{A past life remembered by Blessed Hostess, the person who channels Clovistia. She has agreed to share a few past lives as educational tools. The images that are shown are not meant to be historically accurate. They are chosen because they best represent the memory itself}
I had been finding myself constantly judging my husband’s decisions. I could not figure out why I was micro-managing him and I could not seem to stop. There seemed to be no apparent reason behind my behavior, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not let his decisions stand. I would feel strongly that his decision was not well thought out. That maybe he needed to understand the consequences more before making decisions. I was driving us both crazy. I began to realize we had a big problem on our hands. A friend suggested that maybe it had a past life connection. I wasn’t sure it was the answer since I needed a real life solution. But, late one evening when I was driving home alone, a memory began to drift into my mind. My palms became sweaty and shivers ran down my spine, and I drifted into the memory . . .
Year: Time of pyramid building
Gender: Male
Age: 11 yrs
Location: Egypt
Life path: High born
As my mind came into focus, I became aware that I was standing in an oasis. There were date palms, running water, grass. The area was very large and very beautiful. I looked down at my body and realized I was just a boy. I was about 11 years old. I had on a pure white caftan, that was made of fine silk. It fit me perfectly. I ran my fingers over the stitching and marveled at the perfection. I realized that I was high born, the son of the leader. I surveyed the oasis as if I owned it. I became aware that it was a moonlit night and I saw a massive tent ahead of me. I was standing obstinately with my arms crossed. I did not want to go into the tent. I became aware that I was a brat. If I did not want to do something, there was no one, but my father, the leader, to make me do it. If I refused, no one could harm me. If I wanted to do something, no one could stop me. Indeed, I was a spoiled brat, with little respect for others, old or young. This was my father’s oasis and he was the Master of all. As I looked at the great tent, I was quite aware of who was inside. My father. His guests. Wives, more wives than a person could count. There were siblings, lots of siblings, all were lesser born. All born to other mothers, yet I knew all the mothers as my own. Male children were raised by men, and female children were raised by women.
I became aware of that an old man was approaching me. I knew I was not supposed to be out here by myself. I had been told a 1000 times. It was a risk to me and everyone, if something should happen to me. He was a senior tribe member charged since childhood with trying to educate and train me. But, I was a sulky child. I turned my back on him. I was standing on the edge of the oasis in my beautiful outfit. I was dressed impeccably. My hair was perfectly combed. I stood with my back to him with my hands folded behind my back, looking out into the desert. I, as a man child, was taken to live and be raised with the men. I was about two years old when I left the women. I love all the women who were in the harem. They all love me, and I knew each and every one of them. They were all mother to me. But my true mother was the one who was the most special and who had my heart.
I turned around and looked at the old man, I knew I should follow him or my father would be angry. So I followed him up into the grand tent. It was a very large tent that would hold hundreds of people. It was where my father conducted business. I was Nubian. I held out my hands and saw that they were black. I went inside and joined my father standing to his right. There were men talking with him with angry faces. My Father had made a decision and they objected to the results. They wanted my father to change his decision., but he was firm. He had thought about it, he felt his decision was just and fair. He ruled that his decision would stand. The men were loud and aggressive when they left, but I did not care, they were bringing in the food and dancers.
The music was beginning to play and the grand table with all the food was my focus. I was always curious about which delicacies would be served each night. The food was sumptuous and I eagerly had my fill. Soon the evening seemed to wear on and on. It was becoming loud, and people were beginning to walk around chatting in small groups. I was tired. I knew that I should go to bed, but I just wasn’t ready to do that. I decided to walk to the edge of the oasis one last time. It was a full moon. It was easy to see as I threaded my way between camels on my way to the edge of greenery. The silence in the desert felt so stark. A dry breeze touched my skin. There didn’t seem to be the sound of anything. The moon was full and the night was so clear.
Gradually, in the distance, I heard the sound of hoof beats. There was more than one, perhaps a group. They seemed to be running. As they drew closer I strained my eyes to see, but they were only shadows. Who were these visitors and why were they in such a rush?
Suddenly, crash, I was knocked to the ground. It hurt I was in pain. Who dare touch me like this? Then I was recklessly tossed inside a burlap bag, crumpled all up into a ball of limbs. I was roughly thrown over the side of a horse, and we were racing across the desert. My body banged harshly on the horse’s side. I found it hard to breathe and my chest heaved. It seemed like the pain lasted forever. I partially fell asleep or passed out, when I was shocked back to reality and thrown on the ground. My shoulder and back ached. I wanted to stand and object! But, I was quickly dragged inside of something and the door was slammed behind me. It was silent. I gradually pulled back the burlap and fresh air gushed into the bag. I took a deep breath, and another and another. It was dark. It smelled bad. I laid there on the dirt floor alone. My beautiful white outfit was covered in dirt. “Someone will pay for this!”. I began to think of the old man from the oasis. What would happen to him when I was discovered missing? Would he be safe? He had sworn his life to protect me. It was I who had made the bad decision to go out late at night, but he would be the one who would pay. I crawled out of the bag and felt my way into the corner of the room. I could see nothing in the darkness. I slept a fitful sleep.
At first light I became aware that I was in a small, dirty, spider filled cave. It was more like a big storage hole than anything else. As the room began to fill with more light a peasant girl around my age brought me a small piece of bread and some water. She kept her eyes cast down, and she didn’t speak my language. As I ate, I began to think of ways to escape. I did not have any good ideas, but I thought of myself as being resourceful and a smart young man. I crept over to the door and realized it was not locked. This was my opportunity. I slowly opened the door enough to put my head out. As I looked out over my left shoulder, and in the distance, I could see a massive construction project underway. The cave was in the hills a distance away. My eyes surveyed the project from left to right. There was a massive construction project in the valley below. I wondered what they were. What they were for? They were huge. The men working on them looked like tiny ants! (As myself I recognized those structures and I wanted to scream those are pyramids! They are building pyramids! There was one large pyramid already constructed and a second was underway.) Suddenly, the door was slammed on my head and I crashed back into the cave. I had never felt such pain in my life, I seemed to hurt everywhere from my travels last night and now my head was wracked in pain.
I was given a guard, a man with no shirt and loose fitting striped pants who stood over me with a massive curved blade and big wooden handle. The sword was nearly as tall as me. “If you try to escape again you will be killed, and your body will be returned to your father on a stick!”, the black bearded guard screamed as he stood over me. He slammed the door and I crept into a dark corner to try to be as small as I could possibly be. I hope that they would forget about me completely. I waited. I was hungry and thirsty. It became dark. There was no light that seeped into the little cave at all. I could not hear any sounds of the night. I was alone. I was absolutely alone for the first time in my life. I felt very small. Oh! why hadn’t I listened to the advice and stayed with the old man. I thought of all the people back at the oasis. All the women, all the children, the food, the camels, the horses, my bed. I suddenly longed for the softness and security of my bed.
I am a chosen son. I am destined to lead my people, just as my father. I stood up, put my hands on my hips and stuck my chest out. “They will not break me”, I said and I tried to muster my greatest strength and courage. But, after a few moments of silence, I sat back down. Fear swept over me. What if I never saw any of them again? What would happen? As the night dragged on and the hours became tiny, I began to lose hope. They would never find me, I was sure of it. I didn’t even know where I was at. I wondered about those strange things in the distance that were being constructed. What were they for? They were huge. The men working on them looked like tiny ants!
I began to think about what would happen if my father came. I realized he mustn’t come. His duty was to save everyone at the oasis. He had to put everyone else first. He should make a decision to send a search party, but not to search for me himself. The risk to everyone was too great if he was harmed during the search. I knew he was very smart. He would make the right choice. He would make sure everyone was safe. I was sure of it. Night slipped away and fell asleep into the shadows. Abruptly there was a thunderous crash on the door and the wood burst open. A wall of men come flying into the room tumbling in a pile. In the midst of that pile was my father. He had come to save me. He grabbed me with his strong arms, lifting me and holding me so tight I thought I would break. The men immediately began talking about an escape plan, and how to get out of these hills safely. My father’s men gathered in a group and began drawing escape options on the ground.
Before they could make any plans, a rush of new men came into the room. These were not my father’s men. These were the bad men. Time stopped for one moment. One heartbeat. They had their swords drawn. I looked at both sides. A great battle ensued and the sound of swords crashing and clanking together striking flesh and bones. The sounds of men being stabbed to death began to fill the room, and the smell of fresh blood. There seem to be blood flying all over the place. I looked down at my beautiful clothing that was filthy dirty, and now it was covered with blood. My father was a champion, he was fighting men left and right. His blade flying and glistening in the moonlight. But his men were falling one by one. Men that I knew and loved we’re dying for me. My father and his men were losing.
As I regained my awareness of me, I immediately thought of my husband and I knew he was my father in this memory. The energy felt the same. I cannot explain it. I did not appreciate his sacrifice at all. I held him responsible for all the bad things that came after. I tried very hard to appreciate his sacrifice, I did at that time and I still do now. But, if he had chosen differently, I might have been lost, but all the others might have been saved. He had other sons. This memory helped me release negative energy towards my husband. I was less judgmental. I was more forgiving and understanding. I stay out of his decisions, no matter with consequences. I avoid micro-managing him with day to day decisions. I cannot say my reaction if he was faced with a life or death decision. I cannot say.