Reclaiming past life skills
In seeking to reconnect with her past life skills Raym’s client reactivates more than she expected.
Isense my client’s confusion as she moves spontaneously into a visceral past life experience. It is dark and very cold. Her body hurts as it is hit repeatedly; left hip, head, right elbow – all bear the brunt of what feels like a hard blunt object covered in something soft. She hears a rhythmic dull thumping and wonders if she is being beaten as part of some primitive ritual...
Tammy is faced with a major, lucrative, career decision but she is unsure about her choices. She feels that understanding her past life skills could bring clarity to her present life purpose. Our interview is brief and as soon as she lays in the crystal grid she moves into a deep trance without any assistance from me – a sure sign that she has done this before, in other lives.
Rather than a gentle process of gradual recall she has moved immediately into a situation she does not understand. She is in a bone-chilling space with even more frigid air outside. It feels like she is moving. Whatever she is in, it is creaking as it lurches violently from side to side. Beyond her immediate space, she hears the regular deep breathing of large animals working hard. Then she realises where she is.
She is bouncing around inside a horse drawn carriage and we travel with great urgency into a coal black night. Her deep desire to unlock her innate abilities has brought us to this moment in time and space. It is an en era that could do with better roads and with carriages with much better suspension. The track and surrounding hedgerows ahead are barely illuminated by the feeble lamps at the front of the carriage. The driver must know this route well. Even so, he is barely driving on the right side of reckless.
The child, we must get to the child.
Her thoughts spill into the night air.
This ride becomes less harsh as we approach a grand house with tall windows, barely visible in the thick, crisp darkness that touches everything.
“This way”. A retainer illuminated by his lamp greets Tammy and guides her into the manor house, her long dress catching on the spikes of frozen mud around the carriage. I notice the smell of the soapy foam emanating from steaming horses, who have worked so hard to bring us here. We enter a grand lobby, walk swiftly past imposing paintings and up a sweeping staircase into a bedroom where a little boy, attended by his parents, moans and sweats with a high fever.
The child is very sick and I watch as Tammy moves quickly lighting a bunch of dried herbs bound with cotton, waving them above the child, smudging the air around him. Next she pulls a bottle out of her bag and splashes its contents over him, repeatedly reciting a prayer and affirmations. She is very focused and I can see what the parents do not. She is summoning all her energy to project an intense burst of unconditional love and light into the chest of the child, whose breathing has become irregular and weak. She has arrived in the nick of time.
The child’s back arches and he discharges a chilling croaking groan, releasing a dark energy that only Tammy and myself can see. It drifts out of the window. The crisis has passed and the child’s breathing returns to normal as his fever subsides. Tammy sits with him for the remainder of the night.
A sparkling winter dawn illuminates the room, its soft pink light caresses the peacefully sleeping child. Tammy is invited to breakfast with the family who are joyful and grateful for her work. The meal is a pleasant extended celebration in front of a big warming fire. Accepting their thanks Tammy is paid in gold coin. She refuses a carriage choosing, instead to enjoy the frosty morning air. Walking across the beautiful English countryside she stops at a stream and refreshes herself, happy and content.
Immediately Tammy recalls being a teenager in this life, experiencing a sexual assault. She is pinned down, physically overwhelmed and utterly repulsed, all she can do is wait for it to finish. As I guide her through the release process I notice something unexpected. Her assailant is not acting alone. He is being influenced by something attached to him.
It appears as a raven, angry and bitter. I sense Tammy’s fear.
A wizened and vengeful old man with ragged clothes and shackles around his feet morphs out of the crow and abuses Tammy. It takes some time to calm him, but eventually Tammy is able to forgive him. Then gently removing him from his present life host, we help this tortured earthbound spirit find peace.
Her reunion with her innate knowing of the healing powers of all things herbal and plant related is very moving. She sits up and finishes the session as abruptly as it started.
“This is crazy and beautiful. I can talk to the plants! I can hear them now. They tell me how we can work together. I can do this again! I can be a healer…”
I smile as I observe her joy. “So you won’t be taking that job in investment banking then?” n
Raym is a shaman and teacher of teachers. He teaches his Crystal Dreaming™ technique worldwide and takes annual tours of sacred sites in the UK. His stories are based on actual, real life experiences.