Past Life Memory Bank
www.open-sesame.com
Europe: Scotland
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When I was fifteen, my family and I went to England
and Scotland. As we went further into the Highlands of Scotland,
I became more and more familiar with the area we were moving through--I
even knew what loch was around the next hill, and that sort of thing.
I felt a deep sadness, combined with a love of the Highlands, and joy at
"coming home" I still feel homesick for Scotland! Thanks for the
site. Allison
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One of my past lives, I have lived for more than
1000 years and remember many of them-was in Scotland in the 1200's. I remember
being about 8 years old, sitting on the side of my house and leaning on
the wall, looking at the mountains. I also remember being in my 20s and
fighting for a very important cause. I remember killing many people for
this cause. I also remember being in a church at one point as if I was
being honored for something I had done. I was kneeling down in the front
of the church. I had a few friends in that life, one whose name was Duncan,
who was very tall and had long black hair. I was shorter and had reddish
blond hair. My tartan was red and green, I have never really looked for
which one it could be.
I have never been to Scotland, but have been
to France and Ireland, and the closer I am to it, the more I feel an intense
pull towards it and the more I feel the need to go back home. I love rain
and fog and feel like I am from the Highlands. I have even been told by
a psychologist that many of my physical symptoms and illnesses are typical
of the Scot, not from Canada where I am from. I remember the smell of the
clothes and the grass and the dampness, I even clearly remember being a
man and I am a woman in this life. I have had this memory for a long time.
Thank you for reading this and possibly printing it. Again, I really admire
your work here. Thank you. Manon Legault, Montreal, Qc. Canada
*
I believe that I am a legendary Scottish nobleman,
who lived in the 1200's, now reincarnated as a regular guy. My name
then was Sir James Douglas "The Good", of the Clan Douglas of Scotland.
Information on this man can be found through many sources. It has
even been said that without the Douglas Clan in English history, there
would be little to write about. My birth given name today is Douglas James.
The more I read about this historical figure, the more parallels I find
to my life today. Many coincidental notions I had brushed off in
the past, now make perfect sense, as I read about this man. Somehow,
I know that it was me, without a doubt.
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In this year I was in Scotland. When we reach
the UK, it feels like home. The sun, the wind and the smell of the air...If
I'm home, when I was a bit youngeer...1 year...I always have the feeling
that I want to go home. When one day we go to the Loch Ness, it was wonderful.
I've felt I was at home. We were in a ruined castle. I don't think it was
the castle I've lived in, if I lived there. We was in another castle. It
was quite familiar. When I was 2-5 years old, I always draw, angels and
'princessess' I wasn't and I'm not a girlish girl...I'm really boyish...so
I don't know why a draw that....maybe 'cause I can't draw a normal soccer
ball:)
*
ok. i'm very new to this..... and i don't know if this makes
any sense, or if my interpretation makes sense... but... here's something
that happened to me.... but once, when i was about 9 years old, i started
to become wary of anyone or anything approaching me from my left side,
i get very nervous, agitated, etc. and i often get charley horse cramps
in my left calf. about three years back, i went to bed early, and fell
into a very deep sleep, and i'm suddenly sitting on a rock in the wind.
i felt a sense of... longing. i looked at myself, and i was wearing two
skirts, one of which is the MacKenzie tartan (which i found out i've mac
kenzie blood in my family). my shawl was also the tartan, my hair was long,
red, curly and in braids, somewhat. at any rate, i think i was in scotland,
judging by the tartan, and the countryside. i think i was waiting for someone,
but i don't know. suddenly, i was aware of someone on my left side. when
i turned it was a man, charging at me. he stabbed the place where i get
charley horses all the time, and cut the muscle right to the bone with
his claymore. and the attack was from the left... i'm seriously wondering
if that's why i get charley horses ONLY in that place, and always hate
it when people are on my left side? if you have any idea.... please let
me know . thanks :)
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Hello, i haven't really had a memory, so much
as a feeling of familiarity with Scotland, even though I've never been
there in this life. Every time I read about the land I feel a strange
sort of pull in the back of my mind, as if a memory was trying to force
itself out of my subconcious and the very first time i read a book set
in 16th century Scotland i immediatly understood the way the clans worked
and Lairds worked and most of the slang made perfect sense to me.
I don't know if i'm imagining this or not, but it sure feels real to me!
If anyone feels the same way and can maybe help me sort this out and find
out what really went on, please email me. Thank you, Mystic
*
There are times when I go into meditation and
I 'remember' events of my past life. I've recollected a time where
I was sitting in the courtyard of my castle, my husband, Lord Patrick Glamis,
was recently murdered in the games room. My son, John, runs out to
me, telling me that the English king is on his way for a visit. I
automatically feel frightened, not wanting him to come. Nevertheless,
he is the king, if not for my country, for my neighbor's. I have
my servants prepare a very elegant dinner, and after we eat and party,
I retire to my bed chambers. A short time later, the king enters,
demanding I partake in sexual intercourse with him. I refuse, and
this angers him greatly.
His Majesty leaves early the next morning.
Later in the day, I receive a letter stating that I am to be tried in an
English for the crime of Witchcraft. It is signed by the King of
England. This confuses me, because I never practiced my religion
in public, and no one, not even my late husband, knew that I wasn't Christian.
The English soldiers arrest my son and I, taking us to Edinburgh Castle.
We are put in separate cells in the dungeon, where John is tortured.
I am forced to hear his screams. I confess to my 'sins', and John
is murdered in front of my eyes. The next day, I am brought to center
of the village, tied to a pole, bound and gagged. The pile of wood
beneath me is set afire, and the last words I hear are from His Royal Majesty,
"Let this be a lesson to all those women who refuse me".
At this point I suffocate, and lose consciousness.
I remember being called Lady Janet Douglas, the last of my true clan.
I was also called Lady Glamis, because of my husband's title.
*
Hello. I'm very happy to be able to share
my thoughts with people who are open to probabilities beyond logical explanations.
I have not had dreams about past lives but I do feel this great emotions
inside of me when I encounter anything that has to do with Scotland ( music,
architecture, landscape, people, accent, kilts, bagpipes, swords) I do
feel that I belong there. I was born in Venezuela. My mother is spanish
and my father is from India. I have no relation whatsoever with Scotland,
but I am completely fascinated with that place of the world. I cry when
I
read their unfair history. I get excited when I hear the bagpipes. Is just
my favourite place on earth. I don't feel like this for any other place
including my own country.
*
I have never responded to such web sites, but
felt a true kinship with some of what I have read here. My "memory"
began about 20 years ago, when my husband and I were out for a Sunday drive.
Quite unexpectedly, yet nostalgically, I commented, "This [countryside]
reminds me so of Scotland." Silence set in immediately; I'm not sure
whether my husband or myself was most shocked, as I had never been to Scotland.
Shortly, I began to have "recollections" of myself as a young pubescent
girl, with reddish blonde braided hair, frolicking with her large English
Sheep dog, in the softest, moist, and greenest of grasses.
This occurred in a yard surrounded by a cold,
stone wall about waist high, and beyond the wall was a dirt and pebbled,
well worn pathway. I am aware that the weather was unusually warm
at that particular time, as the skies were typically heavy, gray, with
low-lying water laded clouds. I recall dark, cold, possibly tarred
or wooden steps leading up to a small dark dwelling, where this young woman
lived with her ailing mother. Upon the sides of the steps are dirty urns,
but I am not aware of their intended use -- only that they are unclean.
Upon entering the house, there is a rough stone fireplace, with many black
pots, which is obviously the focus point of this small, dank dwelling.
This youngster was typically
overburdened with many chores, as the elder woman needed much care
taking. There is no sense of a father or husband present. I am most struck
in my "memories" with experiences noted by all the senses -- in other words,
not just pictures, but rather smells, and the touch or feel of experiences.
I have not traveled to Europe, and I am not an
reader of romance novels or the like. During the times of most vivid
recollections I was attending nursing school -- possibly a precipitant
for the recollections of other "caretaker" times. God Bless.
Cindy
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Hi, this is a short one, but very profound for
me. Somewhere in the British Isles, I was sure it was Ireland when I was
a child, but I did some research a couple of years ago, and now I think
it may be the Highlands. When the sky turns a certain shade of gray, and
the wind whips, the smell of some herbs, a particular shade of blue, a
rock wall... these things all make me feel extremely homesick, nostalgic.
Which is odd, because I can never pin them to anything in this lifetime.
I even hunted out yarn, and crocheted a shawl in the Blue. It's very comforting.
Anyway here's the picture I've been able to build.
A stone house in the crease between steep hillsides. The land is green
and gray, it's very cold, but I'm used to it. I'm happy and content, there
are geese there. And herbs drying in the roof, of the house. It feels like
something is coming, riders maybe? I'm surprised. And that's all I have.
There's a feeling of maybe the riders aren't good, but not unexpected.
Maybe surprised that it's now.
*
I have a vision sometimes that just kind of flashes
and makes me faint with the pain it brings in my lower back (one time in
the middle of class). I have a flash of battle and someone falling to my
right. Every single time it starts where the last one ended, but what's
strange is that I'm called the true Princess of Scotland. I do feel very
stingily towards Scotland, and I'm wondering if anybody can give me any
clue to what this is about!
*
Well, I don't exactly know when it was.
All I know is that when I was thirteen years old, I was pulled to anything
to do with Scotland, when I would see pictures of certain areas I would
burst into tears. Not from sadness, but from missing it so much it hurt
me physically. I ache to be there again. I can remember the smell and the
feel of the grass under my hand.
*
I had this dream one night
in April 1999. For the few months previous, I had realized that I had been
playing the role of a mother in my last long-term relationship which drained
me in every possible way: financially, emotionally, physically. I was feeling
so sick, frustrated and resentful. I feel this dream or memory is remarkable,
because of the vivid recollection of emotion, dialogue and detail portrayed.
In this life, I am female but not caucasian, and have no children and am
not familiar with the British Isles at all via personal experience or media
exposure.
I am caucasian with blonde
curly hair in a pony tail. I live somewhere cold and north in the British
Isles. I wear a blue t-shirt/smock and apron. I am mad and hurt. My lover
is at the door but I do not want to let him in. We are having a lovers'
quarrel. He finally says that if I don't let him in, he'll “blast his way
in”. He puts his rifle to the door knob, fires through the lock, and enters.
I am standing there in cold, white northern light. My hands are crossed
over my chest in a stubborn attempt to hide my bulging belly. I regard
him. He is a tall and medium, well built man with reddish blonde,
balding hair and a full beard . I think he is wearing spectacles?
The surrounding outdoor scene looks straight out of the movie Babe:
cold and misty, foggy cliffs, grassy knolls, horse and buggy, rustic farms
... I am in love with him and there is a deep attraction there, but I am
very hurt and very unhappy. I am dissatisfied with his vocation of
a musician, with a traveling military regimental band.
"If he is to be with me,
he should be here with me, I say." are my thoughts. He regards me
with deep concern and affection. There is a strong bond there. He confronts
me saying : “ Look here lassie, folks have been telling me that you're
a-carrying me son, and that you're big as a barrel, they say.... " A pause,
then he continues more softly, " Now tell me,.. is it true?”
I can barley contain my
tears, and frustration. I am mad at him for not being around
for the pregnancy, and vowed I would go it without him, but it was very
hard on me. He may have stayed till end of term for a brief , happy
period of togetherness then left again, or perhaps I had the
baby without him, and then he returned. I am not certain as the next
scene flashes to :
We are both lying on a
bed with plain white sheets with thin grey stripes. The same cool, grey
northern light streams through the antique glass farm window and onto the
bare stone gray walls. We are laughing with joy and pleasure at our new
bouncing baby boy. He is about 9 months old. I smack his pudgy baby
bottom playfully with motherly pride, he is such a handsome baby. .
We are holding and passing the baby between the two of us with pride and
joy. The baby is blonde, blue or gray eyed. He has red checks, and
a naked fleshy pink body. He is very pudgy but not fat, just very plump,
strong and healthy.
My partner says says
something like : " ..that makes three of us all together ....." I
look down for a brief moment of sadness and poignancy. That gnawing
ache returns and I hesitate before saying quietly :" Yea, but you're
never eva here..." I woke up crying a little. Very sad. Very touched.
Strange. Upon waking I wonder where I was. My first thought is British
Isles, not Ireland, but near Ireland. Then the Hebrides comes to my mind..
More European Memories:
Europe:
General, Castles
Austria,
the Balkans, Germany, Russia, Scandinavia, Spain, Turkey
England,
Wales
France/Gaul/French
Revolution
Greece
Ireland
Irish/Celtic/British
Isles: Mixed
and Non-specific Memories
Italy/Roman
Empire
Scotland
See Also:
WWI - WWII
-
The
Burning Times -
The Titanic - Multiple
Lives
Mixed
and Non-specific Memories
