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| A Journey Into A Past Life |
| A Regression Process I Went Through in 1999 |
| Written by Xielolixii January 31, 2006 |
| PART I |
| 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 friendships. 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 |
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