I'm new to forums. I've read Carol's books, as well as several others. Thank you all for your contributions.
Whether a person who has a traumatic death is more likely to remember it in the next life is an intriguing question for me. My grandson, Michael, seems to have died in a helicopter crash (he was the pilot), and by drowning when his car went off the road into water in an even earlier lifetime. He is near 4 now and we first tuned in to the fact that his memories were unusual when he turned 3, although he had likely said things before that.
What makes our experience with Michael interesting is that without our knowing, he was also so far-sighted he could barely see. We think the vision problem may have enhanced his ability to go into deep memories. I also wonder about the connection between a traumatic death and the vision problem. Lots of interesting thoughts there I'd like to explore with people who had similar experiences.
The first time it became clear Michael was talking outside of this lifetime, he was sitting on the floor near his mother and said, "I've been Michael for a very long time." She said, "Yes, sweetie. You've been Michael for 3 years now" thinking he was bragging about being 3. He said, "No, not now. I mean before now. I was Michael before. But then I was Michael Jr."
She told me and I just carried it in my mind. I had always accepted reincarnaton, but it was disconcerting and disturbing to be listening to a 3 year old remembering another lifetime. My first experience was when I was driving him home from school and he was asking what I thought were silly questions (children who can't see can ask the strangest things, and 3 year olds are usually a little wacky anyway). He asked me if there were elephants in the trees. I told him no. Then he asked if there were airplanes in the trees, and I said that airplanes don't like to be in trees, they need room around them to land, so we see airplanes in places that look like parking lots. He said, "Yessss. At a port." I knew he had never flown--and his interest in tv and books and games was practically zero--so I said, "Did your mother or daddy take you to see airplanes at the airport?" He said, "No." I said, "When did you see a port?" He said, "When I was flying my helicopter."
Over time, and very often when he was riding in his car seat behind me (Carol mentions they are like time travel machines for small kids), he would tell me about his experiences flying the helicopter. Soon after that day we found out about his vision and realized that he couldn't have gotten information about helicopters in any visual way and never been around anyone who had, but he talked about the controls--what his seat was like--what he kept under his seat--what he wore, and such.
It's easy to get caught up in wanting to verify these stories, and we did for a little while. He called it being "under a different sky." I figured he was in the military. I asked what he saw out the window when he was flying his helicopter. He answered, "Snow." He had no real or playlike experience with snow. As the story went on, it appeared he was in something like the coast guard--perhaps Canadian because we cleared up his 'having leaves on his jacket and helicopter' (we thought he meant camoflage)--my daughter found a picture of some "orange" helicopters (based on his description) and he pointed to one and said that's my helicopter, with the leaf on it (the Canadian Maple Leaf). He says he saved people.
He says he made a mistake and crashed his helicopter...coming in first over water and then land where there were big Christmas trees. And something happened after the crash that was very awful to him, but he doesn't explain it well--perhaps he was injured and attacked by an animal, or there was a person who hurt him--he's talked about fire. Whatever it was, he said he went then to Mars (I don't think he went to Mars, I just think he doesn't know how to describe what happened to him), and then he got new "parts" and came back to be in his mama's tummy and be a baby.
He also has talked about driving his car into the water. His mother asked if that was when his helicopter crashed. He said no, the car went in the water in the south, and the helicopter crash was in the north. (He doesn't know north and south.)
I picked him up at school one day and walked across the parking lot holding his hand, put him in the back seat and we started off. He said, "I wish I was tall." I asked why. He said, "If I was tall and you were little, I could hold your hand when we went across the street and keep you safe." It was such a tender thing to hear. I said, "If that could be possible, I know I would feel very safe and loved." And he sighed, and said, "Yessss."
This is just conjecture, but he has talked vaguely about having a little girl, and I think he has also been mourning the loss of that small child--longing to be with her and know she is safe.
Since we got his eyes somewhat taken care of and he can see, he is less likely to talk about "helicopter days." But little bits still come out. He is so interested in looking at things (as his brain adapts to what the glasses do for him) that he didn't know existed that he doesn't stay in the "remembering" state. Yesterday he was trying to explain to his mother how you turn a helicopter and he couldn't remember what to call something. He said, "I'm starting to forget about helicopters."
What strikes me is that when asked about his helicopter, he always seems to go to that bit of time before the crash--not to a whole life. As someone wrote in this thread, like PTSD--he goes back there.
I would really like to hear from anyone who has experience with blind or near-blind children who remember past lives.
Again, thank you for sharing all this information. I'll be reading for days.
~shaddie~
Whether a person who has a traumatic death is more likely to remember it in the next life is an intriguing question for me. My grandson, Michael, seems to have died in a helicopter crash (he was the pilot), and by drowning when his car went off the road into water in an even earlier lifetime. He is near 4 now and we first tuned in to the fact that his memories were unusual when he turned 3, although he had likely said things before that.
What makes our experience with Michael interesting is that without our knowing, he was also so far-sighted he could barely see. We think the vision problem may have enhanced his ability to go into deep memories. I also wonder about the connection between a traumatic death and the vision problem. Lots of interesting thoughts there I'd like to explore with people who had similar experiences.
The first time it became clear Michael was talking outside of this lifetime, he was sitting on the floor near his mother and said, "I've been Michael for a very long time." She said, "Yes, sweetie. You've been Michael for 3 years now" thinking he was bragging about being 3. He said, "No, not now. I mean before now. I was Michael before. But then I was Michael Jr."
She told me and I just carried it in my mind. I had always accepted reincarnaton, but it was disconcerting and disturbing to be listening to a 3 year old remembering another lifetime. My first experience was when I was driving him home from school and he was asking what I thought were silly questions (children who can't see can ask the strangest things, and 3 year olds are usually a little wacky anyway). He asked me if there were elephants in the trees. I told him no. Then he asked if there were airplanes in the trees, and I said that airplanes don't like to be in trees, they need room around them to land, so we see airplanes in places that look like parking lots. He said, "Yessss. At a port." I knew he had never flown--and his interest in tv and books and games was practically zero--so I said, "Did your mother or daddy take you to see airplanes at the airport?" He said, "No." I said, "When did you see a port?" He said, "When I was flying my helicopter."
Over time, and very often when he was riding in his car seat behind me (Carol mentions they are like time travel machines for small kids), he would tell me about his experiences flying the helicopter. Soon after that day we found out about his vision and realized that he couldn't have gotten information about helicopters in any visual way and never been around anyone who had, but he talked about the controls--what his seat was like--what he kept under his seat--what he wore, and such.
It's easy to get caught up in wanting to verify these stories, and we did for a little while. He called it being "under a different sky." I figured he was in the military. I asked what he saw out the window when he was flying his helicopter. He answered, "Snow." He had no real or playlike experience with snow. As the story went on, it appeared he was in something like the coast guard--perhaps Canadian because we cleared up his 'having leaves on his jacket and helicopter' (we thought he meant camoflage)--my daughter found a picture of some "orange" helicopters (based on his description) and he pointed to one and said that's my helicopter, with the leaf on it (the Canadian Maple Leaf). He says he saved people.
He says he made a mistake and crashed his helicopter...coming in first over water and then land where there were big Christmas trees. And something happened after the crash that was very awful to him, but he doesn't explain it well--perhaps he was injured and attacked by an animal, or there was a person who hurt him--he's talked about fire. Whatever it was, he said he went then to Mars (I don't think he went to Mars, I just think he doesn't know how to describe what happened to him), and then he got new "parts" and came back to be in his mama's tummy and be a baby.
He also has talked about driving his car into the water. His mother asked if that was when his helicopter crashed. He said no, the car went in the water in the south, and the helicopter crash was in the north. (He doesn't know north and south.)
I picked him up at school one day and walked across the parking lot holding his hand, put him in the back seat and we started off. He said, "I wish I was tall." I asked why. He said, "If I was tall and you were little, I could hold your hand when we went across the street and keep you safe." It was such a tender thing to hear. I said, "If that could be possible, I know I would feel very safe and loved." And he sighed, and said, "Yessss."
This is just conjecture, but he has talked vaguely about having a little girl, and I think he has also been mourning the loss of that small child--longing to be with her and know she is safe.
Since we got his eyes somewhat taken care of and he can see, he is less likely to talk about "helicopter days." But little bits still come out. He is so interested in looking at things (as his brain adapts to what the glasses do for him) that he didn't know existed that he doesn't stay in the "remembering" state. Yesterday he was trying to explain to his mother how you turn a helicopter and he couldn't remember what to call something. He said, "I'm starting to forget about helicopters."
What strikes me is that when asked about his helicopter, he always seems to go to that bit of time before the crash--not to a whole life. As someone wrote in this thread, like PTSD--he goes back there.
I would really like to hear from anyone who has experience with blind or near-blind children who remember past lives.
Again, thank you for sharing all this information. I'll be reading for days.
~shaddie~
