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Go Back   Spiritual Forums > Spirituality & Beliefs > Past Lives & Reincarnation

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  #11  
Old 04-06-2021, 02:16 AM
PastPilot PastPilot is offline
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I have seen many past lives in dreams starting when I was around 9 years old. This has never stopped. I have read that regressionists state everyone has experienced past life memories in their dreams but most people will simply dismiss it as just a dream.
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  #12  
Old 04-06-2021, 02:48 AM
django django is offline
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Hi past pilot, can you share some of your dreams briefly? I had a dream when I was 12 that I struggled to understand for years, it might have been a past life dream. In it I was an old man who seemed mad, sitting in a chair staring out of a window and patting a cat on my lap. I heard either while I was dreaming or just as I woke up from the dream “he is me.” This dream confused me for a long time, I still find it hard to believe in reincarnation, though I think this is the most likely explanation. It also led to a life long interest in the meaning of dreams.
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Old 04-06-2021, 06:43 AM
PastPilot PastPilot is offline
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I will share the first dream I had of a past life. This occurred when I was 9 years old. Since this dream, I have had several other dreams that relate to this same life and have had several sudden visions of this life as well. When I was at a meditation retreat back in late 2017, I had a 15-second memory of being on a 4-man patrol in No Man's Land where the soldier in front of me took a bullet through his helmet and head. He had made the mistake, as we were crawling on our stomachs, to have stopped and lifted his head to get his bearing. This must have been an important life, or a life that left a deep scar, because World War One has featured a lot in my dreams and visions.

The dream lasted about 40-minutes. It started with me moving across a World War One landscape into the rear area of the German lines. I was a lieutenant. I had been in the army for at least two years and had been wounded in the Battle of Arras, in April of that year. It was a shrapnel wound to my upper left arm, which occurred while I was moving with my men through a communication trench to take up position on the front line. An enemy shell burst overhead and a nasty piece of steel found my arm. A sergeant pulled me aside, put a field dressing onto my wound, and then sent me to the rear. Once healed, a couple of months later, I was sent back to my unit. No blighty for me. Now I was leading my men toward the Germans later in 1917. The Germans had been pushed back a few miles a few days earlier and we were moved up from the reserve to take over a small section of the third-line trench in the rear German area. There were about 20-30 of us. We were a British infantry section (I suspect I may have been in Scots Guards as I had a flashback memory of their shoulder patch -- unfortunately, the Irish and Wesh Guards had the same patch and all three were involved in this battle -- they may have been in the same division; in later flashbacks, I noted that my men had Scottish accents).

We were equipped with a couple of Lewis Guns (light machine guns), barbed wire, extra ammunition, water, rations, etc. However, we were still equipped lightly and expected to be either reinforced or relieved after a few days out in our assigned position. I remember walking with a rifle and bayonet attached along with several others as we moved through light woods. Every once in a while we saw a shell hole or a downed tree. We advanced cautiously but were not expecting trouble. Many other British units had traveled the same general route but you never know. Pockets of Germans may still be hiding away somewhere. We passed as a rather large, well-to-do French Château on our left, which had a little damage to it but otherwise it was quite intact.

The Germans had suffered a catastrophic defeat and had retreated in haste a few days earlier before they stopped to hold their ground. It was at that point that the British army suffered its heaviest casualties. However, that was much further away from where we were going. Our job was to take over a section of captured enemy trench and modify it to become a strong point against future German attacks. By mid-afternoon, we found the enemy trench. It was a third-line trench, which meant it wasn't much of a trench. It was only waist deep. We put down our equipment and started to dig it into a deeper, more defensible trench. That took about two hours. We put in a crude firing step and then had tea and some of our rations. Later we went to sleep after setting up sentries. The day was uneventful, overcast, cold, and wet. The ground was damp. However, at least we were not in noman's land. We were in the German rear. There were trees and grass about. That was a change from the normal.

The next morning as the light returned we came under intense artillery fire. This came with no warning. We had been informed that the Germans had been defeated and that we would have an easy time of our task. Perhaps the Germans resented our assumptions. The enemy shells raining down upon us proved our assumptions had been incorrect. Obviously, the Germans knew we were there and they wanted us eliminated. We lay flat in our newly dug trench while shells exploded all around. The ground shook and the concussion lifted me in the air about a foot or so and then gravity brought me back to earth. These were large shells. You could scream but no one would hear you. Upon the shock of concussion of being bounced about from the shell fire, the buckles of my webbing dug into the flesh of my chest. It hurt as dirt flew upon us. It was intense, extremely loud, and all you could do was pray for it to end and that we would still be alive when it did end. Then suddenly, it was quiet again. We survived the pummeling. One of my men stood up and yelled to the rest of us, "Their infantry is coming!"

I stood up and could easily see a long line of grey infantry appear along the horizon. He was right, it was their infantry. By the looks of it, it was an entire battalion. We only numbered around 30 men. A sold grey mass was moving toward us. Panic ensued, men threw down whatever they had in their hands and ran away in the direction from which we had come from the previous day. I couldn't stop them despite trying to grab a few of them to stop their panic. A minute later, I was the only man left in the trench. I climbed out and attempted to follow. I lost them in the haze of the earlier German artillery fire. I came to the edge of a wood and made my way through. It was tough going. The German artillery had knocked over many trees and the ground was very wet and muddy. It took me about 15-minutes to get through to a clearing on the other side of the woods. Once out, I could see quite a ways but I couldn't see anyone. I thought to myself, "Where in the hell did everyone go?". I then remembered that it took me a long time to get through the woods and because of that difficulty, climbing over fallen trees, walking through deep mud, I may have veered off course. I may no longer be following my retreating men. I figured my best course of action was to keep moving toward our original lines and just hope I can link up with other British soldiers. I ran for another 10 minutes when I spotted, to my far-right, a group of British soldiers sitting at a road crossing. I went over to them. When I was about 100 feet away I suddenly realized that they were captured soldiers. They were still wearing their helmets but didn't have webbing, ammo, nor weapons. What I didn't see were the Germans. Where the hell were they? I didn't wait, I started running in the opposite direction. It was then I heard someone yelling, "Halt!", which I figured must be the Germans I couldn't see. It was. About 8 seconds later I heard a barrage of rifle fire from behind me and felt my body being pierced. All the enemy rounds went through my upper legs and lower abdomen. I was spun around by these impacts. One bullet broke my right femur about mid-way up. I started to collapse. I noticed I had been running along a dirt road. A wet, muddy dirt road. I didn't like the thought of falling onto this surface but I wasn't given a choice. I hit the ground like a sack of potatoes and didn't move. It felt, OK. I wasn't in pain. My body felt strangely warm. As a lay there a few seconds I blacked out. My wounds were severe; I had bled out in seconds. I didn't see anything after that. I then went into a different dream, which was far more pleasant. After that, I woke up. Being 9 years old, I thought the dreaming of WWI was amazing and really interesting. My death did not deter me one bit.

I remembered the entire dream. It had been like I was watching a movie. I was about 20-23 years of age at the time of my death. I have had several other dreams over the years where I was a British officer leading men into No Man's Land. In one of those dreams, I met a woman that I knew. I knew her in my dream, not from my life. She was like a guide or an apprentice guide. A helper of my guide is how I felt toward her. I had had other dreams where she has appeared. She explained that I died at the Battle of Cambrai, in November 1917. Because we were attacked by both the German Infantry and artillery, this points to November 30th, 1917, the start of the German counterattack early that morning. My visual description of British troops running away was commonplace on that day. Thousands of British soldiers ran to the rear after having thrown away their weapons and other equipment. Thousands died. It was the worst British defeat in the history of the British army until the defeat at Singapore in 1942.

I have had many other dreams which involved other lives in other time periods. Not many dreams were as vivid as the one I had about my death in World War One but I did have a vision of different life, in a different time period, that was more detailed and more memorable and was the only life I had where I rubbed elbows with famous, historic people. The odd part about my death in WWI was the wound that broke my femur. it was in the center of my upper right leg. I have always had restless legs as a child and that hasn't changed now that I am an adult. However, the pain, or discomfort I feel from this is exactly where I had been shot, in the center of my upper right leg. Sometimes it is so discomforting that I will punch, and bruise, my leg to get the discomfort to stop. Often this works, but it does persist from time to time.
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  #14  
Old 04-06-2021, 07:25 AM
django django is offline
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Quote:
Originally Posted by PastPilot
I will share the first dream I had of a past life. This occurred when I was 9 years old. Since this dream, I have had several other dreams that relate to this same life and have had several sudden visions of this life as well. When I was at a meditation retreat back in late 2017, I had a 15-second memory of being on a 4-man patrol in No Man's Land where the soldier in front of me took a bullet through his helmet and head. He had made the mistake, as we were crawling on our stomachs, to have stopped and lifted his head to get his bearing. This must have been an important life, or a life that left a deep scar, because World War One has featured a lot in my dreams and visions.

The dream lasted about 40-minutes. It started with me moving across a World War One landscape into the rear area of the German lines. I was a lieutenant. I had been in the army for at least two years and had been wounded in the Battle of Arras, in April of that year. It was a shrapnel wound to my upper left arm, which occurred while I was moving with my men through a communication trench to take up position on the front line. An enemy shell burst overhead and a nasty piece of steel found my arm. A sergeant pulled me aside, put a field dressing onto my wound, and then sent me to the rear. Once healed, a couple of months later, I was sent back to my unit. No blighty for me. Now I was leading my men toward the Germans later in 1917. The Germans had been pushed back a few miles a few days earlier and we were moved up from the reserve to take over a small section of the third-line trench in the rear German area. There were about 20-30 of us. We were a British infantry section (I suspect I may have been in Scots Guards as I had a flashback memory of their shoulder patch -- unfortunately, the Irish and Wesh Guards had the same patch and all three were involved in this battle -- they may have been in the same division; in later flashbacks, I noted that my men had Scottish accents).

We were equipped with a couple of Lewis Guns (light machine guns), barbed wire, extra ammunition, water, rations, etc. However, we were still equipped lightly and expected to be either reinforced or relieved after a few days out in our assigned position. I remember walking with a rifle and bayonet attached along with several others as we moved through light woods. Every once in a while we saw a shell hole or a downed tree. We advanced cautiously but were not expecting trouble. Many other British units had traveled the same general route but you never know. Pockets of Germans may still be hiding away somewhere. We passed as a rather large, well-to-do French Château on our left, which had a little damage to it but otherwise it was quite intact.

The Germans had suffered a catastrophic defeat and had retreated in haste a few days earlier before they stopped to hold their ground. It was at that point that the British army suffered its heaviest casualties. However, that was much further away from where we were going. Our job was to take over a section of captured enemy trench and modify it to become a strong point against future German attacks. By mid-afternoon, we found the enemy trench. It was a third-line trench, which meant it wasn't much of a trench. It was only waist deep. We put down our equipment and started to dig it into a deeper, more defensible trench. That took about two hours. We put in a crude firing step and then had tea and some of our rations. Later we went to sleep after setting up sentries. The day was uneventful, overcast, cold, and wet. The ground was damp. However, at least we were not in noman's land. We were in the German rear. There were trees and grass about. That was a change from the normal.

The next morning as the light returned we came under intense artillery fire. This came with no warning. We had been informed that the Germans had been defeated and that we would have an easy time of our task. Perhaps the Germans resented our assumptions. The enemy shells raining down upon us proved our assumptions had been incorrect. Obviously, the Germans knew we were there and they wanted us eliminated. We lay flat in our newly dug trench while shells exploded all around. The ground shook and the concussion lifted me in the air about a foot or so and then gravity brought me back to earth. These were large shells. You could scream but no one would hear you. Upon the shock of concussion of being bounced about from the shell fire, the buckles of my webbing dug into the flesh of my chest. It hurt as dirt flew upon us. It was intense, extremely loud, and all you could do was pray for it to end and that we would still be alive when it did end. Then suddenly, it was quiet again. We survived the pummeling. One of my men stood up and yelled to the rest of us, "Their infantry is coming!"

I stood up and could easily see a long line of grey infantry appear along the horizon. He was right, it was their infantry. By the looks of it, it was an entire battalion. We only numbered around 30 men. A sold grey mass was moving toward us. Panic ensued, men threw down whatever they had in their hands and ran away in the direction from which we had come from the previous day. I couldn't stop them despite trying to grab a few of them to stop their panic. A minute later, I was the only man left in the trench. I climbed out and attempted to follow. I lost them in the haze of the earlier German artillery fire. I came to the edge of a wood and made my way through. It was tough going. The German artillery had knocked over many trees and the ground was very wet and muddy. It took me about 15-minutes to get through to a clearing on the other side of the woods. Once out, I could see quite a ways but I couldn't see anyone. I thought to myself, "Where in the hell did everyone go?". I then remembered that it took me a long time to get through the woods and because of that difficulty, climbing over fallen trees, walking through deep mud, I may have veered off course. I may no longer be following my retreating men. I figured my best course of action was to keep moving toward our original lines and just hope I can link up with other British soldiers. I ran for another 10 minutes when I spotted, to my far-right, a group of British soldiers sitting at a road crossing. I went over to them. When I was about 100 feet away I suddenly realized that they were captured soldiers. They were still wearing their helmets but didn't have webbing, ammo, nor weapons. What I didn't see were the Germans. Where the hell were they? I didn't wait, I started running in the opposite direction. It was then I heard someone yelling, "Halt!", which I figured must be the Germans I couldn't see. It was. About 8 seconds later I heard a barrage of rifle fire from behind me and felt my body being pierced. All the enemy rounds went through my upper legs and lower abdomen. I was spun around by these impacts. One bullet broke my right femur about mid-way up. I started to collapse. I noticed I had been running along a dirt road. A wet, muddy dirt road. I didn't like the thought of falling onto this surface but I wasn't given a choice. I hit the ground like a sack of potatoes and didn't move. It felt, OK. I wasn't in pain. My body felt strangely warm. As a lay there a few seconds I blacked out. My wounds were severe; I had bled out in seconds. I didn't see anything after that. I then went into a different dream, which was far more pleasant. After that, I woke up. Being 9 years old, I thought the dreaming of WWI was amazing and really interesting. My death did not deter me one bit.

I remembered the entire dream. It had been like I was watching a movie. I was about 20-23 years of age at the time of my death. I have had several other dreams over the years where I was a British officer leading men into No Man's Land. In one of those dreams, I met a woman that I knew. I knew her in my dream, not from my life. She was like a guide or an apprentice guide. A helper of my guide is how I felt toward her. I had had other dreams where she has appeared. She explained that I died at the Battle of Cambrai, in November 1917. Because we were attacked by both the German Infantry and artillery, this points to November 30th, 1917, the start of the German counterattack early that morning. My visual description of British troops running away was commonplace on that day. Thousands of British soldiers ran to the rear after having thrown away their weapons and other equipment. Thousands died. It was the worst British defeat in the history of the British army until the defeat at Singapore in 1942.

I have had many other dreams which involved other lives in other time periods. Not many dreams were as vivid as the one I had about my death in World War One but I did have a vision of different life, in a different time period, that was more detailed and more memorable and was the only life I had where I rubbed elbows with famous, historic people. The odd part about my death in WWI was the wound that broke my femur. it was in the center of my upper right leg. I have always had restless legs as a child and that hasn't changed now that I am an adult. However, the pain, or discomfort I feel from this is exactly where I had been shot, in the center of my upper right leg. Sometimes it is so discomforting that I will punch, and bruise, my leg to get the discomfort to stop. Often this works, but it does persist from time to time.

Awesome detail

The life I have consistently dreamed about was also a war story, maybe because these feelings and memories persist like PTSD, and persisting they remain as strong karmic imprints in the next life.

In my story I was a young Russian soldier, and my unit full of other teenage boys was made to kill Jewish babies, but I was unable to do it. Afterwards on a train I was standing apart from the other boys, with a sign hung around my neck saying I had failed, and I felt so ashamed. In later dreams I started going mad, I don’t really know any more about my soldier days but I did see a scene where I was trying to escape Russia by driving a car down a forested hill. I had my wife with me and we crashed, she was killed and I was found and taken back to Russia. I must have been paralysed at that point, and that was the first dream I had when I was 12, of being paralysed and catatonic, staring out of the window patting the cat.

This thread is quite opportune, because right now I’m working on a karmic imprint from that life which has always held me hostage so to speak.
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Old 04-06-2021, 09:41 AM
PastPilot PastPilot is offline
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Remembering war trauma can be difficult. I can understand your pain in remembering your past lives. Most past life memories I have been war-related. I have fought in many battles and campaigns. I firmly believe that all past life memories that come to light serve a purpose. However, none of my past life memories are truly what I would call traumatic. As a child and now as an adult, I do not see them in a negative light. I am far removed from my past life trauma in my present life. Remembering helps us to deal with any issues that may still linger and may help us come to terms with who we are and why we have certain feelings and behaviors in this life. A fear of water, for example, can come from a past life experience but knowing that the fear stems from a past life can help us remove the fear.
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Old 04-06-2021, 10:52 AM
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Originally Posted by PastPilot
Remembering war trauma can be difficult. I can understand your pain in remembering your past lives. Most past life memories I have are war-related. I have fought in many battles and campaigns. I firmly believe that all past life memories that come to light serve a purpose. However, none of my past life memories are truly what I would call traumatic. As a child and now as an adult, I do not see them in a negative light. I am far removed from my past life trauma in my present life. Remembering helps us to deal with any issues that may still linger and may help us come to terms with who we are and why we have certain feelings and behaviors in this life. A fear of water, for example, can come from a past life experience but knowing that the fear stems from a past life can help us remove the fear.

I’d have to agree, we’re being shown them for a purpose, and it seems we have to become conscious of certain memories in order to resolve them in this lifetime. I have found it has taken more than just the dream to resolve things though, my karmic disruptions run deep it seems, but I can say I am getting there, so all will be well in the end.
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Old 17-06-2021, 02:11 PM
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Most definitely dreams explore the past life’s... dreams are a useful tool, especially in finding out the truth or uploading or downloading...
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Old 13-07-2021, 03:49 PM
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Angel1 Any lessons learned from past life dream?

Past Pilot and Django, I enjoyed reading your dream memories.

Past Pilot, that was a great example of how past life wounds can appear in a subsequent lifetime. Although, to what purpose, I wonder? Is it because in this life, you planned to learn about Reincarnation, and the affliction (Restless legs) serves as proof that your past life memory is valid? And that we do, indeed, experience multiple lives? Fascinating!

And Django, what a visual I get when you tell of your past life memory, of your brave decision not to murder the babies and how humiliation was the resulting punishment. Then fleeing and losing your family in the process. And the ultimate hardship of being paralyzed for the remainder of your life. Surely you learned a lot of positive spiritual lessons in that life. It sounds like a difficult life. I think I would have been angry at God for the paralysis, because it seems you were a decent person. Do you remember what your thoughts or feelings about your predicament (life) were when looking out the window?

Thank you for sharing.

Oops, just reread your first post . . . you said the man was old and seemed mad. If he was bitter about the circumstances of his life, I can understand the feeling. . . .
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Old 13-07-2021, 10:25 PM
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Originally Posted by True Angel
Past Pilot and Django, I enjoyed reading your dream memories.

Past Pilot, was a great example of how past life wounds can appear in a subsequent lifetime. Although to what purpose, I wonder? Is it because in this life, you planned to learn about Reincarnation, and the affliction (Restless legs) serves as proof that your past life memory is valid? And that we do, indeed, experience multiple lives? Fascinating!


I have been informed by several psychics over the years that the purpose of my current life is to resolve karma. I am therefore gifted with visions and memories of past lives that require some sort of resolution or closure. Many of these were military lives.

I had once very a long, unexpected vision of a past life in which I was lived through an important historic military event that shaped modern society. That life still has some unresolved issues although I would say, despite it being a brutal life, it was also a successful life for it was full of compassion and empathy.

In my current life, I have seen a number of people come forward to help me. It is just as important to allow those who own you karma the opportunity to repay you. That is also working out karma. It is just as important to receive gifts as it is for you to give gifts.
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Old 14-07-2021, 09:19 AM
True Angel True Angel is offline
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Angel1 Good & Bad Karma?

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In my current life, I have seen a number of people come forward to help me. It is just as important to allow those who own you karma the opportunity to repay you. That is also working out karma. It is just as important to receive gifts as it is for you to give gifts.

Yes, I agree with this. I've had a lot of strangers help me, yet also, I've had people not help me even when they were in a position to help. So, a mixture of good and bad karma in this life, I guess.

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