Warning - Super-long post!
I’ve decided to share what comes up for me regarding a life I think I may have lived in America post-WW2. This is a life I never really expected to uncover, and it wasn’t till after I uncovered it that I put a lot of pieces together. I will admit though that a week or so before I did the self-regression that uncovered this life I had been pondering some of these ‘indications’ of a recent American PL, so until something comes up that I can validate, I’m still dubious about a lot of this as it could still be imagination. That’s why I’m writing this down in a way; maybe I’m hoping that such a recent PL might be traceable.
All of this life, since I was a little girl, I’ve been fascinated by space, stars and the space race, the amazing achievements of 1960s America. I would read about space and the Apollo missions. I really liked 1960s instrumental music, ‘Sputnik’ really sticks out for me, as does Classical Gas. It always seemed so optimistic, the amazing potential humans had to achieve things! I also have very clear memories from this life, listening to Billy Joel songs with my mum as we did the spring cleaning, his songs always spoke to me deeply. On the flip side though, I used to have a terrible fear of radiation and nuclear war. I remember a music lesson back at school where we listened to Sting’s ‘Do the Russians Love Their Children Too?’ it scared the bejeezus out of me, I could practically see the A-bomb going off underneath the classroom floor and the memory of the song kept me awake for many, many nights (although I realise this song was released just a few months before my current life birth, and any radiation fear could be related to the Chernobyl disaster which happened when I was around 1 in this life). Strangely, I’ve never been that interested in the Cold War era UK, which is strange considering I’m an English lass through and through, I just have no interest in post-war UK. Although saying that, when I was around 8-13 I was obsessed with old 1950s-60s BBC radio comedies, The Navy Lark, Hancock’s Half Hour that kind of thing, just a random obsession that came and then went again.
At the beginning of the year I had a dream about Mt. Rushmore and the surrounding geography that actually checked out – I wrote about it. This opened up the possibility for a life post-1920s with an American aspect.
A few months ago, after I’d been practicing with self-regressions on YouTube and CDs (mostly to learn more about a PL I believe I may have had during the Great War) I came across a YouTube video for a self-regression to your most recent PL. This sounded interesting. I’m sure my Great War life didn’t end till at least the run-up to WW2, but I wasn’t born this time till 1985, which left a quite sizable gap. I’d read some of the papers written by Dr. Ian Stevenson, which seemed to indicate that most ‘souls’ reincarnate around 18 months after death, so a 40-50 year gap seemed a bit too much (I should probably say that I don’t yet hold onto the ‘life planning’ viewpoint of reincarnation, I’m more of a ‘it just happens in a semi-random manner, probably with a few natural laws thrown in to keep it all together’ way of thinking).
Anyway, in the regression I learnt my name was Anna, an American. I can’t remember where I lived, but it had ‘New’ in the name, like New England or New Jersey. I was outside a typical big American house, detached, blue with white detailing around the windows and door, and a white porch up a few steps. The lawn down to the road was large with a path up from the pavement. There were other large houses along and across the road. So far, so generic. The regression took me forward, and I was somewhere else, maybe further south, I’d left home and was apparently doing menial work to pay for my new life. I felt annoyed at my family for being so ‘stuck’ and comfy in their life, I wanted to travel and I had (strangely, in my current life, all I want is to stop moving around and settle down in one place). Forward again to the last day of that life. I was back at the blue and white house, looking up at the door. There didn’t seem to be anyone home, and I was very annoyed, even angry. I walked away from the house, looked back up and got in a car (in this life, I don’t drive). I drive away, still angry and annoyed. At the end of the road I turn right, and drive on, still not paying attention to anything (the journey is pretty much a blur). It at this point my ‘awareness’ moves outside of myself (to a little above and behind) and see the car get hit by a train from the left on the driver’s side. Its all so sudden, I think I only had half a second to register that I was being hit.
I still have no memory of what had annoyed me so much on that last morning in that life, but it does explain why I was always so terrified of trains as a child. Even now, when I’m waiting for my commuter train, I flinch when the fast goes through on the opposite platform, I hate it.
Since that self-regression a few more hints from the life of Anna have come through. Images of dusty highways and a sense of freedom, or at least an idea of what freedom should be. A feeling that my father might have been a GI in WW2, a tallish man with straight, mousey hair and glasses, my mother possibly an English lady, one of the ‘GI brides’, although I have no recollection of her at present.
I’ve decided to share what comes up for me regarding a life I think I may have lived in America post-WW2. This is a life I never really expected to uncover, and it wasn’t till after I uncovered it that I put a lot of pieces together. I will admit though that a week or so before I did the self-regression that uncovered this life I had been pondering some of these ‘indications’ of a recent American PL, so until something comes up that I can validate, I’m still dubious about a lot of this as it could still be imagination. That’s why I’m writing this down in a way; maybe I’m hoping that such a recent PL might be traceable.
All of this life, since I was a little girl, I’ve been fascinated by space, stars and the space race, the amazing achievements of 1960s America. I would read about space and the Apollo missions. I really liked 1960s instrumental music, ‘Sputnik’ really sticks out for me, as does Classical Gas. It always seemed so optimistic, the amazing potential humans had to achieve things! I also have very clear memories from this life, listening to Billy Joel songs with my mum as we did the spring cleaning, his songs always spoke to me deeply. On the flip side though, I used to have a terrible fear of radiation and nuclear war. I remember a music lesson back at school where we listened to Sting’s ‘Do the Russians Love Their Children Too?’ it scared the bejeezus out of me, I could practically see the A-bomb going off underneath the classroom floor and the memory of the song kept me awake for many, many nights (although I realise this song was released just a few months before my current life birth, and any radiation fear could be related to the Chernobyl disaster which happened when I was around 1 in this life). Strangely, I’ve never been that interested in the Cold War era UK, which is strange considering I’m an English lass through and through, I just have no interest in post-war UK. Although saying that, when I was around 8-13 I was obsessed with old 1950s-60s BBC radio comedies, The Navy Lark, Hancock’s Half Hour that kind of thing, just a random obsession that came and then went again.
At the beginning of the year I had a dream about Mt. Rushmore and the surrounding geography that actually checked out – I wrote about it. This opened up the possibility for a life post-1920s with an American aspect.
A few months ago, after I’d been practicing with self-regressions on YouTube and CDs (mostly to learn more about a PL I believe I may have had during the Great War) I came across a YouTube video for a self-regression to your most recent PL. This sounded interesting. I’m sure my Great War life didn’t end till at least the run-up to WW2, but I wasn’t born this time till 1985, which left a quite sizable gap. I’d read some of the papers written by Dr. Ian Stevenson, which seemed to indicate that most ‘souls’ reincarnate around 18 months after death, so a 40-50 year gap seemed a bit too much (I should probably say that I don’t yet hold onto the ‘life planning’ viewpoint of reincarnation, I’m more of a ‘it just happens in a semi-random manner, probably with a few natural laws thrown in to keep it all together’ way of thinking).
Anyway, in the regression I learnt my name was Anna, an American. I can’t remember where I lived, but it had ‘New’ in the name, like New England or New Jersey. I was outside a typical big American house, detached, blue with white detailing around the windows and door, and a white porch up a few steps. The lawn down to the road was large with a path up from the pavement. There were other large houses along and across the road. So far, so generic. The regression took me forward, and I was somewhere else, maybe further south, I’d left home and was apparently doing menial work to pay for my new life. I felt annoyed at my family for being so ‘stuck’ and comfy in their life, I wanted to travel and I had (strangely, in my current life, all I want is to stop moving around and settle down in one place). Forward again to the last day of that life. I was back at the blue and white house, looking up at the door. There didn’t seem to be anyone home, and I was very annoyed, even angry. I walked away from the house, looked back up and got in a car (in this life, I don’t drive). I drive away, still angry and annoyed. At the end of the road I turn right, and drive on, still not paying attention to anything (the journey is pretty much a blur). It at this point my ‘awareness’ moves outside of myself (to a little above and behind) and see the car get hit by a train from the left on the driver’s side. Its all so sudden, I think I only had half a second to register that I was being hit.
I still have no memory of what had annoyed me so much on that last morning in that life, but it does explain why I was always so terrified of trains as a child. Even now, when I’m waiting for my commuter train, I flinch when the fast goes through on the opposite platform, I hate it.
Since that self-regression a few more hints from the life of Anna have come through. Images of dusty highways and a sense of freedom, or at least an idea of what freedom should be. A feeling that my father might have been a GI in WW2, a tallish man with straight, mousey hair and glasses, my mother possibly an English lady, one of the ‘GI brides’, although I have no recollection of her at present.
I'll see what I can write to him, might mention the dream but not sure how much he would appreciate PL talk, he's very much a down-to-earth, no nonsense Yorkshireman in this life :laugh:
The house looked a bit like this:
, Also, the Mammas and the Pappas, their music has always been special to me. Their music recently gave me a flash of a music store with all the records in their racks and bright swirly posters on the walls, think she was buying one of their albums, but that might just be my imagination :laugh: