I will tell you what happened in that other lifetime …
It was a century or so ago; I was a child in India. I was a child of two or three; I had just learned to walk. I was with my mom at a market in India. You know, the markets in India … they are not like markets in the United States. It is an open air market, and there is a lot of commotion and confusion.
A sadhu walked by. To me, he was an older person; but probably, I guess, maybe in his thirties. And he had the typical sadhu appearance …
Image: “Sadhus Walking on Kathmandu Durbar Square,” taken by Peter Akkermans, Konica Minolta Digital Camera, Nepal, May 2007; transferred from en.wikipedia to Commons by Usr: Quadell, CC BY-SA 3.0 Unported
Image: “Sadhus Walking on Kathmandu Durbar Square,” taken by Peter Akkermans, Konica Minolta Digital Camera, Nepal, May 2007; transferred from en.wikipedia to Commons by Usr: Quadell, CC BY-SA 3.0 Unported
. . . . .
I was intrigued by his spiritual air. Even at the age of two or three, I had an interest in spirituality. Magically … I started following him. And while I was following him … I was not even aware of it … I lost my mother in the crowd.
I found myself in completely strange surroundings. He turned; and he saw me following him. He saw the look in my eyes, that I wanted to be a spiritual student of his. His eyes hardened, and he threw me down into a filthy gutter.
There I was, completely lost, and covered with foul matter! And you know, life is not of much value in India … or at least, back then it was not.
I was crying in the gutter, and a woman found me, and took pity on me. She cleaned me, and fed me, and raised me up as if I were her own child. I was extremely fortunate in that!
In my latter years … after I had married a husband, and raised my children … there was time, at the end of my life, for me to practice kirtan. There were years in which I was able to practice kirtan every day, and sing with the other ladies in the temple. It was pretty cool. It was a very cool experience!
But the thing is, the sadhu later incarnated as a guru well respected by many people even today. What am I to do? For me, that kind of person is not the kind of teacher for me. For the next person, it might be just their cup of tea.
On an Attitude of Religious Tolerance
I think we, as spiritual people … during this process when everybody’s thoughts are becoming transparent to everybody else … I think we need to stand back, and be very copacetic with all the other spiritual groups’ religious beliefs … with their spiritual teachers, their ascended masters, and their gurus.
If we are Christian, let us not laugh at people who are Buddhist; Buddhism is their sincere belief. If we are people who have had bad experiences, in past lifetimes, with spiritual teachers that are much revered by groups today, then let us give them the space to do what they wish.
And let us be careful not to criticize them in any way: For this is their choice, on their path to higher consciousness. And most particularly, let us not curse other people, simply because they are not on our spiritual path. Let us not harbor vengeance, or hardness of heart, or desire to get even with them for not believing what we believe.
Otherwise, as the Ascension process continues, we will create for ourselves a terrible experience of hell … or I should say, purgatory … because there in the middle of us, in our hearts, that is where we are not free to express our true selves, because of the opinion of other people.
There is something about forgiveness … It just immediately lifts up the heart, and lifts up the Soul to a higher level of the astral plane. It is not an easy thing to do. In my case there are people that have been pursuing me on the astral plane for years for this reason.
And I used to take it very seriously. Witchcraft? No, I do not think so! … Curses? No, I do not think so! These charms, and this manipulation of the second chakra, to get me to be a different way? I do not think so! I Am I! I Am That Am!
Today, it got to be pretty excruciating again. So finally I thought: Why not just laugh and let it go? … I will have a little fun … I will make it a lighthearted situation.
Most likely, it is not the spiritual teachers that are involved; most likely it is the group consensus. It is the social contract of the group that is causing this. And if the purpose of the group is to be in consensus, each with the other, because everyone is concerned about everybody else’s opinion, then a little lighthearted fun might have them go away.
I tried a little of that. I did not want to be too heavy duty; but like a little child: Oh my gosh. this is so silly! I can’t believe it! And that worked out right well for me.
–revised and excerpted from Link: “Purgatory: Astral Subplane 4N,” by Alice B. Clagett, filmed on 16 August 2015; published on 22 April 2016 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-5a7 ..
. . . . .
In love, light and joy
This is Alice B. Clagett.
I Am of the Stars … and so are you!
Previously entitled: “Tiny Anthologies: Incarnational Memories” … and … “Tiny Anthologies: My Incarnational Memories” … and … “Tiny Anthologies: My Memories of Other Incarnations”
Compiled from prior blogs on 10 February 2019; most recently revised on 25 February 2023.
I had a wonderful vision last night. I will do my best to describe it …
Last night the air was full of the grace coming into the field of humanity through the ongoing coronal mass ejections. Sometimes it felt like nectar, thick like honey, deep and nourishing.
The soul of Earth, the astral plane, had for a week been roiling and clearing. My experience of reality had been shifting moment to moment, and this shifting had been accelerating all day. By nightfall, the panorama of earthly scenes and scenarios came and went in the wink of an eye, interspersed with moments of peaceful tranquility, with a footing in what I’ve in this lifetime known as ‘reality’.
I took a rest at nightfall, and when I awoke, the air was blurry. Was I going through a veil? I heard this gentle admonition: Go out in the back yard. Waste not a moment — do it now! So I did. The moment I stepped outdoors the air became more clear.
In the dark, cool night, as I stood in the back yard, I heard a motor vehicle drive up and park on the street in front of my house, and the threat energy intensified. Then I felt the soles of my feet on the ground. I saw the distant, gentle starshine, and noticed that the coyotes, with their rustling, and their melodious, poignant songs, had gone off somewhere. All was still.
I said to myself: I will go to the front yard and stand in conscious awareness before this threat energy. The minute I thought that, I heard the engine start, and the vehicle sped away.
As I walked toward the house, I remembered a lifetime in a village in Southeast Asia. I was a strong young man. There was a threat of a tiger on the prowl.
I walked to my back porch, to the patio door, and saw a reflection of myself. The dress and blanket I was wearing, and my reflected face, shifted to the image of that young Asian monk. Then it shifted again, to another, older monk, with the left side of his face greatly disfigured by the claws of a tiger. I watched his eyes, and saw that, for him, the wounding was countered by the steady calm of his Soul. And I remembered the story …
The Story
The tiger came to the village, and attacked the head monk. This monk asked me to go and kill the tiger. He told me how to do so with compassion, so that the peace and tranquility of this world would be upheld.
And so I did. As the tiger lay dying, I saw her two children, and I felt her desperate desire to protect and nourish them. I looked into her eyes and promised her: Set these concerns aside and pass on in peace. I shall protect and cherish thy children.
In an alternate world, I saw her to be a woman in human form; a woman at the same time fierce and loving, deeply steeped in Spirit.
And then the tiger passed on. I carried her two cubs back to the village, to the pallet where my teacher lay, with a healing poultice on the left side of his face. My teacher blessed the tiger’s children.
Time passed, and I never ceased to tell them the story of their mother’s courage, and of the fierce love she had for them. They grew tall and handsome, one walking on either side of me through the forests round the village. They were like my own sons, and I their father.
–revised and excerpted from Link: Incarnational Stories by Alice: The Children of the Tiger,” by Alice B. Clagett, published on 26 October 2013 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-7a9 ..
. . . . .
In love, light and joy
This is Alice B. Clagett.
I Am of the Stars … and so are you!
Previously entitled: “Tiny Anthologies: Incarnational Memories” … and … “Tiny Anthologies: My Incarnational Memories” … and … “Tiny Anthologies: My Memories of Other Incarnations”
Compiled from prior blogs on 10 February 2019; most recently revised on 25 February 2023.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . H-12. Foregleam . A Prose Poem Written on about 1967; imaged on 9 April 2021; published on 10 April 2021
Introduction
“Foregleam”
Notes
Introduction
This prose poem hails from my college days. As I recall it was composed while I was reading the “Canterbury Tales” written in Middle English between the years 1387 and 1400 by Geoffrey Chaucer, whose work I much admired.
I recall being astounded by the words in the poem, as they came ‘out of the blue’. At time, it seemed to me as if I were that older woman described in the passage. It is as if I were standing in her body.
I did not know what to make of it. Was it really to be me, in this present incarnation, as the years rolled on? Was it someone else, someone I had been in the Middle Ages? To be frank, I was baffled.
When I came across this poem some years ago, I thought to include it in the tales of my incarnational memories noted below. You must make of it what you will.
“Foregleam”
A Prose Poem by Alice B. Clagett
ca. 1967
Though now the grey subdued her raven hair
Her step was light and lithesome as a maid’s,
And yet her eyes did sparkle in her face
As do the sparrow’s, chortling in spring’s wake.
Her frame, dainty and slim, but strong withal,
Was like the reed which, troubled by the wind,
Will only bow its head and, in the calm,
Stand up the stronger, although not so tall.
Her garment was of simple brown and white.
Her voice was bright and knowing, fairy-like,
And often would she gaze into the air
In contemplation, fingertip on mouth.
It mattered naught how cold or wet the day.
In any kind of weather she would walk.
Whenever she was asked to speak her mind,
First quode she always, “Well now, let me see.”
And ever was her speech as calm and sweet
As whispering fountain on a sunlit morn.
………………………………….. Notes
The word ‘quode’ I take to mean ‘spake’ or ‘responded’; I believe this is a word from medieval times that might also have been in use during the European Renaissance (given the imaginative use of various spellings of words, even within one literary work, during those times … and even up until the end of the 19th Century, during the days of my grandparents here in the United States). I feel it may be kin to the words ‘quedan’ (Old High German), ‘cwethan’ (Old English), and ‘quethen’ (Middle English, past tense ‘quoth’).
Here is an instance from “A merry iest how a sergeant would learne to playe the frere, written by maister Thomas More in hys youth” …
“In dede quode he,
“It hath with me,
“Bene better than it is.”
–from Citatoin: “The History of the English Language” [link broken] … The poem is public domain because it is so old.
Sir Thomas More, who was sainted, lived from 1478 to 1535, during the European Renaissance.
. . . . .
Image: “Foregleam,” a poem composed and handwritten by Alice B. Clagett, ca. 1967, CC BY-SA 4.0 International, from “Awakening with Planet Earth,” https://awakeningwithplanetearth.com ..
Image: “Foregleam,” a poem composed and handwritten by Alice B. Clagett, ca. 1967, CC BY-SA 4.0 International, from “Awakening with Planet Earth,” https://awakeningwithplanetearth.com ..
–from Link: “Foregleam,” a prose poem by Alice B. Clagett, written ca. 1967; imaged on 9 April 2021; published on 10 April 2021 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-mjK ..
, , , , ,
In love, light and joy
This is Alice B. Clagett.
I Am of the Stars … and so are you!
Previously entitled: “Tiny Anthologies: Incarnational Memories” … and … “Tiny Anthologies: My Incarnational Memories” … and … “Tiny Anthologies: My Memories of Other Incarnations”
Compiled from prior blogs on 10 February 2019; most recently revised on 25 February 2023.
I have three stories to tell about incarnations I remember (just a few of them), and my understanding of what I have learned or what is happening. My thought is that it may help other people to interpret their own circumstances; to trace them back; and to repair the wounding of old incarnations that were traumatic, and created time loops in our etheric net that need to be untangled and straightened out so that we can be in our full glory. So that’s my thought, and here are the stories. I hope I do them justice.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Story of the Two Warrior Friends
There was a time, a long time ago, when I was a warrior. I had a friend who was a companion in arms. It was a very, very long time ago, before the discovery of America, and before the European continent became civilized.
I was a warrior by trade. My friend and I stuck together through thick and thin. War is a very difficult experience, and so it is good to have a friend. We survived a lot of battles. We were kind of rough-hewn; you might have called us barbarians, from the vantage point of current civilization.
My friend had a woman; in current, civilized terms you might call her his wife. I was not the civilized sort; one time he found me with her, in an extremely compromising situation … in flagrante delicto, you might say. He became enraged, and he killed me on the spot.
Now the last thing I remember about that stabbing death is that I loved him, as a comrade-in-arms, and I hoped for his forgiveness. The anguish of that death without finding forgiveness was embedded in my body at the site of the wound.
A terrible story! These are the kinds of stories that we remember, though! They are the first to come back into our Awareness … not all the good stories; just the terrible stories … because those are the ones to do with Soul wounding.
[This story is also recounted in “Stories About War.”]
Image: “Forest Deva and Nature Spirit,” adapted and compiled by Alice B. Clagett, 26 April 2021, CC BY-SA 4.0, , from “Awakening with Planet Earth,” https://awakeningwithplanetearth.com … CREDITS: Image: “Sculpture of an Angel as a Gravestone,” by hugovk, 25 March 2006, German Wiktionary … https://de.wiktionary.org/wiki/Datei:Brooklands_cemetery_angel1.jpg … CC BY-SA 2.0. Image: “”Fairies Looking Through A Gothic Arch,” by John Anster Fitzgerald, ca. 1864, in Wikimedia Commons … https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Fairy_passage.jpg … public domain … DESCRIPTION: A winged being in a long robe stands in a forest, facing to right. On its shoulder is a tiny, winged nature spirit or faerie … COMMENT: This image is intended to portray a forest deva and a faerie (which is one sort of nature spirit). As you may know, a deva is a particular kind of angel that cares for some aspect of Earth. In this case, it is a deva that cares for a particular forest. Nature spirits, I feel, are baby angels; in this case we could guess the nature spirit is a baby forest deva.
Image: “Forest Deva and Nature Spirit,” adapted and compiled by Alice B. Clagett, 26 April 2021, CC BY-SA 4.0, , from “Awakening with Planet Earth,” https://awakeningwithplanetearth.com …
DESCRIPTION: A winged being in a long robe stands in a forest, facing to right. On its shoulder is a tiny, winged nature spirit or faerie …
COMMENT: This image is intended to portray a forest deva and a faerie (which is one sort of nature spirit). As you may know, a deva is a particular kind of angel that cares for some aspect of Earth. In this case, it is a deva that cares for a particular forest. Nature spirits, I feel, are baby angels; in this case we could guess the nature spirit is a baby forest deva.
. . . . .
Many lifetimes went by. And eventually I found myself in the nature spirit world. I was a nature spirit, and I had a particular deva that I was very fond of. A deva is a very wise overseer nature spirit dweller on the astral plane. They live for a very long time; longer than humans. In fact, my deva may still be alive!
I was tiny; the deva was a huge and magnificent energy. I used to just hang around with my deva, in total awe and adoration.
One day, I found myself, as a nature spirit, near a beautiful pool of water in a forest.
This was in the rustic times, when people lived in small villages. There were some human children, playing and diving in the water. And I thought to myself: I would really like to be a human! I saw a child that I recognized there, and that was the cause of my longing.
Image: “Hylas and the Water Nymphs,” by Henrietta Rae, ca. 1909, in Wikimedia Commons … https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hylas_and_the_Water_Nymphs.jpg … public domain … DESCRIPTION: On the left is a pond in the forest. In the pond are blooming water lilies. In the pond play six beautiful young water nymphs, with flowers in their hair. To the right, on the bank of the pond, kneels a young man with a cloth around his waist, and an ornate piece of cloth flung over his right shoulder. He is looking up at a beautiful water nymph standing behind him, and leaning towards him … COMMENT: This image reminds me of an incarnational memory of meeting my true love at a pond in a deep forest many centuries ago. Only, we were all young children, growing up together in the forest, and we two … Tom and I … became pledged our troth at a much younger age. It was at about the age of the young people in the image that we two consummated our union. It is interesting that, in my incarnational memory, I was first a nature spirit in that forest, and then became a human child because of a young boy I saw playing in the pond; in a similar way, the image shows nature spirits as being fond of the young man by the pond.
DESCRIPTION: On the left is a pond in the forest. In the pond are blooming water lilies. In the pond play six beautiful young water nymphs, with flowers in their hair. To the right, on the bank of the pond, kneels a young man with a cloth around his waist, and an ornate piece of cloth flung over his right shoulder. He is looking up at a beautiful water nymph standing behind him, and leaning towards him …
COMMENT: This image reminds me of an incarnational memory of meeting my true love at a pond in a deep forest many centuries ago. Only, we were all young children, growing up together in the forest, and we two … Tom and I … became pledged our troth at a much younger age. It was at about the age of the young people in the image that we two consummated our union. It is interesting that, in my incarnational memory, I was first a nature spirit in that forest, and then became a human child because of a young boy I saw playing in the pond; in a similar way, the image shows nature spirits as being fond of the young man by the pond.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Life as a Human Woman in the Forest, and Death in Childbirth
In the twinkling of an eye, my deva arranged it! Before I knew it, I was a baby in that village! And as time went on, I, who as a nature spirit had fallen in love with that young boy, found myself married to him.
And what do you know?! It was the same Soul as that comrade-in-arms from whom I had sought forgiveness so long ago. In this new incarnation as girl and boy, we were deeply and passionately in love.
At a young age we were married. Before I knew it, I was with child. Before summer days rolled round again, I found myself giving birth. And in the process of giving birth to a beautiful baby girl, I lost my life.
The last thing that I remembered was my life blood draining out of me, over my legs, as I lay on my back, on the forest floor. And a terrible concern for my husband, whom I loved dearly, and for my child, who had just been born. As I left my body, through my astral spirit I asked my husband if he would please take care of our child. And he agreed.
I wrote this poem about that lifetime …
Image: “Hermia and Lysander: A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” by John Simmons, 1870, in English Wikipedia … https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Simmons-Hermia_and_Lysander._A_Midsummer_Night%27s_Dream.jpg … public domain … COMMENTS: Shakespeare’s play was set in Athens, but it looks to me as if the characters may have been transported to the very forest setting in which the poem “Tom o’ the Forest” took place. –by Alice B. Clagett
Image: “Hermia and Lysander: A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” by John Simmons, 1870, in English Wikipedia … https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Simmons-Hermia_and_Lysander._A_Midsummer_Night%27s_Dream.jpg … public domain … COMMENTS: Shakespeare’s play was set in Athens, but it looks to me as if the characters may have been transported to the very forest setting in which the poem “Tom o’ the Forest” took place. –by Alice B. Clagett
. . . . .
Tom o’ the Forest – Version 1
A Poem by Alice B. Clagett 4 January 2018
Ah, Tom! Tom o’ the Forest!
Would that I had been there
with you, my own dear love,
as our child grew in strength . . . and beauty
Would, if I could, . . . have stopped the flow . . . . . . of my life blood . . . . . . . . . such loss . . . . . . . . . such pallor . . . . . . . . . . . . out onto the brown leaves . . . . . . . . . . . . by the woodland pool . . . . . . . . . . . . where we once bathed
Dearest my love
Such a long and weary while . . . Stood I by your own side, . . . . . . sighing
The blade that longing . . . lent your throat . . . . . . sliced mine . . . . . . . . . as well
Tom of my life
Tom of my seried lives’ yearning
Blest be the day
when our twained paths
once more marry
Version 2
Another soundtrack of this poem, using Alice’s voice …
Because of that terrible experience I had, of deepest love won, and suddenly lost through death, I went back to the nature realm for a while. What was happening back on Earth, with my husband and my child? My husband went into a terrible depression. He couldn’t get over my death. And after a few years, in his despondency, he committed suicide.
And my child was left to survive on her own, with the help of friends in the village. So that is the story of how I left my deva for love of a human boy.
Many many years went by. Modern times came. And some fifteen years ago, I was walking along, and I felt a great thrilling of my Soul. A great resonance with some energy nearby. And before long I found that this resonance had to do with a man and a woman who were friends.
I felt a strong kinship with both of them, on the spiritual plane. I did not know why; I couldn’t explain it. I could tell that the woman did not like me! And I could tell that the man was afraid of me. Shortly after that, the man and the woman got married.
It took a long time, listening telepathically, to figure out what had happened. The closest I can tell you is this:
The man I met in this lifetime was the man I was married to in the forest: Tom of the Forest. The woman he married in this lifetime was my daughter born in the forest. He had decided, in this lifetime, to provide for her the love, the emotional support, that he was unable to provide in that lifetime.
He did not want to have anything to do with me, because of the pain of that separation when I died in childbirth long ago. She did not want to have anything to do with me because she was still feeling deserted by her mother from those ancient times.
–revised and excerpted from Link: “Reincarnation – Ascension – Freedom of Mind,” by Alice B. Clagett, published on 25 September 2014 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-7mp ..
. . . . .
In love, light and joy
This is Alice B. Clagett.
I Am of the Stars … and so are you!
Previously entitled: “Tiny Anthologies: Incarnational Memories” … and … “Tiny Anthologies: My Incarnational Memories” … and … “Tiny Anthologies: My Memories of Other Incarnations”
Compiled from prior blogs on 10 February 2019; most recently revised on 25 February 2023.
Image: “tea-plantation-6723806_640 [adapted],” by Ian Procter from Pixabay, ianproc64, Pixabay content license
Image: “tea-plantation-6723806_640 [adapted],” by Ian Procter from Pixabay, ianproc64, Pixabay content license
. . . . .
I thought I would tell you a story about a dream I had today. I came back from an early morning walk, and I fell asleep, and I had a dream. The dream went like this: I was a human being, on a planet that was not Earth. It was Light years from Earth. I was sitting and meditating, as I do here.
While I meditated, I started thinking about the far-flung human race … all the other humans on other planets and in other solar systems in my Universe. The minute I thought it, my Awareness went to another planet that had humans on it.
I saw that these humans were trapped and enslaved by a cruel alien species. They had, essentially, no free will, and the Light of their hearts had been chained down; had been darkened. The memory of the greatness that they really were, they had forgotten.
My heart went out to them. Suddenly I was there on that planet. I could see a little child about 3 years old, a little girl, sitting on someone’s lap. I felt such compassion for her. With my hand, I touched her heart. I blessed her that she should be free; and all her people should be free.
The minute I did that, my world view turned upside down, and suddenly, I was that child, looking out from that world, and that world was this one.
It was very jarring for me … It was not bad or good; it was just an amazing sensation, to be a human being from such a different place. And then, all of a sudden, to be here, in a human body, in this solar system … a completely different place.
–revised and excerpted from Link: “Unseen Forces,” stories and visions by Alice B. Clagett, filmed on 11 July 2013; published on 12 July 2013; revised on 29 June 2018 and 27 February 2023 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-6AO ..
. . . . .
In love, light and joy
This is Alice B. Clagett.
I Am of the Stars … and so are you!
Previously entitled: “Tiny Anthologies: Incarnational Memories” … and … “Tiny Anthologies: My Incarnational Memories” … and … “Tiny Anthologies: My Memories of Other Incarnations”
Compiled from prior blogs on 10 February 2019; most recently revised on 27 February 2023.
