Past Lives – Fragments

On The African Plains

In a group past life regression session I found myself falling from the sky over vast green plains dotted with low trees into the body of a figure below. I am one among a hunting party of men.

We appear to be pre-modern man. Our faces are broad and our foreheads slope … feet and hands are large and quite hairy.

We are pursuing an antelope or deer type of animal with wooden spears. This animal has long sharp horns or antlers curving back away from the head. We surround the animal making noise and gesturing with arms to cause it to turn in such a way that we can stab at it … he bucks and bolts towards me, head down. I jump out of the way, but not far or fast enough and get gored in the side, knocking the breath out of me. I feel unconcerned — my immediate and lasting thought is for the remaining members to capture the meat for the families back home.

I struggle on the ground for a few moments before hoisting myself up into a nearby tree – knowing I will be eaten by lions eventually, but from here I can see how the hunt plays out and I am thrilled that they are successful. I can clearly see my hands and feet … and I see the blood running out of the gash in my side down along the tree towards the ground … feel myself becoming light-headed.

—————–

I don’t recognize the individuals from this lifetime in a current context.

In A Cabin

I’m alone in a cabin somewhere in North America. This could be the late 1700’s or 1800’s and it feels like I’m an immigrant as I feel far away from home and family. I have a husband, but he has left me saying he was going to fetch supplies, but I know better. He has been gone far too long and this coughing won’t stop. Wracked by uncontrollable coughing spasms I’m spitting up blood constantly, and there is no food to eat in the house. I can barely drag myself to the stream to get water. I know I am dying so I decide to leave my tiny house in pristine condition and I set about cleaning. I put everything in very tidy order, make sure the bed is just so and cover it with the patchwork quilt I finished not long ago. It was started by my mother and handed off to me to complete. When I know I cannot go on any longer I put on my linen bed dress and climb into bed for the last time … cover myself neatly with the quilt, handkerchief in hand in case I start coughing again (I don’t want to leave any blood stains). Eventually I fall into an exhausted sleep and drift away … glad to be dead of this disappointing and lonely life.

—————–

Maybe because the resentment might still be strong, I haven’t come to know who the husband was in this lifetime relative to my current situation.

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