My Third Book Release!

I am pleased to announce the publication of my third book Many Blessings Will Come.

Back in the day when I just started on this hypnotherapy journey, I devoted all my time to studying, reading, obsessing, and binge-watching everything about hypnotism. People close to me would say, “You don’t have a life. You only care about hypnosis.” To that I would reply, “But hypnosis IS my life, so haha I do have one.” I’m a hypnotist, I can’t help but reframe and redefine things.

One of the motivational places for me to binge was HMI – Indeed, M stands for Motivational at Hypnosis Motivational Institute. All those fabulous instructors in LA. They were like superhumans to me. The instructor who especially stood out from the crowd was Michele Guzy. She is beautiful, charismatic, personable, fun, witty, spiritual, and commanding. She was on TV, on the radio, on the stream… She could take a whole team of big football players into hypnosis and send them on their way to some peak performances. I was so hooked.

Now, can you imagine that feeling in me when this same person, Michele Guzy, all these years later, offered to write a Forward in my new book Many Blessings Will Come?! Putting her name in my book would have been the reason enough for me to have written the book! But of course, I would not have discovered that until I had finished writing the book.

Life’s full circle.

Just in this process, I have also discovered another quality of this amazing human being: humbleness.

I am stoked.
 
This book, with the subtitle Tales of Recovering Inner Commitments, Gifts, and Wisdom Through Hypnotherapy, is written for those who want to go beyond the traditional use of hypnotherapy for behaviour change, into the spiritual realm. 

Here’s a little excerpt from Michele’s Forward: 

Both Ebook and paperbacks can be found in most places that books are. I have a few copies in my Vancouver downtown office. I’d like to invite you to check out the links below for you,  and maybe for anyone you know who is interested in this subject matter.

Purchase it on Amazon Kindle

Amazon Paperback

Barnes & Noble

Available from other E-Book Stores.

iBook

When you get a copy, I would LOVE that you leave a review where you get the book! Many many thanks! 

Looking for A Gazelle

When Tim and I met at the Jazz Festival, one thing that had kept us glued to that blanket was the topic of travel. And since we have been together, we continue to travel the world extensively, exploring new countries and discovering new regions every year.

– Chapter 21 “It Doesn’t End”, Carol’s Lives

It was the Lonely Planet guidebook that told us about the existence of this prehistoric stone carving of a gazelle, when we were in Tafraoute, Morocco. I suppose there is no street number and address to mark where it is, in the land of rock formation and wilderness.

Following the guidebook, Tim and I went to a campsite. One gardener-like man speaking Arabic and half French said he didn’t know what we were looking for, never heard of it, but over there in that camper, there were people who could speak English.

Before finding the gazelle, we need to find the campsite

We went over, and before I could knock on the door, the camper door swung open. It looked like our arrival interfered with someone’s breakfast, in this place where strangers were not commonly seen. Two couples sat inside the camper by a small table. Limited space, but cozy. On the table it was full of Moroccan goodness: jams, butter, bread, honey, olives, and maybe even Argan dipping oil. The gentleman by the door greeted me. I showed them the page of the Lonely Planet guidebook. He took it seriously, even though very soon it was obvious to me he had no clue what I was looking for therefore needless to say, where it was. However, I felt relief to meet these German people. They speak very good English.

The gentleman tried looking for it on his own paper map, and his GPS, which was very slow to boot. I knew I wanted to say “Never mind. Bon appetite!” as, I knew he couldn’t really be of help in this matter, but I let him try. He almost took great pleasure to try to help.

Finally, he had to look up at me, and shrug apologetically. I said, “Never mind. Thank you. Bon appetite!”

We drove along the road. On the left, we saw another RV campsite. “Maybe the guidebook meant THIS campsite,” I told Tim.

We turned in. This is a bigger site. I showed the guidebook to a man coming out of a small office-like house. He exclaimed, “Ah! Gazelles!” He took me out of the camp gate, pointed his finger, and spoke French, “Over there, about 1 kilometre…” He then said many more words, but I didn’t understand the rest.

It was enough to know “over there, about 1 kilometre” and somewhat to the left. We drove along very confidently.

As we were entering another yet beautifully designed RV campsite, we started to look at the RV license plates – Where do those people come from? Many from France, some the Netherlands, Germany, Great Britain… There was one man working on his vehicle with a jug of water or oil. We stopped the car. I walked towards him, asking for the Gazelles. He stopped his pouring action, raised his head, paused for a moment, and shook his head. Never heard of it.

The campsite

I took a deep breath. Not wanting to give up, but didn’t know what next I could do. Where we were should be close, according to the office man. “Ga-ZE-lles. You really don’t know?” I tried to pronounce the word in an exaggerated “French” way.

It worked. “Ah! Ga-ZE-lles. Oui…” He pointed me in a direction. Blah-blah-blah, blah-blah, and blah-blah-blah a little more… but I understood his hand gesture: Over there in the group of rocks, you climb it, and over that big rock, you’ll find it.

We parked the car, walked to the group of rocks, and climbed the big rock. Tim became impatient, “There is no way we can find it, not knowing what we are exactly looking for.” The initial on-a-whim curiosity was wearing out for him, and all these insistences of searching of mine started to make no sense to him.

But I could feel we were on the right track. “Common on. We do know exactly what we are looking for:  The Gazelles! You told me it’s antelope. That’s what we are looking for.” I insisted, though not familiar with the difference between an antelope or a gazelle. If the prehistoric carved gazelle could telepathically play the Hot or Cold game with me, he was telling me, “… warmer… warmer…” I could feel that.

That was when I looked back and up. Right there, without even an angle, right in front of me, so close, the carved gazelle, on a piece of flat vertical rock, looking over a cliff.

My heart skipped a beat. I had to take a breath. The gazelle might have been waiting for me, through all those hours and days and years and centuries and millenniums. 

If we filter through the thick beard and the horn, the gazelle has a small face, standing on the rock for thousands of years.

My inner vision opened up. One day, on the same land and in the same nearby village, a gazelle ran through the dry land in the anti-Alas mountains for miles and miles, until he came to this cliff, as if it was the end of the immediately available land, he came to a halt, looking ahead, pondering, or even hesitating. That pause in itself became an incredible view for a young man in the nearby village. The rock, the sky, the animal coming far away, all were so inspirational for this young man that they turned him, right there, into an artist.

The next thing this young man knew, was that he picked up some chisels, went to the rock right below where the gazelle was standing, drawing and engraving the picture out of his memory, and transmuted it onto that rock.

The next thing that I knew, was that I was standing here, feeling exactly how that young man felt, as if no time has ever passed.

And without a shadow of a doubt, I knew I was that young man in that prehistorical existence.

A Free Parking Lot in Downtown Vancouver

Even though I practice hypnoTHERAPY, occasionally I get a phone call from someone who needs some other interesting services.

A man called me one early morning. He wanted to book an appointment as soon as possible, meaning, “Now!? Please!? How soon can you see me? I can get to your place within 20 to 30 minutes if you’d like.”

I replied, hoping there was no panic sound in my voice, “No, I would not like it.” I checked my calendar and decided that I could see him in two hours. “What’s the hurry?” I asked, curious what case I was dealing with here.  

“I want to find out where I parked my car… It’s a long story… My friend said I could call a hypnotherapist to help me so I googled… I need help. I don’t remember where I parked the damn car…”

He spoke fast, and I was trying very hard to process, or to make sense as I listened. I asked him a few more questions to slow him down. And the whole picture finally came to me: This man wanted to find out, or to remember, where he parked his rental car in downtown Vancouver two nights ago.

It was his first day in Vancouver. He had flown in from Calgary in the morning, checked into his hotel room in Burnaby in the afternoon, picked up his rental car, and drove to downtown Vancouver in the evening. It was his very first trip to Vancouver. He came to meet someone – A business meeting, he told me on the phone. Later, when he felt more comfortable with me, he said it was actually a date. Google map helped him get into downtown. After he saw he was close enough on the map, he parked the car in a covered parking lot, and used the same Google map to walk him to the meeting place, a restaurant.

A few hours and a few drinks later, for the life of him, he couldn’t find where he parked his car. After searching around on foot for a couple of hours, he gave up, and took a cab back to his hotel.

The next day, he thought daylight could help him locate the parking lot better. He went back to downtown Vancouver, first walked, and then hired a cab to drive him around and around. Neither he nor the cab driver could find the mysterious parking place or his car. “That was the only time I wished my car were towed.” He said dry humorously on the phone, “Yesterday and this morning, I kept calling the towing company every hour, but oddly enough, the car was not towed. I mean, how can you park in a downtown parking lot for free for over 24 hours?”

A friend in Calgary suggested that he see a hypnotherapist for memory recall.

So, I became his last resort. The poor man’s trip was becoming very costly. He asked for a guarantee from me. I told him I understood his situation and could guarantee that I would do my best to help, but what I couldn’t guarantee was his own mind. “It is your mind that I have to work with,” I told him, “Subconscious memory recall is like tracing a footprint. There must be a print first for this to work.” I felt the challenge in this situation – He had never been to Vancouver before. It was nighttime. His mind was preoccupied when he was driving. But also, I felt a genuine curiosity in me and a sincere desire to help – I mean, what else could he do?

Now he seemed to be so desperate. I told him that I was going to take $80 off the service, “Because,” I told him, “I am intrigued by this myself now.”

He showed up on time, eager to get right into the process, despite an old concern that associated being hypnotized with mind control. I also realized, being new to the city, he wouldn’t be able to tell me street names such as Dunsmuir, Howe, Robson, Seymour, West Pender…. Even though in regression, he would be able to recall he turned left, and saw that sign, and then right…. Spatial thinking is not my strong suit. From a map to a real location I normally lose myself in translation. Even if he could tell me those street names, I’d still be quite easily confused. All I had was regression skills, and all he had were unconscious memories of how he followed the Google map. Two confused people could unlikely lead each other to the desired destination.

We needed someone else to put it all together.

My partner Tim came to my mind. The whole streets in Vancouver downtown are on his mind map. I often thought he could make himself a decent cab driver. And he has this spy-like detective mind too (If you don’t believe me, read Chapter 14 in Carol’s LivesA Spy in the Sky”).

So, I said to my anxious new client, “I’ve never done this before, but I’m going to suggest that I have my partner Tim sitting in this session, because…”

“Whatever it takes to find my car.” He didn’t let me finish.

I could almost assume that Tim would love the opportunity. Challenging this task might sound to everyone, but it suited Tim’s inquisitive mind.

Tim came into my office with a pen and a pad of paper in his hands.

I used hypnotic confusion induction to get this man’s conscious mind out of the way, so his unconscious memories could surface….

As they surfaced, very soon this young man found himself driving downtown. He described the traffic, the weather, his mood… Vividly he was reliving the moments. Only this time, my voice was with him every turn of the way….

As a regressionist, my job was to ask the right question at the right time. The Calgary man’s job was to answer my questions as the first thing that came to his mind. Tim started to draw a map on his paper…. The session went on for two hours, and the man went deep…

I finally brought the Calgary man out of the trance. Tim showed him his drawing map, and suggested a few highlighted areas to investigate… I looked at them, with a little more clarity but still uncertainty about where exactly he could find the car, or whether he could, based on Tim’s map. I knew I had given him my best shot, as I “guaranteed” him.

Still intrigued, I decided to volunteer Tim to go with him on his next search, with the drawing map in his hand. Tim had been involved this far, and his curiosity was piqued, so he agreed.

Carrying on my other appointments for the rest of the day, I didn’t have too much time to think about it. I could only imagine the best-case scenario: a text message from Tim saying, “We found it.”

It took them an hour. A text message buzzed in, from Tim. It read, “We found it.”

When I met Tim later that day, he showed me 80 dollars, and said it was a thank-you gesture from that Calgary man.

“Unbelievable,” Tim exclaimed, “Two days and two nights in that parking lot, with only paying for a couple of hours, the car was still there, no parking ticket!”

I think we have found a secret free parking place in downtown Vancouver.

Counting My Blessings

I would like to give an update on my new book: Many Blessings Will Come, Tales of Recovering Inner Commitments, Gifts, and Wisdom Through Hypnotherapy.

We have revised the second draft of the manuscript. Both my editor and I are liking how it has developed – an engaging read with strong chapters opening and closing the book.

I believe all the authors out there would agree with me that on the book writing journey, a good editor is crucial to success. I am very happy to have Melanie Christian as my editor for both Carol’s Lives and Many Blessings to Come.

Not only does Melanie perform the full set of editing functions: structural editing, developmental editing, copy editing, and proofreading, but also, she shares with me her observations and analysis of the book as a whole and gives me many suggestions.

Some words from Melanie:

Many Blessings Will Come is a beautiful anthology and unique showcase of your current life’s work in the form of 21 narratives. It evokes the wonder and blessings of visiting past, inter-, and probable lives, while demonstrating the healing power of hypnosis.

A suggestion Melanie gave me was:

Following the Acknowledgements, add Back Matter reviews of previous books from any clients who have recognized professions (e.g., celebrities, mental health practitioners, such as other therapists or coaches); or from other writers/authors, hypnotherapists, book critics, online book reviewers, local celebrities, or notable wellness specialists.

I initially resisted this idea, feeling that “A good book speaks for itself.” I didn’t mind if it took time for people to find a significant book like Many Blessings Will Come.

But after letting the idea sit with me for over a month, I finally made a list of some esteemed hypnotherapists who I truly have learned from, and a few others whose work I respect and honour. Then it came to the real part: asking for their help. I can’t say that I’m particularly good at it, however, I sent out a number of emails and heard back from some of them who are willing to read my book and give it their recommendations. This is so humbling and encouraging, and thanks to Melanie, I am so grateful for their assistance.

Current Manuscript Outline

Introduction
Chapter 1, Part I – A Prior Engagement
Chapter 2, Part I – Past Life Drama
Chapter 3, Part I – A Friend of My Father’s
Chapter 4, Part I – One Hour, Seven Lifetimes
Chapter 5, Part I – Boundless Love
Chapter 6, Part I – A Secret Beach
Chapter 7, Part I – Yesterday and Tomorrow’s Child

Chapter 8, Part II – Pain Body, Wolf, Ghost and Laughter
Chapter 9, Part II – Coaching A Ghost
Chapter 10, Part II – On the Run
Chapter 11, Part II – Just Do It!
Chapter 12, Part II – Seer’s Plight
Chapter 13, Part II – Free To BE
Chapter 14, Part II – Falling to Grace
Chapter 15, Part II – Ancient Visitations
Chapter 16, Part II – Death Walker Julie

Chapter 17, Part III – Mystic Tree
Chapter 18, Part III – Samantha’s Book of Life Chapter 19, Part III – Lost and Found
Chapter 20, Part III – Many Blessings Will Come Epilogue – Remember Who You Are
Acknowledgments

Pre-order your PDF copy of the book here: https://kemilahypnosis.com/downloads/many-blessings-will-come/.

I don’t want to keep Melanie my best-kept secret. If you wish to check out her work, you can find her at: https://forwardmusesolutions.com.

Letter From Eric

My dear friend Eric bought my book Carol’s Lives. After reading it, he kindly sent me an email thanking me “for the opportunity to read your mind-expanding, interesting, and unique book.”

I took it all in when he described how the book was a “page-turner” for him as he couldn’t put it down, after initially deciding to read a chapter per bedtime.

It is really hard to sum up my feelings about the book because I had many thoughts when I was reading it. First, it is very well written. It flowed very well from chapter to chapter and the descriptions created clear images in my mind.

I was totally surprised to learn that one could have future live regressions (or maybe these are called progressions?). I found the future stories fascinating.

And, of course, the stories of Carol and Rick were fascinating too. The “dark and light” story near the end of the book in New York was pretty mind blowing.

It was delightful for me to hear that this dear friend who called himself an atheist, like Tim in the book, said in his email that “for the first time this week, after reading your book, I am starting to think there is more to this life than meets the eye. I am starting to think I need to trust my intuition more. And I need to allow for possibilities in my life.”

Yes please. Trust your intuition more. Intuition is actually the only consistent trustworthy source of one’s life. Eric and I like to agree that “life flows through us and we are a vessel.” If life flows through me, I absolutely have everything I need when I need it. How can I not trust life itself? Certainly, trusting life makes my life much easier. I’ve been teaching a course called Effective Intuition in Vancouver’s West End Community Centre for some years. My opening line in the class has always been, “I cannot make you more intuitive than you already are. I’m here to help you trust your intuition a little more.”

Eric is very much into music. He told me he has loved the Fleetwood Mac song “You Make Loving Fun” since childhood, particularly these lyrics:

I never did believe in miracles
But I’ve a feeling it’s time to try
I never did believe in the ways of magic
But I’m beginning to wonder why

In his email, Eric added, “Maybe it is time for me to start believing in something other than science and so-called facts. As you say, return to being a child.”

Magic and miracle are two of my favourite words in English. And I truly feel they are just fancy words on Earth to point to what’s actually the universal norm. For a while, I have been living my professional and personal life in which “paranormal” is normal; “supernatural” is natural, and “metaphysical” is simply physics. Earth is a very interesting place to come up with those unnatural ways to look at things and mystify what’s natural.

Another beautiful word Eric mentioned in the email, “allow” is another of my favourites. The easiest word, the hardest thing to do, for a human. Welcome to the earth school, in which science and facts have become almost a religion in the past 300 years when the prevailing model of gaining knowledge has been a scientific one, a science of deductive reasoning based on visible evidence. It influences our language. When we say something is reasonable, we mean it’s true. Reasoning is a good tool, yet it can kill intuition.

If I allow myself to be bold enough to say, facts are always aftermath. I have to create something first for it to become a fact, and for a scientist to collect data. Unless I create, where is the data? Science certainly has a history of being wrong in so many ways. For me, the beauty of science is an attitude that simply says, “I don’t know. Let’s find out.” Curiosity is what I like about science, not authority. Taking it to the lab, and coming out with references. But those “facts” are definitely changeable, always.

In 2013, I went back to China, my mother was about to undergo major surgery. I asked the doctor how confident he was. He brought me aside, and said given my mother’s age and the conditions, the survival rate was about 5%. It was horrible to envision my mother being 5%. So I told the surgeon, “My mother is going to be one-hundred-percently in the 5% category. And YOU are going to make it happen.” He did. Maybe I hypnotized him. I sometimes laugh at how applicable it is to MY life when scientists tell me average percentages. For my life, I’m either 100% alive or 100% dead. I just can’t settle for less than 100%.

And in order to stay in this physical realm with some semblance of sanity and grace, it’s imperative to understand the underlying energies of personal and global situations, because nothing is as it appears to be on the surface. There are always people who make a lot of money in bad economies. And people who find great jobs in high unemployment rate societies. We each create our own reality. And we each are such creative beings.

Living a magical and miraculous life is simply to create. I am too alive to be facts and figures, which points to the -end. But in my life, I am always at the beginning-. In that sense, all the books after they are written, are literally “released” by the author to take life on their own. I let science and scientist chase and analyze me if they wish, while I’m having fun creating all the right’s and wrong’s and good’s and bad’s. A never-ending creative journey is all my life is about.

True spirituality is fluid, like creativity itself. There is no division or boundary you can draw in water. There is nothing to believe in. When I believe in something, I start to have a position to defend. An atheist in itself is also a position one can take. Any position we take, we will need to defend it. True spirituality is so open that everything is seen, heard and allowed. Omnipresence is the closest word. It is everywhere. It does not have a particular shape or form to take. It is that free.

Carol’s Lives is about experiencing life. There is nothing to believe in. But I’m very glad, Eric, that it has given you an enjoyable reading experience.

He Knocked on the Door

In the final chapter of Carol’s Lives: Chapter 21, It Doesn’t End, I wrote:

Though the functionality of the room has been changed a few times over the past twenty years, and the furniture updated and moved around, especially after the space was turned into a hypnotherapy room, these two paintings have not changed their positions on the wall. It is in those moments that I cannot help but feel that maybe, in our pre-life agreement, Tim was to come in and set the stage, and I would come in and play.

The hypnotherapy room back in the day was a room in my spacious 2-bedroom home. By the time I was finishing the first draft of the book, we were still living in it, and still thought we’d live in it as far as we could perceive, as was said in my book chapter 8, The One Who Travels:

The apartment that Tim intended to keep for only three more months back in 2007, we still live in to this day. Life has its own ironic plan for everything. It is easier and more fulfilling to follow life’s path for us than to resist it. Even though the mind generally does not quite understand this magical simplicity of life itself.
Things continued to unfold in their natural course.

Things continued to unfold in their natural course. Right at the time I was finalizing the book, we moved – Just as “life has its own ironic plan for everything”. I started to work in an office downtown, and we moved our home to another place closer to my office. Who would know how things happen as it happens? Looking back, everything was smoothly perfect, even though we didn’t see it when we went through the process.

Kemila’s Downtown Office

We love our new home dearly. And we miss that apartment we lived and worked for many years. Sometimes the mind wonders who would be the next to move into that beautiful suite right by Stanley Park.

One day I was in my office. Between clients, I normally keep my door open. Someone came to knock on the open door. I raised my head from my desk. A man with a mask on (pandemic special view) said apologetically, “Sorry you don’t know me. I am…” then he went very straightforwardly, “… the person who lives in the same suite you lived.” My mind raced. Seeing my puzzling face, he went on, “20xx Nelson Street.”

“Oh! How come!” I exclaimed. “How do you know I lived there? And how come you are here?” The floor that my office is on is not openly accessible to people without a card key.

So ZJ explained his big company is in the same office building, and they rented a small office on this floor. That day as he was waiting for the elevator, he saw my office sign and recognized my name, a name that he periodically saw on the envelopes of mails in his mailbox.

No matter how many months we had to prepare for mail address change, we still end up having some mails delivered to the old address. I’m sure we all have experienced that.

“I gave those mails to the building manager Roselyn. Maybe I’ll collect and deliver to you here in the future.” ZJ said.

“Yes please!” How delightful! “I’m so glad that I have the name I have,” I said, “so you recognized it easily,” I asked ZJ how he liked his new home. “Oh, it’s so beautiful, such a special place!” I told ZJ Tim lived there for over 20 years. Young ZJ dropped his jaw.

“We decided to move as we realized it was time, and the kitchen became a little too lack of counter space for our gourmet needs.” I said. ZJ nodded his head. Suddenly I felt as I was speaking with a family member of sorts. After all, it’s the same space, though different times.

What are the odds? Life is so sweet.

The next day, as I was coming out of the elevator heading to my office, ZJ was going up to his company floor with a laptop in his hand. He called me from behind, “I have some mails for you.”

ZJ went back to Roselyn and retrieved all the postal mails that were sent to the old address, including a cheque from the government. I was still amazed.

The mails that ZJ brought me

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do,” ZJ said as he went out.

“Well, if it’s not for the pandemic, you could host a belated House Warm Party and invite Tim and me!” I jokingly said.

“We’ll see.” ZJ laughed on his way out.

The Journey May Have Started with Greece

This whole Journey with my work somehow started with Greece, a place that I have never been to, to this day when I’m writing this.

Some manifestations take many years to come into shape. But I was confident that Greece was a place worth waiting for. Even though I don’t actually know how long I have waited for it, maybe lifetimes.

Back in March 2009, I had my own first hypnotherapy experience, inspired by Dr. Michael Newton’s book Journey of Souls (details are in chapter 15 Onto the Promised Path in Carol’s Lives). That was before I knew I was going to become a hypnotherapist. I found a hypnotherapist in town doing Life-between-lives sessions. The hypnotherapist said to me that since I never had hypnotherapy experience before, she was going to relax and condition my mind first, so when I went back, she would have an LBL session with me through past life regression. In that “relaxing and conditioning” session, she instructed my mind to go to a personal relaxing space, so my mind took me to Greece. I imagined a whitewashed rooftop terrace on the cliff looking over the blue Aegean Sea. I had a hammock on the terrace. I was just hanging in there, literally, doing nothing else particular.

As you’d read in my book, I never went back to that hypnotherapist after the “relaxing and conditioning” session. And it was not her fault.

The next year, I requested a birthday gift from Tim: a digital photo frame (To the readers of my book: Yeah, that was before I took the hypnotherapy course). My imagination was that I was going to find many photos online, add inspirational words to the pictures, use an app that is called “automotivator”, and then load up the final poster style versions to my digital photo frame, so that I could bring it to the office desk, let the slide show of my beloved Greece and inspirational words brighten up my otherwise a little dull paperwork hours in the office at the time.

The brightening-up-office-desk-slide-show project didn’t last long. In the same year 2010, I left that office. No more dull moment. And the photo frame went into storage.

Very recently I happened to find the folder on my computer holding those pictures of Greece, that faraway dream of mine in the year 2009. Here are just a fraction of them.

This was how I started.

Looking back, these words have truly shaped me.

Still the words of wisdom

Still gives me goosebumps

Weren’t I cute?

And now grateful I am. The Greek dream is coming so close! Can you believe I’m leaving for Greece in less than 10 days? I wonder what my own photos of those beautiful islands will be like. Maybe I’ll post some of them here after my trip. Overly photographed as the Greek islands are, they never lose the amazing attractions to people like me.

The Day Our Path Crossed

As the annual TD Vancouver International Jazz Festival is right around the corner, I’m glad this year in-person gathering outdoors is open, and Tim and I have booked a few concerts including two on July 1. Last year due to the pandemic, there was no physical gathering for the festival. Coastal Jazz organized an online celebration by collecting some stories. How Tim and I met was showcased their page from 2020. You can find it at this link.

Here’s us, in 2019 on the blanket where we met, as the story told in Chapter 2 of Carol’s LivesBlanket Speaks.

An excerpt from Page 20 – 21:

The band finished. The emcee was announcing the next show, which was due in about 40 minutes. People in the crowd started to get up and move around. But I was ready to sit down after all my Canada Day window shopping. Wouldn’t it be nice if I had a blanket like those lying there, so that I could sit and enjoy the sun with my book? As if through magic, to my right I spotted an unoccupied, big, light purple and white checked blanket lain out on the grass. It looked so inviting; lovely and lonely, just waiting for me to take my seat on it in the sun. I found it hard to resist its pull. But I was resisting.

  • – No. This must be someone else’s blanket.

But nobody is there now. And my feet are tired. I need to sit on something just like that.

  • – You don’t really want to steal a blanket, do you?

If I don’t take it away, it’s not stealing. It’s borrowing.

  • – But how can you call it borrowing without the owner’s permission?

Maybe the owner has already abandoned the blanket. Maybe someone just didn’t bother to take it back home after that last act.

  • – What if the owners just left for a while and they will come back? That would be really embarrassing.

If they come back … then … maybe, I will make a friend or two!

Strangely, the prospect of making new friends excited me more than sitting on the blanket itself. To date, I had not made friends with strangers in Canada easily. Or, so I thought. I still cannot explain why the idea of making new friends thrilled me so much that sunny Canada Day in David Lam Park.

I want to wish you a Happy Canada’s Day!

Yesterday’s Bombing

Three weeks after I came back from my most recent trip to New York City, and two nights after I saw my client Thomas for our third session, I received an email from him, followed by a black and white photo of Wall Street with an accompanying Wikipedia link.

Hi,

Look what I found! I had absolutely no idea that such an event had ever happened. I never studied American history, nor was I interested in history enough to read and retain much on my own. I did see or sense what seemed like an explosion but did not believe it during the session. I had a similar experience with a map of Europe when I mentioned accurate details that I would have never known on my own. Very interesting because I still can’t say that I believe 100% in past lives, but I almost don’t really care to have an opinion.

Thank you,

(Note: I briefly mentioned this email on Simon’s podcast interview that you can find here.)

Thomas is a medical doctor and a gay man. His email was referring to our previous session. We had been reviewing some entanglements of his relationship when he spontaneously went to the life of a young woman in New York City.

“New York in the twenties,” this statement came out of nowhere in hypnosis. He continued on, “I was there.”

I was surprised. That day when Thomas came for his appointment, we started talking about relationships. His heart seemed to be longing for a relationship. But he kept telling himself, “I don’t have to search for one.” He did this to such a degree that he was somewhat guarded in talking to me. I felt he was not even allowing himself to have the desire for one, just because he “didn’t need to look for it”. I told Thomas about how I came across the ocean from another country miles and miles away, and my partner Tim moved miles and miles, and then at a particular moment in a particular park, we met, in this lifetime. I was hoping to illustrate to Thomas that just because we don’t have to look for something, doesn’t mean we can’t be open to welcoming it.

Thomas expressed an interest in the story of how Tim and I met, so I filled him in by briefly telling him that we met each other in another life, in New York City, in the 1920s.

So later, to hear him say in his hypnotic trance, “New York in the twenties, I was there,” was a little bit surreal for me.

“Floor… black and white tiles… It’s like a coffee shop.” His soft voice as a young woman continued, “There is a lot of wood, maybe a wooden bar, or a wooden fireplace? I go through one door, then I go through another door, then to the left, and into the place… There is red. I don’t know what. There’s something red. And I see the floor. The floor is old tiles. There is wood. It’s dark. But it’s very bright outside. It’s during the day. There is smoke. People are smoking. I see feet. And I see women’s shoes.”

I like it when information flows like that. “How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Feeling good,” she said in a satisfied tone.

“Are you there as a customer?”

“Yeah,” she replied, before urgently adding, “I need to go back.”

“Go back to…?”

“New York!” It took me a while to realize that it was Thomas speaking, not the young woman, and he needed to go back to New York. “I left him behind, in that lifetime. Something happened. It was beyond our control. I went on, left the place. Then something happened and he died.”

“Like an accident?”

“Yeah, something happened… the building. I see the roads… I don’t know what happened. I see the building down then he was gone. I left and he died. I don’t know what happened. But I blame myself.”

“Blame yourself for?”

“I wanted to stay and die with him… It was the twenties. And I decided that life. Ended. For me. I lived in grief and sorrow till the day I died, in the ’50s. He was 32 when he died. I was 28.”

“Has this being reincarnated in this time?”

“I think he’s waiting. He’s waiting somewhere, but I don’t want to meet him.”

“Because you feel you can’t handle the pain?” Now I know why Thomas didn’t want to look for someone. What a stubborn soul, as if 30-years grief as that woman in New York was not enough!

“But I’m not ready.” The grief was so strong that I didn’t know how many lifetimes Thomas needed to have before he would be ready to meet that man he tragically lost in New York again. “I just decided I don’t want to meet him.”

I had a sense Thomas needed to go back to New York someday, to resolve that past life’s emotional pain. On one level, he realized the direction that he needed to go— forgiveness—and “to start to see someone and move on with my own life”, as he put it in his intake form. But then he just “decided” he’s not ready to meet him. It’s as if the gentle tenderness of the soul is used against himself.

I marvelled at how the stories could be so intertwined. I had just shared with him Rick and Carol’s lifetimes in New York during the twenties. I wondered if Rick had ever rubbed elbows with the woman who Thomas was those years ago on Wall Street?

When I first read Thomas’s email, I smiled at his last comment, “I almost don’t really care to have an opinion”. I don’t either actually. Even though I facilitate past life regressions on an almost daily basis, I don’t have much of an opinion about them. So, I responded to Thomas, “Well, opinions are too cheap to be cared for. People change them all the time without paying a dime. But thank you for sharing. I was just sitting on those stairs of The Federal Hall shown in that old Wall Street photo three weeks ago!”

Kemila standing on those stairs of The Federal Hall

 

The Wall Street bomb details can be found in the following link.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wall_Street_bombing

Wall Street bombing

Wall Street bombing
The aftermath of the explosion
(Federal Hall National Memorial is at the right)
Location ManhattanNew York City
Coordinates 40.7070°N 74.0103°WCoordinates:40.7070°N 74.0103°W
Date September 16, 1920
12:02 pm (local time)
Target Wall Street
Attack type Horse-drawn wagon bomb
Animal-borne bomb attack
Deaths 38
Non-fatal injuries 143 serious, several hundred total
Suspected perpetrators Galleanist anarchists
Motive Possible revenge for the arrests of Sacco and Vanzettiand/or the deportation of Luigi Galleani

 

 

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