Dr. Joe Dispenza asks this question in Becoming Supernatural, Session 7, on Gaia. He asks it when he is recalling a series of “coincidences” that a woman experienced while buying a car. I was, obviously, already interested in what he had to say – I had already watched Sessions 1-6…lol – but for me, this confirmed that Dr. Dispenza’s research was something I could get behind.
I didn’t just wake up one morning and say, “Good Morning self, today we are going to pursue a healthy relationship with God.” Lol…I came to this point in a much more round about manner. God has always been a part of my life. My mom’s mom was a devote Catholic her entire life. My mom was still Catholic when I was born, so I was baptized Catholic and attended Sunday school at their church when I was very young, but by the time I was old enough to take my first communion, my mom had moved on to other religions. She’s basically been through most of the Christian religions, though she never tried Judaism (that would have been way too much work…lol), she even had the Jehovah’s Witnesses spending an afternoon a week with her. So, we, as a family, never got established in a church, and I have a natural distrust for organized religion that has kept me from getting established with one as an adult.
Funny story. My mom is one of the sweetest, kindest people you could ever meet. I can remember the first time I heard her yell “damn it”…lmao…I was a teenager, and I about passed out (and, no, she wasn’t yelling at me). My mom has also been ready to meet God for as long as I can remember. Not, like, suicidal meet God, but like how much longer do I have to wait for the rapture to get here. Even now, with her dementia, when I was telling her about the series The Chosen, she immediately asked me if it could tell her when Jesus was returning. She was really disappointed, too, when I told her “soon”, and then explained how Jesus defined that on the show…lol.
Occasionally though, she could get a little kooky with her religious beliefs. When we were kids, she would watch The 700 Club every weekday. I’m guessing that’s where she got this idea, but one day when I was seven or so, she pulled out my brother’s Fisher-Price record player and grabbed my Dad’s Eagles Hotel California album. She swore me to secrecy, and then began turning the record backwards on the Fisher-Price record player, because she was sure that there was a message from the Devil there!
Now, let’s look at this with logic and reason for a minute…lol. If you are a good Christian, why would you want to hear a message from the Devil?!? In her mind, I believe she wanted to hear it for herself, so she would be justified in getting the album out of the house, but my dad probably would have taken some convincing before tossing one of his favorites. Also, to involve your kids, and make them swear not to tell their dad?!? My dad knows my mom, so I’m sure he just would have just shaken his head, and maybe hollered a bit if she had damaged the album, but no real harm would have come from it.
Sorry, I digress, I just remember that so clearly, and it's definitely part of the reason that I have shied away from organized religion over the years.
I have always been different. My parents used to say that I had a vivid imagination, sometimes an overactive imagination, and that I was an old soul. My mom has told people that I knew more about the world and being an adult by the time I was six, than she did. Something clicked, and it began to make sense to me, when I read a romance novel titled Remembrance by Jude Deveraux. It’s a story about a novelist who creates this hero that she’s in love with, only to learn that she didn’t create him, she’s remembering him from a past life.
It was then that I started to suspect this was not my first life. I now believe that I have had many, spanning at least 450 years or more. Back in the 1990’s, I was blessed to spend some time in Scotland with my mom and my Gram (dad’s mom). My mom was unexplainably drawn to Scotland, and to bag pipe music in particular, when she was pregnant with me. She said she loved to hear it, but that it always made her emotional, and she would cry. I was also drawn to Scotland. I love the history, but I cannot tell you why Scotland, and not England, France, Italy, wherever, it’s always been Scotland, so when the opportunity for us to take a “girls’ trip” presented itself, there was no question where we were headed - it was Scotland!
We flew into northern England, hopped in a rental car, and we headed North. We spent the first few nights in Edinburgh. On the first day, we visited Edinburgh Castle, and made our way down the Royal Mile, stopping to see St. Giles Cathedral, and we eventually ended up at The Palace of Holyroodhouse.
You may have heard of Holyroodhouse, since it is still used by the British Royal Family today. Mary Queen of Scots also spent most of her short reign there. It was there that Queen Mary’s private secretary, David Rizzio, was murdered by her husband, Lord Darnley, and his coconspirators, which could be said was the beginning of the end of her rule.
I was excited to be there, much more than the Castle, because there was so much history that interested me housed in the Palace of Holyroodhouse. In addition to Queen Mary’s time here, Bonnie Prince Charlie also set up court at the Palace for six weeks in in 1745, and they had artifacts on display from both rulers!
The strangest thing happened to me though, as we entered the courtyard. I started to have flashbacks. Every time I closed my eyes, I was there in the past. The only way that I can explain it is that I was remembering. I was riding in a carriage, and I was staring out the window with another young woman. It was cold, and we had to keep wiping the fog off of the window that we were creating with our breaths. In my memories, the fountain in the courtyard was flowing as the carriage pulled around it and up to the front door, and it was night, so there were blazing torches lining the front of the Palace.
Then, I would open my eyes, and be right back in the present. It was a beautiful spring day, the sun was shining, and I was walking – not riding in a carriage…lol. The fountain was dry, and there were no torches blazing on the building.
I had to stop for a minute to try to make sense of it. My mom knew something was up, and when I told her what was happening, she just smiled. I honestly don’t know what she thought about it, she never said, and I cannot ask her now, but she didn’t try to tell me I was nuts, she just let me work through it, so I was grateful for that.
We toured the Palace, the grounds, and the ruins of the Abbey. I would strongly encourage you to do the same if you are ever in Edinburgh, but we had other places to see, so I didn’t get to go back for a second visit. I can’t help but wonder though, even today, if the same thing would happen again if I did?
On our way out of Edinburgh, we stopped in Linlithgow, to see the tomb of King Robert the Bruce. He is buried in Linlithgow Abbey. Ironically, or not…lol, he was officially recognized as the rightful King of Scotland at Holyrood Abbey in 1328. Linlithgow Abbey was split into two sections. The first, where the King’s tomb is, is a beautiful working church. Behind is another section though, that is (or was then) unfinished. It had the same stone walls, and gorgeous stained-glass windows, but there was nothing more than a gravel floor inside.
That unfinished room was the most peaceful place that I have ever been. My mom and I both felt it immediately as we walked through the doors. It hit us like a wave! My Gram, however, did not feel it…lol…and couldn’t understand why I was laying on the gravel floor and refusing to move. Fortunately, there was an old cemetery right outside of the door, so we sent her out to look at the stones, giving us a few more minutes to enjoy the sanctuary.
So how can I have memories of a place that I have never been in this lifetime, and feel soul deep peace in a building on the other side of the Atlantic from where I had spent the first twenty something years of my life?
Around the same time, my cousin passed away unexpectedly from a tragic accident. For years, I had had visions, premonitions, I don’t know what to call them, but there was something warning me to prepare for my brother’s passing. My brother was in the military during all of this, so I assumed that it was my “over active imagination” at work again, reaching for worst case scenarios based on his situation at that time. After my cousin passed though, I realized the premonitions had been about him. He was born and raised next door to me his entire life, and we (me and my brother, and he and his siblings) had been raised like the one big, happy family that we were, so he was much more like a brother to me than not.
It was then that I began to realize that what I had been taught was an “overactive imagination”, was so much more than that. I believe that I was remembering bits and pieces of my past lives, and that there was more to this life than what we can see with our eyes. Call it crazy, call me crazy, but the more I have dug into it, the more strongly my belief has become that these things weren't a product of an overactive imagination, but my intuition, and I just had to learn to listen to it.
This is going to be a ridiculously long post, and I need to think a bit more about how I want to express my thoughts in this next part, so I will pick from here next time.
Much love to all of you, with Hope and Faith!