Embracing a Distant Past

Writer’s note: As explored throughout the broader journey of An Electrician’s guide to our universe, and a life, love, and death upon its unlimited bandwidth, when we begin the process of healing from our human condition, we never know in advance what direction our path will lead us. Such continues to be the case for me.

The tapestry of our lives is often far richer and more intricate than it first appears. Lying beneath the surface of a singular human experience may be countless threads spun from human archetypes, historical narratives, past incarnations, or disassociated aspects of the present self. Each holds the echoes of forgotten traumas, triumphs, and incomplete journeys. When these fragments of the soul remain hidden in the unconscious, they operate as invisible puppeteers. They dictate our reactions, define our fears, and enforce limitations, giving us the illusion of free will while secretly binding us to ancient scripts. True freedom is an impossibility until these unseen forces—whether born of past-life karma or present-life disassociation—are brought into the light of conscious awareness.

Human consciousness is not a singular, fixed entity. The soul houses wounds older than the body it inhabits, wrapped delicately in layers of forgotten incarnations. During a meditation on July 21, 1987, I received a profound spiritual teaching intertwined with a most confusing revelation. Ever so briefly, in a twice-in-a-lifetime experience, I could see the field of energy that constituted my body/mind awareness. I saw embedded within it two almost complete thought or identity forms, which I recognized as distinct caricatures, or entities. I had two “extras” attached to my field, and I immediately understood that they were not there for my greater good.

I came to regard these two unwelcome components of my life force as tricksters, though I noted that their presence allayed the feelings of loneliness of my ego, perhaps because they seemed vaguely familiar. I sensed that I was supposed to let go of these illusions of self, but I did not know what to do with them until I revisited them consciously in recent years. Little did I know that they were to become the most critical components to understand in my desire to heal from trauma and reclaim my autonomy.

Part 1: Unraveling the Wounded Energy Vortices of the Soul

Two specific vortices have shaped my energy field, mirroring fragments of past lives that resonate powerfully in my present. One emerges from a life as an ancient shaman, a healer tethered to the spiritual forces of the earth. The other stems from the life of Bobby Clements, an ill-fated WWII pilot surrounded by camaraderie and sacrifice but plagued by loss.

The Wounded Healer

The shamanic vortex was deeply rooted in the archetype of the wounded healer, a paradox I have often lived without fully understanding. My childhood was rife with night terrors, bedwetting, abandonment fears, and a desperate yearning for connection that rarely found nourishment in peers. Yet, intuitively, I always bridged my inner world with spiritual forces I could barely name.

At eight years old, in 1964, I had a unique, realistic dream that perfectly encapsulated this ancient energy. Having received his directive from “on high,” a priest returned to his village along a high mountain lake. He instructed the villagers to throw every golden figurine and sacred symbol into the lake, telling them they must face the “evil one” without protection from their gods. The priest then retreated to his own home, stripped himself bare, and began summoning the dark forces. Surrounded by fog, sparks flew from his fingertips toward an unknown adversary. As he sacrificed all his life force to pierce the fog and finally see the face of the force that had terrorized his village, a face materialized before his faltering gaze. Collapsing, he could no longer fight an undeniable truth: the face of the evil one was his own.

This dream remains a significant teaching. Idolatry and psychological projection are the modern names for the phenomena shown to me. The shaman forced his village to face their shadow without the help of gods, and I feel certain the village shadow prematurely ended his life for his efforts. Before this energy was made conscious, its negative influence manifested in my present life as a deep-seated fear of abandonment and a crippling hesitation to share my spiritual truths. The shaman’s unresolved trauma whispered that spiritual authenticity equated to alienation and destruction, erecting invisible walls around my heart that prevented true communion with the world.

The Unfulfilled Leader

The second vortex bore the mark of Bobby Clements. In April of 1987, after being sober for about a month following sixteen years of hell, I had a series of three dreams on consecutive nights. In the first dream, I was a young teenager named Bobby Clements, hanging out with five close buddies. In the second, we were all enlisting together to enter WWII, demanding to fly on the same plane. In the third, I was piloting the aircraft with my friends in support roles. We flew into anti-aircraft shelling, taking a fatal blow. As the plane plummeted, I knew we were all going to die.

I researched the name extensively, coming up short until decades later when my sister discovered Robert “Bobby” Kelly Clements of Nova Scotia, Canada. Robert flew a Lancaster bomber for the RAF out of England, and records showed he hand-picked his crew: his five Nova Scotia friends. His story was identical to my dream sequence.

Because Bobby’s final conscious act was one of fatal failure—plummeting from the sky with the crew he had sworn to protect—my own subconscious decision-making was infected by an expectation of inevitable ruin. Bobby’s despair turned inward against me, breeding a profound self-doubt and a depressive paralysis that culminated in a desire to end my own life in 1986. I hesitated to commit to a path, to build a future, or to trust my own leadership, because an unintegrated part of my soul believed that taking the helm would only lead to devastating loss.

The Synergistic Paralysis

These two past incarnations did not merely influence me independently; they merged into a powerful, synergistic force that severely restricted my freedom in this life. The shaman’s trauma dictated that exposing my spiritual authenticity would lead to my ultimate destruction at the hands of those I tried to help. Simultaneously, Bobby’s unresolved grief convinced me that stepping into any leadership role would inevitably result in the catastrophic ruin of those who trusted me. Together, these intertwined energies created a compounding paralysis. I was terrified to step forward as a spiritual leader or guide, trapped by the dual subconscious conviction that doing so would simultaneously destroy me and fail everyone who relied on me. My free will was entirely usurped by this invisible intersection of ancient fears.

Part 2: Revisiting the Unraveling and the Path to Wholeness

There is an infinite power accessible through becoming lovingly present for “the then.” Yet, many of us live within the confines of “the now,” unable to fathom the depth of these fragments’ influence. Cultural norms and modern-day psychology have conditioned us to frame our challenges solely within the narrative of our childhoods. While significant, it isn’t the full picture.

These energy vortices do not emerge as straightforward figures but as patterns in your energy field, recurring dreams, vivid meditations, or deeply embedded emotions that feel larger than this life alone. Clues of past-life dynamics often appear through frequent dreams, compulsion-driven decisions, and karmic relationships. Understanding these themes isn’t about being stuck in the past; it’s a path to reclaiming your autonomy. Through introspection, I’ve developed a three-step process to dismantle these unconscious controls:

• Recognition: Notice recurring patterns or archetypal behaviors. Honor the inner acknowledgment of dissonance.
• Integration: Employ tools like meditation or journaling to invite the fragments back home. The goal isn’t to erase the past but to honor it.
• Transcendence: View these echoes not as burdens, but as teachers. Acknowledge that time simply creates the context for understanding cycles of spiritual growth.

While there is value in understanding the psychological utility of archetypes, dismissing these experiences as mere imagination strips them of their transformative power. Treating these fragments as real, living components of the spiritual self demands a level of radical vulnerability and accountability that traditional therapy often skirts. By meeting these energies where they are, we stop pathologizing our spiritual depths and begin the sacred work of reclaiming our disassociated parts.

The Spiral of Healing

Healing from the wounds of past incarnations is not a linear march toward perfection; it is a continuous, upward spiral of self-awareness. When I finally recognized and integrated the shaman and the pilot, they ceased to be my captors. They transformed from architects of my suffering into wise companions on my expansive spiritual path. The shaman taught me to transform suffering into light without seeking external validation, and the pilot provided a compass for deep loyalty that does not require the sacrifice of my own individuality.

We are all carrying the weight of wounds far older than the bodies we inhabit. Yet, within those very wounds lies the dormant light of countless lifetimes, waiting to be unleashed. I urge you to look closely at the recurring patterns, the inexplicable fears, and the persistent shadows that haunt the periphery of your life. Do not dismiss them. Seek out the forgotten fragments of your soul and invite them back into the whole. It is only by bravely facing the entirety of our “then” that we can untangle the strings of the unconscious and truly embody the freedom, the peace, and the unlimited bandwidth of our “now.”