dream, past life regression

I have long ago decided to dance away from the deep discussions on things like alien/human machinery and technology. So, yeah, I post what I *know* and get completely ignored. That also happened to me today, by the way, on an alien forum. Am I angry? Nah. Just a little frustrated - a psychic reader once told me, "Stop feeling like you're shouting in a crowd!"

Well, that's rather hard when you literally are. But the events of today have amused me, for the most part, and reaffirmed the Promise that those who have absolutely no importance and are a waste of time are those that will push their opinions over me and view me as a threat: push me aside. So. I had my appointment with the Whitelighter today. I had mentioned that I was going to do it on one of my other journals. Yeah, even though the Bowl and everything else kept promising that I was going to have a "good conversation" I had my really big doubts. "Whitelighters, brrr!" Yeah. I get to the door at 11 am, and she answers it in her pajamas. "I thought you were coming tomorrow!" "Well, I thought it was today!" We both laughed, and she invited me in. She got dressed while I unfurled in her home. It was a nice place; upper class. But then again her husband is in a position to be able to afford it. This is good, for her. She made tea from jasmine and some other stuff. We sat in her living room talking about various things - most of which I can't even remember, so I suppose they weren't important. A lot of it was her being amused when her two angelic spirits took me up on the suggested of throwing marshmallows at the Fishbowl. When I suggested we also string cheese the place, she thought that might be going too far. I don't know why. ^-^ She also began to talk about my "guardian angel" - someone I'm quite angry with at this time for obvious reasons. And he's angry with me. Really, we've been having a lover's spat for a few years now. It's not even a wisdom vs. adolescent anger thing. He's possessive and I wouldn't mind if he were physical. End of story. Okay, yes, I KNOW you're physical somewhere you damn bastard. *looks around* You're just not physical HERE and never will be, so go the eff away. *cough* ANYWAY. So when he began to tap his foot at her and she kept going, I had to gently say, "Do you think he's telling you to back off? Just a guess here." Then it came time for the past life regression. Aaaah, alright. Here we go. She took me to a back room of her house and instructed I relax on the day bed there. Lighting incense and leaving the room to put on some mood music, I obeyed. When she returned, I was ready. That was when we began. I could go into all the steps she instructed me to do, I suppose. But somehow I think most of you guys know the routine: relax your feet. Relax your ankles. Allow it to go up into your legs. Now your pelvis. "Pssst. Blue. It's your deep-voiced spirit here. Yeah, the only male you let near you. You really *don't* need to go through this." "I know. Shaddup. I'm paying for this. Let me do it." By the time she told me to open the chakra in my pelvis, I was already bored with laying there so just opened everything up all at once and waited. Eventually she got to the lotus flower, and it was time to move on... inward... ... and imagine a safe place... and then a door... and stairs... So she's describing stepping through the doorway, right? I was already on the other side, tapping my foot and waiting for her to catch up. Then she said for me to descend the stairs. Ah, cool. I'm barefoot with flowing white clothing - woot my ancient wedding regalia! I'm ready for nothing now! So here I go, descending nice and romantically. Wait a damn minute. Did she say we were at the bottom of the stairs?? It's true, she had. But I was still on the stairs, and let me tell you those damn stairs wound down for a long way. They disappeared into the dark, and they weren't a straight shot either. I had to cheat. Yes, me. *I* had to cheat and fly to get to the bottom on time. Now, now, don't be too disappointed. It was only once.... for the day... So there I was at the bottom of the stairs. "You're in a room with a couch and a curtain," she said. "And another door which reads 'past lives'." No... I was in a room with a poofy couch and path after path after path after path... in order to catch back up with her again, I had to reach out with humongous hands and squish the paths into a single door. But that was fun, so whose complaining? I'm willing to bet you can guess on the next instruction. Yep. Open the door. I did. Here she began to tell me to step through the door, but shifted thoughts. I was already doing this, but she instructed me to examine what I was wearing on my feet. Well, I was barefoot of course - and I even know why, but this is not part of the story. After we examined our footwear, it was time to go through the door. I had already stepped through - c'mon, we all know what she wanted - and turned around to go back out. You see, she was taking ten steps to help me through the door again. That's when I got sucked in. No, seriously, It was quite dramatic. One minute I'm walking back out, the next I'm clawing desperately for the door frame as I was sucked into the unknown with my feet dangling in the air. Away I went like a roach flushed down the toilet. SPLOOSH! I landed in a whirlpool, a very strong whirlpool, and could feel my spirit drowning in the water. (Actually now that I think about it, it was kind of fun.) The turbulent water stopped swirling, but remained turbulent. While my guide was going on and on about... um... something about doing something or being someone or something? I was in a very turbulent ocean. It was just me and miles of open sea. Have no fear, readers, for this did not go on for long. To my right, a ship came into view. Swiftly and silently, the prow came into my vision. It was not the prow of a ship that any human had ever piloted. In fact, I've not seen one in ages. I remembering thinking, "What the shit is THAT doing here?" It pulled up and a brown-haired young man fished me out of the water. He just reached down and scooped me right up. That's about where my vision was broken, because when random things happen like that I tend to go "buh?" and flit back to Earth. I spent the rest of the session trying to get back into the process, but could not. After the session, the nice lady and I began to talk. Let me tell you - my first impression of her was wrong wrong wrong. She's no Whitelighter. She's a very balanced and healthy individual who is head over heels for her husband. She was a joy to be around, and although I probably should have left earlier in the day I didn't until 4 o'clock. So now here is the nifty part of the day. Huh, you thought it was the past life regression? Bah. Let me tell you about that regression: it was not fruitful. The thing I seek was not found. When I broke down and told her what I was after, she contacted one higher power. When I asked if maybe she could kind of go higher, she did and then said to me in distress, "Are you SURE you want to know?" But it's not her fault. She's actually quite good. She knew of another method. I shall contact her on that at another date. She finally got comfortable with me enough to open up about herself and revealed she was Atlantean. Yes, yes, I know. My pet peeve. Let me finish. "Which Atlantis?" I asked. "Not the Bronze Age one that everyone gets confused about, I hope?" "No." Here she began to describe the place and how things were, technologically. "Oh, THAT one! That's a good one. I was the little girl that broke the tower." Infused with excitement, she pointed to me and joyously proclaimed, "I know who you are!!!" The story behind this, so I am told, is that she has a good friend who used to deal with said tower on a regular basis. You see, it was a transmission tower and she would sing at a little outpost connected at the bottom. When the crystal cracked and the tower fell, her job was put on hold. This gave a certain underling leverage to create problems at work. Before it was all over, she lost her job. She's still a little irritated about the whole affair, I am also given to understand. On my end, however, the tale goes like this: I had always remembered it was some sort of transmission tower. But at the time, I was a very small child; very curious, prone to quick boredom. This happened before I was sold into slavery, so I was visiting the fair city with my parents. My parents were speaking with a man in uniform at the base of the tower. I have no clue what the conversation was about. All I know was that there were these stairs nearby, and I wanted to see what was at the top. So I began to climb. And climb. Stop to play. Climb. Stop to play. Climb. And then the roof opened up and I was in this magical world with a strange box, a pedestal, and the most glowing, sparkly crystal I had ever seen. I wasn't meaning anything by touching it. I certainly didn't expect it to lose it's balance and roll off the pedestal. Furthermore, the tinkling yet devestating shattering sound it made on impact was the last thing I ever wanted to hear. OOops. The next part of this memory is being in giant trouble while flying home with my parents. I was in the back seat, and my mother was so angry it radiated off of her in yellow-orange waves. "She was probably embarrassed," the woman I formerly thought of as a Whitelighter said. Probably. We never went back to the city, in any case. "Well," the former Whitelighter said, "we were thinking the loss of my friend's job was due to a conspiracy but now that we know your story - well, it's a lot more plausable!" And that is why I'm currently not worried about asshats that ignore me when I endure the considerable pain it takes to write long posts such as this filled with knowledge and information I have spent thirty years to ponder and digest all for their convenience and comfort. Today I am real. That is all that should matter; the rest will fall into place. I also had that confirmed today, too... but that's another story for another day far in the future.