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Wednesday, August 5, 2009

A Past Life Regression Helps To Reveal "Why Allergies?"

A few weeks ago a friend set me on the path towards figuring out why I suffer from allergies. Among other things, I know that tree pollen, especially that from evergreens, makes me sneeze, waters my eyes, and at times makes me so stuffed I can barely breathe out of my nose. These allergies seem to be most prevalent in spring and fall.

My friend felt that some answers could be gotten if I'd self-hypnotize (something I've done many times) and do a past life regression. I had a tape of myself reading Brian Weiss's Script For Relaxation and Regression from his incredible book, "Through Time Into Healing." If you're interested in past life regression and want to try regressing yourself, this is the book for you. If you want to go to a past life regression therapist, you still may want to consider using Brian's script several times before your scheduled session(s), not to mention afterward. Dr. Weiss's methods are completely safe and not difficult in any way.

My friend  had a thought that perhaps I had lived during the time of the Holocaust of WWII and perhaps this was at the core of my allergy troubles. However, instead of limiting my regression to that time period, I instead set the intention to go to the life that was most responsible for my allergies.

Here's what I learned...
I was a female, late teens-early 20s, in the year 1291. I was pale and frail, living in the dark, dank, but wealthy home of my husband's family, either the Medici's (tho' they wouldn't rise to full prominence 'till more than a hundred years later) or a family who was friends with the Medici's, in Florence, Italy. MOLD was immediately shown to me to be one of the allergic culprits. Things were not good in the household. I could not bear a child and my husband called me "useless," and regularly beat me. He even went so far as to try and suffocate me. On one such merciless beating, my husband feared he had gone too far. He dragged me onto the side of a desolate road and left me there to die. A kind man, turns out to be my husband now, Chris, found me and compassionately took me to a convent, where they cared for my battered and bruised body. I could see myself in bed, covered with some sort of beige, linen clothing, from head to pointy feet. I stayed with the nuns all the rest of that life, doing good deeds in various, small, ways. I died rather old for those times at age 57.

Hmmm...mold, suffocation attempts. Allergies. Any thoughts on all of this?

Interesting that Florence had a huge wool industry at that time period.

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