Eliza: Shadows of the Past
As I was going through some papers, I came upon an email that was originally written in 2010. In it, I was relating my impressions of a “past” life:
I’m a very different person that that young man of nearly 2,000 years ago and yet he is within me, the same idealistic healer / artistic heart. In those days, I was “gifted” with the Sight. It came from the little dark people of my mother’s blood, those who lived in the wild lands of the mountains. Yet I had the fiery Celtic heart of my father, a chieftain of the Carveti and kinsman to the King of the Brigantes. As an infant, I as chosen by the Druid of my people to be trained as a druid. I was fostered out to Mona at the tender age of seven. I had been born in the springtime of the year of the return of the Romans to the shores of our island, Albion. With the taking of Caractus, the great war-leader, by the Romans, I lived with the shame of my people. Caractus had been betrayed by our queen.
Later, after I was sent home by the Druids, I Saw the betrayal and then the downfall and death of Mona. Something died in me that day, my heart. I repudiated by Gift of Sight. When the second rebellion of Venetius came, I answered the Cran-Tara and died with my kinsmen at the foot of the turf bank of Stanwyck, a Roman gladius in my heart, my dead heart. And in my next lifetime, I was born among the Roman kind and stood with Hadrian and his legions with the subduing of the British province.
… I knew what had been written about the Druids was not the truth.
With great clarity, I understood your hatred of leadership. You were one of the leaders (the email is addressed to the reincarnated soul of a Head Druid) who betrayed his order, his people and his heart. You knew it had to be done, but you were a Celt, too. Your contempt of leaders, temporal and spiritual, comes from the shame you felt then. And it was the same shame that killed me even though my body was still breathing. You have not forgiven yourself for what was done, not entirely. And so, there is an opportunity to release this thing that stands between us.
I am a different person now, but in the last couple of days I have been wrestling with the pain, anger, grief and shame that these memories have finally released to my outer consciousness. I know what was done; I saw it. I know why it was done, but the pain is still there. I am a Celt today, with the blood on both sides, mother and father. And I have a bit of my old gift except now I feel my visions. My Sight has not returned because of the ancient vow I took on the day I Saw Mona die.
To the Reader: If you’re not one who has studied British history or what now passes for it, like I have… you may not know the incident to which I am referring above. Ancient pre-Roman Britain, or Albion, was divided up into tribes, mostly made up of the recent emigrants, the Celts, who had come over from Gaul during different periods. More ancient peoples made up the population of what is now called Wales. The mysterious Picts ruled much of the northeast of Alba, what is now known as Scotland. Britain was also governed after a fashion by an ancient order of holy men and women, the Druids.
The island of Anglesey, sitting off the northwest coast of Wales was then called Mona. It was home to a Druidic college that drew students from all over Alba, Albion and Erie (Ireland), as well as Gaul and other Celtic lands. The druids taught their students the natural sciences, mathematics, the art of governing, poetry, music, languages and much else. Druids served as counselors to kings, as healers, and as poet musicians who wrote and memorized the story of their tribes, including the genealogy of the people. Some of the druids were quite powerful magicians and used their powers to keep balance in the elements of the islands. Other druids were seers and prophets. When the Romans landed for a second time on the shores of Albion, they knew what was coming, for them and for the people of the island.
When the Roman army struck at Mona, they left the eastern part of the island almost completely unprotected. Here, in the rich fenlands northeast of the present city of London, the drama of Boudicca and her “daughters” was played out. My email story continues:
Boudicca was a queen (my friend insisted “priestess” and war queen) from the matrilineal line; she was Goddess to her people. The Dark Goddess (the goddess of War and Death) rode Boudicca like a horse when the killing time came. Her people knew it, so they followed her without question. Their hatred and anger of the Romans was intense.
Boudicca knew that she might die and went to her death without fear. She “died” the day that her husband died. All that remained behind for her was the Dark Goddess of the Triad. The Romans made sure of it on the day that they scourged and raped her and her “daughters” (or acolytes). With the death of her daughters, the Royal Line of the Iceni died, also. Boudicca chose death from the poison brewed by her nurse rather than death at the hands of the Romans. Her people had died with her daughters in the last battle with Paulinius.
My friend goes on to tell me that the Romans would have never overcome the Druids on their own. But the future was known (by the Druidic leaders) and could not be controverted. In order for the future to be what it needed to be, the Romans needed help. And so, betrayal entered the frame. And there is still healing required around this…
When I was physically present on Anglesey, I was picking up the astral records of this old trauma, from my own past, as well as other tragedies that had befallen the Welsh people since then. The bed and breakfast where we stayed and where I spent an afternoon lost in a feverish haze, was located on the slopes below the old Roman camp where the invasion of Mona was staged.
So when I “recognized” the photo of this soul who shared a portion of a “past” life with me, it was so I could consciously clear this painful memory from my spiritual lineage.
History lives in each of us. When it comes time for these memories to be cleared, you may experience some of the original pain and emotions. While it is not always necessary for one to undergo what I did in the clearing of these old records, those who are sensitive might “see” fleeting visions and impressions of lives and people long gone.
As you come to understand that time is actually circular and our past lives are being lived out in the Now moment, you will also begin to understand that the clearing you do in this life will affect the others.
This was one of the most intense lives that I have cleared, with the possible exception of the one during the First War of Scottish Independence against Edward the Hammer of the Scots and the one as Young Joseph, headman of the Wallowa band of Non-Treaty Nez Percé.
Perhaps there are some among you who ask me why I can’t let go of the past. I have let go. I share this story so you will be prepared if it should ever happen to you. These memories can be safely released with the aid of the Violet Flame, but sometimes you need to travel through time and walk in two worlds for a bit to release the complete memory.
This kind of work has been my mission in this lifetime, exploring other worlds while living in this one. I have done it through reading and through traveling the invisible roads of my own imagination. I have seen myself in other bodies, dress, cultures and places. And didn’t need a ticket to get there!
I hope you enjoyed my little story. It was not a comfortable time, but one in which lessons were learned and experience garnered. And the karma was fully balanced even then as I lived lives as a Roman after this… and again, several times as a druid once, again, this time living in the Pictish kingdoms well to the north of the boundaries of the Roman province.
Namasté.
I AM Tazjima Amariah Kumara VaCoupe
©All Rights Reserved, Elizabeth Ayres Escher, www.bluedragonjournal.com
Photo Credit: http://www.nwhikers.net – Sunset in the North Cascades