Reincarnation, Parrots and Female Fishermen

Jim Whitaker
"Hill of Beans" Author, Columnist,
Staff Writer Cynic Online Magazine has kindly allowed me to share his email to me:

When I was a kid I thought reincarnation was when you returned the evaporated milk can to the store and they refilled it. Come to think of it, reincarnation is something like that.

Reincarnation is the belief that when you die your body decomposes but your soul, spirit, essence, psyche -all right, whatever you consider you have - lives on. Then you are reborn in another body or form. If you’ve lived a wicked or at least non-exemplary life, you may return as a slug in a salt mine, a hopelessly tone-deaf wannabe on American Idol “performing” in front of Simon, or some other unenviable creation suffering in just retribution for your previous life indiscretions. That’ll learn you. If you’ve been first-rate, though, you get the reward of coming back in a higher status of life. Maybe you’ll be Simon. That’ll learn you, too.

So I got to thinking – now there’s something that’ll weaken the nation. A lot of people tell me what I am, but I wondered what I supposedly have been. Funny, I don’t remember any previous lives, just some of this one. Between you and me, I can barely remember what happened yesterday or even this morning.

What was I writing about just now anyway?

Oh, yeah.

In fact, researchers say, very few people overtly remember their past lives at all. Recollections of earlier experiences have to be coaxed out of them under hypnosis. Which makes me ask the question: If you can’t remember in your present life the lessons you learned in a past life to help you do better in this life and a future life, what’s the point of living the past life? There’s a sentence with a past life all its own.

Regardless, I wanted to know – without the hypnosis, thank you – so I used an online past life analysis generator. Hey, that’s what they call the thing.

You type in the date you were born. Then you hit the “Press for Diagnosis” button. Sooooo…

I was female. That’s OK, except I was born in 1650 in the territory of modern Central Russia. Somehow being a female 357 years ago in Russia isn’t very appealing. No offense intended to females or Russians. It’s just not my part of the world and too far on the other side of the 19^th Amendment.

On the brighter side, uh-huh, I was a warrior, a hunter, a fisherman or an executor of sacrifices. I’m either killing people or I’m gutting fish all day long. Who could ask for more? Offense intended to executors of sacrifices.

Not liking the diagnosis, I surfed to another site. This one gave me a “mirror.” Instructions told me to gaze into the mirror and say “Mirror, mirror in front of me, what is it that you see? Tell me who I was before, was I rich or poor? I’m…” you get the drift. 

Then comes a warning: If you don’t say those words to the mirror, your reading may not be accurate. Why do I think that whoever is on the other side of that mirror is having a real good laugh? I’d never say those words.

“Are you talking to your computer again?”

“No, dear.”

Anyway, I clicked the mirror.

Hey, I used to be the University of Phoenix online.

Oh, something to look at while I’m waiting.

Here we go. I “may have” used to be a politician, leading and fighting for the rights of others. What? No graft? No payoffs? No kickbacks? No interns? That’s enough of that website.

Perhaps, I decided, I’d get more satisfying results pursuing a future life. What will I be next time?

This assessment asks a series of questions such as how you treat people, are you likable, how vain you are, how social you are, how you react to criticism, if you return what you borrow from neighbors, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Perhaps it was the question about borrowing from neighbors. I answered that I never borrow from neighbors until after dark while their dog is asleep.

A parrot. According to the test results, I’m going to be a parrot.

A regurgitating vain birdbrain fit for a cage and bombarding old newspapers. What an insult. Those people who set up this analysis? Why, I’ll hunt them down and I’ll fight them. I’ll gut them like a fish. I’ll …

Oh, excuse me, I must have been thinking about something from a past life.

*************************************************************************************

I'd like to thank Jim  for allowing me to use his offering today as it fit so nicely with my topic.  As promised, I said I'd share with you another "ghostly" experience:

My grandmother passed away and I traveled to Southern California for the funeral.  My granny had shared a home with my mom and on the night of the funeral, Mom and I were trying to recoup from such a traumatic and emotional day with a little television.  My grandmother loved "Ben Gay" for her aches and pains.  I'd almost say it had become her fragrance of choice.  Mom's TV was upstairs in the loft, and I decided to go downstairs for some ice cream.  Halfway down, I passed through a aromatic fog of Ben Gay that burned my eyes.  

"What are you putting Ben Gay on," I called back up to mom.

"What are you talking about?" she responded.

The cloud dissipated as quickly as it had formed, and I suddenly knew that Granny was checking in to make sure we were okay.  I slept in her bed that night, between the sheets that she always sprinkled with talcum powder, and I knew there was no place I'd rather be. 

I offer my thanks to Dave Donelson for his creative genius, and ask that he forgive my "borrowing" of his appropriate artwork.  :)

Do You Believe in Spirits?

The paranormal genre is all the rage right now.  Most of it fiction and fantasy, but there are those of us among you who believe the paranormal is indeed fact.  Normally, one wouldn't go around confessing to dwelling among the spirits, but there are those who, for whatever reason, have been gifted with the ability to deal with the "other realm" without fear and with the intention of helping earthbound spirits find their way to the other side.

Years ago, I worked as a clerk in a nursery/landscaping company, and my co-worker was an awesome woman.  She and her sister, a local school teacher, belonged to a group called Astro-Soul.  Listening to my friend talk about the training sessions and their goals for assisting lost spirits fascinated me--so much so that I agreed to attend a "healing." 

I'm not sure what I expected, but I did know that both Pat and her sister were upstanding members of the community and I trusted them.  I'd worked with Pat for over a year and knew her quite well...her speech, her mannerisms.  I think because of my exposure to scary TV shows, I believed I would walk into a dark room with a crystal ball and get immediate goosebumps.  The opposite was what I found.  The "healing" was held in a friend's house--in a light and cheery living room where a card table and four chairs sat in the middle.  In the center of the table was a simple crystal bowl filled with water.

Before I relay my experience further, let me tell you that Astro-Soul is still a viable organization.  My interaction happened over thirty years ago, and it wasn't until a gifted friend shared her website with me, that I remembered my "healing" as though it were yesterday. As proof that the good work still goes on,  I found this on their Internet site, listed as their goals:

Understand the relevance of Past Lifetimes to this Lifetime
Unfold a deeper working relationship with your Spirit Guides
Develop your metaphysical sensitivity
Participate in in-depth healing sessions

My understanding is the members undergo training sessions that allow them to relax into a trance state, thus inviting a spirit to use their body for communication purposes.  Okay...so I was skeptical.  First, I couldn't image inviting a spirit to share my body, and I wasn't even sure I believed in "ghosts."  But that wasn't my function at this meeting.  Through the process I was to determine just how many "people" actually came to the meeting in my car although I declared I came alone. *smile*

At the beginning of the session, our hostess explained that though we may not see or hear the spirits that cling to us for various reasons, they are drawn to us because we represent someone familiar and provide comfort.  We all consist of "energy" and this is what a spirit represents--an energetic field that can drain our own.  That made sense. I walk around feeling drained all the time, so by that theory alone, I must have a bunch of  "clinger-oners."

I watched a few healings take place, where a guest sat at the table with two trained Astro-Soul members.  The guest was asked to place their hands over the water while one of the members served as interpreter and the other, a receptor. (These are my terms...not the organizations...in my attempt to explain what I perceived.)  I was engrossed in what I witnessed, but it was hard to make a connection without being a participant and relating the results to my own experiences.  So, I paid the nominal fee. (Yes, they do charge because the money goes back into the organization to continue the ability to enlighten others.)

What happened was amazing and made me a believer.  Of course, you're going to have to wait until tomorrow because this blog is running way too long to keep a reader's interest, and if I've learned anything about being an author, it's always leave a hook.

I invite you back tomorrow when I share what I found out about my past lives.

Time for Spooky Tales

My grandmother was a large part of my life. I stayed with her and my grandpa during every school break because she spoiled me. There, I was the only child and not one of four, and I loved her crazy stories and jokes. If I was with her, I was happy.

Because my grandpa had such violent nightmares, Granny and I shared her bed, and I became very used to the familiar smell of Ben Gay she used on her arthritic joints. I associated the medicinal odor with her--comforting, warming and safe.

Grandpa was the first to pass away, and Granny moved in with my mother. When Granny went to join Grandpa, I flew down from No. Cal to So. Cal to help my mother with the arrangements. The night after the funeral, Mom and I were upstairs in the loft watching TV and trying to rationalize the loss of someone we both loved so much. For whatever reason, I decided to go downstairs for something, and halfway down, I walked into a wafting cloud of familiarity.

I paused. "Are you using Ben Gay?", I yelled back up to mom.

"No," she answered, with a definite questioning tone.

"Never mind," I called out. How could I explain what I suspected? Would Mom think me daft...I thought I might be. But the smell grew stronger, stealing the existing air around me and replacing it with Granny's nightly odor. I stood and inhaled, puzzled, and frozen in place.

"I smell it, too." I heard Mom say.

I knew then that I wasn't loony. Those same familiar feelings from all my summers of comfort and safety enveloped me, and I knew Granny stopped by to let me know that she was okay and watching over us.

Do I believe in ghosts? Yep. Since then, I sure do.

Dimes, Dimes and More Dimes

A few days ago, I posted about all the dimes we've found in our 'new' house. It's an older home, but new to us. The discover of silver slowed for a while, but today, it started again. My sister had just showered, and dressed only in her underwear, stood at the vanity. Something fell to the floor, and she looked to see what it was. A DIME! Okay...she had no pockets, we don't leave dimes laying on the bathroom counter, and we're at a loss to explain where it came from. It's eerie but fascinating all at the same time.

I started researching the internet to see if I could find a correlation. It seems people finding dimes are a 'dime a dozen' (bad joke), but at least we don't feel so weird. I'm starting to keep the ones we find but I only have four of the many we've discovered. We'll see how long this continues. It's weird enough, but the fact that ONLY dimes are what we're finding makes it even stranger. No quarters, no pennies, no nickels...just dimes.

In my search, I came across a very interesting blog, dedicated to this very topic. I thought to share the link with you. You might find it interesting. On her first blog post, there are over 40 responses from others who have experienced the same strange phenomena. As I said, spirits or not, we aren't frightened. This house just feels like home.

Check out the link: Peace of my Mind

We're wondering if it might be our Dad. He did live with a strange woman for years after his death, but we believed he had 'crossed over'. It's a long story and one I might share later on. :)