Thanks! I used to swear just like anybody else in Gen X. I'm glad I got over the habit. I never realized how ugly my language had become until I stopped swearing. I'll still utter a choice word or two if I drop something heavy on my foot though. I'm far from perfect.
In your defense, it is ridiculous how every antic from Meghan and Harry is shoved in people's faces. They are all over the rag mags here for reasons I will never understand. They are an obvious bread & circuses style distraction so Brits pay less attention to their sky high gas bills, inflation, quaxxine deaths, plummeting birth rates, and war.
From what I remember, I was a goose at least once. I was a cat many times, and it was not easy to be a cat. I was maimed as a cat more times than I can count in horrible ways, killed, skinned, and worn as a cap, and all sorts of injustices. I did have at least one pampered cat existence though where I was loved and cherished by a wonderful human cat mom, so that was nice.
When I was incarnated as a serial killer, it was during a time (not sure when) when warlords were serial killers as accepted practice. Pretty sure the serial killer was Scottish or whatever Scotland was called waaaay back in the day. He was fond of letting prisoners rot in his oubliette. That wasn't the only thing he did to people, of course. He was truly sick.
After that, and I sadly don't know when this was, I was incarnated as a mentally handicapped boy in whatever Germany was called or somewhere near there. The boy's father was exceptionally loving, patient, strict, and musical. He is the one who first taught his child (despite the child being stubborn and nearly impossible to teach) how to hear tones and music. He is the one who planted the seed for me to become a musician in this life and in other lifetimes.
After that, I was incarnated as a traveling troubadour. "Robert" was a comedian and could do weird tricks, such as farting on command. Robert had "one in every port", meaning he was a lothario and would seduce women wherever he went because he was good looking/cute. I believe it was during the troubadour life that Robert disparaged music teachers out of arrogance. This created bad karma for my soul that lasted several lifetimes. Robert's troubadour life ended at the end of a noose around the age of 40. He pissed off one too many people and got one too many burgomaster's daughters pregnant.
Sometime in the 18th century, I was reincarnated as Peter the Singing Sailor. Peter was an ugly little dude. Nobody wanted to marry him because he was poor, short as hell, and ugly. His singing was great though. He went off on an underfunded sailing ship from Portugal and never returned. He died at sea, cursing God as he starved to death and shriveled up.
I was incarnated as people who starved to death a couple more times after that, both times in or near Russia and both times the incarnations died before the age of 14. I believe that I went through starvation because of the warlord's for starving people in the oubliette as a Scottish laird/king. He could have just put them to death instead of torturing them.
I was a man who lived during the time of the French revolution. He spent his life in France and England. He was unhappily married and lived in a rat trap of a building with his wife. They had almost no money. He did not reach an old age, though I am not sure how he died.
Most recently, I was incarnated as a wealthy Victorian girl who became an extremely wealthy woman. I believe her name was either Vera or Esther or perhaps both, such as first and middle. Vera was pretty and petite and to a great degree got by on her looks. She was trained to become a teacher and taught for a little while in a school. She married well. Her first husband gave her two sons and they were the light of her life. She was a good mother, and though they were pampered, they were good boys brought up with discipline and order. Those lights got snuffed out in one of the World Wars. I believe it was WWI but it could have been as late as WWII. Both of her sons were pilots/air men who got shot out of the sky. When they never returned, she was broken. The father of the boys died and she remarried. She married for money and comfort, not for love. All the nice stuff, new clothes, travel, and perks of being rich could not heal her heart. Second husband died and she was done with marriage. The last memory I have of her is going on a cruise, stylish, lovely, and completely bitter and sad.
There may have been a few other lifetimes peppered in there but that is the jist of it. I started incarnating as a human about a thousand years ago, give or take. What's odd is that I had memories of these people when I was 12 (Vera came to me in a vision when I was morbidly depressed one night, I did not know who she was) and Robert the Troubadour came to me in a vision when I was 15. Again, I had no idea who he was. I drew a picture of him in a sketchbook that sadly is long lost.
I had been meditating for about 3 years every day and doing the SoP when memories started making themselves apparent. Sometimes it was during the SoP itself; that's when Peter the Singing Sailor came through. Other times, they came through during discursive meditation. I have been doing the SoP since the beginning of January 2017 and I have been doing discursive meditation every day since sometime in 2016. I have definitely gotten to the root of a lot of my anger which does help to control it. Much of it was based in fear of being thrown into poverty and homelessness, fear of being humiliated, or feeling that I was slighted by someone I could not forgive.
Re: Thank you
In your defense, it is ridiculous how every antic from Meghan and Harry is shoved in people's faces. They are all over the rag mags here for reasons I will never understand. They are an obvious bread & circuses style distraction so Brits pay less attention to their sky high gas bills, inflation, quaxxine deaths, plummeting birth rates, and war.
From what I remember, I was a goose at least once. I was a cat many times, and it was not easy to be a cat. I was maimed as a cat more times than I can count in horrible ways, killed, skinned, and worn as a cap, and all sorts of injustices. I did have at least one pampered cat existence though where I was loved and cherished by a wonderful human cat mom, so that was nice.
When I was incarnated as a serial killer, it was during a time (not sure when) when warlords were serial killers as accepted practice. Pretty sure the serial killer was Scottish or whatever Scotland was called waaaay back in the day. He was fond of letting prisoners rot in his oubliette. That wasn't the only thing he did to people, of course. He was truly sick.
After that, and I sadly don't know when this was, I was incarnated as a mentally handicapped boy in whatever Germany was called or somewhere near there. The boy's father was exceptionally loving, patient, strict, and musical. He is the one who first taught his child (despite the child being stubborn and nearly impossible to teach) how to hear tones and music. He is the one who planted the seed for me to become a musician in this life and in other lifetimes.
After that, I was incarnated as a traveling troubadour. "Robert" was a comedian and could do weird tricks, such as farting on command. Robert had "one in every port", meaning he was a lothario and would seduce women wherever he went because he was good looking/cute. I believe it was during the troubadour life that Robert disparaged music teachers out of arrogance. This created bad karma for my soul that lasted several lifetimes. Robert's troubadour life ended at the end of a noose around the age of 40. He pissed off one too many people and got one too many burgomaster's daughters pregnant.
Sometime in the 18th century, I was reincarnated as Peter the Singing Sailor. Peter was an ugly little dude. Nobody wanted to marry him because he was poor, short as hell, and ugly. His singing was great though. He went off on an underfunded sailing ship from Portugal and never returned. He died at sea, cursing God as he starved to death and shriveled up.
I was incarnated as people who starved to death a couple more times after that, both times in or near Russia and both times the incarnations died before the age of 14. I believe that I went through starvation because of the warlord's for starving people in the oubliette as a Scottish laird/king. He could have just put them to death instead of torturing them.
I was a man who lived during the time of the French revolution. He spent his life in France and England. He was unhappily married and lived in a rat trap of a building with his wife. They had almost no money. He did not reach an old age, though I am not sure how he died.
Most recently, I was incarnated as a wealthy Victorian girl who became an extremely wealthy woman. I believe her name was either Vera or Esther or perhaps both, such as first and middle. Vera was pretty and petite and to a great degree got by on her looks. She was trained to become a teacher and taught for a little while in a school. She married well. Her first husband gave her two sons and they were the light of her life. She was a good mother, and though they were pampered, they were good boys brought up with discipline and order. Those lights got snuffed out in one of the World Wars. I believe it was WWI but it could have been as late as WWII. Both of her sons were pilots/air men who got shot out of the sky. When they never returned, she was broken. The father of the boys died and she remarried. She married for money and comfort, not for love. All the nice stuff, new clothes, travel, and perks of being rich could not heal her heart. Second husband died and she was done with marriage. The last memory I have of her is going on a cruise, stylish, lovely, and completely bitter and sad.
There may have been a few other lifetimes peppered in there but that is the jist of it. I started incarnating as a human about a thousand years ago, give or take. What's odd is that I had memories of these people when I was 12 (Vera came to me in a vision when I was morbidly depressed one night, I did not know who she was) and Robert the Troubadour came to me in a vision when I was 15. Again, I had no idea who he was. I drew a picture of him in a sketchbook that sadly is long lost.
I had been meditating for about 3 years every day and doing the SoP when memories started making themselves apparent. Sometimes it was during the SoP itself; that's when Peter the Singing Sailor came through. Other times, they came through during discursive meditation. I have been doing the SoP since the beginning of January 2017 and I have been doing discursive meditation every day since sometime in 2016. I have definitely gotten to the root of a lot of my anger which does help to control it. Much of it was based in fear of being thrown into poverty and homelessness, fear of being humiliated, or feeling that I was slighted by someone I could not forgive.