Past lives

 Over the years I have seen several past lives for different reasons. I hope the following  shows you how your current thoughts may be influenced by past lives. I am keeping them in the same order as they were shown to me. The one at the bottom of this page was particularly harrowing.


During one personal therapy meditation my guide at the time explained that I had held over fears from the previous life. He showed me to a small collection of dwellings by the sea, which felt like Cornwall or the south west coast. I was taken to a heap of fishing nets with a pungent smell of fish. I was told that I was hiding behind the heap. It was different to meeting other “current aspects” of myself but I knew it was me. As a fisherman was I isolating myself from others because there were a variety of different fears that could not be dealt with. By talking to that part of me there was quite a bit of understanding and healing that took place. Because I had come from my present I was able to say who I now was and that I was no longer the same person. I said I had changed, I could be trusted and I was safe to be with. After these reassurances the fisherman could see it was he who had changed and that he was indeed me. The old energy dissipated and I could feel its grip release. We fused together and became one. I was then able to experience the enjoyment of this place in joint union of memory.

I could feel the brisk air as I walked the up steep slopes with long straggly tufts of grass bent over in the wind. There was a well-trodden path up to a very small cottage, which seemed more like a single room hovel to be honest. I had a reddish coloured wirehair terrier of some kind. He would always wait at shore edge for my return. He would scamper up the path towards home stopping every so often, looking back and waiting for me to catch up.

On the way I recognised a one of my current relatives that lived in a nearby settlement. I recalled the different ways of drift net fishing but I also experimented with beach netting and pull lines out to a sunken eyelet. I had put a steel hoop into a large stone and dropped in the sea. It had ropes attached leading back to the shore so it could be used in rough weather. I remember I had high hopes for it but it was no good as the lines became tangled and twisted in the tide.



The next life back from this was as a slave foreman in a stone quarry some where in mainland Europe. Petrious my guide at the time (about 16 yrs. ago) showed me this to deal with one of my aspects that felt “it doesn’t matter what you do it always gets taken away from you”. I mentioned that feeling when describing the loss of my son in the ‘about’ article.

It was hot and hard work. I lived on site in a small wooden shack with a female partner. It was my job to deliver on time cut stones to specific orders. The quarry was run by what I can only describe as a militia. They rode in on horseback and made their presence known. They regularly gave us all beatings to instil fear and compliance. If anyone ran away they would be caught and killed. Their bodies would be brought back and dumped at the quarry to reinforce the fear and control. Hardly surprising in the next life as a fisherman I choose to become a recluse in fear of others.

To make up for a meagre diet we would sometimes trade stone carvings for food. We traded with locals who came to the quarry with specific requests for stone items. This was very dangerous because if we were caught the punishment would be very severe.

As foreman I would also be punished for allowing this despite any pleading that I was unaware, which of course I wasn’t. The enforcers would also stand over me making sure I beat the other slaves to save them the effort. It was pointless to refuse because if I did I would get beaten as well as the other slave. We used wooden templates and string lines to maintain a regular production of stonework. Mostly this was columns and corner quoins.

The ‘hang-over’ of the deeply engrained belief (it doesn’t matter what you do it always gets taken from you) came from the fact that I could plead, I could argue, I could try and fight back but nothing worked and worst of all my female partner would have to give her self to this militia of men when they wanted. So here I was in my current energetic form back in this energetic memory. I stood in front of the slave me when the militia arrived on horseback. As they got down I explained to them I had come to take back this part of myself and that he was no longer a slave. They tried to fight but because it was all in energetic form – like would be to like so fists went through me and hit nothing. Eventually they saw this was futile and I gave what can only be described as a verbal onslaught. Not vicious but a direct challenge to their actions. Explaining what their actions meant for the recipients and what energetic damage they were doing to themselves. It was a long conversation that ended in forgiveness on both sides. What I was saying to them came as direct channeling from a higher part of my psyche as I would not have known exactly what to say to them.

After this encounter ended I felt like I had become the slave again in that moment. But this time it was different I had been rescued I had been saved and I would never have to fear things being taken away from me ever again. The higher part of me beckoned me forward and I melted in to him. This leftover piece of mental energy was no longer damaged and had returned.




At a point about 11 years ago I hit a low feeling that I couldn’t work out and it just wouldn’t go. I felt that I was burdened by responsibility, which seemed to be everywhere I looked. It was a really dark sticky and depressing futile feeling.

I was guided back to a time as a foot soldier and I remembered the feel of that body. I was very stocky and fairly short with big chunky legs. These were memories of constant marching. Dust covered everything and leg armour had to be cleaned each evening. This life was only shown to put things in order and context. It was explained that the life of the foot soldier was before the quarry man and after the next I was to re-encounter.

The following past life was one of the saddest and most harrowing experiences I have had to encounter.

I was shown myself leaning against a balcony looking out to roman villas dotted on the other side of a small valley. I was sobbing profusely so I moved over and asked what was going on. Something was being hidden from me and it must have been for a reason. The sobbing me explained that he did not want to say what his problem was because his shame could not be surpassed and he was ultimately responsible. “I can’t blame anyone else it my fault – just leave it at that. I am taking responsibility so you don’t have to”.

Wow a piece of me locked away to protect me. His sadness was so overpowering no consoling would be accepted –it couldn’t. I was feeling what he was and it was awful a feeling of being shut away unacceptable to all of humanity including myself. It was the totality of ultimate guilt and blame. “I am an unforgivable and wretched outcast from humanity and even my soul”

Again I spoke to say that I could feel all that he is and that I am here for him. But he refused to even respond and would not say what was the cause of this guilt. As I off focused from him I could see and experience what had happened on this balcony several months before. My heart was pounding it was so loud I could hear nothing else it was shaking my whole body. Then came the thoughts ‘you have to do it now or never don’t be a coward’. I had a long thin blade in my hand and my eyes closed as I thrust it down.

My veins were still thumping with heightened emotions as I opened my eyes to see the blade in my masters back. I’ve killed someone I’ve bloody killed someone – stabbed him in the back. The memories flooded back this was me experiencing this again. That moment of realisation the sheer horror I’ve murdered – I didn’t want to believe it but here it was. What the hell did I do it for you selfish rotten bastard? Now I am tainted by my past I’ve not escaped it, this is who I am I have to live with this.

I knew why I had done it, the master’s wife had given me sexual favours. As a manservant she entranced me. This was all her idea but that’s no excuse – I did it I am responsible I have to take ultimate responsibility. Nothing no one can take that away, not ever its there for all time. It’s indelibly stamped for all eternity.

The weight of these thoughts and feelings were so heavy it was hard to even think straight. The burden of carrying them seemed like an eternal damnation and there was no escape no way out it just had to be. I tried again to struggle against the feelings nothing I thought of, no amount of remorse or self-love could contend with the onslaught of self-punishment and blame.

I stopped struggling and accepted this was it then, I can’t do anything about it. Quietly at first I heard a voice whispering until I could make out the words properly. It was my voice coming from higher above my head. It was calm, strong, deliberate and unwavering.

“ There is nothing to forgive when you understand. Although this is terrible it was just an experience- each and every one of us has experienced being killed or killing. Life contains every experience and that is hard to accept. Thankfully only once is the experience necessary for most souls. The victim in this instance was once the perpetrator of your previous demise and thus the karmic wheel of experience turns. You need to remember that this was also a period in time with a collective consciousness appropriate to it. The mass thoughts of the Roman Empire would be: –

Take before things get taken from you – everybody takes what they need, its alright to take what ever you want regardless of what it means for someone else. If you are feared you will be safer, they will also be less likely to take from you. Glory comes to those who take. Better to be feared than loved.

The joint concocted plan was to remove the proof so you could take your masters place. The story would be that he had gone on a trip and of course he would never be heard of again. Yes fingers may point but who would dare say otherwise for fear they may fall asleep forever when they go to bed. Those that accuse often meet this end. The moralities were so corrupted in these times it would be hard not to follow the flow of the mass consciousness. There is no blame and your self-punishment has gone on too long. I release you from your self imprisonment and self punishment”

It all made sense but it was no excuse was it and I have been like this for so long how can I be any different?

The words came in stronger than before “Only you can forgive yourself but I  say yet again there is nothing to forgive not when you accept the totality of what I have said”

At this point the victim stands up in energetic form and says “It is you that I ask forgiveness from, I took your life before I started this experience and counter experience” Gradually though various words we see we have both been the victims and perpetrators. Forgiveness is given on each side such that I can forgive myself. The room fills with light and the heaviness (like black treacle) is taken away.

It left me shaken for several days afterwards but the sense of responsibility and self-punishment had gone. The feeling of freedom was palpable in all areas of life.


I have other memories of past lives, which were challenging. These were re-encountered at different times when speaking with our universal cousins (as I would like to call them) some of those experiences I will talk about latter.