Love Has No Bound
Karen contacted me from out of town. She was interested in a past life regression session. In our phone consultation, the 25-year-old young woman was clearly curious about hypnosis but had some questions to ask me about the process. One such question was whether everyone could be hypnotized. She remembered at her graduation from high school, a hypnotist that the school had invited was not able to put her under. The consultation addressed those questions to her satisfaction. But then she told me she was not very sure about using Skype for such a session and asked if I had any travel plans to her part of the world. I replied that unfortunately I didn’t have any. Karen said she would think about it.
It took Karen nine more months to contact me again, still with the same questions. But nine months also seemed to be enough time for Karen to have thought it through and had finally decided to give it a go. At the beginning of our Skype appointment, Karen told me that she didn’t really have any issues, she was just interested in past lives. I told her she could leave the session wide open to see what would come up, or she could give me a direction, to help me to better guide her.
“Maybe relationships then. I seem to make good friends with men. I’ve dated several, but I don’t seem to like to commit,” Karen answered.
“What happens when it comes to commitment?”
“I always find something wrong with them.”
That was enough direction for us to start. On my iPad’s screen, I watched as Karen slid into a past life as a 12-year-old girl. She was lying in her small bed in her small room at nighttime. Little did we know that it was the beginning of a very eventful long life in Switzerland.
The year was 1907. Isabel lived in a small mountain house with her parents and three older brothers. Her father didn’t like her because she was a girl. “Girls are useless” her father would say. Her three brothers helped their father logging. The oldest brother took on the same attitude toward her as their father. Isabel only felt comfortable with her mother and two younger brothers.
On school days, Isabel would walk down the mountain to school in the town. Isabel’s best friend at school was John. They would play together after school, joke around, and have fun as only children can.
John and Isabel’s friendship continued into adulthood. When Isabel turned twenty, she married John and moved to live with him in the town. John soon rose to become a senior person in the local government.
“He is in charge of people,” Isabel told me.
Isabel gave birth to four children in quick succession, two boys and two girls. Unfortunately, when one son was eight years old, he got sick and quickly died from pneumonia.
The death of their son threw the entire family into deep sadness. John also lost his job. According to Isabel’s understanding, the town’s people stopped trusting him to take care of them because he didn’t know how to take care of his own child. The rumour was that the boy’s life was not saved because his parents failed to act quickly enough.
John eventually found new work in a butcher’s shop. However, the work was very dirty, and he never liked it. John and Isabel ultimately decided to sell their house and move to a larger city and start over.
There they found a house with a large wooden deck. Isabel made friends with other housewives nearby and would invite them over for tea on the deck in the afternoon. John found a job in a local office.
I guided Isabel forward in time to the next significant event in her life. Isabel found herself forty-two years old. She had just discovered that John was having an affair with another woman. The affair must have been going on for quite a while because Isabel also learned that they’d had a baby together. Isabel was devastated. John had lied to her. Deeply hurt, Isabel felt that John must not love her anymore. I asked Isabel to repeat their argument to me.
“You don’t love me,” she began.
“What does John say to you in responding to that?” I asked.
“I do. I do. I do.”
“Do you believe him?”
“No.” Isabel is crying now.
“What do you say back to him?”
“You wouldn’t hurt me if you loved me. You are just like my father, hurting me.”
Isabel, through Karen, sobbed on the screen of my iPad, “I thought he truly loved me. I must be a bad wife.”
Whatever John tried to say or do, it was useless. John eventually moved out of their house and moved in with the other woman. They stayed in the same city for a little while before moving to another one.
Isabel felt alone. She lied in bed most of the time with no motivation to get up. One of her daughters took care of her.
Isabel never saw John again although John kept in contact with their children by letters. Depressed, Isabel lived until she was seventy-three. Upon her death, I asked her spirit if it wanted to visit anywhere before moving on. The spirit answered that it would like to see how John was doing.
“Now without a body, you can go anywhere or everywhere you want to. Thought of someone can take you to them.” Then I counted down from three to one and said, “find John now. Where is he?”
“He is in a house, sitting by a table.”
“By himself? Or with someone?”
“With the woman and their child.”
“How’s he doing?”
I asked the spirit to access John’s thoughts and emotions towards her as Isabel.
“He loves Isabel and thinks about her every day.” Karen started to cry again. Karen then accessed more information from John, “That woman used to work next door to him when he and Isabel first moved to the city. He admired her because she was working. Where he was from no women worked. He was attracted to that.”
“Do you still love him?” I asked the spirit.
“I always love him.”
“Do you now believe that John actually always loved Isabel?”
“I do.” More tears crept down Karen’s face.
“So, knowing that, would you forgive him?”
“No! Never!” The spirit was vehement in its rejection.
“What do you think about the woman there?”
“She is doing her best to please him.”
“How do you feel about her now?”
“Can anything happen for you to forgive them?”
“Nothing can happen for me to forgive them.”
Just like when Isabel was still alive. Nothing John could say would make her feel differently. I guided the spirit to move on from that scene. She finally met her young spirit guide Paul and was brought to a group of five Elders for a life review. The Elders acknowledged that it was a hard life. She did her best and accomplished what she had set out for her life plan, yet she needed to let go of her animosity and anger.
But the soul had a hard time letting those go. Even though it understood forgiveness was needed on the path for growth, it lacked true motivation or clarity on the action level.
I brought my attention back to Karen and asked her to put her life and the life of Isabel together and identify if there were any parallels. Karen started to see some of the same souls being present in her own life as were present in Isabel’s, including some of Isabel’s family members. Karen also said she understood her distrust of a committed relationship.
It is very difficult to let go when we are so much a part of our story and when we love our stories so much. It’s like when we are deep inside an illusion, it is difficult to understand how the illusion works.
But love itself has no boundary. Love just loves. Love doesn’t hurt. It’s the ideas about love that hurt. True love flows. It holds one in no form or state of being. Love lets you be who you are, and express who you are, any way you want. Love doesn’t limit and restrict each lover. That is a form of love, but it is not the true freedom of the soul and the freedom of love. Love has no bind.
Sometime in the name of love, we fall deeply in love with our own story. And suffering happens when we fall in love with our own story. The way to let the story go is the full acceptance and the full embodiment that we are the Creator of that story, and the full responsibility that we are creating every moment.
Instead of forcing the soul of Isabel and Karen into “forgiveness”, I told her that she doesn’t need to perform forgiveness for anybody or for her, but if she chooses to, she may set herself free, instead of putting so much of her energy to make a story work, in this or other lifetimes.
Sometimes we don’t get what we ask for. Even though we pray to God, or to angels, for certain things to happen, our prayers are not necessarily answered. We can rationalize what’s right and what’s wrong, but that doesn’t make it true. Perhaps, in doing those things, we’re just trying to make our story bigger.
In the soulful state, with the help of the Elders and the guide, the soul has learned one lifetime is but one story of the soul. She could try again to make the stories work, and then come back and keep repeating the cycles of incarnations on Earth. Or, she can let that go, and let love be. The shift I felt in Karen is that she chose the latter.
When Karen was brought out of hypnosis, she opened her eyes, and the first thing she said was, “Wow, this works. I felt you were right by my side, your presence, even though we met on Skype with a time difference. It’s amazing.”
Thinking it took Karen nine months to be ready for this, I smiled, and asked, “Do you remember everything?”
“I do.” Karen reflected for a moment and continued, “but I can feel it fading already, like a dream.”
“That’s fine.” I said, “The story may fade, but the point will not. Love will not fade. It’s always fresh and new. Can you allow yourself to love again? That’s a question probably Isabel from that life would have for you in this life. Can you trust love? Can you embrace love fully again? Do you need to protect yourself from love? I’ll leave you with those questions to ponder on. You don’t need to come up with any answers. Just ponder on those questions for the next little while.”
Karen nodded her head without much more to say. I could tell the session only served as an opening for Karen in allowing herself to eventually be herself. Women are told by so many sources to find identification in a relationship. It is this lifetime, for Karen, to love whoever she chooses, rather than finding who loves her. I know our work was to bring that to her awareness.