Past Life Audio part 3

QSC012326 indigenous me 

In an endangered way of being. Trigger alert. Intense sadness. I have chosen to let the rest of my past life audio play out until the end. This portion contains three scenes. Please know that there is peace and hope in the end. I hope you will stick with it.

Some things to note, after hearing my past life audio many times, I realize a few things. 

This indigenous father is living a life that is endangered, either by the jungle trees being cut down and the wildlife becoming endangered, and/or colonization. Either way, his lifestyle and culture, how he takes care of his family on a daily basis, is being taken away, encroached upon and erased. This is first evidenced by him, being in the forest alone while hunting, as I mention in my earlier post, Past Life Part 1. 

In the second scene, Past Life Part 2, I notice something that is confusing to me. His wife and baby are bundled up, even though we live in a hot climate. In this portion, I mention, I don’t know if the baby was sick and/or didn’t have enough to eat. He comes back from the hunt with only one small bird. 

And, finally the young man (who I feel is actually my nephew) wearing modern clothing - like he has left the village in order to survive the cultural extermination. The wife needing to be taken care of, makes me think, if she were living in a thriving village, would she need to be taken care of? Most likely, not. She would effortlessly move into the role of being an elder in the village community, loved and revered, but not exclusively “taken care of”. She would continue to care for others, like she cares for her baby and her husband.

In the end, I believe I am meant to feel, experience and share what it is like to live at the tail end of an indigenous culture, when my way of living and my ability to take care of my family, by hunting for our food, as a father, has been taken away. As a human being, he blames himself and thinks, “I should have been a better provider.”  This is the damage of colonization, it fucks with your identity, your worth and your dignity as you try to measure up to the colonizer’s narrative and are forced to try to find meaning in a modern society, that makes little sense to you.

In this past life, I experience the true cost and inevitable aftermath, of slavery, colonization, racism, capitalism and/or industrialization at the very least, having an outside culture steal the resources - for personal profit, that keep my families and village community sustainable, alive and thriving. 

So, that brings me to the reason, I think, we dream at night and/or experience a past life. We are meant to experience different perspectives, to see ourselves in others, to have the flexibility to see things from different angles, perspectives and from different chairs around a given table. We are meant to unpack what these fresh ideas to a new generation mean to us, in our own lives and then share our new perspectives with others, as new possibilities based on what has gone before us - and btw worked for all involved. 

In our world, where we have become so stuck and invested, like someone else’s gum on our shoe, in one single narrative of chaos, this process of experiencing, unpacking and sharing different perspectives is imperative for our survival as humans, and our ability and opportunity to thrive, together as ONE. 

Past Life Audio Part 2

QSC012126 Past Life part 2

Dolores Cannon, after offering 45 years of QHHT sessions, described most people’s past life experiences as “digging potatoes” lives. She meant that, in her experience, that… spoiler alert, we can’t all be famous kings, movie stars or world changing leaders, and most of us are not, even today, right? So, things haven’t changed much, no matter how far we reach back into our previous lifetimes. 

In this segment of my past life experience, you’ll hear a description of my home and family. Please enjoy this mundane description of my life back then. This is important for me to share, because although my life today is extremely different than what I am describing in this past life, I can still relate to being in brown skin, coming home to a warm home filled with love, having everything we need, being with my family, having a partner that I care deeply about and having the opportunity to be a parent. Very different outer life, but the same inner life.

The next recording, part 3 will be when things get interesting. In this segment, I am just looking around my home, but in the next scene, just moments after, I am actually experiencing the deep emotional sadness of this indigenous man. Trigger alert.

QSC011426 I am NOT your narrative of me.

The looming narratives outside of ourselves - we take them in as part of our identity. They morph into limiting beliefs that battle and kill off our human potential. The biggest challenge with memories is not, NOT remembering, but that they lodge themselves inside our heart. What we store alongside the events that take place, is the narrative from someone else’s perspective. Which is then shrouded in shame and pushed way way way down, making it so difficult to unpack. Yet, this narrative from the outside becomes an essential part of our identity and who we think we are, exactly what we’ve been told by others. We think, erroneously, we are the narratives we are given by others. What we have the opportunity to unpack is our essential being, authentic self, gold buddha, highest, loving and innocent self, in every memory that still haunts us. The earlier the memory, the more this process makes sense. But, it may be more practical, applicable and feel earth movingly transformational in your daily life when you are able to do this with more recent memories.

Say you retrieved a cookie from the cupboard when you are 3 years old, right before dinner. Even if you don’t get scolded, or playfully labeled a lil thief for “stealing” a cookie from the cookie jar, you most likely will not be eating that cookie when you want it, which is now. You may get a finger wagging, even in play.  Especially, if you are “caught” or observed by an older loved one. So, when the cookie disappears from your tiny, pudgy grasp, you’re left feeling - this is NOT right! I just wanted… :) The self-loving lesson is quickly lost in the projected lesson. If this is one of your earliest memories or even a story that you are told as you grow up, you will be remembering yourself in the image of the loved one - Sneaky lil guy! Trying to get away with something and you should know better than that!!!  So spoiled, etc. Or something else that in no way represents your innocent desire, which is plain & purely, I like when I eat a cookie and there is nothing to be ashamed about, because lots of people like it when they eat cookies. It is pleasurable, normal and human. But, that is not usually part of the stored memory. And, thus, the narrative of someone else, about who we are, does indeed become stored as part of our memory and becomes an essential part of our identity. We are the one who is ALWAYS sneaky, should know better, tries to get away with things, has ill intentions, doesn’t know any better, etc. What happens to the part of us, the essential being that seeks innocent pleasure, warmth, love, togetherness and feeling good? It is shrouded under shame and maybe even an addiction.

Now, if you want to play, go back to one of your own memories, especially those that are encased in shame or filed under NOT “proud moments”. Identify how you were labeled by a loved one or other people in your life, who observed your behavior. Unless you were killing a cat or stabbing your sister, most likely your intentions were pure. After you identify how you were labeled from the outside. Separate that from the way you were feeling inside, at the time and what you were wanting to happen. Maybe it was that you were needing to be seen, heard, loved, accepted or acknowledged. Even in the case with the cookie, a loved one can acknowledge the human desire of a child, lovingly identify with them, and still put the cookie away for later, without making judgments about character based on the loved one’s fears. Unpacking memories includes separating the narrative of who you’ve been told that you are, from others outside of you FROM your innocent human desire and peace from the inside. Your human potential lies beneath all of the other people’s narrative rubble. This is all in light of our loved ones doing the best they can with what they themselves have been given. There is no blame here, just acceptance, growth and love.

Past Life audio part 1

Thailand, 2009

In this “past life” scene, I see lots of trees when I look around. Like the camo trees from when I am in the jungle in Thailand. I first see an indigenous man in front of me, looking towards me, below the trees.  At my level. His black hair is cut straight across at the forehead. He’s wearing a loin cloth. And, then I become him. 

The interesting thing about being under during a QHHT session, is that my focus is flexible. Like when I meditate, I can either focus on the singing bowls coming from my earphones or the weedwacking going on outside. The practitioner asks me if I am cold or hot - in the jungle. I think she is talking to me, Christy - laying on the bed. I answer, as Christy. Hehe. Then, I realize she is asking me about being in the jungle. 

It reminds me of when I first learn about the experience of having ADHD or ADD - without hyperactivity, in college. Either way, there’s a challenge with filtering out stimuli. Imagine a child in the classroom, overwhelmed by the scratchiness of their shirt, and/or the hard surface of the chair they are sitting in, difficult to focus on the lesson. During a QHHT session, focus is flexible and you can tune into the scene playing out in your mind’s eye - like a dream, or tune out - in disbelief.  Just like when you watch a good movie or a Broadway play, we naturally wander toward the suspension of disbelief.

As I listen back on this recording, I realize one of the first signs that this indigenous lifestyle, I find myself in, is endangered, is the fact that I am alone hunting in the jungle. Indigenous hunters, in remote tribes even today, never hunt alone. One takes the shot, another carries the game home and another spots from multiple perspectives before the shot is taken. As a group, they track the scent and spot the tracks. It is a village effort. Where are my people? End of intro, to be continued…

QSC011026 Train Dreams. This film hearkens back to simple times of human connection - just because - and the innocence of falling in love and family - prior to social media, streaming television, life-on-demand. When I watch one individual shoot another in the face - three times at close range, and then call her an effing b, IRL -  it has become clear, to me, that this is a wake up call to all of us, of a certain season. Those of us who have lived long enough to remember the beauty and perfection of waiting a long, long while to enjoy precious fleeting moments. Waiting, in each present moment, for a home cooked meal, like a turkey in the oven, as it moves through all its iterations, sounds and smells of preparation, up until the long awaited inhalation. Waiting for (a Capitalist-free) Christmas Day. Waiting around the tv for weekly programming. Waiting for freshly baked cookies and ice cold milk, or chocolate pudding to set in the fridge, the lumpia to be cool enough to partake in. Waiting to hear who is on the other end of the phone line, receiving a hand written letter from a loved one from afar. Add to this riding your bicycle, with no other point, but to feel the wind cooling the sweat on your hair line and the sun warming your freckled arms, no goal intended. Try working through putting together anything, with your own two hands, guided only by curiosity and imagination and things you find around the house. True, no one is still alive from the time period in which Train Dreams took place, but there are many of us who’ve lived whole lives at the slower pace of inner challenge & inner peace & inner community, prior to this madness that is going on today. Train Dreams symbolizes a real life, free from drama and big pharma, widespread, one size fits a whole generation medi-mari, offering easy escapes, for profit. That which has become THE norm. Yes, bone chilling, uncontested racism still existed, back then. 

It is time for us, oldie but goodies, to gather up and flood the platforms and sequester and hold our steadfast focus on our young loved ones, like a good old fashioned intervention, if need be - with all of our stories, a deluge of “silver tsunami” perspectives and life experiences to create a movement - our unique, timely & relevant contribution to the younger gens, who are inundated with a world view and daily reality, shouting at them nonstop, that the loudest bozo and/or moron wins. There is something to be said about decompressing, not with several glasses of wine or xanax, but by settling your weary body down onto the wall-to-wall carpet, staring up at the popcorn ceiling, running your fingers through the green shag, processing your current, biggest challenge, of the moment. Watch the film. My husband says it’s like reading a poem. I agree & all of the above, as well. enJOY. May it spark inspiration to re-enliven the vibe of simpler times. It’s all in there, no one can ever take that away from you. Please share. It is up to US…

Past Lives

QSC010626 past life.

This is an introduction to a three part blog entry I will be posting featuring the audio version of a Quantum Healing Hypnosis Technique (QHHT) session, in which I was the client. This sharing comes after many nights of listening to my whole session before going to bed. During the session, I give descriptions of several scenarios while under hypnosis. Many of the scenarios are detailed descriptions of past experiences, including clearly spoken and felt emotions that took place beginning in my childhood into my adulthood. The three blog entries will contain the audio where I voice my experiences of three days in the life of an indigenous man. And, it must be stated that this ‘past life’ can only be fully understood in the context of my entire session, which I will not be sharing. 

I am sharing this experience because the idea of past lives is a controversial topic. Do past lives even exist? Can people tap into past lives, if they do exist? Are people who believe in past lives crazay? Hehe… Because of my experience, as a client, during a QHHT session, and based on descriptions given by several of my clients under hypnosis - not familiar with the QHHT process, I am left wondering what exactly did we experience? Clearly, and I will only speak for myself, something occurred that was outside of my current life experience, yet still deeply impacts my current life and beliefs about myself. Was I reliving a past life? Or like a dream - was I tapping into that underdeveloped part of the brain, a super fast and efficient engineer that creates dreams. Dreams, when closely examined by the dreamer, empower us to experience perspectives that will help us grow and thrive in our present life. Or what if it is all of the above and more…?

In my experience of dreamwork - I find once I examine my dream, I am able to access the exact perspective I am needing to “try on” or consider to create a healthy balance in my own life. More than proving whether past lives exist or not, my interest (and curiosity) lies in sharing the benefits of tapping into a deeply relaxed state during a QHHT session. Something happened. As Dolores Cannon explained, you cannot fake emotions. Seeing things from different perspectives, or “walking a mile in someone else’s shoes” benefits me. It helps me to get out of my own way and to see things from a big picture, win-win perspective, especially when I am passionate about a circumstance. This opportunity to view the world through another’s eyes can help our world get a little closer to peace within ourselves and peace outside of ourselves, in our outer world. I hope you’ll tune in.  

QSC010526 What stories am I continuing to choose? 

So, this is how the dreamwork plays out in real time. Please enJOY the ride:

1) a poem by Sylvia Boorstein, from this morning’s email  

2) my dream from last night 

3) me dreamworkin’ - why this dream RN?

“Sometimes, in a class, I will say, 

'Raise your hand if you have ever broken a bone.' 

 After people raise their hands, I say, 

'Leave your hand up if that bone still hurts you now.' 

Usually, all the hands come down. 

Then I say, 

'Raise your hand if you still feel pain from something someone said to you in the past year.' 

Lots of hands go up.

'Keep your hand up if you have pain from a remark someone made about you in the last five years.' 

Hands stay up.

 'Last ten years . . . twenty years . . . thirty years . . . a remark made before you were five years old.' 

Many people still have an arm in the air. 

They look around at each other and smile, sheepishly,

 but I don't think anyone is amused. 

It is a lovely moment of shared compassion, 

of being a witness to the burden we have all borne of carrying the pain of hurtful remarks. 

Perhaps we think that if we are mature adults we should have gotten over the rebukes of childhood.

 I wonder if we ever do. 

I think we are all quite vulnerable...

Ultimately

 it's not the stories that determine our choices,

but the stories that we continue to choose.

May I meet each moment fully 

and meet it as a friend.”

- Sylvia Boorstein

In last night’s dream, I say to suey (my big sis), as I meet her in the open door of the bathroom at our childhood home, 517 Berkeley Way, a moment alone, away from bebe sis’s ears, “Real talk sister, when is mom coming back?” In the dream, mama is not at home, but alive and so is dad. They go separately. Dad first, in the dream, and then mom disappears - in search of him or as they plan a secret rendezvous. She just leaves, tired of playing mama and cooking for all us fools, I THINK to myself. Its a tiring job. I think, in the dream, about her cancer and what she will do with her second chance. Her and dad, off together continuing their lifelong romance, somewhere away from us. Without all the tiring duties of mothering & emotional caretaking. In the dream we are all going to meet up for a family get together trip somewhere. I don’t know the details and dates, but I remind myself to ask my big sis, she must know, she seems to be in communication with mama. Suey is commenting that mom’s sent the message that everyone WILL BE going and we laugh about how it must be important because when she’s alive, she leaves it to us to come or go, as we please. Although we always know how she feels and maybe there may be some guilt involved. Same ol mama, just this time saying out loud what she means, not left to interpretation. This is important to her.

Why this dream? What perspectives of mine (where I am “thinking”) can be overturned and examined, chosen anew? Time for me to look at mama, from the lens of a mother. And, my dad, from the lens of a parent. Is there somewhere in me that thinks mama left because she was tired of us? If so, I can look through my own lens of being a mother for further info. Do I blame myself for my children’s behaviors that are self harming? Do I blame my own mother for when I make choices that ultimately hurt myself? No, I understand that the habit of loving myself for who I am, is not oft passed down from parents to children. We all do the best we can with what we are given. Racism has a shit load of influence on how children and then how we, adults feel about ourselves, in terms of limiting beliefs. That being said, what story will I continue to believe about who I am? Who we all are, based on stories of human potential? 

Why this dream? What perspectives of mine (where I am “thinking”) can be overturned and examined, chosen anew? Time for me to look at mama, from the lens of a mother. And, my dad, from the lens of a parent. Is there somewhere in me that thinks mama left because she was tired of us? If so, I can look through my own lens of being a mother for further info. Do I blame myself for my children’s behaviors that are self harming? Do I blame my own mother for when I make choices that ultimately hurt myself? No, I understand that the habit of loving myself for who I am, is not oft passed down from parents to children. We all do the best we can with what we are given. Racism and Colonialism and all the other -isms damage young innocent loving minds, on both sides of the coin and then alters how we, adults feel about ourselves, in terms of limiting beliefs. That being said, what story will I continue to believe about who I am? Who we all are, based on stories of human potential?

In my waking life, one of my biggest challenges right now is going back into Speech Language Pathology. I am currently estranged from that career, since around the time of Covid. I will need to pass the comprehensive SLP Praxis again because I let my ASHA license lapse, again. I originally graduated in 1996 with my master’s degree. Back then, after doing  student teaching for a year, and many tearful drives to work, when I had to leave my babies with mama, I made the choice to stay at home and raise my two children. In 2010, after my third child was born, I decided to go back into Speech Pathology.  I passed the Praxis after 6 months of studying, after raising two kids and after 14 years of no contact with SLP> I can do anything I put my heart to. I will not lend my perspective to imposter syndrome.


I am choosing to stick with all the stories I know about human potential. I choose today to focus on the memories that help me grow and thrive. And, I tend to the other stories (injured while vulnerable), as they come up, like I tend to a crying child or a loved one in temporary pain. In the moment, I nurture and then we carry on, wiping the tears, like I mother, and like the mothers in my family before me - lovingly, in search of FUN and laughter and loving moments of connection!