It was a damn miracle, I tell ya! in A New Beginning

I started writing an entry this morning telling ya’all how I shouldn’t have gone to the workshop I attended on Saturday, because the six hours on my ass in the car PLUS the six hours on my ass in the class reaaaaally f’in did me in. I was a poor sore bitchy person much of yesterday, and I started today out as a poor sore bitchy person too. BUT THEN!!!!!

Since it is Monday and the hubbub that is our typical weekend is over with, I had resolved to get onto my nice quiet REGULAR weekday routine. Since last week, that includes riding the exercise bike. And IT FIXED ME!!!!! I’m not gonna say I haven’t had a sore moment since, but I’ve felt probably 95% better! I am very thankful: (1) that we have it, and (2) that I had the wherewithal to go back to riding it again. Go, me! Go US, anytime we do something for ourselves that is good for us and makes us FEEL BETTER!

The workshop was ok. It would’ve been lots better for me if I had felt lots better. It was on past life regressions; it was led by Elmdea Adams, a past life regression therapist. She puts us in a mild hypnotic trance so that we can explore a past life or two. The time I’d taken a class with her before, I had such an awesome experience! Everything I saw was so vivid. In fact, I experienced the scenes from this one past life with all of my physical senses. I felt so much affinity for the “me” I was in that life; I will ALWAYS be thankful I got to see it. I was a little boy named Jeremiah; I lived in Canada or the northern mountainous U.S. with my parents. It ended sadly in that I died at age eleven of exposure in the woods. (I’d fallen, couldn’t get up, and my papa couldn’t find me.) But there was such a wealth of LOVE in that life, so much love especially from my mama to me. It was beautiful.

But Saturday I just couldn’t relax enough to go deeply enough into hypnotic trance, I don’t think. It’s hard when your body hurts! But I kinda/sorta got snippets from two lives. One was in the late 1800s or mid-1900s (it had to be either before or after my brief life as Jeremiah). I was a man named James David. I was a racehorse jockey. There were several other jockeys riding for the same guy, and an older man who was the horse trainer. He was like a father to me. I got married. The young woman’s name was Laura and she was so beautiful and pure; she had dark hair and a spray of freckles across her nose. At our wedding, we danced and danced. I saw a man standing along a wall, scowling. It was her father and he didn’t like me.

I lost both Laura and a baby in childbirth. I came home at night; the process was already underway and she was all alone. There was trouble. I guess I must’ve helped pull the baby out. All I saw was me holding the baby and blood was pouring out of its mouth, and Laura was on the bed and moaning, and I guess blood was pouring from her. We were all alone! I had no idea what to do. I didn’t want to leave her, but I had to go and try to get help. When I got back with someone, she and the baby were dead.

Later when I was much older, I saw me sitting at a train station, waiting. I got on a train and went somewhere, to be with someone. That person, a woman, was with me when I died. My feeling was that of regret that I had never been able to show her much love or appreciation because I never stopped mourning for Laura.

Anyhow, that’s that!! For that, I sure did spend a lot of time on my ass getting sore! :o) !! But it was an interesting experience, with a lot of good friends, PLUS I got an autographed book from Elmdea. :o)