So recently I have been in kind of a funk. It has been a bit of a struggle to find things to write about. Once I think I have something the words just don't seem to flow the way I like them to. As this is frustrating and not really conducive to what I want to create, I decided I should do something about it. I went into a past life that is affecting me in this moment to gain insight and clarity. It was kind of a wow moment. In this life I was a female, probably early 40's. I had a family but they were all grown. My husband was a farmer. We lived in the country side at the edge of a forest in what was probably eastern Europe or western Asia.  I was a medicine woman, who performed simple feats of magic to help improve peoples lives. I would make salves and poultices.  I would help during birth and death. It was before the time of Christianity, and though I wasn't a priest or shaman in the local pagan faith they would often call on me to help with rituals. My knowledge of plants and their properties were second to only a handful in our entire area. It was a tradition in my family, passed from parent to child. It tended to run along female lines but my mothers grandfather had been very skilled. I was teaching my two youngest daughters. My son was a farmer and a warrior for the clan, while my oldest daughter didn't have the knack for it. Though she was a skilled weaver and mother. In this life magic and superstition ruled all things. How much food would we grow this year or how many babies would be born. We saw these things as the domains of gods and spirits. I was a believer but my knowledge of plants and nature allowed me a different view on the world. I had no understanding of chemistry but I could see patterns  others were oblivious to. I knew how or where things would grow based on the conditions the world was showing me. I knew how to get the result I wanted based on the plants or tools I had at hand. Sometimes in ways that created awe in those around me. I had all of this knowledge but I was taught that the magic did not stem from me. My mother and grandmother had always said the magic rests in the plants. Anything I did with them just enhanced what nature had already bestowed. I believed this and this was how I lived my life. As a young girl the shaman of our clan had wanted to train me. Teach me to dance with spirits and speak to the winds. My parents refused. We were not a magical family. The shamans persisted for weeks until they finally settled on another candidate. I was a simple woman who lived a simple life. Simple and happy. In my life I grew irritated and frustrated with my fellow clansmen.  They saw my accomplishments and sung songs of my magic. No matter how I tried to convince them they always attributed the magic to me. "I have no magic!" I would tell them over and over again. They could see me in a way I could not see myself. One day we received news that a king was gathering as many practitioners of magic as he could for a summer fair. It was in a land beyond the forest along the river. The shaman and chief told me I should go. They said that I would bring glory to the clan with my power over magic. When I tried to refuse they grew angry with me. The chief cried that he had seen me with his own eyes bring a person back from the brink of death, or help another go peacefully into nothing. He told me to put my pride away, and just do it. He was going to announce it in the hall that evening and though I could refuse I would only bring shame and strife to myself and family. I was so angry. I had never been so angry before. I felt hurt and betrayed and ANGRY. I was a miserable person and miserable to be around. It was hard to do my work as I was not convinced I wanted these people to heal. This went on for weeks and I felt like I was losing myself. It was my husband who finally helped me come to my senses. It was near dinner and he had just come home from the fields. He was not tall but decades of working with his hands had given him a strong powerful frame. Age was starting to creep up on him. His shoulders were rounding and his face was looking tired and worn. I was preparing something for our meal as he came up behind me. The smell of sweat and soil filled my senses. As he reached for me I turned and pushed past him. I said something biting and cruel. He grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. The hurt and confusion plain on his  features. He slapped me. Not hard but with enough force to mean it. The pain and heat raising on my face. "I have not often thought to raise my hand against you, as you have always been a good wife and woman, but I will not tolerate this a moment longer." his voice ringing in my ears. I opened my mouth to speak, my eyes filling with tears. I start to cry and I reach for him. We embrace. I cling to him as sobs start to overcome me. He holds on trying to comfort me. This is clearly not the response he expected. I have always been open in my feelings with him but I am not one to be swept away in emotional displays.  As day turns to night I finally open up about my anger. My behavior causes me to feel remorse and regret. He continues to comfort me and communicate. We make love. I awake still frustrated but without the sense of anger and hurt I felt before. I don't know how I am supposed to 'show' people my magic. The fair is in a few months and if I am going I will need time to prepare. This is the end of the first part. I didn't realize how long this was going to be until I started typing it out. I think I will look at a past life every week. This was a really helpful experience. Here is part two. If you are interested in getting a past life reading or learning how to do a past life reading go HERE!