Wednesday, 22 July 2009

Someone's just walked over my grave...

A few days off now to relax at home with all the jobs my other half has lined up for me but I'll be sneaking out to do some visiting in the local area, camera in hand. Blow me, I've not timed my holiday to coincide with the third test match, I'll only see the first four days at most. Horror upon horror, Kevin Pieterson is ruled out of the rest of the series - all well it's not just about one man but with Freddie Flintoft crocked with a bad knee, England might be a bit under par (sounds as if I'm making excuses - I am!) For the uninitiated - it's cricket!

There was a fantastic poem voice over on an advert for cricket for BBC Test Match Special aired on the TV just before the last test with a cricket theme; if anyone knows what it was can they let me know - I've searched the BBC site for it and can't find it anywhere. I might have to write to Radio Times.

Moving away from the Great Game (NOT football), I had an interesting experience last night at my psychic circle which I'll share with you and perhaps if you have a view and want to mention it - you are very welcome, just be constructive.

We had a hypnotherapist visit the group and as a group we underwent something called past life regression. This is where we enter into a very deep meditation and, supposedly, connect with any one of our many previous lives that we've had here on this wonderful planet. It's an interesting experience, I've done it before under controlled circumstances and found it fascinating and also revealing about a character trait I still have today that manifested itself in most of my previous lives. It's also emotional, as we lived (if you believe it) in the past when life was harder and more difficult and in many ways, cheaper and less precious as it is considered today.

One of our group, a lady also had a one to one regression after our group session had finished while we all watched and she was led into deep meditation and after a few minutes became an old man living in mid Victorian Manchester England with his wife. There were names, places, dates, social details and these can be checked against the Internet to see if such a person existed. The sitter also experienced some discomfort in her hands that the old man was supposed to be suffering from.

As a kid I remember a film, in black and white I think of the Search for Bridey Murphy taken from a real life incident where an American woman Virginia Tighe had regression therapy, then she unexpectedly went back to a former life (of Bridey Murphy) during her hypnosis and described her life in intimate detail, far beyond her ability to have that knowledge. That event was controversial and the original Murphy who Tighe purported to be in a former life who had lived in Ireland in the nineteenth century could not be traced.

It seems, although I have no evidence to substantiate it whatsoever, that we may have lived a number of lives before, in different social classes, different genders, lived to different ages with totally different characters perhaps from another land or continent.

People often have the therapy of past life regression to find answers about character traits they have today, why they act how they act and often many of those we are with today as partners, brothers, sisters, relatives or friends have been with us before, albeit in different bodies, in a spiritual sense.

Claptrap or fact? There's no real hard, tangible evidence, period.

Have you ever been regressed? How did you find the experience? Did you learn anything about yourself?

It might simply all be a question of faith. Faith in what, I'm not sure and what's the purpose, what does it achieve? If you have a view, let me know and tell others what you think.

Here's today's story offering:

A man died and went to heaven and St Peter asked who he was. "My Name is Steven Richards," said the man.
"And what did you do for a living?"
"I was unemployed."
"Unemployed eh?" Pondered St Peter. "Have you ever done anything especially good in your life?"
"As a matter of fact I was walking down the street and saw a gang of ugly, hairy bikers threatening this poor innocent young woman at the side of the road. I went up to the head biker and punched him on the nose, then kicked him where it hurts and then told them all to clear off and leave this poor woman alone."
"I have no record of this highly commendable and brave deed, "said St Peter. "When did this occur?"
"About five minutes ago."

Chat soon


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