The Strange Case of Steven and the Pyramids

past life healing

Pyramids at Giza

One of my clients in Austin was a delightful young lady named Kris. Kris had a boyfriend named Steven with whom she was at wits end. So for his birthday, Kris decided to buy him a  session with me. Kris told me that what she wanted from Steven’s session  was threefold. First, she wanted him to stop being unfaithful to her. His one night stands with other women were killing her. Second, she wanted him to stop doing drugs. And third, she wanted him to stop tending bar and get a “real” job. In her mind, her requests were nothing exceptional.

“Why not just dump the guy and move on?” I asked. “It would be cheaper and she wouldn’t have to expect me to perform miracles. I’m good, but my name isn’t Jesus or Buddha.”

Kris wouldn’t hear of it. She was hung up on the guy and couldn’t let go. We all know love is irrational. Co-dependency is worse.

I sighed. Lucky Steven, lucky me. This wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. Steven showed up at the scheduled time for his appointment and promptly told me that he thought what I did was bunk and the only reason he had come was that he didn’t want to waste Kris’s money. I told him I’d do my best to make sure he got his money’s worth. This sure wasn’t shaping up to be a productive hour. He had as much called me a charlatan and I was fast coming to the opinion that he was a shutdown moron.

“Well, we might as well get started,” I said. “Why don’t you take off your shoes and lay down on the table?”

When Steven lay down on healing table I put one hand under the base of his skull and the other under the base of his spine. Bright  red healing energy flew out of my hands and into Stevens’ central nervous system. At first, Steven got very peaceful. A few moments passed this way then his face lost all color and turned grey. He started to moan, limbs shaking and trembling. Soon his moans turned into involuntary screams and deep sobs. An ancient pool of sorrow and hidden agony had burst through it’s containment walls.  Steven sobbed without stopping for an hour. The more he sobbed the colder he became. He asked for a blanket. It was the middle of a Texas summer, and even with the air conditioner on, it wasn’t that cool in the office. The cold was coming out of him. It was ancient frozen energy that was thawing. I got him a wool blanket, knowing it wouldn’t do much good. He wrapped himself in it, but the shivering continued unabated and got worse. Finally, his sobs stopped but the shivering continued. The session ended a few minutes later.

It took Steven some time before he was able to sit up. When he finally did,  he was shivering from the cold, the blanket wrapped tightly around him, his face still grey.

“Tell me about your experience,” I asked him.

“It was a long, long time ago. I was back in the time of building the pyramids in Egypt. I was a slave in a long line of slaves. There were overseers everywhere to make sure no one slacked off. They pulled the woman in front of me out of the line and whipped her until she bled to death. I couldn’t do anything to save her or show any emotion, because if I did they would have killed me too. That woman was my wife. I can still hear her screams.”

Steven shook more, fighting back the tears.

“What you released today, you carried in your soul for nearly three millenia. That’s a long time to carry such a terrible trauma.  You’ve been dragging that around for many lifetimes. Now you’re free.”

Steven did not reply. He was numb and exhausted from his experience. He left a few minutes later.

I never saw him again.

A few months later a mutual friend of Kris and Steven’s came in for a session.

“Did you hear what happened to Steven after you worked on him?” she asked.

“No,” I said. ” I’ve never seen Steven since that day and I haven’t heard from Kris.”

“Steven couldn’t figure out how you did that to him so he decided you had put LSD on your palms and that it had gotten into his body and made him hallucinate.”

“That’s the first time I’ve heard that one. It would take someone who does a lot of drugs to come up with that explanation.”

“There’s more. He quit his job after you worked on him. He stopped doing drugs and got a sales job with IBM. He’s doing really well.”

“Amazing.”

“He’s also engaged.”

“To Kris? It’s what she wanted.”

“No. To someone he met at IBM.”

“Kris got everything she wanted out of that session for Steven, except she didn’t get him. She must be heartbroken.”

“She took it pretty bad at first. But she’ll get over it,” said her friend.”She’s dating a new guy now.”

As long as that trauma lay smoldering in Steven’s soul it exerted a powerful influence over his life.  Because of that trauma he had come to following conclusions in his subconscious:

1. Don’t love or commit yourself to anyone. If you do, they will die.

2. Don’t be seen or they  might come after you.

3. Life is pain.

Steven wouldn’t commit to Kris. He worked in bar where it was dark. It was safer that way. He did drugs to mask the deep pain at the core of his being. When he relived and released the ancient trauma that had deeply wounded him all those governing beliefs fell away and he was free to live a normal life again. He was eligible for happiness, at last.

“Most men,” wrote Thoreau, ” live lives of quiet desperation.”   Does happiness keep eluding you?

 

 

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