PAST LIFE STORIES
An Alchemical Encounter
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David Quigley recounts a traumatic past life experience and the meeting in his current life that healed it.
The land we call Ukraine has been invaded by many bloodthirsty armies and evil warlords over the last two millennia. It's been the ruin of many a poor boy, and God, I know I'm one. (Apologies to the Animals "house of the rising sun" my favorite song as a teen) But sometimes even this story can have a happy ending. As a 20 year old student at Duke University, I had just been called by my mentor Carl Jung and my angel Michaela in a dream, to create the Alchemy process of inner guide therapy. So when I was shaken by a terrible nightmare a few days later I knew it was significant to my quest. |
In the dream I was riding on horseback. A leader of an army of Huns, I fought proudly with Attila.
And on this day I led a raid on a small village in the Ukrainian plains. As we charged in a saw a terrified young woman , pregnant, holding her toddler close to attempt to protect it. I grabbed the baby from her and threw it screaming into the flames of her burning hut. Then I stabbed her pregnant belly. . But I SAW for one moment the TERROR in her eyes. And heard her screams and cries TOO loudly. After the battle it was I who was shattered. Riding off into the forest, I spent weeks weeping in agony. Begging for a chance to make my life different. To tell her how wrong I was. How sorry. Begging for A chance to make amends.
I woke in tears. A 20 year old student at Duke University. My Angel Michaela told me this was the reason I had to bring Alchemy to the world. In 1970.
Fast forward to 1995. I'm attending an exclusive Alchemical Intensive for my top staffers at the Alchemy school in Boulder Colorado. During the weekend a top trainer and dear friend Lisa Schiavone tells me:
"A couple of weeks ago I had a strange dream. I wonder if you can help me understand it. In the dream I was standing with a babe in my arms. Terrified. As an army of mounted warriors was raiding us. They looked like Mongols or Huns. They set our village on fire. We were all terrified. Then I saw the leader. Just as he thrust his sword at my belly I saw his face. I thought it was you. But it couldn't be you. You're not like that. What does it mean David?"
I told her. After 1500 and 25 years. I had found her.
I fell to my knees in a theatrical reenactment of this bloody scene, laid my sword at her feet, and promised to make amends to her and the world for all I had done.
She gladly lifted me to my feet. Her career as an Alchemist and alchemical teacher she said was a gift beyond price. We wept in each other's arms.
I spent the next 4 days staying in her home, playing with her and her young children and husband. Letting her children's laughter and hugs heal my broken heart.
That is Alchemy.
And on this day I led a raid on a small village in the Ukrainian plains. As we charged in a saw a terrified young woman , pregnant, holding her toddler close to attempt to protect it. I grabbed the baby from her and threw it screaming into the flames of her burning hut. Then I stabbed her pregnant belly. . But I SAW for one moment the TERROR in her eyes. And heard her screams and cries TOO loudly. After the battle it was I who was shattered. Riding off into the forest, I spent weeks weeping in agony. Begging for a chance to make my life different. To tell her how wrong I was. How sorry. Begging for A chance to make amends.
I woke in tears. A 20 year old student at Duke University. My Angel Michaela told me this was the reason I had to bring Alchemy to the world. In 1970.
Fast forward to 1995. I'm attending an exclusive Alchemical Intensive for my top staffers at the Alchemy school in Boulder Colorado. During the weekend a top trainer and dear friend Lisa Schiavone tells me:
"A couple of weeks ago I had a strange dream. I wonder if you can help me understand it. In the dream I was standing with a babe in my arms. Terrified. As an army of mounted warriors was raiding us. They looked like Mongols or Huns. They set our village on fire. We were all terrified. Then I saw the leader. Just as he thrust his sword at my belly I saw his face. I thought it was you. But it couldn't be you. You're not like that. What does it mean David?"
I told her. After 1500 and 25 years. I had found her.
I fell to my knees in a theatrical reenactment of this bloody scene, laid my sword at her feet, and promised to make amends to her and the world for all I had done.
She gladly lifted me to my feet. Her career as an Alchemist and alchemical teacher she said was a gift beyond price. We wept in each other's arms.
I spent the next 4 days staying in her home, playing with her and her young children and husband. Letting her children's laughter and hugs heal my broken heart.
That is Alchemy.
Learning from Spirit Guides
Hajjar Gibran is the great-nephew of the world renowned poet, Kahlil Gibran. Hajjar explains how the study of Alchemical Hypnosis played an integral part in his inner journeys to meet guides, and learning that he is the reincarnation of his great uncle. This is his story:
Alchemical Hypnosis taught me to plant seeds in my inner being that continue to produce abundant fruit. In my month-long group training we students all learned to make contact with spirit guides. Since my great uncle Kahlil Gibran's writing were a source of enchantment to me, it seemed only natural when he appeared in an inner garden as my spirit guide.Since that day many years ago, Kahlil's guidance continues to invite me into a world beyond my dreams.
So bewildered by this source of inspiration, I traveled across the globe to a small village high in the mountains of Lebanon, where I hoped to unravel the mystery of Kahlil's presence speaking with such passion through me. As if suspended between worlds, the ancient monastery where Kahlil's body rest is perched on the ledge of a dark abysmal canyon below with towering snow capped peaks reaching high into the sky above.
While I sat in silence at Kahlil's tomb, a strange familiarity crept in and I was overcome with feelings of homecoming. I couldn't name it or remember precisely when I'd been there before, but my soul knew this monastery and my bones could feel that I belonged. Here I was - a perfect stranger in a strange and distant land - home again. Closing my eyes, I sank into the inner realm. Using the Alchemical tools I'd learned years ago I was able to recall past life experiences in this foreign land. However I wasn't prepared for what unfolded over the next three days as I was instinctually led through the village to find inexplicable evidence that verified my memories of having lived there as young Kahlil.
Later, intent on writing an account of my bewildering experiences, my hand was guided by an unseen presence. I witnessed the words emerge effortlessly from my deepest feelings, but in a dialect not my own. I sat spellbound as my pen glided with the ease of an angel's grace. In euphoria the subtle epiphanies of my heart were inscribed onto page after page telling a poetic parable of spiritual awakening from the enlightened heart of the Prophet.When the writing was complete, I was resting in my hammock on the remote beach where I was living in southern Thailand. A stranger approached me and said simply, "I hear you've written a book". He turned out to be Greg Dinkin, a literary agent from NY. In October this year, Simon and Schuster is publishing The Return of the Prophet. Already 11 foreign publishers are translating it in preparation for publication around the world.
Note: Since writing his testimonial, Hajjar's book has been published and is available at all major booksellers.
Alchemical Hypnosis taught me to plant seeds in my inner being that continue to produce abundant fruit. In my month-long group training we students all learned to make contact with spirit guides. Since my great uncle Kahlil Gibran's writing were a source of enchantment to me, it seemed only natural when he appeared in an inner garden as my spirit guide.Since that day many years ago, Kahlil's guidance continues to invite me into a world beyond my dreams.
So bewildered by this source of inspiration, I traveled across the globe to a small village high in the mountains of Lebanon, where I hoped to unravel the mystery of Kahlil's presence speaking with such passion through me. As if suspended between worlds, the ancient monastery where Kahlil's body rest is perched on the ledge of a dark abysmal canyon below with towering snow capped peaks reaching high into the sky above.
While I sat in silence at Kahlil's tomb, a strange familiarity crept in and I was overcome with feelings of homecoming. I couldn't name it or remember precisely when I'd been there before, but my soul knew this monastery and my bones could feel that I belonged. Here I was - a perfect stranger in a strange and distant land - home again. Closing my eyes, I sank into the inner realm. Using the Alchemical tools I'd learned years ago I was able to recall past life experiences in this foreign land. However I wasn't prepared for what unfolded over the next three days as I was instinctually led through the village to find inexplicable evidence that verified my memories of having lived there as young Kahlil.
Later, intent on writing an account of my bewildering experiences, my hand was guided by an unseen presence. I witnessed the words emerge effortlessly from my deepest feelings, but in a dialect not my own. I sat spellbound as my pen glided with the ease of an angel's grace. In euphoria the subtle epiphanies of my heart were inscribed onto page after page telling a poetic parable of spiritual awakening from the enlightened heart of the Prophet.When the writing was complete, I was resting in my hammock on the remote beach where I was living in southern Thailand. A stranger approached me and said simply, "I hear you've written a book". He turned out to be Greg Dinkin, a literary agent from NY. In October this year, Simon and Schuster is publishing The Return of the Prophet. Already 11 foreign publishers are translating it in preparation for publication around the world.
Note: Since writing his testimonial, Hajjar's book has been published and is available at all major booksellers.
When you make friends with the inner realms, magic happens
Hajjar Gibran
A Past Life Contract
David Quigley tells his favorite story involving a past life contract:
A woman loved her husband of five years very deeply, but couldn’t stand his personality. Divorce seemed the logical solution, since he was absolutely unwilling to change. But she simply couldn’t imagine leaving him. In a Past Life Regression session, she returned to the old southern US. There, as a young and beautiful southern belle, she fell in love with a handsome young slave. In the heat of their forbidden love she promised to love him forever. They shared a dream of someday marrying and escaping together from her plantation life. Reality soon closed in however. She became pregnant, and when a beautiful dark skinned baby emerged, her father soon guessed the culprit. My client wept as she told me that her beloved was chased down and killed with torches, hounds, and shotguns. She spent the rest of her life pining away for lost love.
That evening after the session she went home to her husband. But she couldn’t finish telling him her story. He kept interrupting her, in tears himself, as he remembered his own details of the tragedy. When she told of his being killed, he laughed. “I escaped!” he announced gleefully. “They lied to you! Years later I returned for you, but you had married someone else.” Tearfully she replied, “Yes, but I never loved anyone but you!” Only then could the two of them understand a peculiar ritual they had engaged in during their otherwise typical California wedding. He had insisted that they both step over a broom together “the way slaves got married in the old south.” (Both of these people were white, and had never been to the south or studied the south…in this life.) Once these two had cried through their pain, sharing a passionate and joyous reunion, they realized the craziness of their adolescent dreams. Then they could release each other freely of the marriage which had proven so dysfunctional in 21st Century California.
A woman loved her husband of five years very deeply, but couldn’t stand his personality. Divorce seemed the logical solution, since he was absolutely unwilling to change. But she simply couldn’t imagine leaving him. In a Past Life Regression session, she returned to the old southern US. There, as a young and beautiful southern belle, she fell in love with a handsome young slave. In the heat of their forbidden love she promised to love him forever. They shared a dream of someday marrying and escaping together from her plantation life. Reality soon closed in however. She became pregnant, and when a beautiful dark skinned baby emerged, her father soon guessed the culprit. My client wept as she told me that her beloved was chased down and killed with torches, hounds, and shotguns. She spent the rest of her life pining away for lost love.
That evening after the session she went home to her husband. But she couldn’t finish telling him her story. He kept interrupting her, in tears himself, as he remembered his own details of the tragedy. When she told of his being killed, he laughed. “I escaped!” he announced gleefully. “They lied to you! Years later I returned for you, but you had married someone else.” Tearfully she replied, “Yes, but I never loved anyone but you!” Only then could the two of them understand a peculiar ritual they had engaged in during their otherwise typical California wedding. He had insisted that they both step over a broom together “the way slaves got married in the old south.” (Both of these people were white, and had never been to the south or studied the south…in this life.) Once these two had cried through their pain, sharing a passionate and joyous reunion, they realized the craziness of their adolescent dreams. Then they could release each other freely of the marriage which had proven so dysfunctional in 21st Century California.
Resolving Historic Past Life Guilt
David Quigley shares a remarkable story in which a client is freed from the burden of guilt and shame of a previous historic incarnation
In the course of our adventures in the world of past life therapy, we Past Life Regression specialists in the hypnosis field sometimes run into a "famous figure” that is usually heroic. The historical veracity of such recollections can usually be well established by a bit of Research.
I have observed in my practice and studied in the literature numerous journeys into past lives where the historical evidence is irrefutable.
But here's a challenge! A client we'll call Roger (He prefers anonymity but is happy to have his story told) has felt like he was the Marquis de Lafayette his whole life. Identifying deeply with every aspect of this tragic hero's life. A hero ... I should make clear ... who won our American revolution and created American Democracy with his friend George Washington in numerous battles.
But in spite of being a hero in his own nation he failed to build a Democracy in his native France. And he was haunted by that failure.
But was this story REALLY Roger's past? Or a fantasy?
The challenge for Roger was that he had studied every detail of Lafayette's life in the history books. So historical details were not proof of authenticity. So were these historical memories a mere metaphor for Roger's present life? Was it a mere obsession with this champion of Democracy? Or was his "feeling" of being the Marquis accurate?
Here's how his higher self and I used archetypal subterfuge to find out the truth.
I had Lafayette in deep trance go FORWARD to the time of his death. Long after the French Revolution had vanished in blood and violence and Napoleon's conquests.
The Marquis rose above his dead body ... bitterly moaning... guilty over his FAILURE to save his country from tyranny. ( all of this historical fact ).
Then my voice became official as I commanded Lafayette that we must go before the Goddess of France ... "Notre Dame" in her great cathedral at the heart of France! "The Isle of the Citee!" Only there from HER will we learn of your guilt or innocence!" I commanded sternly.
A long two minutes of abject silence. Finally, the Marquis responded in confusion.
"I'm sorry, David... I can't see anything here. There's something wrong. All I see is a barren field." Both Roger and Lafayette were clearly in despair of finding the answers they sought.
"Now," I responded. " I am going down on my knees before you. Taking off my hat... in this barren field, we have now discovered you are the true Marquis de Lafayette.
Thank you for saving America."
Roger suddenly woke up. "What do you mean?" He said. "I'm completely confused. We went nowhere."
I explained. " Here's how we know. If your image of the Marquis was a pure metaphor ... an "archetype" ... You probably would have followed my clear instructions because the archetypal journey would lead us there ... to Notre Dame Cathedral ... quite naturally. You would not have seen the barren field."
But the MARQUIS saw a barren field. And was confused.
" Roger the historian ... and I ... know quite well what that barren field means in France. 1787... Right?"
Roger: "Of course! France totally lacked the political and philosophical backing .... the soil ..
For such a Democratic Revolution."
"Not to mention it's actual soils were depleted by centuries of medieval farming practices. And the French people were starving as a result."
Quigley: " Of course. A barren field. The obvious perfect image. Democracy was IMPOSSIBLE for France for this reason. You and I as historians will both know this."
"But THERE'S ONE OF US HERE who would not have known any of this. One Who has lived in the shadow of his terrible guilt for over two centuries. A man who needs to know what is so obvious to us historians."
"Close your eyes Roger. I need to talk to the Marquis."
I saw him kneeling in the field ... running the dust through his hands in a slowly dawning comprehension.
"Monsignor de Lafayette! the former Marshall and Champion of France ... you can finally let go of your shame and recognize ... at last... the truth. From the Goddess of the Nation. You could not have saved your beloved France. It was never your task. The soil was too barren in France. Now it is time to embrace your true heroism .... As a Champion of American Democracy."
All of us held space for him in that empty field. Which suddenly was transformed into the stockade of Yorktown on the great day of victory. The white sails of Lafayette's French fleet covering the distant horizon. Me. Roger and thousands of Continental soldiers gathered around the Marquis as his oldest and dearest friend George Washington appeared and formally presented him with the uniform and the sword of a General in the Continental Army of the newly formed United States of America. Tears streamed down his eyes. ... Roger's eyes ... as they released two hundred years of shame.
Two hundred years, our hero had waited. Suffering in silence and shame.
But not one more day.
That's Alchemical Past Life Regression.
>> Back to Past Lives
In the course of our adventures in the world of past life therapy, we Past Life Regression specialists in the hypnosis field sometimes run into a "famous figure” that is usually heroic. The historical veracity of such recollections can usually be well established by a bit of Research.
I have observed in my practice and studied in the literature numerous journeys into past lives where the historical evidence is irrefutable.
But here's a challenge! A client we'll call Roger (He prefers anonymity but is happy to have his story told) has felt like he was the Marquis de Lafayette his whole life. Identifying deeply with every aspect of this tragic hero's life. A hero ... I should make clear ... who won our American revolution and created American Democracy with his friend George Washington in numerous battles.
But in spite of being a hero in his own nation he failed to build a Democracy in his native France. And he was haunted by that failure.
But was this story REALLY Roger's past? Or a fantasy?
The challenge for Roger was that he had studied every detail of Lafayette's life in the history books. So historical details were not proof of authenticity. So were these historical memories a mere metaphor for Roger's present life? Was it a mere obsession with this champion of Democracy? Or was his "feeling" of being the Marquis accurate?
Here's how his higher self and I used archetypal subterfuge to find out the truth.
I had Lafayette in deep trance go FORWARD to the time of his death. Long after the French Revolution had vanished in blood and violence and Napoleon's conquests.
The Marquis rose above his dead body ... bitterly moaning... guilty over his FAILURE to save his country from tyranny. ( all of this historical fact ).
Then my voice became official as I commanded Lafayette that we must go before the Goddess of France ... "Notre Dame" in her great cathedral at the heart of France! "The Isle of the Citee!" Only there from HER will we learn of your guilt or innocence!" I commanded sternly.
A long two minutes of abject silence. Finally, the Marquis responded in confusion.
"I'm sorry, David... I can't see anything here. There's something wrong. All I see is a barren field." Both Roger and Lafayette were clearly in despair of finding the answers they sought.
"Now," I responded. " I am going down on my knees before you. Taking off my hat... in this barren field, we have now discovered you are the true Marquis de Lafayette.
Thank you for saving America."
Roger suddenly woke up. "What do you mean?" He said. "I'm completely confused. We went nowhere."
I explained. " Here's how we know. If your image of the Marquis was a pure metaphor ... an "archetype" ... You probably would have followed my clear instructions because the archetypal journey would lead us there ... to Notre Dame Cathedral ... quite naturally. You would not have seen the barren field."
But the MARQUIS saw a barren field. And was confused.
" Roger the historian ... and I ... know quite well what that barren field means in France. 1787... Right?"
Roger: "Of course! France totally lacked the political and philosophical backing .... the soil ..
For such a Democratic Revolution."
"Not to mention it's actual soils were depleted by centuries of medieval farming practices. And the French people were starving as a result."
Quigley: " Of course. A barren field. The obvious perfect image. Democracy was IMPOSSIBLE for France for this reason. You and I as historians will both know this."
"But THERE'S ONE OF US HERE who would not have known any of this. One Who has lived in the shadow of his terrible guilt for over two centuries. A man who needs to know what is so obvious to us historians."
"Close your eyes Roger. I need to talk to the Marquis."
I saw him kneeling in the field ... running the dust through his hands in a slowly dawning comprehension.
"Monsignor de Lafayette! the former Marshall and Champion of France ... you can finally let go of your shame and recognize ... at last... the truth. From the Goddess of the Nation. You could not have saved your beloved France. It was never your task. The soil was too barren in France. Now it is time to embrace your true heroism .... As a Champion of American Democracy."
All of us held space for him in that empty field. Which suddenly was transformed into the stockade of Yorktown on the great day of victory. The white sails of Lafayette's French fleet covering the distant horizon. Me. Roger and thousands of Continental soldiers gathered around the Marquis as his oldest and dearest friend George Washington appeared and formally presented him with the uniform and the sword of a General in the Continental Army of the newly formed United States of America. Tears streamed down his eyes. ... Roger's eyes ... as they released two hundred years of shame.
Two hundred years, our hero had waited. Suffering in silence and shame.
But not one more day.
That's Alchemical Past Life Regression.
>> Back to Past Lives
