Past Life Memory Bank
www.open-sesame.com
Multiple Lives
*
First, and probably most recent, is my lifetime in
World War II. I was a Dutch man who joined the Waffen-SS brigades
of Nazi Germany to save his - my then - family from destitution and
possible destruction. I have a lot of anger from that lifetime in this
lifetime, I have Asperger Syndrome and I think that may be a leftover
from that or some other lifetime in the past. I remember that I
participated in atrocities, but had to work myself up to do it, mostly
using an MP42 submachine gun. I was killing innocent people back
then and I am horrified remembering this as I type. I have had to
learn a lot about tolerance in this lifetime as I was born an
Australian and Australia
is a multicultural country.
Second, and probably just as significant, is a
lifetime where I was in Africa. I fell in love with a beautiful
albino woman, and we wanted to be together. I remember the love
in her eyes, as I caressed her white curled hair, but sadly, we were
found out and she was executed. I was banished from the tribe as I had
shamed both of our
families. Even in this current lifetime I am fascinated by albino
women, and I have a feeling I might meet the albino lover from that
lifetime someday, even if she isn't like that this time around.
Next that I can remember is something vaguely
medieval. We are storming up a hill, yelling incoherently, and we
are raiding a town. We are Vikings, strong and free, ready to die for
Allfather Odin. I did some awful things then, but we had to, for our
people back home needed the land and the gold. I remember passing over,
thinking, "Valhalla, here I come..." or something like that.
Finally, I can remember a Dutch girl's laughter, it
is mine. She is swirling through a tulip fields, and her dress is
sort-of old-fashioned with the clogs and everything. I am feeling
a great sense of wonder and joy as I am writing this. She finds a man,
whose kind eyes look into her, and this was her husband then. I think
it may end up being my wife now, if that is what is meant to happen.
That's about all I can recall, with a little bit of
help through prayer.Thank you for your time and I hope this can be of
interest to someone. - Kyle
*
Hello, please consider my thoughts for submission to
your weblog. Unlike many contributors here, I do not have a crystal
clear picture of a past life, nor am I really sure what I believe my
experiences to be, but I feel that this is a place that I can share
them with like-minded people.
For as long as I can remember I have been having
flashbacks of some sort. These flashbacks hit me unexpectedly with a
charge not unlike an electric shock. They seem to be a memory of
some sort, but one with deep emotional attachment. Immediately
following a flashback I feel a deep sense of loss or longing for
something I had but lost, though I don't know what it is. The
feelings are strong and very real but also fade very quickly as the
flashback memory is hard to hold onto.
Over the years I have identified 6-7 very different
memories, each representative of a different time era, place or
chronological age. These same 6-7 scenarios have repeated
themselves for most of my 49 years, though they are fading and becoming
less frequent as I age. I have noticed that they seem to be triggered
by something sensory...a scent, a sound, a particular play of light or
weather pattern that feels oddly familiar. I have always felt that I
would be somehow enlightened if I could remember the full story that
created each memory.
In one flashback I feel terror and desperation and
see grayness everywhere. The soil around me is gray and finely
powdered. I am having difficulty breathing and feel a sense of
tremendous doom. I am not sure, but have questioned whether my visions
are that of the great dust bowl of the 1930's?
In another flashback I am in a smoky bar that sets
below street level in an urban area. Again the time era feels 1930's -
1940's based on the heavy woodwork and clothes that I see around me
(cannot see people's faces). I feel that I belong here and believe I
spend a lot of time here, but again feel total despair and
hopelessness. This is the first flashback I ever remembered and tried
to tell my mother when I was around 5 years old
My strongest flashback involves me being a child in
some sort of encampment. I don't know why, but I feel like we are
Gypsies and the time is turn of the 19th-20th century. This flashback
makes me long painfully to go back here. I feel so free and
unencumbered of all cares that I nearly cry with longing after I have
this fleeting memory
Last example is that I am an adult and am working
alone in a very plush office late at night. The office is in a
high-rise skyscraper and I know that I am someone very important. The
city is dark with thousands of flickering lights and I feel a strange
quiet surrounding me. This memory is also one of my earliest childhood
flashback memories.
I have tried to explain this to others over the
years but they have looked at me like I had a third eye in the center
of my forehead. I am happy to have found this web-site to share my
experiences with others who may understand, or perhaps share my curious
experiences.
*
Hey, I found your website and thought I should send
you my memories.
First, I was a white dog, I had a thick coat
and was good-sized. I sat in the back of a wagon on a flour sack, while
my human drove the horses. I nuzzled under his arm and he patted my
head. I felt like I loved him so much, I would have done anything for
him. He was wearing a light-colored shirt and dark pants with
suspenders and a wide brimmed hat. This dream was in First Person, the
way I looked was more of a feeling. I wonder sometimes if that man is
my now fiancé. I love him the same way, unconditional. As for a
timeframe, I'm guessing 1880's - 1900's.
Second, I was in a large airplane, it had seats
along the sides facing each other. It was military, I'm sure. I was
standing behind the pilot and co-pilot, gripping on the back of their
seats. We were doing a nosedive into dense jungle. At the moment of
impact, everything went black. It was dead silent and I woke up more
scared than I had ever been. My gut feeling is it was from the Vietnam
War.
Thanks for the listen. Take Care. ~Kristyn~
*
About 15 years ago, I had a past life regression
done by a clergy member of a Christian church near my home. In doing
this exercise I learned some things about my past lives and how they
relate to the "current" me. I learned my soul is older than time, and
that the job given to me by God was to go out and learn about people.
My four most recent past lives are as follows: I was
a male teacher in China, where I taught that men were superior to
women. I joked later that I was the founder of Male Chauvinism.
In yet another life, I was a lady in waiting for the
Queen of France, Catherine De Medici. (I do happen to be French in this
life on my grandmother's side).
I was a woman living in Austria, a rather large
woman with 13 children. I do know that it was the 1700's. (It so
happens that in my current life, I am a direct descendent of the royal
family who ruled the area during that time frame).
I was a steel worker in a factory at the turn of the
century. My co-worker in this particular past life was the past life of
my current father. Confusing, I know. During this life, I was very
successful and my co-worker/father was very disgruntled from that,
because of that his attitude over that carried over into our current
lives. I was advised that if I wanted any sort of relationship with my
father, I would have to make the first move.
*
Classification: UNCLASSIFIED - Caveats: NONE
Eileen, Perhaps these will be of interest to you and your readers.
Blessed Be!
When I was about three, I began to have a
reoccurring dream, or nightmare rather. I cannot now remember all the
details, and the dream itself was always pretty vague. I'm standing on
the edge of a cliff, looking down and trying to figure out a way to get
down safely. I remember KNOWING that I will not survive this. There is
a man behind me and I know that he is dangerous. He then shoots me in
the back, right in the spine and a little below my shoulder blades,
causing me to fall off the cliff. I can feel the pain of the shot, I
smelled the gunpowder, and can feel the wind blowing past my body as I
fall.
In this current life I despise being touched in that
spot on my back, am absolutely phobic of heights, and I've broken my
back in that same spot.
At around ten, I first started dreaming of me (as a
boy) and another little boy (we were around 8 years old) walking
through some pastureland with the greenest, lushest grass I've ever
seen. It was a beautiful day. The land was separated by wooden
split-rail fences, and I seem to remember that our clothing was
concurrent with late 19th century styles. His were nicer than mine, and
I remember being angry that I wasn't as well-off as him. We hear a
noise behind us, a sort of snuffle-snort, and we look behind to see
several wild boars following us. They have wicked looking tusks and we
start to run, thinking "they'll never catch us!" The boars keep up, and
youthful excitement soon turns to terror. I remember screaming at my
friend to hurry and make it over the fence - he's running faster than
me. If only we can make it over the fence... My calves start to hurt in
anticipation of their tusks ripping through the muscle. I make it to
the fence, and in the process of climbing over, a boar gets a hold of
my right calf. I then wake up. I'm almost certain that the friend from
my dream/recollection is the same as a boy I was best friends with in
first grade in this current life.
When I was twelve, I read a book about a little girl
running away from home to become a sailor during the 18th century. The
descriptions of the life, the ship, the duties and the atmosphere were
so familiar to me. I couldn't put the book down, and poured over the
passages that had to do with sailing on the vessel. I've always had a
"thing" for the old-fashioned wooden ships and can visualize what it
must've felt like to walk upon the deck of such a ship. This first time
I was on a modern metal ship, I could only think "this is wrong" but
felt an immense excitement at being "back at sea". This first trip was
only across the English Channel, but as we approached the coast of
England, I could point out where several coastal towns lay. Several
years later, I was lucky enough to meet a sailing instructor who agreed
to teach me when seeing my passion for it. He gave me control over his
vessel after a half-hour of 'teaching' (reminding) me. I've never been
so happy in my life. It was almost like coming home. Now, I grew up
land-locked, never took a beach vacation with my family and had
unsuccessful swimming lessons when a small child. I'm terrified of deep
water, but as long as I don't look down into it and think about it,
there is no better feeling to me than being on a seafaring vessel.
This one requires a bit of backstory. In middle
school, I had a friend whose mother was seriously into antiquing. On
one of her trips to an antique fair, she came across a postcard of an
extremely old painting of some unknown family. The thing was, the
little girl in the painting was the spitting image of my friend's
little sister, Lauren. So, when I was 15, I had a dream one night that
I was (again) male, but this time around 20 or so. I know that I was
tall and slender. My best friend was also tall, although not quite tall
as myself, with piercing blue eyes and curly black hair that he wore
almost chin-length. My feelings lead me to think that the times are
what we now call the dark ages, although I don't have a better guess
than that. I remember that I was really fond of my friend; we had a
really close bond. I think that I was kind of a 'cold fish' - I
remember that there were more men in our war band, but I wasn't really
concerned with them too much, as if I couldn't be bothered with anyone
else.
We were on a mission to save a very small village
whose people were being driven out and/or murdered by English settlers.
I had a sword in my hand, and the five of us did what we could to round
up the villagers before the soldiers came, but we were too late. We
sent them running, and fought to buy them time. I fought against a
large bald guy with dark eyes, probably around 35 year old who I knew
was an enemy of mine. We took one loss and then managed to run off
ourselves. We ran after the villagers we'd already sent out, and kept
them going until they got to the nearby forest. Then my friends and I
split off from the villagers, circling back around to make sure that
everyone had gotten away, when I saw a train of flat-bottomed open
carriages, and in one was a little girl (about 10) that looked just
like Lauren. She saw us hiding amongst the trees, and started screaming
bloody-murder, so we had to run again.
I took an arrow in the back of my left shoulder with
the arrowhead protruding from my under my clavicle. I fell, and my
friend helped me up - the wound in itself was not life threatening. He
looked terrified at losing me... Then I woke up. I do not have the
feeling that I perished at that time. I've never had another dream
about this time. This dream was, however, in another language, and for
a few days after I was able to repeat some of the words spoken. I don't
remember what the words are now, but I speak several languages and have
made a study of it - I feel fairly certain that it was Gaelic or
something close to it. The strange thing is, I recently have started to
get massive sharp pains in those two areas of my shoulder, with no
injury, no markings, and my doctor has no idea what it could be. ~
EireReaven
Classification: UNCLASSIFIED - Caveats: NONE
*
I feel that this is right. I haven't been regressed
or progressed using hypnosis. I didn't dream these. I have these things
where sometimes for half an hour or an hour I just kind of
meditate/deeply think. These memories just popped up in my mind. I have
always been interested in past life, philosophy, religion - which is
odd I guess for your average 15 year old, but I've been like this ever
since I was little.
My first memory I got was when I asked myself some
simple questions, none of them were working I thought it was a load
of... well you know. Until I tried again, and I actually got something.
My name is John and I feel like my last name is Derick. The time period
is 1560's, it's in England and it's in a large town, not London, but
somewhere large. Ipswich? I think, I'm not entirely sure. My father is
John, and my mums name in this life is Theresa or Marie-Therese. My
father has some sort of business, it's in the building that we live in.
I was like 25-26 at that time in the 1560's. I felt like I died soon
after this memory because my memory starts with the building where we
live and work, in the town. I run out onto the street. I have blonde
hair and hazel eyes. I look like I have just learnt of some shocking
news - not rage, but a slight kind of terror in my eyes. I stumbled out
of the building really. I felt like I had quite the temper. I think I
was going to find something out, see if it was true. I think my rage
might have taken over me. It's something I deal with in this life.
My second memory is of a wealthy French woman, who
has some sort of a tie to England. She is some sort of a dance
instructor. I feel like ballet. It's in the 1920's and she is in her
50's. From what I felt in the memory she was nice, but she was stubborn
and had a temper just like in my first past life that I can remember.
Her hair is brown, hazel eyes. She has curly hair, very thick in a type
of bob type thing. I feel like she uses her elegance and status to lord
it over others. When I first read and then watched Poirot, I really
felt connected to the type of people and everything about the time
period. She was quite happy, she only needed herself. She never
married. I think this is why in this current life I don't feel the need
to be in a relationship as so many do. And from my meditation I feel
like she died in 1933, on a train or in a foreign country - not France
or England.
Thank you so much for this website, Michael.
*
You can see from the dates that the first
recollection came to me in 1988, the second in 2006. I have come to
feel very lucky to have had my conscience awakened by That
One. Nothing else would have produced the outcome I have
experienced. Your website seems very valuable and very genuine.
A
Recollection. I was a merchant in Jerusalem. I sold tall clay jars
and wine in tall jars in a narrow stall on a big street of such stalls.
My business was a profitable one, I made a good living, and I enjoyed
my work. I had many friends, some very close. My wife was a wonderful
woman; we were very happy together, and our children were a joy to us.
One day---I was alone in the shop, looking, as I did, onto
the street---three bearded men in white walked by. One of them stopped,
and, from the street, caught my gaze in his. In an instant, I knew that
he Knew. He knew everything about me: my life, my pleasures, my hopes,
my worries. But that was not important. He knew something else. He was
that something, and as he looked at me---ten seconds perhaps---I saw
that my life was a little thing, an unimportant thing. It meant nothing
whether my business failed or I became rich, whether I had a shrew for
a wife or an adoring woman. None of it mattered. And this man had not
said a word to me.
For the next weeks, I was like a man in a daze.
Nothing had changed in my life, yet what I now understood made it all
like ashes. There was nothing to say, even to my closest friend. I had
no desire to see this man again, but somehow, quite by accident, I came
on him preaching in one of the squares, and although I didn't stay to
hear him, I later asked and found out his name.
When I next heard of him, I heard he was to be
crucified. That day, I went down to my stall, went inside, but
did not open the front of the stall. I spent the day inside the
dark stall, crying. I did not look for the man then, or since then, but
that one look---I could not help it. I have looked for myself
since.
AFTERWARD: For months I did not know what to do. My business
was fine, my marriage fine, my friends still friendly. I was not fine.
This man had opened a door in me, a door to a large, empty room. From
time to time, I would feel completely hollow and find myself in tears.
Less than a year later, I told my wife I was going on a
voyage, left her with most of my money, and sailed for Greece. I was
looking for something: I did not know what. In Delphi, at the temple of
the oracle, I wished to enter, but I did not know what to ask. The eyes
of the priest so reminded me of His eyes that I left.
I believe I spent many years as a solitary teacher of boys
in Eastern Europe, in a place where I was unknown. I do not know
if I ever saw my family again. - 11/13/88
*
Life after life, I remembered His eyes, but life
after life, nothing changed. It wasn't working. Finally, I agreed to be
broken down, decrystallized. It would not be pleasant.
Centuries ago, I was tortured and totally
humiliated. I became full of hatred, a toady; I would humiliate
myself----or others. I became brutal and impassive. I tortured and
killed others, and was in turn tortured and killed. I had become less
than human, much less. I was a repulsive, despicable monster, and
I loathed myself. This went on for many lives.
Somehow, His look never left me, even then. In the
late 1930s or early 1940s, I was a Hasidic Jew, perhaps in Poland.
Along with thousands of others, I was put into a concentration
camp. I became a “capo”, the head of a work crew. I did what was
necessary to save my own life, even abusing other prisoners.
One day, a rabbi was put in front of me and I was
ordered to beat him. The rabbi had His eyes. I refused, screaming, “I
saw Him! I saw Him! The one you claim to worship! This is what He
looks like! I saw Him!”
This is the last thing I did in my previous life. I
was killed on the spot. But I had finally overcome the last obstacle to
my eventual freedom. And that is why I am here. I cannot begin to undo
the harm I did in this nightmare, but in the words of a Hasidic saying
“let us leave this disgraceful state and take service with the
Creator.” This I can begin. - 1/19/06
*
Hello, I was browsing on the website about past
lives and came up to yours. Well, I have always had visions of
different areas around the world. I have 3 different soothsayers (none
of them know about each other and they live in different countries
throughout the world since I was in the military and travelled
throughout different countries). According to all of them, my soul is
over 3,000 years old and most of my lives I was in the mercenary field.
From Drudic wizardry, to Arabic mercenary during the hanging of Jesus
Christ (I believed I was passing by when he was sentenced and was
brought to some kind of hill to be hung on a cross in Italy), to
Japanese Ninjitsu, midevil mercenary, World War 1 and 2 and even up to
today for being in the military (I got out with honorable discharge
back in 2003). I have been in connection with Germany a lot in my soul
and found out I was one of the German Mercenary Generals hired by
the Turkish Army to help aid the Turks to wipe out Count Dracul and his
Army in the 1400's in Transylvania Romania.
One thing I learned about past lives is that
we ALWAYS learn from our mistakes to better improve ourselves in the
future. For PRIME example, I do not have any hate towards the
Jewish nation anymore even though I was a "monster" back then. I
have Jewish friends and they know about me and my past lives and
forgave me. They are one of my best friends now! However, I do get the
sense of finding out ways to "permanent eliminate" terrorism and have
had nightmares about how "evil" I can do it since I have done it in the
past before in reality, but since I know the outcome of what would
happen (Nuremberg Trials), it is not my choice anymore to cause harm
towards people. I let other people decide the fate of the world. I am
now an artist, a computer programmer, and enjoying life now.
HOPEFULLY soon I will not be damned to this world anymore after over
3,000 years and I can FINALLY rest in peace after this lifetime.
*
I came upon this site years ago and can't remember
if I wrote you. Since I don't see my story here, I'm going to assume I
meant to but didn't. lol Anyway... I've had two dreams that have really
stuck with me. The emotions that went along with them were so real, and
the women in the dreams, well, I felt so connected to, that it does
make me wonder.
The first one was, I believe, somewhere in the
western part of the US. It had to be at least 75 years ago given the
furniture in my surroundings, but I can't be sure. This was more of a
dream by observation, meaning, I was watching it take place but wasn't
really "in" it. Anyway, there was a woman lying in bed. She looked much
like I do now, with ashy brown hair and pale skin, though her face was
a bit wider than mine. She was wearing a long white nightgown. The room
was furnished in wood, old, worn wood. I take it this woman was poor.
She was just waking up and, although I could not read her mind, I
sensed despair. She was very unhappy, tired with life and couldn't
imaging yet another day. She appeared exhausted in general. Although
I'm not sure where this took place, the feeling I got was, like I said,
in the western US. As for this dream, I can't remember much else.
The next dream is one that really bothered me - and
still does. In this dream I was actually a participant and felt
everything, and thought all the thoughts, that the woman was feeling
and thinking. It was horrible. The setting was, I believe, Ireland. To
the right, in the far off distance, were green rolling hills, possibly
higher hills even farther away - almost mountainous but not quite. In
the opposite direction, off to the left, miles and miles from those
hills, were shops all in a row, meaning, they were lined up and
connected to each other in a long, straight line. I learned later,
after some research, about the row houses in Ireland - something I
never knew about before. Smack in between the hills to the right and
row houses (which were old on the outside but sold surprisingly modern
items) to the left was an old cabin, or shack even. First I remember
being at the shops, and after that the scene changed. I was in the old
cabin crying hysterically begging my mom not to give our dog away.
Screaming and crying, "Please, please don't give her away, she's my
baby, please don't give my baby away I love her!" Now, the dog in the
dream was my current dog in real life - in this life I mean. In my
dream she was there and I was begging my mom not to give her away, and
I felt so much despair. It felt as if I had been shot in the heart -
the emotional pain was so bad. But when I woke up the reality hit me.
My mind used my dog (whom I loved dearly and has since passed on) in
place of a real baby. Just as in the old row houses, instead of seeing
old furnishings I saw modern ones. Anyway, the feeling I got when I
woke up was that, in that old place, I was being forced to give up a
baby.
What's odd about this is that I've always felt
a connection to the UK. Not necessarily Ireland, but the rolling hills,
fog covered treetops, old cabins, etc. Mostly, as a child, I was
focused on England - but I suppose the scenery in the countryside is
close enough. Also, I've always had a phobia of male/female relations
as far as reproducing is concerned. Part of it could be a fear of
childbirth, but also there's a great fear of loss. When I see women
with infants I become very nervous, very stressed, and when I hear of a
woman who has lost a child I cry my eyes out as if my heart is breaking
along with hers. Even though I have a hard time believing in the
supernatural, I have to admit this would explain a lot, i mean, if it's
real. Years later, when reading Angela's
Ashes, I could barely get through a page without my throat
tightening up. The description of the scenery, the society, the way
life was back then, made me so tense that I actually had to stop
reading for a bit. To this day, reading about Irish history, any part
of it, makes me all tense. - Anon
*
More
Multiple
Lives: II - III
- IV - V
- VI - VII
- VII
