In my case, anxiety and depression were the things that prevented my advance. And I am beginning to be aware, from my enhanced knowledge of the nature of reality, of how the energy imbalance might end up affecting the physical body. Sometimes an organic or mechanic problem can be caused directly by those residual emotions associated to the original lesion. The lesion won’t go away until you have worked properly on those emotions. And sometimes there is no need to work on anything, sometimes illness by itself is a chance to learn.
I had been writing like that for a few days. And who knows why, without seeking it at all, I went to bed, I relaxed deeply so that I could sleep well, and scenes of my life as Susan started to come to me. At the beginning, they were the usual dark scenes: my last days in prison; the cold showers inside the walls, be it summer or winter; the mental imbalance; the slow desperation; the first blows; the hiding of the black eye when I went to church… Seeing what was coming up, I asked for pleasant scenes, a bit scarce in this life. And who knows why, my wish was granted…
I went to the days of my first marriage. From minute one it was like hell, so the moments I can call happy are not many, but I began to see myself in the house we had. My husband used to spend all the day out attending his business. We had one or two maids at home, but I don’t think they were there all day long, and I used to cook for my husband now and then. As in my current life, I liked bakery. A very clear image drew my attention: I was playing around in the kitchen and I suddenly saw a small white pouch leaning against the wall, on the counter. It must have weighed half a kilo or one kilogram, and I immediately knew it was sugar. But not the sugar we know today. Somehow I knew the sugar in the pouch was granulated, but the granules were larger than the ones we find today in supermarkets, and of course, unrefined, of a caramel color. Apart from that, I also saw a few big lumps, similar to big golden sweets. A name came immediately to me: sugar candy. Curiously, a word that I have barely used in Spanish.
But before that, I was assaulted by other memory that moved me deeply: I suddenly saw it, the piano we had at home. The truth is I don’t remember if I mention something similar in my past life journal, I would swear I don’t. I did see the one I had in my childhood, an old wooden piano that looked like more as a clavichord. I used to play it as a child. Now I was sitting in front of my husband’s piano. It was placed in front of a wall, between two wide windows, so I deduce it is not a grand piano. I lifted the lid and passed my fingers over the keys, so soft, and wished to play it, but my husband had explicitly forbidden me to do it, and I was afraid. One of my maids encourages me to play in his absence, but I fear he will hear it from the distance or something and then he will beat me up for it. No doubt I have here an emotion that needs processing. I wrote this last night on my past life journal, and now I write it here for the blog, and it makes me emotional again. It causes me a great frustration and and a lot of rage I couldn’t play. It is as if my husband wouldn’t let me do anything I could enjoy, he was that sullen…
Now I understand I sometimes need to listen to the soundtrack of the movie «The piano», again and again… There are several scenes in that film that give me the creeps. I think I have commented on this in some other occasion.
For lack of a deeper investigation, I leave here my findings on sugar in the United States, at the beginning of 19th century. It is totally coherent with my memories: it was usual in those days that you had to go buy the sugar lumps in the store and then grind them at home. I love instant verifications 😊.
In the 1800s in the US, grocery stores had portable mills to grind lumps of muscovado sugar into granules.
In 1858 the Mason Jar was invented and canning took off. Canning required white sugar, increasing the demand for it.
https://www.alcademics.com/2011/09/sugar-in-early-american-history.html