Memoirs of My Lives: A Personal Journey Through Time and Space

Copyright © 2014 RJ Anthony.

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The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

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ISBN: 978-1-4525-1727-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4525-1728-5 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date: 11/04/2014

Contents

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Introduction

Asia

American Indian

Slavery

Sarah

English Navy

Franciscan Nun

Nazi Germany

French Nobility

Underground World

Pleiadian Connections

Disembodied Incarnation

Memory Retrieval

About the Author

Acknowledgements

I would like to express my everlasting gratitude to my fellow spirit travelers…

Myrna Nelson

I can never thank you enough; may you wear the green dress forever.

Dixie Caris

Thank you for spending so many hours working with me.

Without all of your loving support and encouragement this book would never have been possible.

Dedication

This book is lovingly dedicated to you and the seekers of truth everywhere.

Introduction

F or thousands of years mankind has been asking the questions, who am I? Where do I come from? What will happen to me when I die? Some people find fulfillment in looking into their ancestral lineage for clues to their origins. At one time I did the same, but ultimately found a more inward journey to be far more enlightening. It became an ongoing examination of myself gaining me a sense of confidence I’d never felt before, and I’ve reveled in it ever since. Understanding past experiences more fully, and knowing I was capable of surviving these major challenges helped me feel as though I could more successfully navigate the current obstacles in my life with greater acceptance, joy, and excitement.

Often I have read inspirational quotes found in new age publications, daily affirmation materials, and even on social media websites. While I have found these quotable notations to be valuable, I’ve noticed they tend to be somewhat fleeting, and I have ended up searching for more in order to remain inspired. These external sources of strength are useful, but I have often found myself disappointed when unable to find any to help me get through my day. Knowing I have lead one particular lifetime or another has always been interesting, but I’ve discovered the power of the details therein to be an enormous source of inner strength that does not fade over time.

Many people have debated the idea of whether we live one life, or many. Obviously I am one who believes in many lifetimes. It is not my intention to prove the philosophy one way or another within these collective works. If you are looking to explore that argument you have the wrong book in your hands, but keep this one because you will need it for the next level of your research, for here we have another purpose. As other people became interested in my research I decided to chronicle the discoveries of my past, and potentially future lives here in this autobiographical examination. It is therapeutic for me to do these exercises as well for it helps me to remember more of the details. I offer this document to you in order that you might understand why I have made this search of myself through time, and to perhaps help you on your journey as well.

I have constructed this book in two intertwining parts. One part is a sharing of how I regained my memories, along with some of the wisdom I gained by remembering. The second part is a sharing of those experiences with you. In all cases I have tried to stay as true to the visions as possible. In other words where there are gaps in memory I left it that way. I felt to fill in gaps with imaginings or excessive story telling would take me further away from the truth and important teachings. A more personal hope is to find a copy of this book early on in my next incarnation on planet Earth in the hopes I will get my memories back sooner than I did this time around. I see it as a sort of Message in a Bottle to myself.

I have never agreed with the teachings that we are supposed to forget our experiences. I mean no offense to those who believe this way, but it just never resonated for me. It seems to me that by the time we have lived a life to it’s fullest, and learned how life works, then we die, and must start again without any memory of our life’s lessons. It has been said that we are the sum of our experiences.

We learn and grow by what we do, and by what we fail to do. I think it reasonable that we should retain our memories in order to live with greater wisdom each time we incarnate. Most people I’ve met at one time or another has said that if they had to live their life over again they would do it differently. Most even say the decisions they made in youth are the ones they would most likely change. Therefore I believe it is not only appropriate to regain the memories of our experiences, but I also feel it is our responsibility to teach our children the practice so they could most benefit.

I would like to take a moment to tell you how I perceive memories from other incarnations. When describing the experience to clients I have often compared these memories to those of my childhood. I remember being a child in this life, but that person no longer exists. It is very much the same when it comes to past life recall. Furthermore, I remember being other children as well as the opposite gender including other races. It can be a little unsettling at first, but that quickly fades when you get used to the waters. In my experience most people at first tend to only see lifetimes where they were the same sex as they currently are at present, so don’t be surprised if you see a lot of this at first. Most of us are taught it is impossible for men to understand women, and women will never comprehend what it is like to be a man. The same stale arguments holds true between the races of human kind as well. Keep in mind that this is just old thinking and this kind of bad programming is more easily deleted from our systems than one might think at first. Once these kinds of prejudicial blockages are released the energy flows more freely uncovering a greater quality and quantity of memories.

Also one might conclude by the choices of stories I have included in with this collection that I have had nothing but grand adventures in my other lives when quite the opposite is true. Many of the lives I have remembered were simple ordinary lives where nothing remarkable took place. When I compare them to my more eventful lives, I tend to think of these as vacation lives. For example, I have memory of being a short plump Polynesian woman. She was about 35 when she died of a fever. She gave birth to two sons during the course of her life. Her husband died a few years previous. Luau style celebrations were her favorite, and I believe one or both of her sons were fire dancers. I can also remember one frightening storm, probably a hurricane, but it just scattered things about. Back then they didn’t live with concrete and steel so clean up was rather simple by comparison. They quickly rebuilt and cleaned up their hut village and got back to fishing and the business of living simply with nature. Although the life’s experiences has tremendous value for my soul, it doesn’t make for very exciting reading. With some other lives I’ve remembered, I simply haven’t recalled enough of the memories to know their whole stories yet.

I have also uncovered memories of being in animal form. I have been whale, dolphin, hawk, and several types of cats to name a few. I did some work writing these lives, and they came out sounding like a nature documentary. While I can remember visions and feelings from being in these forms, daily events are difficult to recall. Perhaps due to the fact that not much changes in their day to day lives, maybe they just don’t create unnecessary drama in their lives. As a cetacean, being far more connected to instinct than while in human form, I remember migration being such a strong physical drive that it was actually painful if we resisted the pull of it for long. I remember intellectualizing the constant back and forth pull between the desire to breed and the need to eat. As a cat I remember stalking a lot. All day everyday, playing, hunting, communicating, stalking was involved in all of it. Throughout the exercise I asked myself, how many times could I write about the different ways to stalk various things? Perhaps as I continue this work I will uncover more of the memories and include them in another volume.

Names were also a challenge in this work. I have always had a hard time remembering people’s names. I found my trip through time to be no different. With some of my lives I couldn’t remember any names at all. Some I could remember full names, while others I just got bits and pieces. Writing stories without names, I have found, are sometimes difficult to follow. Consequently this is one of the very few areas of the book where I have allowed myself to take a little artistic liberty giving the characters names when I could not remember them when it made the story easier to read.

This is a work in progress, and has taken many years to compile. My search will continue on passed the date of publication, so if we get the chance to meet in the future feel free to ask questions. With that being said; let’s get started.

Asia

T here is an affinity I have toward Asia that is unlike any other. I believe it has been a while since I incarnated there, as modern images of China, Japan, and Southeast Asia do not stir memories in me like the images of the ancient places and traditional cultures. It is difficult to know however just when I did live there. For this reason I have written this chapter geared more toward the region rather than specific time periods. The Orient in general is a place where customs, fashion, artwork, architecture, etc. didn’t change much for thousands of years. Perhaps this is due to their being a closed society for so long there just weren’t very many new influences to explore. For instance it takes a skilled person to determine when an old porcelain vase is from one dynasty or another due to the subtleties in form and color changes. On the other hand it is much easier to distinguish time periods and regional differences in European art for instance.

Being such an ancient and still thriving mix of societies, Asia has seen many souls pass in and out throughout its living history. By the same token, I believe probably most everyone has visited there at least once. For myself I have had many visions of my participation in the Asian cultures. The following is an accounting of my memories of this rich and mystical region of our planet.

Child

Some people ask, Why do the children die? As a species we tend to judge what is good or bad based on how it affects our children. When many children die due to our actions, we decide that our actions are horrible. Unfortunately we as human beings need much horror before we choose that our actions are too extreme. I believe this life took place during the Korean\American conflict of the mid 20th century.

* * * * *

I was a small boy about five or six I think. There was thunder again today but this time it was very loud and close. I know now that sometimes the thunder was the explosions of the bombs. My mother had always held me safe from the scary sounds. She would sing to me. Today was different though. Thunder had struck our house. There was a big hole in the roof of our hut, and some of one wall had fallen down. My mother would not wake up. I stayed with her a long time shaking her while I cried. The thunder just seemed to get louder. I was scared. I shook my mother again to try and wake her, but still she did not move. I could hear the sounds of more thunder all around the village. There were also sounds I couldn’t identify, and they were getting louder, closer.

I didn’t know what to do so I ran outside. There was smoke all around. There were people lying in the street. Some were quiet and still. Some moved slowly and moaned or cried. They were hurt. I could see their blood. There was a lot of blood.

I looked to my left. In the middle of the road there was a little girl. She was a bit older than a baby, but she was dressed like one. She was dirty and crying all by herself in the middle of the road. I wondered where her mother was, then without warning, the whole road where she was sitting exploded with thunder. I don’t know where the little girl went, but I was hurt. My leg was bleeding. There was a big stick in my stomach. I looked around but everything was fuzzy, then everything went black.

Monk

I see myself wearing the traditional yellow and maroon robes of a Buddhist monk. I live on the grounds of a large monastery complex along with hundreds of other monks. Judging by the style of the buildings and statues I believe it to be in Southeast Asia, possibly Thailand. I came to live there as a small orphan boy as did a great many priests. It becomes a way of life when there are few other choices, and being a priest dedicated to spiritual teachings is considered an honorable if uneventful devotion for one’s life.

My days are spent mostly in prayer and meditation or cleaning the monastery grounds. Although I confess that most of my thoughts are not of the Buddha, but rather on my own circumstances. I ask myself often, why do I exist? Why have I come to this place? Am I fulfilling my purpose? I am consumed by these thoughts and often annoy the other priests with my constant questioning. They tell me I am there because I was orphaned, and as long as I do my duties I am fulfilling my purpose. These answers are meaningless to me as my questions run far deeper, but my superiors sometimes thought I might be stupid and just couldn’t understand. I understood fine, I just wasn’t interested in their simple answers.

Every year in the spring we have a festival. Of all the seasonal festivals we priests are responsible for throwing for our large village, the spring celebration is my favorite. I love the colors and fragrance of the flowers, and I was happy to work with the other priests spending weeks prior to the event twisting blooms on vines making long garlands to decorate the village. After many years