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:
First came to me flashes of the fortress, this time in the inside. It looks like a wide enclosure, there are children with us, I believe one of them is my grandson, though I could not say which of my sons is the father. I think we hope the pursuers will “walk on”. We have provisions for some three months, and winter is coming, perhaps they won’t be able to come up here and will end up forgetting about us, but that is not likely. I feel there are internal disputes. We were discovered because someone wanted to commit himself to “preach” and probably rumors began to expand. I think it was someone in the community (maybe my uncle) and some blame him, but that gets me angry and I tell them we must not get separated, we must not blame ourselves, as the real evil is done by the pursuers. We are in general very discreet... but “someone” doesn’t like our customs and beliefs.
My eldest son (the one who is around 30 at that point, possibly H) is near and I feel he is very upset about something, it is hard for him to contain his rage (it is curious because this has happened to him in other lives of his), and I wish to take his hand and calm him down, and explain something to him, but I don’t know if I can tell him all I want at the end. While I was transcribing this part, it came to me that his name could be Dominic.
I feel we don’t have temples. We pray at home, when and where we feel like it, perhaps we light up some candles and that is enough. I feel women are considered equal intellectually and our opinion is taken into account, though there is indeed division of tasks. We cook and remain at home with the children, men do more physical labor and trade. I think I was already raised that way. They got me married with a man that might be a relative, maybe a cousin or something like that. I see him in his youth, he is tall and chubby, good-natured, and then older, very alike but with a more prominent belly and a beard. He is a good man and I don’t mind being his wife.
I see myself working with other women, we manually grind grain, I would say there is a community oven where we make bread for everyone and then we share it. Possibly we weave our own clothes, but I didn’t get to see that. I saw sheep in the fortress, but we don’t eat meat, I suppose we do use their milk and wool. The thing about not eating meat is because we believe “all spilling of blood is considered as a manifestation of evil”. I put it between quotation marks because it seemed to be a very important precept, as if I had learned it by heart.
Then I saw a scene in which I am with two of my sons, but now I am younger (black hair) and they are just kids. One is the eldest, Dominic, he is now around twelve and he is by my right. The younger, I don’t know if it is a boy or a girl, but is around eight and by my left. In the town square there is going to be an execution, they have read an edict or something and for some reason we have to stay to witness it. I don’t want to see it, of course. I put my right arm around the eldest’s shoulders, and I am holding the youngest’s hand, who is turning back to avoid seeing it. It is a woman, with her hand in fetters, and with her there is an executioner (I don’t know if hooded, I don’t think so). I was there quite a while trying to see what happened next, but nothing came to me. I sense the end was very disgusting, I had the impression they didn’t use a “normal” execution method, maybe some version of garrote but even more brutish, nailing something into her neck? I do know it was quite bloody. I doubt a lot about this anyway. I tell my children that they must pray for her soul.
Later, already in the house, I feel the need to do something else for her, and I think I prepare an infusion with a plant with the purpose of purifying her soul. I think I make the infusion following the written instructions of some wise man in the community (an ancestor), so I deduce I can read at least some.
One of the boys asks me if they killed her because she did something evil. I tell him yes, but that must not be done, because we can't become judges, when the one who can judge is only God. What would we do with a criminal woman? Just accept the evil in her and allow life to bring her the consequences.
It seems to me ours is a somewhat passive religion… but non-violence is one of our more sacred precepts, so if we are attacked, we can only do one thing; accept it and give ourselves up. We can’t fight, not even in self-defense (maybe to follow Jesus’ teaching about turning the other cheek?).
I don’t see any religious image, we don’t worship images.
(Regression 12-5-2017).
The strongest flash was that I was alone inside what seems to be that fortified enclosure. I feel it is a wide area, with high walls, but likewise, I don’t get to see whether it is covered or not, I don’t see the sky. It is dark, and I am very close to the wall, which is at my right. I must be seated on something but I don’t get to see it, and I am curled in some kind of thick cloak that someone must have lent me so that I don’t get cold. I am just sitting there, crestfallen. I am hungry, but I don’t mind about that, I prefer the few provisions we have are given to the small kids. And besides, I feel very afraid and sad. What most terrifies me is the possibility I will have to watch how they burn my sons, I don’t know if I could stand that...
Then I had another flash, this seemed to take place in our house. My eldest son, the one I call Dominic, is sitting in from of a wooden table, I am at his right. At some point he is left bare-chested, but I don’t know the reason. We are talking about something, but I don’t know what either. Finally he ends up holding me tightly and I rest my head on his shoulder... I think he says something like it is not my fault, and I think that a bit later my second son does the same. I have the impression Dominic is very serious, even intense sometimes, reserved, and has a lot of temper. My second son, on the contrary, is more jovial, like more carefree.
I think Dominic and I use to argue often. I would love to elucidate why.
(Regression 31-8-2017).
Representations of an auto da fe often depict torture or someone being burnt at the stake. The two victims in the lower right, tied to the two posts are resting on two stakes driven horizontally into the posts behind them, meant to prolong their deaths by staving off suffocation by the ropes or garrotes wrapped around their necks. Another likely purpose of these stakes was possibly a means of further shaming and humiliating the victims, due to their apparently intentional resemblance to the human male anatomy. The two victims on the posts await their deaths as the pile of ignited firewood before them is fed and fueled sufficiently to attain the desired result. The two victims standing in line await their own turns next on the posts. All of these victims are Cathars, allegedly St. Dominic's primary targets. Some defenders of St. Dominic dispute the likelihood that the saint ever acted as an inquisitor. Painted in the late 1400's, it depicts an episode in the life of St. Dominic from nearly 300 years earlier. In Pedro Berruguete's 15th century Spain, auto da fe's were still a fairly routine and commonplace event and thus many elements of the painting most probably portray one or more real life events as directly witnessed by the artist himself. It is of interest to note what may have been some subtle but distinct forms of protest incorporated into the painting by the artist: first in the artist's decision to place a few sleeping or drowsy attendants in the work, secondly one can note the only figure in the entire painting who was portrayed with a "fully open mouth" while speaking happens to be the one Cathar who is next in line for execution! Later, during the Protestant Reformation, this painting was used for anti-Catholic propaganda. A very high definition file of the painting is available at the Prado site. Also, by clicking on the file it will enlarge significantly.
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Auto_de_f%C3%A9.jpg