A Regression Process I Went Through
in 1999
A Journey Into A Past Life
Written by
January 31, 2006
Starting from the beginning, I must have been about two
or three years old, because my brother Paul had not yet
been born.  He lives now in Pacifica California with his
wife.  Anyway, I would be playing outside in the dirt
amusing myself, since there wasn't very many people
around; hardly any houses anywhere, and I would see
things. Grownups and young people and places that were
not there.

This one particular place was beautiful and serene.  It
was a place that had lots of trees, green with dark and
medium green foilage.  Moss was hanging down from it
in long streams ~ almost to the ground. A road was
winding up through this grove and as I recall it, as it
gradually inclined, it became a dirt road. The picture only
lasted for a few seconds and I would go about my play.

As time went on through my life, I would see this
picture. It would happen during my awake time and
mabe once a year or so. It must have been in '86 or '87,
when I talked with my mom about this.

I was sitting in her living room facing her as she sat on
the sofa working on one of her many projects.  I told her
about what I had been seeing all these years and asked
her if she knew what this meant.  She said she had no
idea. then I remember saying to her that I was frightened
of actually finding this place ~ that it could very well be
my final resting place. Looking back now, but I didn't
know it then, was that I may have been prophetic
without realizing it, although I do remember getting a
chill when I spoke those words
All through my childhood from the 4th grade on, I
could not believe adults, other than my parents,
because of a lie that I caught my 4th grade teacher
on.  I called her on it, but she did not try to explain
or anything.  So from that day on, I had to find out
for myself what the truth really was, especially when
it came from governmental venues or from the
'public-at-large." Most of my childhood friends were
non-Native, except for a couple of black children
who lived next door and a black church that was
down at the corner that we frequented several times
a month. So on an individual scale is how I accepted

When it came to being Indian and my convictions, I
would fight and not give up no matter who was in
my face. I grew to despise the 'white' man and what
had happened to my people and how I, along with
my family, was being treated when the chips were
down. All those so-called friends, disappeared, when
they needed to be counted, including some of the
church ministers and church members that we knew
down through the years. During the course of time, I
confronted many dignitaries, friends, and members
of the community regarding the reburial of our
people, who through 'progress' had been taken from
their 'final resting place'. Many years of
confrontations and negotiations to retrieve the bones
of my ancestors for reburial took place. Anger
replacing any happiness in my daily life.

Then one day I was asked to go with a group
to do a ceremony on a hill where an