I think there will always be elements in my life that are related to my past lives. As opposed to what many people think, we don’t remember past lives necessarily because there is a trauma or an unresolved emotion. Sometimes we simply remember because similar situations occur and they make us feel as we did in the past. In the last months, I suspect these elements are those concerning the promotion of veganism. Being an activist in this sense entails to confront every day mockeries, scorn and personal attacks for defending a position that should be of basic ethics: you can’t claim you love someone while at the same time you participate in their exploitation and death. As happens to me with other lives as well, fortunately today it is unlikely someone will come to behead me for thinking that way and disseminate that truth, but that doesn’t prevent me from feeling the same way I felt in my Cathar life in a given moment. Every other day I have to find ways to transmit my messages without falling into intolerance, pretending those attacks don’t affect me. But deep inside they do affect me, and make me feel like in that scene of humiliation on the part of two soldiers, in the fortress that would end up being my tomb. I didn’t even want to describe that scene in detail. Instead of using helmet and armor, now humans shield behind computer screens, but in essence we haven’t changed much, and some individuals still believe that it is licit to insult and mock someone who defends the life and rights of defenseless beings. Needless to say, my Cathar life is giving me a lot of inner strength to carry on with my activism. As a fellow activist says, you quickly get over it when you remember the real victims are the non-human animals and not you. The fact I got killed in a previous life is not going to stop me from fighting for something that is just.
It usually happens to me every time I make a comment such as: “It is been a while since I have been very disconnected from my past lives, I am getting bored”. The next day I get into a weird mood yet again, and it can’t be explained by anything that has occurred to me in real life. This time it seems it has happened to me for what I said in my latest entry about my Cathar life. But things are more complicated than it seems…
I think there will always be elements in my life that are related to my past lives. As opposed to what many people think, we don’t remember past lives necessarily because there is a trauma or an unresolved emotion. Sometimes we simply remember because similar situations occur and they make us feel as we did in the past. In the last months, I suspect these elements are those concerning the promotion of veganism. Being an activist in this sense entails to confront every day mockeries, scorn and personal attacks for defending a position that should be of basic ethics: you can’t claim you love someone while at the same time you participate in their exploitation and death. As happens to me with other lives as well, fortunately today it is unlikely someone will come to behead me for thinking that way and disseminate that truth, but that doesn’t prevent me from feeling the same way I felt in my Cathar life in a given moment. Every other day I have to find ways to transmit my messages without falling into intolerance, pretending those attacks don’t affect me. But deep inside they do affect me, and make me feel like in that scene of humiliation on the part of two soldiers, in the fortress that would end up being my tomb. I didn’t even want to describe that scene in detail. Instead of using helmet and armor, now humans shield behind computer screens, but in essence we haven’t changed much, and some individuals still believe that it is licit to insult and mock someone who defends the life and rights of defenseless beings. Needless to say, my Cathar life is giving me a lot of inner strength to carry on with my activism. As a fellow activist says, you quickly get over it when you remember the real victims are the non-human animals and not you. The fact I got killed in a previous life is not going to stop me from fighting for something that is just.
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The last few weeks have been really quiet regarding my past lives, perhaps too much for my liking, but this is something I can’t change. Maybe it is because I am very focused on other aspects of my life, or maybe it is because I already resolved all my past life problems, who knows. In any case, I hope to find time to keep telling my memories even when I am not in past life mood. I promised I was going to talk about one my memories from my Cathar life that also turned out to be impressive, as it resulted in one of those instant verifications that now and then occurs. To do that, let us first go back to the medieval little village (whether is Termes or Carcassonne) that seems to have been my home at the beginning of 13th century. I saw the medieval little village, with a stone stairway similar to the image of Termes I posted, but a bit wider, and with buildings at each side, I was going down. I saw a circular fountain, around three meters of diameter, possibly with spouts in the centre. Thinking how we carry the water, wooden buckets came to me, one at each side of the bar we put over the shoulders. I also saw myself with a basket going to the market to buy vegetables. We make the baskets ourselves. [In another flash from some night that I haven’t even noted down in my journal, I also saw myself with a quite large basket that hanged from my shoulder. And for some reason, I have an image of being making one of those baskets, interweaving the wicker strips, something I have never done in my life, as far as I remember]. On December 26th, 2017, I did a new regression to try and find out more about my Cathar life. This is what came to me: Always accompanied by a great sadness, I see how we are climbing up a quite steep hillside. I am walking alone, with the staff and no burden or maybe some kind of light basket I carry on my shoulder. I get tired easily, my bones hurt, it is cold. My shoes are simple sandals, similar to espadrilles, I would say. At the beginning there is a lot of light, but there are dark clouds getting near. The way is not too wide, the vegetation is scarce, like weeds at the sides of the road, but in general it is light-colored earth and stones. Scattered, I see a child, a woman, a mule... a cart with provisions and an old man or woman that can't walk. My Cathar life is right now very far from my mind, but I think I owe the reader a continuation of the narrative thread I was following when I went to visit Auschwitz exhibition. I left it in the moment in which I began to research seriously about Cathars, thanks to the books by various authors that a forum member lent me. As surely the readers don't remember, I invite them to go back and re-read my last entry in this respect.
I started off with La herejía cátara, by Jesús Ávila Granados, book I previously mentioned because it was the one that made me realize a great part of my current thought, especially that related to religion, is very similar to the teachings of Cathars. But the book itself didn't seem to me very impressive. It does touch on Montségur and what happened there, so at least it served me to rule out the possibility I had died in that fortress. My memories didn't match anything. I never spoke of stakes, but beheadings. Perhaps, the most striking part of this part of my research was the discovery of the main Cathar mandates. I couldn't believe nowadays I keep agreeing with most of them: Though I am not so worried as much as at the beginning about the possibility that my memories get contaminated by something I have read or seen in a documentary, I always try to be patient and wait to have enough information about a past life before researching it. But, sometimes, it is impossible to keep yourself away from external influences, especially when we are dealing with historical events as famous as the Albigensian Crusade. Besides, the legend built around Cathars is so large that it is difficult to determine where history begins. What is it really known about Cathars? Well, even when there are good historical documents and hundreds of books about them, written by historians, in reality what is known is rather little.
In July last year, only some months had passed since I had had the first memories of my Cathar life. As at the beginning the word “Carcassonne” had turned up, it was quite obvious I could be talking of a Cathar life. But I had abstained completely from researching more. Then I received an unexpected message. A Serbian girl I had met in the forum Military Past Lives was visiting Madrid, and she asked me if we could arrange an appointment to meet each other. I could not miss the opportunity to know in person the supposed reincarnation of one of the most infamous personages of history, so I didn’t doubt a second. In the past we had exchanged messages about the Inquisition. I had shared some other detail of my life as a warrior monk, and she suspected she could have had some relation with the Inquisition. She was much more interested in history than I was. We talked about Templars and Cathars and the possibility I could have known some of the survivors of any of these groups in my life as a warrior monk. When she came to Madrid I told her what I was unveiling of my Cathar life. She asked me if I knew in which fortress my death had occurred. I told her I had no idea. Then she searched some pictures in her mobile phone and showed them to me without telling me where they had been taken. I was petrified. They looked so much like what I had seen in my memories. It was Montsegur. I have said it many times. What really matters in your past lives, what really matters in our life, is the relationship with other people. When you have explored a few time periods, even since prehistory, passing through the Middle Ages, to our days, at the end you realize that time, the era you live in, is just a stage. What you will remember the most is the relationships you had with people, with your relatives and friends, with your coworkers. And through those relationships, your behavior, the way you react to certain circumstances, you come to self-knowledge. In general, the members of your soul group, those who reincarnate with you life after life, offer to play a role opposed to yours. You may believe they are your enemies, when in reality it is an act of love.
In my Cathar life my family was very important to me. It has been strange to me to remember such a numerous offspring, as in nearly all my lives —at least the ones I have recalled, obviously— I only had a child or two, and I didn’t see them grow up, either because they died in infancy, or because I died in my adulthood. I had already felt a strong paternal love for a son I adopted in my life as a Roman praetorian, but I had never felt such a maternal love for some sons that surely were close to their thirties. I already mentioned my two elder sons in the previous entry. I identified the firstborn as H, that is, my soulmate. What I didn’t know yet is that precisely this son was the one who would make me reflect about the religious aspects of this life. I haven’t yet clarified in deep which were the main barriers in our relationship, but I sense it was more serious than I would like to acknowledge. Thus appeared the new memories: Thus began my Cathar life’s memories. Strange, dark, doubtful... But this is how remembering past lives works. No, I didn’t have a moment of enlightenment when I woke up in the morning and I said to myself “Oh! I was a Cathar in a past life...” In fact, if it wasn’t because I had read a little about Cathars in the past, mainly isolated articles in mystery magazines and around a couple of years ago the book El cátaro imperfecto by Víctor Amela, it wouldn’t have passed my mind. I have always liked to learn about them, but I didn’t feel any special attraction, nor did strong emotions come when I read their story, nor had I been interested in studying them more in deep. Up until a few days ago, I didn’t even know the basic precepts of their religion. The only thing I knew is that they believed in reincarnation, as I do. And for that (and other reasons), they were exterminated. The most curious thing about all this is that at no time during the regressions the word “Cathars” has come to me. But this stops being surprising when you start the research and find out this word was used by others in order to make reference to them. Anne Brenon, in her book The True Face of Catharism, explains it better than I (the translation to English is mine): The word “Cathar” was only one of the multiple denominations in a pejorative sense invented by the Roman Church to label those that had been designated as heretics. We will have the opportunity to come back in detail about these various epithets. The “Cathar” one —to which the Lutheran historian Charles Schmidt, with the publication in 1848 of his book "History of the sect of Cathars or Albigensians", was going to provide with a great media fortune— probably means “adorer of the cat”, that is to say, sorcerer. The Rhenish canon Eckbert of Schönau, who forged the cultured word “Cathars” in 1163 from a popular existent denomination, cati (Latin) / catiers (oil language), tried to give it a more cultivated etymology but also more imaginative: from the Greek catharos, that is, “pure”. Anne Brenon concludes saying that the word “Cathar” sounded like something between an insult, contempt and infamy. It would be like calling the Maghrebi population “sand niggers” or the modern French society, “Frogs”. So it is logical this word doesn’t turn up in my memories. I say this for all those who defend cryptomnesia so much, those who think that our memories are just constructions our minds make from what we have read. If this were the case, I think it would be quite more obvious.
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AuthorMy virtual name is Eowyn. I have been researching and experiencing reincarnation since 2011. This blog is only a tiny fraction of the result. Categories
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