A Love Transcending...

In 2015 I documented a story about an individual, who remains lovingly embedded in my heart. Fifteen years had passed before I was able to sit down to write, knowing I would experience a flood of emotions I had safely locked away in a special part of my soul. I wrote of Glen's unanticipated death on Valentines Day in the year 2000, and how my world changed forever more.

Glen and I shared a connection I cannot even begin to describe, which even in death remains strong and in tact. I don't feel the need to question or make sense of our union. It just 'is' and feels completely natural and beautiful. In fact, if there was ever any doubt floating around in my head regarding life after death, Glen's passing greatly surpassed any proof my belief system required. I am certain we had met before, possibly often, in another time, another place.

I had always been intrigued with the concept of reincarnation and diverse past lives, and during the year 2001, I stumbled across a book that took my breath away. This book is called 'Many Lives, Many Masters', by Dr. Brian Weiss, and is filled with incredible, powerful, personal experiences and valuable insights. I related and aligned wholeheartedly to its contents.

In the nineties, when the book was published, Dr. Weiss was a traditional psychotherapist, stemming from a scientific background. When he believed his methods of therapy were failing, he turned to hypnosis. One particular day Dr. Weiss was astonished and sceptical when a client began to recall past life traumas that seemed to hold the key to her present reoccurring problems. I was amazed! During this era I too was counselling people with problematic issues and welcomed the idea of hypnosis. I was excited to think how easily people could heal themselves.

This book fascinated me to no end and I had to find someone in Melbourne who had been educated by Dr. Weiss, as I knew he conducted seminars and workshops both nationally and internationally.

It wasn't long before I found a professional, who had recently returned from America under his guidance. I didn't hesitate to phone for an appointment time!

I remember parking outside an extravagant house in an upper class Melbourne suburb. Sitting in my car I questioned how hypnosis would work on me. I was hardly able to achieve falling into a meditative state, so how could I possibly be hypnotised?! However, I quickly attempted to put an end to my uncertainty by remembering there was surely a good reason I had arrived at this point and to have faith in the process. I proceeded to ring the door bell.

I was warmly greeted by a middle aged man with a lovely, approachable manner, who instantly put me at ease. We sat down in his impressive study for an introductory chat, and I explained my purpose for the consultation was to explore a past life regression. I disclosed I had read Dr. Weiss's fascinating book and was familiar with his technique, and that I was a little concerned I may not be the most cooperative person to regress, but certainly not through a lack of enthusiasm. The practitioner reacted with confidence and eagerness to commence.

I sat in a comfortable arm chair, eyes closed, listening to this man's quiet, rhythmic voice directing me to sink further and further into a relaxed state. I'm not sure how long this process took, but eventually he counted backwards from ten very slowly, and as he arrived at number one he asked me to walk through a doorway, which through visualisation, I was standing in front of. Curiously I proceeded and instantly knew, without yet witnessing, I had entered into a strange, yet familiar environment.

I then heard the therapist's voice prompting me to look down at my feet to decipher my footwear, if any at all. From this one gesture, my mind suddenly opened up to a vivid scene, as if it were a movie on a large screen and I was one of the starring actors!

I certainly was wearing shoes, but none I had any memory of owning. They were very simple, brown, leather slip-ons, complimenting the plain, long, brown tunic and creamy colored shirt/top I wore. My dark hair was tied up in a long braid hanging down to my waist, which was accentuated by some sort of string. I was of medium height and build and in my mid twenties. Happily married, with a son aged eight and a little girl aged six, I lived a busy, tiresome lifestyle, but a simple, happy one. I seemed carefree and content.

I felt this was an English Medieval existence and I was a peasant farmer's wife, residing in a small, quaint village consisting of a cluster of basic homes of straw, mud and wood. I sensed our humble, close, farming community efficiently and calmly went about the day, while living off the land and supporting each other as much as possible. It felt an uncomplicated, satisfying and rewarding existence.

After exploring my lifestyle a little more in detail, the therapist asked I move forward in time to a particular, significant episode, which may have occurred...

The scene changed to a pitch black night. Our village was quiet, my beloved family sound asleep. Suddenly there was shouting, screaming, children crying and the galloping of horses to be heard. The night had come alight with fire balls thrown onto the roofs of village houses. People and animals were running in all directions, many being killed by vicious horseman. The cool air was filled with the stench of smoke and fear, and death.

I sensed the ambush was a jest to the soldiers, who happened to be passing through. Their laughter echoed across the land as they killed in cold blood. Our men on foot tried their best to protect the village, but many died instantly by the sword. There was bloody chaos everywhere.

My husband screamed for me to take the children to the river as fast as I could and frantically rushed outside to assist his peers. I feared for all our safety and hurriedly lifted my daughter up onto my hip, while I grabbed my son's hand, and we ran as fast as we could through a paddock to the water's edge, urging other women with their children to follow. There I left my offspring in the care of a neighboring friend and cautiously and quickly made my way back to assist the weaker.

As I hurriedly hooked my arm through an elderly woman's, I looked up and saw my husband not far away, desperately avenging the unexpected attackers. His back was turned when I spotted him. Then, in a split second he faced me, and before I could even think to warn him, a horseman came charging through the blood bath and swung his sword forcefully, striking it into my husband's back as he rode past. As if in slow motion, my beloved's eyes pierced into mine as he fell to his death onto the ground. It was the first time I had seen his face clearly throughout the regression and I instantly recognised those distinctive, deep, dark eyes to be Glen's. Oh my god!

The therapist again quickly prompted me to move forward in time to shield me from the emotions of shock and grief, which accompanied this event. He asked me to determine how I experienced my own death in this lifetime..

From the day I buried my spouse, I lost my will to live. I knew I had responsibilities I needed to honor and spent the remaining years numbly and half heartedly farming, supporting the elderly and assisting young mothers, who had also tragically lost their husbands. I loved, taught and cared for my children, and when they were old enough to fend for themselves and to marry, I was satisfied my purpose was complete. I fell sick at the age of thirty-six and had no desire to fight my illness, which quickly consumed me. However, predominantly I died of a broken heart, as I never recovered from the grief of the sudden, violent trauma of losing my precious mate.

I remember the empathetic practitioner decided then it was time to assist me to return to the room. Once I was fully present, we debriefed and discussed the phenomenon at length and all the assorted emotions I was feeling, and placed them into a perspective I could easily comprehend, easily digest. However, all I could think was I had lost Glen not once, but twice.

As far as being hypnotised, I obviously carried a preconceived idea of how deep one sinks into self. I have to admit I was completely aware of... well,... everything during the process. I was most certainly in a relaxed state, however whether I'd call it trance-inducing is arguable… and if I'm completely honest, I came out of the experience questioning whether I had imagined the story I revealed, or whether it really did rise from deep within my subconscience? Although, where would I have suddenly pulled this experience from, when throughout my life, I'd hardly given a second thought to medieval times? The scene unfolded so easily too! I didn't then and still don't believe today I am gifted to possess a quick, creative imagination such as this.

So yes, I am convinced this event is an authentic lifetime I have experienced with Glen and it also demonstrated my intuition was correct.

'I had indeed known and loved Glen in a previous lifetime.'

Now that I have written this particular account, which is one I have been meaning to write for years, it has only just occurred to me, through the written word, how many similarities I have discovered within both this documented past life and my life today:

• I wore thick, dark, braided hair down to my waist until I was in my late thirties.
• I am a farmer's wife and reside within a supportive, farming community.
• I adore living on the land with many animals.
• I chose to have our home built of timber and painted inside and out with earthy, neutral tones.
• I love all natural materials and colors.
• I've passionately and joyfully assisted others ever since I can remember.
• On both accounts of Glen's passing, I felt powerless to save him.
• I've had to deal with Glen's sudden death a second time and if I'm honest, I'm still not much good at it.

I'm astounded, that's quite a list! So what's my lesson in all of this?

I have always imagined, if we don't succeed in mastering our particular chosen life lessons through our intended situations, we may again choose to be presented with similar lessons via different scenarios. This may eventuate in the same lifetime or another – until we acquire valuable, insight and growth.

I've sat contemplating my pre-existence with Glen over the last few days, digging deep to reach the truth, my truth. I feel I must resolve this lesson, as I do not want to possibly have to face Glen's death a third time, in yet another physicality. I couldn't bear it.

There are many contrasting themes, which unfolded throughout both my lives with Glen, however I feel I may have finally arrived at a significant common denominator. After he was buried in this life, I again grieved quietly and in solitude for a long time. I was extremely independent and thankfully lived on my own, as I looked forward to and appreciated the privacy at the end of each day. My responsibilities entailed challenging work commitments and keeping an eye on my family, and that was pretty much it at the time. Most evenings were free to mourn without the daytime camouflage.

I know a part of me died with Glen that awful day in the year 2000, and my world took a major turn. Throughout my life I have consistently possessed a certain drive, and reliably fulfilled expectations, or assisted where I could. While this has continued post Glen, the energy around this has somewhat modified.

I've persistently loved, cared for, nurtured, honored my jobs, tasks, roles, what have you, throughout the many diverse roads life has taken me down over these last seventeen years, however I now carry a subtle, underlying edge of despondency towards myself – similar direction as in my past life. It's not that I believe I am unworthy and put myself through an all-together unhealthy wringer, I could just do a whole lot better if I chose to.

I guess I care a little less knowing, with quiet anticipation, eventually a reunion awaits with all I have soulfully loved and lost in this lifetime, and who are all minding a small, personal piece of my heart until I return home. Surely others, who have loved and lost, feel this way too. It's not that I want to accelerate my homebound journey, I just don't wish to prolong it... and I'm guessing, this just could be my most predominant lesson I need to grasp!

I actually do believe there's no reason to miss my loved ones, for we will be reunited again in no time, life is short… and why not give myself as much love and respect as I do others? Isn't it time I nurture my mind, body and soul holistically and whole-heartedly? Isn't my body my temple? I tend to ignore this fact often.

I know if I aspire to feel my best on all levels (whatever benchmark my best is at the time), the life lessons I planned to conquer in this lifetime, will flow toward me with ease and grace - however they choose to appear. I am not to waste a single second of this existence, and if I heed the signs and guidance always around me and become accordingly proactive, I will return home one day with great personal, subjective achievements – ones I had intended to fulfil all along, I'm sure.

I know this to be my truth. My challenge is to fuel it with powerful, passionate emotions, which in turn will encourage creative, physical motivation to live my life to the fullest, while perhaps appreciating my underlying grief to be a crucial stepping stone towards enlightenment. Maybe I will even thank it one day, who knows? This way I will surely, successfully complete my lessons… and just maybe, I will be spared of losing Glen again.

'You are not here by

accident or by some

coincidence of nature. You

are a spiritual being

learning lessons of love in

this earth school.'

By Dr. Brian Weiss.