When I was little, I used to tell stories. About things that happened in “my other family.”
It confused my parents at first. They asked what I meant.
“You know. My other family. Where I lived before I lived here. Before I was born.” Because I knew I had to be somewhere before I was born. I didn’t come out of nothing!
I thought back, and decided, I’d lived with my other family. The one before this one. I could see them in my head. My other family was Chinese, by the way. Everything about my other family–and especially that they were Chinese–amused my father to no end.
“What about before that family?” he asked.
“I had another family! But it’s hard to remember; it was a long time ago.” It was! Three lifetimes ago, at least.
I had many, many anecdotes from my other family, and the more I talked, the more I remembered. The stories would come especially when I’d lay on the grass and gaze up in the clouds.
I’d see figures, Cloud Spirits as I thought of them, some from my other family, and others just passers-by. I could only catch little bits of their world peeking over the edge of those clouds. But if I let my attention drift into the scene, I still knew what was going on. Sometimes, they’d put on plays, tell stories or teach me lessons. I spent a lot of time gazing up at the Cloud Spirits. I always felt a sense of peace, communing with them.
“Mom doesn’t like it when I tell stories about my other family, does she?” I’d whisper to Dad, in conspiratorial tones. “She thinks I’m making it up. But I’m not! I am not making it up. How would Mom know? She wasn’t there. I remember.”
Eventually, I stopped telling stories about my other family. It disturbed my mom enough to avoid, and I became less sure of myself. At some point, I stopped paying attention to the Cloud Spirits. I stopped talking to my invisible friends, or having the conversations in my head with people who weren’t there. I stopped a lot of things, because it seemed it was time for me to grow up.
And it’s taken me most of my life to start reclaiming that. Part of the reason is I have a husband who can hear me. Thanks to him and my father for listening, regardless of what they saw for themselves.
Happy Father’s Day! How is yours?
That is a very sweet story!
I am very glad that you have a father and a husband that support you…
It makes ALL the difference!
xx
That is a very sweet story!
I am very glad that you have a father and a husband that support you…
It makes ALL the difference!
xx
Cool story, Dixie!!!
When I was a kid, I watched the clouds too. I was looking for people, but I don’t think I saw them……
Glad your dad and hubby believe…..
Oh, Dad definitely didn’t believe me; it just amused him. And my husband has different beliefs than me, too, but is very respectful of mine. It’s really given me a lot of space to explore my own path and feel supported throughout. I’m very grateful.
Oh my word Dixie! That’s incredible! Have you written down any memories of this Past Life for posterity? I’m so glad your Dad and Husband listened. : )
Do you have any items representing honor for that life? Have you visited China?
When I had the PLR, I went through the process of dying and spoke of peace and seeing my family on the other side. Then I re-entered the ‘blue mist’ and the next life was in Germany, but she pulled me back. Not sure if the time-line was linear or if my Higher Mind was taking me to the lives that caused carryover trauma for processing and closure.
Thank you for this. Funnily enough, I listened to the PLR again on Friday and it’s stunning how much emotion still comes up. I do wish she would have guided me to continue crying, to release more under hypnosis.
Thanks again!!!
Jinjan, it’s been soooooo long ago that I put this all away, I don’t have much memory of it. Even as much as this story, it’s only really starting to come back to me, you know? I’m thinking of all this stuff in a different context that I ever have before and it’s different, processing it.
Have never visited China. We do have some Chinese dragons, ’round the house. We like dragons.
What a sweet story & I wonder if you ended up at the wrong “house” this lifetime around. Maybe your mom didn’t like the stories because it reminded her of her “other” family & it may not have been all good memories.
When my daughter was 10ish she used to say “remember when I was a little indian girl?” & talked about her dogs & horses. We also got the story about when she lived in England & was an orphan stable-boy and took care of a huge black horse & explained her stable duties. Horses have been a part of all her lifetimes, including this one.
I’m very luck to be married to someone who now understands & accepts not everything can be seen to be explained. Isn’t it nice to have someone beside you who really “gets” you? I’m very blessed.
I remember when I was a little Indian girl
Josi,
Maybe ya’ll were in the same tribe!
Nah, I don’t think I went to the wrong family. I think there were very specific lessons I got from growing up the way I did that I wouldn’t want to be without now.
And I know why Mom didn’t like the stories–to her, they were lies. She didn’t want to raise a liar.
That’s very cool about your daughter.
omg, you know I’m eating these stories up. I had a “other” family. I could even remember their last name, Anderson. And my “other” dad smoked a pipe
omg, you know I’m eating these stories up. I had a “other” family. I could even remember their last name, Anderson. And my “other” dad smoked a pipe
“Even as much as this story, it’s only really starting to come back to me, you know? I’m thinking of all this stuff in a different context that I ever have before and it’s different, processing it.”
I hope you’ll be able to share your experiences after you’re done processing. I’m reading Michael Newton’s book about Lives Between Lives and it’s blowing my mind. Gonna have to collect his other books too.
During the PLR, I ‘met’ my Higher Guides for wisdom and direction. From reading his book it sounds like I was reunited with the Council of the Elders. There were 10 of them and my main guide (who was the brightest) is Gabriel. I laughed a lot during this portion, outright giggling. He joked around with me. It was a TRIP!!!! I haven’t really shared anything about this portion of my reading, because I know the reactions will have a wide range. I’m not afraid to die anymore, the entire experience provided me with tremendous comfort.
That’s beautiful, Jinjan. I know what you mean about reactions–that has kept my mouth shut about a lot, for a long time! But I’m worrying over it less all the time.
Me too Dixie. As Popeye said, “I yam what I yam.”
Me too Dixie. As Popeye said, “I yam what I yam.”
I love this…my daughter, when she was 3ish would talk about going back “home/dixiblog/domains/afoolsjourney.com/public_html.” I could tell by her tone that she wasn’t talking about our home/dixiblog/domains/afoolsjourney.com/public_html. The more we would chat during these moments, the more she’d defined her home/dixiblog/domains/afoolsjourney.com/public_html, she called it “Baby Land”. And she felt she had gotten “stuck” here by accident. She was just coming down to get some dessert, and she got caught in the screen. Now my son is 3, going to be 4 in a month and he’s been keeping to his claim for a good year now, that he has another mother who lives in a orange house. He’ll chat away about his “orange house family” and my daughter and I love asking questions about them. One time he said he had a bunch of money at his “orange house” and we could have some if we wanted. Now if we could only find that “orange house”!!