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Jun. 8th, 2006
I realized I never followed up on my April 26 post (on the Emma and Davey saga) on what I actually saw during the past-life regression.
Again, trying to be brief (very hard for me! LOL), Emma and Davey left northern Wales with their parents in, maybe, 1827 to go to Maine. We/they landed at York and moved into the hills inland. Upon arriving in Maine, they were greeted by jeering boys who thought they were Irish, who (if you've ever watched "Irish in America" on PBS--but this aired more than a decade after my regression), were considered rather subhuman at the time. "Simian," to some newspaper cartoonists. Anyway, ironically, the Welsh kids ended up in an Irish community up in the hills. Later, the family moved to upstate New York. Davey went off to college or some kind of place of higher learning to become a schoolteacher. I (in this life) kinda wondered about that, as I had this idea that American schools at that time were "dame schools," taught by women. But I was later informed that in fact, the "German headmaster method" of men as teachers was catching on here, so maybe this memory is legit.
Meanwhile, Emma (me) was getting long in the tooth for a girl, and in her early 20s, was still single. "Spinster" material.
Davey was offered a teaching position in the then-boom-town of Chicago, and it was decided that I would go along to "take care of him" (cook, launder, etc.). I think his/my parents' hidden agenda was that out there in the wild west (as we thought of it then, not the midwest), I'd also catch a husband.
So we started west. At one point, we were on a stagecoach sharing the very uncomfortable ride with a French-Canadian fur trapper. Emma/I was a very judgmental person, and disliked him almost immediately as uncouth. Davey was fascinated by him. Fur trapper offered us a deal: he'd pay our way on a paddlewheel heading vaguely in right direction as Chicago (I think it was on the Wabash river), if Davey would watch over his furs at night, because he was afraid people would pilfer them. He let me have his very, very tiny cabin. He also must have made it clear that while Davey was "earning" his passage, I was not.
At some point, trapper got drunk and entered the cabin at about 2 a.m., wanting "favors" from me. I fought him off, and in the heat of righteous indignation ("I told you so! I told you he was no good!!") ran off to tell my brother.
The dream I recounted on April 26 was what happened several hours later. I must have awakened hearing people saying there was a fight up at the bow. I got there an instant before the trapper broke my brother's neck. I did not see the actual fight, nor do I know how it started. For the rest of that lifetime, I blamed myself for causing my brother's death, and hated that guy for killing him. In the regression, I was able to see the situation from a different perspective, and now know that the man never intended to kill him, it was an accident, and he felt remorse. His dumping Davey over the side was a panic response, not cold-heartedness. He really liked my brother.
The other people on the boat, however, really did not care about what happened; they were watching the whole thing as if it were a cockfight. Neither the trapper, nor my brother, nor I were human in their eyes. That is not me being judgmental. The prejudice in the air was as thick as clotted cream. (And I have no idea where that expression came from just now! Don't know if it is from that time period, or what. Don't even know if clotted cream is thick.)
As we were ending the regression, the woman who'd got me into that trance state asked if I came out of this situation OK -- was I safe? I told her I was, but I didn't remember anything.
Later, though, I had another vivid dream of someone who may well have been Emma, who, if this is a past life memory, became an abolitionist in upstate New York (not far from where we had lived before).
OK, now maybe I've filled in some blanks and can finally talk about going "home" to Wales.
Again, trying to be brief (very hard for me! LOL), Emma and Davey left northern Wales with their parents in, maybe, 1827 to go to Maine. We/they landed at York and moved into the hills inland. Upon arriving in Maine, they were greeted by jeering boys who thought they were Irish, who (if you've ever watched "Irish in America" on PBS--but this aired more than a decade after my regression), were considered rather subhuman at the time. "Simian," to some newspaper cartoonists. Anyway, ironically, the Welsh kids ended up in an Irish community up in the hills. Later, the family moved to upstate New York. Davey went off to college or some kind of place of higher learning to become a schoolteacher. I (in this life) kinda wondered about that, as I had this idea that American schools at that time were "dame schools," taught by women. But I was later informed that in fact, the "German headmaster method" of men as teachers was catching on here, so maybe this memory is legit.
Meanwhile, Emma (me) was getting long in the tooth for a girl, and in her early 20s, was still single. "Spinster" material.
Davey was offered a teaching position in the then-boom-town of Chicago, and it was decided that I would go along to "take care of him" (cook, launder, etc.). I think his/my parents' hidden agenda was that out there in the wild west (as we thought of it then, not the midwest), I'd also catch a husband.
So we started west. At one point, we were on a stagecoach sharing the very uncomfortable ride with a French-Canadian fur trapper. Emma/I was a very judgmental person, and disliked him almost immediately as uncouth. Davey was fascinated by him. Fur trapper offered us a deal: he'd pay our way on a paddlewheel heading vaguely in right direction as Chicago (I think it was on the Wabash river), if Davey would watch over his furs at night, because he was afraid people would pilfer them. He let me have his very, very tiny cabin. He also must have made it clear that while Davey was "earning" his passage, I was not.
At some point, trapper got drunk and entered the cabin at about 2 a.m., wanting "favors" from me. I fought him off, and in the heat of righteous indignation ("I told you so! I told you he was no good!!") ran off to tell my brother.
The dream I recounted on April 26 was what happened several hours later. I must have awakened hearing people saying there was a fight up at the bow. I got there an instant before the trapper broke my brother's neck. I did not see the actual fight, nor do I know how it started. For the rest of that lifetime, I blamed myself for causing my brother's death, and hated that guy for killing him. In the regression, I was able to see the situation from a different perspective, and now know that the man never intended to kill him, it was an accident, and he felt remorse. His dumping Davey over the side was a panic response, not cold-heartedness. He really liked my brother.
The other people on the boat, however, really did not care about what happened; they were watching the whole thing as if it were a cockfight. Neither the trapper, nor my brother, nor I were human in their eyes. That is not me being judgmental. The prejudice in the air was as thick as clotted cream. (And I have no idea where that expression came from just now! Don't know if it is from that time period, or what. Don't even know if clotted cream is thick.)
As we were ending the regression, the woman who'd got me into that trance state asked if I came out of this situation OK -- was I safe? I told her I was, but I didn't remember anything.
Later, though, I had another vivid dream of someone who may well have been Emma, who, if this is a past life memory, became an abolitionist in upstate New York (not far from where we had lived before).
OK, now maybe I've filled in some blanks and can finally talk about going "home" to Wales.
