Children's Past Lives: How Past Life Memories Affect Your Child
By Carol Bowman
Ian Stevenson's rigorous research proved that children's memories are real and natural. The past life therapists convinced me that these memories can heal. But where were the researchers and practitioners working with children? In several years of searching, I hadn't found them. So I decided to do my own research to confirm what I knew was true-children's past life memories can heal. Armed with the regression techniques I had learned from Norman Inge and Roger Woolger, and all that I had learned from my reading, I was ready to proceed. I decided to start regressing children myself to see what I could discover.
Seven-year-old Chase, now a seasoned past life explorer, was my first subject. One afternoon, without fanfare, I asked him if he was ready to try a regression with me. He said, "Sure, why not?" I had him lie down on his bed, close his eyes, and pay attention to his breathing. I was excited. But I was also nervous-not for what might happen, but for the event that nothing happened.
My apprehension disappeared as soon as I saw Chase's eyelids fluttering wildly. I asked, "What are you experiencing?"
Chase, with the now-familiar halting syntax of past life recall, told me of a life as a wood craftsman in fourteenth-century Russia. I was suspicious at first. Was this just a replay of the uneventful life as a woodcarver he had seen with Norman? No. Apparently, he had had this skill in another lifetime too. Chase described himself this time as a successful woodworker who was known throughout his district for his inventiveness and craftsmanship. He said that he had designed a corner shelf that was an innovation and became widely known, and because of that, his skills were in great demand. He mentioned that he had a family, and that he was happy. But his thoughts were focused on his achievement as a craftsman in this life, not on his relationships. He died a peaceful death as an old man, surrounded by his family.
Chase lay on the bed quietly, as i had seen him do previously after "dying" in a past life. "What did you learn from this lifetime?" I asked.
"If you have an idea and keep working at it, you will be successful." He continued, "Since I was successful, people came from all around to tell me their problems and ask my advice. It was easy for me to help them. It's good to share your wisdom freely." This was a startling nugget of philosophy coming from a seven-year-old
Chase smiled and opened his eyes. I could tell he was back in the present. About fifteen minutes had elapsed. Chase said that his regression had been fun and that the images of his Russian town were perfectly clear, as if he were really there. I asked him to draw the shelf he had designed. Closing his eyes to recall what he had seen, he drew a small ornamental comer shelf, with a curved design on the top and on the sides "That's it," he said proudly as he put the finishing touches on the tapers and rolls of the folk-art design. "Let's do that again," he added over his shoulder as he ran out of the room.
I had taken notes of Chase's regression. As I reread his words, I wondered if this lesson of perseverance would stay with him and guide him in his present life. Is wisdom from the past renewable through remembering? What a gift it would be, I thought, if Chase could start his life without having to relearn these lessons of focus and dedication.
A few days later I recruited Sarah to be my next subject. She went into trance quite easily with a suggestion to close her eyes, focus on her breathing, and go back to any past life. Sarah saw herself as a young girl in a hot, sunny landscape with clay buildings. She was an orphan who stayed alive by stealing food and hiding in whatever shelter she could find at night. Her survival depended on her stealth and speed. She said that she died young, killed for stealing food. Still in a trance, she did not seem to be sad or troubled by her untimely death. She felt relieved.
I asked her what her last thoughts were when she died: "I'm glad that life is over. It was too hard. I don't want to do that again."
I was curious about what she might be bringing with her into this lifetime, so I asked, "What did you learn from that life?"
"It's not enough just to run and steal to survive. That didn't work; I couldn't stay alive that way. I have to learn other skills to make a full life." When Sarah opened her eyes, she was surprised by what she had seen. "I'm glad I'm here now," she said with a relieved sigh.
How did this past life relate to present Sarah? I chuckled to myself as I realized that Sarah is very hardworking and practical, always saving and squirreling away her money. And she is fanatical about scouring the refrigerator for leftovers, because she can't stand to see any food wasted. Could her prudence have anything to do with this unconscious memory of deprivation?