As you know, I believe that whatever we are feeling or emoting at any given time is relative to the symptoms and signals we are receiving from our bodies. I knew the lungs was where my grief and heartache were centred, my frustration at life and feeling constricted or bound by the life I had, instead of the one I had planned. The throat is where we speak our truth, are heard or release our grief, so at the time it made perfect sense....until about two weeks ago!
Karen was doing an acutonics treatment on my back (which is relative to not feeling supported by the Universe - just saying!) one day and this awesome healing chant came on her ipod.
I had a sense of many people in the room, and later we discussed various things that had happened during the treatment - the blockages I was experiencing, where and why; the extra pair of hands on my forehead; the music that totally resonated with me and how I hadn't coughed once during the treatment (and many others that I can't remember).
I asked Karen if I might borrow the CD with the healing chant on it, and I felt there was some kind of urgency attached to it. Of course she agreed - thats what good friends do! ☺
I took it back with me and as soon as I was in the door, I had it playing in my laptop. I became quite fixated with this hour long chanting, playing it over and over, wondering why I felt as if I should know the words, as I could certainly feel the emotion behind it. I even played it before I went to sleep, hoping my guides would give me some insight or advice. Nothing.
Two days later, I was having breakfast, with my feet dangling in my current house-sits pool, listening to the the chant. Water is a great conductor for emotion. Next thing I was given a visual of a group of people standing on a hill, chanting, while their assailants rode around them, killing them as they stood. I felt that these were a peaceful people and they had chosen not to war with them, instead singing in unison to prove that they would not be changed by those that were around them. I also had the impression it was in 1890, and happened around Christmas time, hence the extra emphasis on my grief this time.
(If you are wondering why I never noticed it in other Christmases, I believe it is because I wasn't ready for it or open to it until this year....and possibly I would have struggled to differentiate between the grief I already felt with Butch's passing)
I could see the chief/leader, and he was only wearing a single feather or headdress, which I felt was strange given that I would have thought he would have had the big regal one - but then, would that have been tantamount to a challenge in a very aggressive way - who knows? He was very tall, almost freakishly tall.
I sat there crying my heart out as I saw those I once loved fall around me...and then the vision stopped. I wanted more! I tried everything, but nope, apparently I wasn't ready for the rest of this story yet.
I kept listening to the healing chant continuously, feeling a sense of peace that I couldn't explain. However, my breathing and heaviness got worse. I had various excuses for it, cutting back on various types of foods, concentrating on my vege juice and immunity supplements. When I coughed I felt like I was turning inside out! I made my never fail cough mix to help prevent the coughing which had made my throat raw and sore. It eased the throat, but the cough just got worse.
Christmas night onwards, I felt like I was truly dying. I know that sounds dramatic, but the coughing was leaving me light-headed, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't talk, I couldn't sleep, and I felt like there was an elephant sitting on my chest, who only moved when I doubled up in pain.
Finally the 27th came and I could get a doctors appointment... As I spoke about my symptoms and the lead up (without explaining the spiritual side of it, of course) to that day, he smiled and nodded. I had asthma! I have never had asthma, so I found that quite interesting...and annoying.
All day I thought about what asthma meant to me. I had established the sore throat was merely an on going effect of the asthma - coughing to produce air obviously inflamed my throat.
Asthma tells me I don't want to be here, that I am done. I feel suffocated, angry, unable to vent my emotions, deeply depressed and grief devastated. I pulled faces at this thought, as it didn't quite fit how I believed I felt.
This morning, as I was pondering this and listening to the chant. I was given the final part of the vision. I was a young girl of around 10 or 12 when this massacre had happened. As my people were falling around me, my brother had thrown me on the ground to protect me, landing on top of me when he was killed. I was SO angry. I wanted my chance to die with pride and he had cheated me out of that! I fought against the dead weight of his body until I was so exhausted, I could move no more. Our 'enemies' left, not realising I was still alive.
I wasn't shown what happened after that, but I get a huge sense of displacement, intense anger, feeling cheated out of a glorious death, losing everyone I loved and forced to live a life I would never have chosen. I wanted to scream at my brother for what he did, but that would have disrespected his spirit and the love he had shown.
A couple of days ago I went on facebook to ask if anyone knew of a massacre that took place in 1890, without the group fighting back, and was told of the Massacre at Broken Knee (my knee just happened to be one of the blockages I had when Karen did the treatment - a hint perhaps?!). It took place on the 29th December!
Now I can't say unequivocally that this is where it took place, because my inner skeptic refuses to take anything at face value without heaps of evidence. (and skepticism is healthy!) The chief was tall and although it doesn't appear he was wearing a single feather on that day, here is a picture I found. His name was
Miniconjou Chief Big Foot, meaning 'Touch the Clouds'.
Perhaps this needed to be healed before the actual date, or maybe there is more to the story, who knows?!
Today I feel peaceful, at peace and grateful for the ability to breathe once again.
...and it all started with a cough and a healing chant....
Who knows what past lives we carry within us that can be healed and accepted? We have all been here many times before, it makes sense we carry soulular and cellular memories. After all, can you remember something from Christmas Day that touched or upset you? Memories are powerful things.
with love, respect and integrity
PS. As a by the by, I have established who my brother was in that lifetime, and now understand why every time I see him, I feel an irrational sense of betrayal, anger and sadness.
This also explains why I have taken to plaiting my hair a lot more and in a different way in the past two months. I have always loved all things from this culture, but have felt myself strongly drawn to clothing, etc that pertained to this lifetime in a way I couldn't explain before.... Interesting stuff, hey?