bit sad, but surprisingly you don’t feel anything for your own body, you don’t care too much about the ones you are leaving behind. Somehow you know death is not the end and everything is fine. We are so much more than flesh and bones, we are so much more than someone physical bound to become dust again. Does it matter if you live more or less years in a mortal body, when your soul is immortal?

Well, I was wondering why Johann’s death affects me so much today, now that I know we’re immortal, now that I’ve come to the conclusion reincarnation is a fact and we all have lived many times and we’ll live a lot more. My guide replied to me: “That’s what YOU know, but Katrina didn’t. Katrina lost all she had. She didn’t deal with her feelings back then, and so you must deal with them now”.

And the crying goes on. It will as long as there’s pain inside of me. And anger. And desires to shout. What happens when you block a torrent with a dam, when you cut a life short before the feelings were worked through? You die and get rid of your emotions when you shed your astral body. Death is like a soothing ointment. It relieves the pain, it brings oblivion, peace... for a while. Maybe death is like a drug. But as soon as you have a new body, the energy nets that weren’t totally repaired rekindle those past emotions, and life goes on... Is there a reason for this, or is it just how it works? My position is clear. It’s just a natural process.

And whatever happens, everything is fine. After all, we are love. We are. For eternity.

IN MEMORY OF THE MARTYRS

Life is like a tall ship

Drifting gently from the shore

Time is like a fair wind

With a lifetime to explore

The beauty that surrounds you

Was meant to be adored

The problems that surround you

Were meant to be ignored

We are love, we are, we are love

We are love, we are, we are love

I dreamt I held a baby

I dreamt I held a child

I dreamt I held a young man

A prisoner in my hand

My hand I could not open

The man grew up inside

A prisoner without reason

Just on the other side

We are love, we are, we are love

We are love, we are, we are love

The blood red rose of summer

Grows elegant and tall

In memory of the green grass

Beyond the guardian wall

The green grass grows forever

Beneath the bloody sky

In memory of the martyrs

She'll cover when they die

We are love, we are, we are love

We are love, we are, we are love

August again...

I wish I could do something to prevent this from happening. I wish I could control it somehow. But it seems I just can’t. I didn’t start this month feeling too well, but it wasn’t too bad either. WWII was far from my mind. I should already know that you can’t forget your past lives. When everything seems peaceful and is going smoothly, they strike again.

It was quite unexpected. I was dozing off on the sofa, tired after a weekend with lack of sleep and loud music until 3 a.m., four nights in a row, due to local celebrations. Suddenly, I noticed the heavy weight on my heart again, the desire to cry, the feelings of loss and emptiness, the fear and the anxiety. Then I got some blurred flashes of what looked like a bombing in a building with high ceilings, maybe a church, though I am not sure. There was dust in the air, making me cough. I crouched, frightened, among the rubble, the stones. I tried to move them but my fingers ached. I only wanted to go out.

A bit later I saw myself lighting up some candles with a stick, in a church. No idea if it could have been the same church.

I felt it was 1942, before Johann’s death, but not too long before. I think I was still hoping to see him again, hoping he would have the comfort I needed so much, to cope with the sad events that had happened to me of late. I had tried to tell him in my letters, but I didn’t want him to be concerned about me. He was fighting in the front, he didn’t need distractions. I didn’t know I would never see him alive again.

Since then, I feel like there’s a stone slab on my shoulders. No images, no memories, come to me through meditation, but I only need to think a bit about it and my eyes fill with tears. It’s like I am still losing him, losing it all: my hopes, my strength, my sanity, my will to live... my life. Once more, I feel like I am paralyzed in that beach, with so much rage inside of me, so much pain, but unable to utter a word.

Katrina keeps crying silently, through me. She doesn’t understand the world she’s living in. She doesn’t know what to do to stop so much suffering. She still breathes, but she died the day Johann died. 

Hopeless.

I have started this month of August feeling a bit weird. I have come to suspect that every time I feel trapped in my present, without hopes of doing what I really want to do in the job scenario, and slowly sinking in a depression I don’t want, I start to get in a past life mood from my Black Widow life. It wouldn’t be too bad if it was just me and myself, my thoughts, fantasies, emotions and dreams. I could spend a few days lost in my own world, barely talking and pretending I’m interested in some TV show or movie while I stare at the screen, lost in some old scenes coming from my mind and not from the TV set. Then I would decide it’s enough and I would be back in the real world, as if nothing had happened. But it’s not that easy when those past life emotions affect your relationship with your partner, who doesn’t understand why all of a sudden you don’t want to go out or don’t care about the plans for the weekend.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing, I’m just imagining myself in an old bathtub thinking how to slit my wrists, as I got married and this is not what I thought it would be”.

And if he demands some attention it’s even worse, as then he makes me feel as an enslaved wife whose only duty is to make him happy... and that triggers me even more. I go to bed thinking the slight discomfort in my right eye could be due to a reflection of my past life when I got it black. As I fall asleep I can only see the white gown I was wearing in my wedding night. I can still feel the fear of a maiden, the bitterness of a young girl who liked a different suitor, my heart pierced with his first threats. And it seems all this is because the prospect of being “just a wife” for the rest of my life brings me the same feeling of hopelessness, a dark sense of foreboding that tells me “This can’t go right. Don’t let it happen again. Just run!”

Well, it looks like I can’t choose. No matter how much I try, for now my plans are always unattainable. I don’t know whether I dream too much or my wits are not enough to make those dreams come true. Maybe the Universe is punishing me for being evil with my past life husband. In this case I wonder how the Universe is punishing him for being a son of a bitch with me. No need to say I don’t believe in any of these possibilities. Or maybe I chose a crappy country and a crappy profession to ensure I would remain unemployed for half of my life, so that I learn to be imprisoned in my own home and feel happy for being a great cook. Is that something worth learning? No need to say I don’t believe that’s the point. Whatever it is though, the Universe can’t prevent me from wanting to escape through a window again.

It’s hard to come back to reality and remember things are different today: my partner is not a monster and I’m not a victim of female roles or a sexist society. It’s hard to remember I just find myself in certain circumstances and it’s my decision to deal with them one way or the other. Sometimes it feels right to have the wisdom of several past lives on my shoulders. But other times I just feel tempted to follow the same path of self-destruction. When I've become tired of what the world can offer me, does it matter if I decide to get off, even if it's just for a little while? 

Death by hanging.

I have a friend who thinks she died by hanging in a past life, though she has no specific memories. She described the feelings previous to this kind of death so perfectly, I have no doubts she has had the experience. Who knows, maybe it wasn’t by hanging, or maybe the circumstances surrounding that death are different from what she suspects. But I’m certain she’s been there, waiting to die, feeling how your whole world sinks, trying to accept the inevitable end, trying to control the fear, the anger, the loneliness... There are things you can only understand if you have lived through them.

I advised her to listen to a song by Arena called “Tantalus”. This song triggered me when I was just a beginner remembering past lives. Coincidentally I discovered this band by the same time, and somehow their music became my past life anthem, as they have so many lyrics to which I can relate so much. “Tantalus” is only one of them. There’s another one called “The hanging tree” that also stirs some feelings, especially if you have been hanged twice... as in my case.

I think I must have told somewhere how these two lives that ended in such a similar way, were completely different, as were the feelings associated to each of them. When I found out I had been hanged a second time, I just couldn’t believe it, for a while. But the reasons were not the same. In the second one I had hopes I would be spared, after all I was a woman, and I had managed to be declared “not guilty” before. Something went wrong this time, I didn’t understand what was happening, and of course I was convinced I didn’t deserve to die that way. In the first one, I knew I was condemning myself doing what I did. It wasn’t unexpected, but even so, the weight of the emotions during the last days is possibly stronger. As I was telling my friend, even today there are times I can’t shake off those feelings. There was guilt, but also a lot of grief and desperation. I had nothing to lose, and I was tired of fighting. I think I barely talked when they asked me to say something in my defense, as I knew it would be useless. They had already decided my condemnation, they had been after me for a long time. They only needed the final excuse. And I gave it to them. Even now, as I write these words, tears fill my eyes, still wondering what if I had made different decisions, what if I had chosen another path.

I often fantasize about how it feels to be hanged, how agonizing it must be to be deprived of the ability to breathe, until you just lose consciousness and it’s all over. I don’t have those memories. I do remember the liberation that comes after death. Sometimes it’s funny, to see how people who kill think they’re punishing you, when more often than not they are doing you a favour.

TANTALUS

Standing in water, but dying of thirst 

This is my thanks and this is my curse 

Try as I might, the fruit on the trees 

All remain beyond reach, beyond wishes 

or pleading for one last chance 

Waiting for time to pass me by 

Waiting for freedom, waiting to die

Where can I go, in a world without hope?

There is never a place 

for a soul that has broken so 

Trust in no one 

Trust in no one 

Linking the chains that weigh down your reason 

Nothing to blame, but the actions you choose 

Driven insane by the conscience of treason

Running in vein from a life of abuse 

The closer I get the further I am 

The journey I make is the course of the damned

The distance I go is no distance at all 

And I climb to the sky but find myself falling so 

Trust in no one 

Trust in no one 

Quench my thirst - Fill my heart 

Hold my hand - stay close by 

Talk to me - Don’t leave me crying here 

Standing in water, yet dying of thirst 

This is my thanks and this is my curse 

Empty forgiveness for old indiscretions 

And such condemnation for just one transgression 

Find me now - Set me free 

Find me now - Set me free 

Waiting for time to pass me by 

Waiting for freedom, waiting to die 

Why do you smile at my timeless ordeal here 

And why do you laugh at my hopeless appeal for your mercy? 

Tear away the chains - Free me now

No one else to blame - Let me go

Tear away the chains - Free me now

Driving me insane - Let me go

Tear away the chains - Free me now

No one else to blame - Let me go

Tear away the chains - Free me now

Driving me insane - Let me go  

                                                 

Drugs.

I’ve been avoiding this matter for days. After a hectic short period in my life, where I couldn’t do much past life work, apart from the book on children who remember I was writing, I have plenty of leisure time to spare again. I guess one day I’ll tell what happened with my great “premonition dream” and the “wonderful” job I got and quit, but right now I need to talk about serious stuff... really serious stuff.

I’ve talked about drugs before in this blog, but when past life scenes repeat again and again, it usually means there’s something that still needs to be processed. And this is the only place I can do it safely. Drugs are a very delicate matter, and also have a morbid component that causes attraction and revulsion at the same time. But most of all... it brings me to the darkest side of human nature, to the darkest side of... myself. Talking about it is always hard. But keeping silent doesn’t help.

June has always been a strange month for me. It’s not as tough as May, but it often makes me feel uneasy, not completely down, but unbalanced... as if I’m walking on a tight rope knowing I’m going to fall into the abyss. These words have reminded me of this Supertramp album cover that reflects so well what I mean:

Coincidence or not, the other day I was feeling weird like that. I meditated, and the images I got were very similar to what I described in that other entry I’ve mentioned above. I was in my old and dark flat in Köln, in the 60’s. Car lights shine through the window and reflect on the walls. I see the coffee table in the living room, the threadbare sofa where I sleep, rather than in the bed (actually, I think I don’t remember any bed, save the hotel beds where I took the women). I see the cigarettes and matchbox on the table. Though I don’t have a clear image, I know there are other drugs too (the flash of a spoon). I feel the anxiety, the inner rage, the hole in my heart. But I can’t understand why.

I don’t remember much of my college years, though I have the inkling my friends were some kind of extremists who loved to protest against our Government, and I even suspect we considered to take some kind of violent action at some point. I don’t know if I ever got involved in that. I only know I was very angry. And though I had a few personal problems, they were not enough to create so much anger inside me. And my only wish was to forget all that darkness, to escape the emptiness of my soul.

It wasn’t the first time I saw how I did it, but it was the first time I saw myself in front of the bathroom mirror, bare-chested, syringe in hand, ready to inject the heroin. “It’s easy”, were the words coming to my mind. Looking at yourself in the mirror is like doing it to another person, so the first times it was easier that way. There was less pain, more distance. It was easier to control the trembling of the hands. And the relief was immediate. Dreamless sleep and sweet oblivion... that was all I needed. Death was all I wanted.

I felt like shit afterwards, of course. Not because the effect of the drug (or not only because of that), but disappointed with myself, perfectly knowing I might not wake up again one of those nights... and not caring at all.

Now, looking in retrospect, I can understand. I see Katrina inside the man I was in the 60’s. I see the same desires of killing myself, of ending so much suffering. It was as if I had been in Hell before, and that Hell still attracted me strongly, like a giant magnet stealing me the will to live. Coincidence or not, my age then was very close to the age Katrina was when she died. It’s the same age I was when depression reached its maximum peak in this life. The same old patterns were repeating again.

The positive part of all this is somehow I decided “No more” and left all that darkness behind, to make something good of my days and become a real man who fought for freedom and justice. I still wonder how I made it, but I guess this proves light and darkness always go hand in hand.

I am a zombie.

No, don’t get me wrong. This is not a new fiction blog about walking dead. I’m talking of real life, of decisions made, of wanting to go in a specific direction in order to fulfill your dreams or at least earn a living, and encountering a wall again and again.

I’m not afraid of hard working. I like challenges, I like my job, I have knowledge and a love for all kind of animals (yes, not only pets) beyond the average. But I’m not stupid. And I’ve already known slavery in other lives. I’m not up to go through the same for the umpteenth time.

I may have seen my actual coworker in a dream before I actually met her, but turns out I was right about not wanting to be part of the job. I was reluctant to join her for a reason. It’s a shame because she’s a very nice person and a valid professional, but I think she’s wasting her time trying to make a business work in such conditions. Maybe it is worth for her, but it is not worth for me.

So, I had my doubts if this new job meant I was still alive. I’m finding out I’m not. At most I’m prolonging the agony I already mentioned in my last blog post. I am a zombie, ready to die and this time, yes, forget about my current shitty profession. Not even until my next life. Forget FOREVER, if I can.

I need someone to kill me, quick. Cut off my head, throw a spear through my chest, whatever you think is best to prevent me from wanting to be a vet again.

Death is better than being a zombie.

Weird things happening... and musings about preplanning.

First, I’ll copy what I wrote in one of the forums I participate three days ago.

Sometimes weird things happen. Maybe the Universe is weird in itself. Or maybe it's just random and we think there is some kind of Force making them happen, who knows...

This is what I said exactly one month ago: 

    Today I had a dream I was in a vet clinic. When someone mentioned horses had a soul a coworker looked at her like she was crazy. So I started to speak to her in whispers, saying I understood, and talking about some of my theories but not everything, to make people think. The dream was much longer than that, I was feeling sad as it's as if I'd like to be there, but at the same time knowing I don't fit and I won't, no matter how much I try, at least in this life. Actually, in the dream I was saying "Every time I am inside, I'm happy at first but then it's not long before I get disappointed again, I just can't stand certain attitudes". And I think this has been triggered because of a conversation I've been having with someone who showed me exploiters and people who don't have respect for people's work exist in all professions, sadly (yesterday evening my boyfriend also pointed out to me that economists say that the way the world is going, everyone is going to have less and less good job positions). And then my rebel instincts stir and remind me I just can't deal with this kind of people and remain peaceful, as I am when I'm in the kitchen cooking or ironing while listening to music. Maybe one day I'll have to learn how to deal with them (that is, being false and pretending I give a damn for what they say), but it seems that's what I have to leave for another life. They'd kill me in this one. Maybe they did long ago, and that's what I'm fighting really, maybe that's the reason I seem to be in an eternal agony. 

This is not the first dream of this kind I have. I remember another one where I also was in a clinic filled with people, everyone working and complaining of the disorganization, work conditions, etc. But the last one was a bit different as I was talking to a particular person, and it seemed there was a bit of understanding between us.

While I was concentrating on my writer's career I began to feel like I was ok with forgetting about my vet career. Had I been killed? Well, it's ok, who cares... I can always come back in my next life, when I don't have to fight so much just to have a decent job after so much effort. I was having fun creating my own business cards as a writer, and the prospect of entering a contest for the first time is quite exciting. Then someone phoned. I couldn't even remember the job position I had applied to. I've been doing that almost every week for the last four years and a half, and most of the times they didn't even bother to phone. But then the interview was even more surprising. I met someone and things seemed to click instantly. She wasn't my boss, she'd be my coworker. I even thought I had met her before... not in this life, though later I discovered she had been doing an internship in the same place I had been working for the last time, but four years after I quit. She didn't accept the job she was offered after the internship because the pay was ridiculous.

Now I know there was a lot of competition to get this job (it just shows the desperation we're living in), but after we talked and then she saw me working she quickly made the choice, though her boss kept doubting and doubting. But sometimes it seems the Universe conspires to clear out all the obstacles so that you obtain what you need... when you need it (even when you think it's not the right moment).

When I think about her, I have the impression she was the one in the dream. It felt like I was debating with myself, as it's clear I have conflicts in this respect. But now it also feels I could have been talking to her, as if she was trying to convince me to join her, and I was telling her my reasons not to.

Now I will add a few words. At this point of my past life journey I still don’t know whether we plan our lives or not. I’d say we don’t. Some people love to believe everything is carefully planned and everything is right. Whatever happens, there’s a God up there who allows every death, every disgraceful event, someone who looks after our souls and makes sure there is a reason for everything. I always disagree. If that were true, we wouldn’t return with past life traumas, unresolved issues or fears to be judged again. While in Heaven, we would understand everything was planned and everything was for the better. We'd learn what we had to learn, and then we’d come back searching for new lessons. I do believe our human minds can’t grasp the intention of our soul wanting to go through certain experiences, and I do believe that what we think is wrong, could be right from the spiritual perspective. But I think there can be “deviations” from the script. We can make decisions we thought we’d never make. We can react in a different way when we encounter in reality those challenges we wanted to face. I don’t think we’re just puppets unconsciously living what was already planned. I think our lives are a dynamic process where anything can happen. I’m sure that’s the reason living is so “fun” most of the times.

What I can say now is that there’s indeed a higher self who knows better than our “lower self” (for lack of a better word) what we have to do next. I do believe we have “coworkers” who are part of the team and help us make the right decisions, depending on what we need. I also believe in free will, so I’m sure the final choice is always ours, no matter what advice they give. I think this is what we call “Destiny”. We think it’s something we can’t control, something outside of us. But it’s only we are not aware of how our consciousness works in higher levels, communicating with our guides and finally making us do what is better for us... IF the message gets through. I believe this is not always the case, as sometimes we are blind and deaf to the messages we get from our coworkers. We can get impatient, we can get stubborn, and pursue something we know is not for us, wasting time that maybe we won’t be able to recover. If we lose our head, things can certainly go wrong, and the end is all of our making, it’s not “carefully and divinely planned so that we learn something”. We learn from our own choices.

I feel so lucky to have the line open, to feel I’m not alone in this journey. I feel like I called three years ago, and they instantly replied to my cry of help, giving me the answers I sought. Now that I’ve resolved most of those issues that were affecting me, I can go back to work... and they unlocked the doors. Even before I felt ready, I was intuitively doing things to start this new stage in my life. I moved to my new flat, and brought my work clothes with me, though the prospect of finding a job kept looking quite bad. It seems magic, but it’s just... LIFE!

Empathy

I have been told recently by a reincarnation researcher (or that’s how he calls himself) that most past life memories coming in adulthood are, literally, rubbish. I had a pretty long conversation with him, as I had asked for help to get children’s cases for a project I’m working on. He first told me he’d gladly do, then he found out we disagree in certain points, and he decided I wasn’t worthy of his help. My three years of recalling past lives were nothing compared with his thirty years of research, a research that apparently led him to the conclusion that most adult memories are rubbish. And, of course, as he couldn’t assess mine because I wasn’t up to give him the details, along with all the verifications I claim to have, I guess he thought I was also one of those persons with shitty recollections, probably a crazy person that has nothing better to do than saying in a private message in Facebook that I’ve killed, been killed, executed, and also committed suicide in a few of my past lives. He also thinks that memories obtained by self-hypnosis are as unreliable as those obtained by hypnosis, just because both techniques include the work “hypnosis”. This is a curious claim, as I had to explain to him what self-regression or self-hypnosis is. On the contrary, he takes memories obtained through meditation as valid, as he considers those as spontaneous memories.

And this is one of the most serious researchers I’ve ever found, one of the few who is a paying a little attention to adult memories...

God save us all.

At least, he assured to me, he has an ability to empathize. He has a daughter who started to remember past lives at three years old, and he can understand people who remember because he’s talked to dozens of people (wow, I’m impressed) and interacted with a lot of them. But he has no memories of his own and he doesn’t know what self-hypnosis is.

Please God save us all.

I’m not sure if my feelings were hurt when he threw all my memories and experiences (and the memories and experiences of hundreds of people, some of them very dear to me) to the garbage just because he felt like it, or if I’m more disappointed than hurt. But I know who I am, and I am a better researcher than he. I don’t have preconceived ideas about certain techniques, and I don’t throw anything to the garbage without analyzing and studying it properly. I also try to experiment myself, as I’ve done with astral projection too, so that I can see with my own eyes if certain people’s claims can be true. As a real scientist, I have to take into account all data, I can’t ignore what I don’t like.

I was deeply disappointed as it seems he’s just reciting by heart what he has learnt in who-knows-what studies, instead of listening to people. I did feel scrutinized and dissected as a dead lab rat, being unfairly judged just because I think all people can remember if they try. I felt he was looking at me from his tall tribune, I almost could see his condescending smile as he was trying to educate me and lecture me about statistics and facts I’m so tired of hearing. This is another curious thing, as I have access to information that no researcher will ever find, especially if they keep being like that. Information I’m so glad is secret, as if I were the keeper of sacred knowledge too important to be contaminated by unworthy eyes (something I also did in the past). My desire to talk I had not long ago is slowly becoming into a desire to remain safe and silent, enjoying the insights and company of those who really know, those who really understand how it feels to kill, be killed, be executed or commit suicide in past lives.

I didn’t need empathy when I started to remember, I needed people who really knew what I was going through, because they had also experienced it. No cold researcher in the world can do that without memories of their own. But I, as a reincarnationist and a researcher, I can and must go further. I’ve already come a long way, but I’m sure better times are coming for reincarnation. We, the ones who remember, not that kind of researchers, are the ones opening the way. We are the vanguard. We have the wits, the strength, the wisdom, the experience, and science is on our side. We will win. One day our voice will be heard. And that day we will win.