From: ziyena (firstname.lastname@example.org) Story type: Past Life Experience Location: USA Source: Form Submission Date submitted: Sun Aug 9 01:25:18 2009
The first experience I've ever had with a past life recognition was when I was about twelve years old.
I had a very vivid and terrifying dream that has haunted me to this day ...
As far back as I can remember, I've always been afraid of heights. I remember my mother took me on a trip to Ohio to visit relatives in Painesville, and we visited this lighthouse on Lake Erie. I hadn't recognized my fear until I actually reached the top of the lighthouse. Upon making it to the causeway, I was attacked with this wild sensation of falling to my death. I remember clinging to the wall with my hands spread, trying to hold myself upright even though I wasn't near the railing.
I had another one of these strange attacks when I grew older. My father decided to take us on a hiking trip, and upon climbing higher, we rounded this steep hill with a narrow trace. I recall growing very dizzy. At one point my father nearly had to drag me along, as I cried with terror.
Hence, the moment arrived that I experienced my dream, a revelation if you will ...
My father was in the military, and we traveled around quite a bit. With every change of duty station, he took the opportunity to visit relatives, and quite often. And so, we visited my aunt in Oakland, Maryland.
One day, I was tuckered out from tomboyish roughhousing and took a nap. I fell into a deep sleep and then images of the western plains came to me. I heard little boys laughing, and horses nickering. It was dark, but I felt the wind on my face, and I could smell the scent of sweet prairie grass. Through the cover of darkness, I saw a flash of him, an indian boy about the age of ten or twelve, riding a pony. He had paint on his face, and he laughed a secretive laugh. I couln't see the other boy, but I knew the reason I couldn't see him was because his soul was mine. And so, I laughed back. I knew we were on a mission, one that was dangerous and against the rules, but I followed because the lure was too exciting.
We rode out across the prairie, with the wind at our heels and bow and arrows at our backs and we were free, young boys on the verge of proving our manhood. As we drew near, I rode up beside my brother. I knew he was my brother, I could sense the special bond. Jeering at him, I jerked my head and encouraged my mount to outpace him, pulling into the lead. Laughing, I headed straignt for our pursuit.
Beneath the full moon, we could see them. Hundreds and hundreds of buffalo. I could hear the rush, the pounding of hooves drowning out my voice, the exhilaration unbelievable. The dust rose thick as the buffalo drew in around my mount, trapping me within the herd. Looking back, I saw my brother. He shouted at me, but I continued to laugh. How could I not? I was happy and completely free. I saw him, waving his arms, the alarmed expression on his face. Slowly, my brother manuvered his mount, and I watched him fall back until the darkness consumed his face, and then I was alone and at one with the beast. It's a funny thing, one moment, hearing the sound of monstrous rumble, and then next, an instant sound of silence as you sail through the air, still happy and free, falling to your death.
My mother rushed into the room shaking me out of my scream, which slowly faded away as if I were falling, and falling. She asked me if I was okay. Obviously, I had belted a hideous noise or she wouldn't have checked in on me.
Later on in life as an adult, I shared my dream with my brother. I was telling him about the two indian boys hunting buffalo ... and he gasped in amazement, telling me that he had the same nightmare, but only in his dream, he watched an indian boy ride over a cliff ...
Things started to make sense. My fear of heights, my unusual habit of not staring directly at people while talking (In some old Native American cultures, it's common courtesy not to stare at someone while talking - it is considered rude), which by the way when observed - I've noticed my brother doing the same thing.
There our other coincidental things that are unfounded but interesting nontheless.
In this life, I was born into a nomadic military family.
My brother and I look very similar. We have aquiline faces, long and narrow with high foreheads and prominent noses. If you look at my brother's side profile, he looks native american, yet my mother claims there is no history of such ancestry in our family line. I did some research on the subject and found out that some past life experts suggest that we carry on our phycial traits into the next life. Take this for what you will ...
Incidentally, just recently I went through a box of old school pictures and artwork. I came across a picture I drew in the third grade. In the picture, there are two indian boys riding spotted ponies, while shooting arrows at buffalo...