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[書] Many Lives Many Masters 【前世今生】(美)布萊恩-魏斯 博士


美國著名的精神科醫師魏斯,透過催眠治療的過程,使病人在前世今生徘徊,聆聽到生命輪迴的前世記憶與景象。魏斯醫師把這段心理治療的經過,以小說故事方式呈現故事發展引人入勝,是一本難得的好書,邀請讀者用真實的勇氣去閱讀。
本書是美國連續兩年的排行榜書,已譯成11國文字,挑起了人們對生死、輪迴的好奇與迷惑。中譯本問世後,成為備受宗教、媒體爭議的話題。
本書令人震驚的是:一位接受二十世紀科學洗禮的精神科醫師,卻在治療一位女病人時,發現她的前世輪迴。魏斯鼓起勇氣,把這段心理治療的經過寫成本書,他說:「自從接完這個病人,我的生命全然改觀。」


[spoiler title="前言"]凡是皆有其理由,也許事情發生的當時,我們既無先見之明,也不瞭解其中原因,但假以時日和耐心,一切都會真相大白。

這就是凱瑟琳案例的情形。我初見她時是一九八O年,她二十七歲。她因焦慮、恐懼和痛苦的侵擾,終於踏進我辦公室尋求幫助。雖然這些症狀自她幼時起就如影隨形地跟著她,但近來卻更加惡化她因每一天都覺得情緒麻木、無法正常作息,而處在一種低潮、沮喪的狀況。

與她那時生活中的混亂相反,我的生命是一帆風順,有美好穩定的婚姻、兩個小孩,及蒸蒸日上的事業。

從一開始,我的生命好像就在直線上前進。我在一個呵護備至的家庭中長大,學業的成就不太費力就得來,在大二那年我即立志要成為一個心理醫師。

我在一九六六年畢業於紐約的哥倫比亞大學,然後進耶魯大學醫學院,七O年拿到醫學博士。在紐約大學貝列弗醫學中心實習後,轉到耶魯完成精神治療的住院實習。結束後,我受聘到匹茲堡大學教書。兩年後,我轉到邁阿密大學,領導精神藥物部門。在那段期間,我在生物心理治療領域得到了相當的認可。在大學教了四年後,我升為心理治療的副教授,並被派為邁阿密一家教學醫院的心理治療科主任,在那時,我已發表了三十七篇有關心理、精神領域的科學性文章

多年有紀律的研究已把我的心智訓練成科學家的醫生的思考方式,把我往專業的保守主義窄路上推我不想念任何不能以傳統科學方法證明的事物。我知道全國各主要大學都有靈學的研究在進行,但沒有引起我的注意——那些對我都太遙不可及

然後我遇到了凱瑟琳。花了十八個月的時間做傳統心理治療,想克服她的症狀。當一無所獲時,我嘗試用催眠法。在一連串的催眠治療狀態下,凱瑟琳記得了引發她症狀的[前世]回憶。她同時也能做管理,傳達一些高度進化的[靈魂實體]的訊息,透過她,我知道了許多生與死的秘密。在短短幾個月內,她的症狀消息了,過得比以前更快樂、更平靜。

我的背景中,對這種情況簡直一無所知。當訊息一點點地揭露出來,我感到全然訝異。

我對於眼前發生的事並沒有一個科學的解釋,它不是人類心智可以瞭解的,而且遠遠超過我們想像的範圍。也許,在催眠下,凱瑟琳可以集中注意力於無意識儲存的前世回憶;也許,她能捕捉容格所謂的集體潛意識,它是我們周圍的能量來源,包含了人類全體的記憶。

科學家開始找尋這些答案。我們做為社會的一份子,在這些研究中都可大大受益,它將解開我們心智、靈魂、死亡延續的生命種種迷團,及前世經驗對我們今生行為的影響。顯然的,歧見很多,尤其是在神學、誓學、心理治療和醫藥的領域

無論如何,這方面的科學研究才剛萌芽,步調很慢,又不斷遭遇科學界及外界的阻力(衝突)。

從歷史看來,人類總是不情願接受新觀念。伽利略發現木星的衛星時,當代的天文學家完全不接受,甚至連看都不願看一眼,因為這牴觸了他們原先的信念。現在的心理醫生和治療師也是同樣情形,對前世回憶和肉體死亡後的自下而上即使已累積了相當的證據,也不願檢視評估。他們的眼睛仍緊緊閉上。

這本書是我對進行中的靈學研究的小小貢獻,尤其是探討死後經驗的支派。你所讀到的每一個字都是真的,我什麼也沒有添加,除了不斷重複的地方外,也什麼都沒有刪。只稍微更動了凱瑟琳的身份,以保隱私。

我花了四年來寫這本書,花了四年才鼓足勇氣,甘冒專業的風險透露這些不正統的訊息。

某晚我在洗澡時,突然覺得非把它寫下來不可。我有種強烈的感覺:時候到了,我不該再隱藏這些東西。我所得到的肇本意就是要與人分享,而不是據為已有。從凱瑟琳而來的知識現在該藉由我傳出去,最好的結果就是:讓大家都瞭解我所知道的不朽和生命的真義。

我從浴室衝出來,到書桌前坐定,望著那一疊凱瑟琳催眠的帶子。在清晨的曙光中,我想起在我少年時去世的匈牙利祖父,每當我告訴他不敢冒險時,他總會慈藹地重複那句他最喜歡的英文口頭語:管他去吧。

[/spoiler]
[spoiler title="第一章"]

第一次見到凱瑟琳時,她穿著一件很動人的深紅色洋裝,在候診室裡緊張地翻著雜誌。在此之前的二十分鐘,她在精神科外面的走廊來回踱步,說服自己依約赴診而不逃走。

我到候診室招呼她,和她握手。她的手又濕又冷,證明了方纔的焦慮。事實上,雖然有兩個她信任的精神科醫師大力推薦,但她還是花了兩個月時間才鼓足勇氣來看我。

凱瑟琳是個外表十分有吸引力的女子,中等長度的金髮,淡褐色眼睛。那時,她在我任精神科主任的同一家醫院的實驗室裡做化驗員,並兼做泳裝模特兼外快。

我領她進診療室,穿過躺椅來到一張靠背皮椅,我們隔著一張半圓辦公桌對坐。凱瑟琳向後靠在椅背上,沈默著,不知該從何說起。我等著,希望由她來選擇話題。但幾分鐘後,我開始詢及她的過去,第一次會面,我即試圖理清她是誰,為什麼來看我這些問題的頭緒。

在回答中,凱瑟琳逐漸向我透露她的生平.她生長在麻州小鎮一個保守的天主教家庭中,排行老二,哥比她大三歲,擅長運動,在家中得享她所沒有的自由妹妹則是父母最鍾愛的孩子。

當我們談到她的症狀,凱瑟琳明顯地變得焦慮緊張,她說得很快,身子前傾,把手肘放在桌上,她一直都為恐懼所憂,她怕水、怕卡到喉嚨,怕到連藥丸都不敢吞的地步;怕坐飛機,怕黑,更怕死這個念頭。近來,她的恐懼有愈演愈烈的趨勢,為了得到安全感,她常睡在大得夠一個人躺下的衣櫥裡,每晚要經過兩、三小時的輾轉反側,才能入睡,雖是睡了,但睡不熟,總是斷斷續續,很容易被驚醒。小時候常犯的夢遊和做惡夢的症狀也復發了,當這些恐懼和症狀愈來愈困擾著她,她的情緒也就愈加沮喪。

凱瑟琳陳述這些經過時,我看得出她的折磨有多深。多年來,我幫助過不少像她這樣的病人克服恐懼和威脅,也很有信心能幫凱瑟琳度過難關。因此,我打算讓她從童年談起,找出問題的根源。通常,這種洞察可以使人減輕焦慮。如果有必要,對她的吞嚥也不那麼困難的話,我會給她服一些抗焦慮的藥,使她舒服一點。這是教科書上對凱瑟琳此類症狀的標準處置。曾經我也從不遲疑地就給病人開安眠藥,甚或抗憂鬱劑,但現在我盡量少用了,要開也只開短期的。因為沒有什麼藥能對這些症狀的病根有所助益,凱瑟琳和其他類的病人證明了這一點。現在我知道必定有根治的方法而不只是把症狀壓下去。

第一次會面中,我盡量不著痕跡地把話題往她的童年推。由於凱瑟琳對童年的事記得出奇的少,我考慮用催眠來追蹤。她記不得童年有任何大的心靈創傷,足以造成今日的恐懼。

當她意圖去回想,才能憶起一些零碎的片斷。五歲時,有人把她從跳板推到游泳池裡,使她嚇得魂飛魄散。不過她說,即使在那個事件之前,她在水裡也從來沒有舒服過。凱瑟琳十一歲時,她母親變得很沮喪,突然無法過正常家庭生活。去看心理醫生的結果,是接受了電擊治療,這些治療使她母親幾乎喪失記憶。這個經驗嚇壞了凱瑟琳,不過,隨著母親病情好轉,逐漸恢復自我,她的恐懼也消散了。她父母有長期酗酒的惡習,有時凱瑟琳的哥哥得去酒吧找回爛醉如泥的父親。酗酒也使他常對妻子動粗,於是她母親變得更加陰鬱退縮。但是,凱瑟琳只把這些事當做無可奈何的家庭紛爭。

外面的世界情況好些。她在高中開始約會,也很容易和朋友打成一片,其中大多數是認識多年的夥伴,不過,她發現自己很難相信別人,尤其是那個小圈子以外的人。

她的宗教觀念單純而沒有疑義。從小被灌輸傳統天主教義理和習俗從來沒有真正質疑過它的可信度和有效性。她想做一個恪遵教義和禮俗的好天主教徒,死後將得到上天堂的賞賜;若否,則會遭地獄之苦,掌握權柄的上帝和他的獨子會做最後審判。我後來知道凱瑟琳並不想念輪迴;事實上,她很少接觸印度教的東西,根本不清楚這個觀念。輪迴是和她從小被灌輸、認知的觀念完全相反的東西她也從來沒讀過有關超自然或玄秘世界的小說,因為沒興趣。她安全地活在信仰中。

高中畢業之後,凱瑟琳修完了一個二年制的專業課程,成為實驗室化驗員。由於有了專長又受到哥哥搬到天霸的鼓勵,於是她在邁阿密大學醫學院的附屬教學醫院找了一份工作。在一九七四年春天,二十一歲時搬到邁阿密。

和大城市比較起來以往的小鎮生活是容易、單純些,但凱琴琳慶幸自己逃離了家庭問題。

她在邁阿密的第一年,便認識了史都華——已婚,是個猶太人,並有兩個小孩,但史都華和她以前交往過的任何男孩子都不同。他是個成功的醫生,魁梧而帶侵略性。他們之間產生了不可抗拒的化學作用但這段婚處情走得坎坷而崎嶇。他的某些特質深深吸引她,使她無法自拔。凱瑟琳開始做治療時,她和史都華的關係已到第六年,雖然時有爭吵,但感情仍是鮮活的。凱瑟琳對他的謊言和操縱怒不可遏,但仍然離不開他。

在凱瑟琳來看我前幾個月,她動手術切除了聲帶上一個良性瘤。在手術前她就憂心忡忡,動完手術在恢復室醒過來時,她更沔壞了。醫護人員花了幾小時才使她平靜下來。出院後,她去找愛德華,普爾大夫,他是一個和藹可親的小兒科醫生,凱瑟琳工作時認識的。他們一見如故,很快就建立起友誼。凱瑟琳可以對他暢所欲言,包括她的恐懼和史都華的關係,及她覺得生命愈來愈失控。他堅持要她來看我,而且不是別的心理醫生,就只是我。當愛德華打電話告訴我這回事時強調,雖然別的心理醫生也訓練有素,但他認為只有我能充分瞭解凱瑟琳。不過,凱瑟琳並沒有打電話來。

八個星期過去了,繁忙的精神科主任職務,使我很快忘了愛德華那通電話。凱瑟琳的恐懼和症狀卻愈來愈烈,外科主任法蘭克。艾可醫生幾年前就認識凱瑟琳,偶爾在實驗室碰到時他們會開開玩笑,他注意到她近來的不快樂和緊張。有幾次他想跟她談談,但都半途打住。一天下午,法蘭克開車到一家小醫院去演講,在路上,他巧遇正開車回家的凱瑟琳,把她招到路邊後,法蘭克從車窗裡大叫:「我要你馬上去看魏斯醫生,別再拖了。」

凱瑟琳的焦慮和痛苦愈來愈頻繁,而且每次發作的時間增長。她開始做兩個重複惡夢。其一是,她開車經過一座正崩塌的橋,車子掉進水裡,她出不來,快要淹死了。第二個夢是她在伸手不見五指的房間裡,不斷被絆倒,可是找不到出路。最後,她終於來看我。

第一次見凱瑟琳,我完全不知桌子對面這個飽受驚嚇而困惑的病人,會把我的生活攪得天翻地覆,並且讓我這個人也從此改觀。

十八個月的密集心理治療過去了,這期間凱瑟琳每週來看我一兩次。她是個合作的病人:坦率、有主見、而且渴望痊癒。

那段期間,我們深入探討了她的感情、思想和夢境。她的一些重複性行為模式使她領悟和瞭解許多事情。她記起了更多過去重要的細節,例如她跑船的父母常不在家,酒後會對母親拳打腳踢等。她更清楚自己和史都華的狂亂關係,也更能親切表達她的憤怒。我感覺她現在應該好得多了。通常病人如果能記起過去的不愉快,並能從更大、更遠的觀點來洞悉這些事,總會進步許多,但凱瑟琳並沒有。

她仍然深受焦慮和痛苦的折磨。栩栩如生的嚴禁一再重複,她仍然怕黑、怕水、怕被鎖起來。睡眠也依舊斷斷續續,得不到休息。她開始有心悸,仍然不肯吃藥,怕喉嚨被卡住。我覺得我遇到一堵牆不管怎麼做,它仍然高得讓我們爬不過去。不過,隨著挫折感來臨,我更有一股不甘罷休的決心。不論怎樣,我得幫助凱瑟琳。

接著一件怪事發生了。雖然她很怕搭飛機,每次都要喝好幾杯酒來強使自己鎮定,但是仍在八二年春天和史都華一起飛到芝加哥參加一個醫學會議。到了那裡,她硬要他陪著去參觀博物館的古埃及文明展。

凱瑟琳一直對古動脈文物和古跡複製品有興趣。她絕不是個學者,也沒研究過那段時期的歷史,可是這些東西卻使她有種熟悉感。

當導遊開始解說展出的文物時,她發現自己竟然可以糾正他,而且她是正確的!導遊很驚詫,凱瑟琳則目瞪口呆。她是怎麼知道這些事的?她為什麼如此強烈地感覺自己是對的,而在大庭廣眾之上糾正解說員?也許這些是她忘記的童年回憶。

那次回來後,她告訴我發生的事。幾個月前,我就向凱瑟琳建議過催眠治療。但她害怕,一直不願意!現在由於古埃及展的經驗,她勉強同意了。

催眠法是幫助病人想起早已遺忘事件的絕佳方法,它本身沒什麼神秘的,只是一種催眠過上百個病人,發現它對減輕焦慮、恐懼、改掉壞習慣很有效,還幫助病人想起被壓抑的事件。有時,我能成功地讓病人追溯到二、三歲,回想起早已遺忘,發覺對現在生活投下陰影的經驗。我相信催眠法能幫助凱瑟琳。

我讓她躺在長沙發上,眼睛半閉,頭枕在小枕上,要她開始把注意力集中在呼吸上;每一次吐氣,釋放出一些長期積累的焦慮;每一次吸氣,又放鬆了一點。做了幾分鐘後,我要她想像自己的肌肉慢慢放鬆,從臉部肌肉到下巴,然後是脖子、肩膀、手臂,再來是背部肌肉、胃肌,一直到她的腿,她感覺全身逐漸地枕到沙發裡。

然後我要她想像體內有一道白光,起初是在頭頂。漫漫地,白光逐漸播散到她全身,使每根肌肉、每條神經、每個器官都放鬆,她的全身在鬆弛、安詳的狀態中。她感覺到越來越困,越來越安靜。最後,在我的指引下,白光充滿了她全身。

我慢慢由十倒數到一,每念一個數字,她的鬆弛程度就加深一層,更接近睡眠狀態。她可以專注於我的聲音,而屏除其他背景噪音。數到一時,她已枕入相當的催眠狀態。整個過程大約花了二十分鐘。

一會而後,我要她回朔從前,記起童年的事。他可以聽我的話並回答問題,而同時保持在催眠狀態下。他記起六歲時在牙醫那兒的可怕經歷,也能生動的描繪五歲時被人推下游泳池的情景,她當時嗆了口水,一直咳嗽,再說這件事時也在我辦公室裡咳起來。我告訴她這件事已經結束了,她已不再水裡。咳嗽停了,她恢復正常的呼吸,同時仍在深深的催眠狀態中。

三歲時,發生了一件最糟糕的事。她記起一天晚上,她父親闖進她漆黑的房間。他當時渾身酒味,他現在還聞得到。他撫摸她,甚至到達下部。她嚇壞了,想哭,他用粗大的手掌摀住她的嘴,令她難以呼吸。在二十五年後的今天,我診療室的躺椅上,凱瑟琳開始哭泣。我感到我們找對了門,就可以長趨直入了。我確信她的症狀從此會迅速地復原。我輕輕告訴她那個經驗已經結束了,她現在並不在那個房間裡,而是安靜地在休息。她停止哭泣,我幫她把時間向前推,到她現在的年紀。在指引她甦醒後,我要凱瑟琳盡力回想她在催眠中告訴我的事。那次回診剩下的時間,我們討論了她對於父親的回憶,我試著幫助他接受這個「新」事件。她現在較明白她和父親的關係了,明白她的反應和疏遠,即她對他的恐懼。凱瑟琳離開診療室時還在發著抖,不過我知道她新獲得的認知值得這短暫的不舒服。在揭開她痛苦壓抑回憶的戲劇化過程裡,我完全把古埃及文物和她童年可能的相關忽略過去。但是,記起一些可怕的事件至少可以是她更瞭解自己的過去。我相信她的症狀會因此大有進步。

但是,一星期後她告訴我,什麼也沒有改進!我很驚訝,不瞭解是什麼地方出了錯。難道是三歲以前的事?我們以找出她怕水、怕黑、怕嗆到的充足理由,為什麼這些症狀及無法控制的焦慮還時時困擾她?她的噩夢和從前一樣擾人。我決定讓她進一步回憶。在催眠中,她用緩慢而優雅的細語講話。也因為如此,我才有辦法即刻逐字記下來。(刪節號是她講話時的停頓,並非我的刪除或改編。不過,重複的地方不包括在內。)

慢慢地,我把凱瑟琳帶到兩歲的時候,但那時沒有什麼重大的事發生。我清楚而堅定地指示她:回到你症狀開始的那個時間。我對接下來的事完全沒有心理準備。

我看到白色階梯通往一個建築,一棟有柱子的高大魄建築,沒有門廊。我穿著一件長袍……一種質地粗糙的寬大袍子。我的頭髮結成辮子,是長長的金髮。

我迷糊了,不能確定發生了什麼事。我問她當時是幾歲,她叫什麼名字。我叫阿朗達,十八歲。我看到建築物前有一個市場許多籃子……每個人把籃子架在肩膀上走。我們住在山谷裡……這裡沒有水。時間是西元前一八六三年。這附近土地貧瘠多沙,很熱。有一口井,但沒有河。水是從山上來的。

她說了更多地形等相關細節後,我要她再往前幾年。長大一些,然後把看到的告訴我。

一條石子路旁有許多樹。我看到煮東西的火。我的頭髮是金色的。穿一件長而粗的棕色袍子,涼鞋。我二十五歲,有一個女兒叫克莉斯塔……她是瑞秋(是凱瑟琳的侄女;她們一向過往甚密)。天氣好熱。

我目瞪口呆,胃裡隱隱作痛。房間裡冷了起來,她在催眠中所敘,一切都很確定。

毫無疑問的是名字、日期、衣服、櫥……都如此生動!到底是怎麼回事?她那時的女兒怎麼又是現在的侄女?我更糊塗了。我看過上千個病人,也做過許多次催眠治療,卻從沒遇到這樣的幻想,即使在夢中也沒有。我指導她回溯到死亡的時候。我不確知要怎麼引導一個在如此幻想(或記憶)中的人,只是盡力朝造成恐懼的原因著手。接近死亡時候的一些事件,可能是特別迫人的。在她接下來的敘述中,顯然有個洪水或漲潮襲擊了她們的村子。

大浪捲倒了樹,沒有地方跑。好冷,水裡好冷。我必須救我的孩子可是辦不到……必須緊緊抱住她。我淹在水裡,嗆到了。我不能呼吸,不能吞嚥……鹹鹹的水。我的孩子從我的手臂中被捲走了。凱瑟琳喘著氣,呼吸有困難。突然間她全身都放鬆了,呼吸變得沈緩平靜。

我看到雲……孩子在我身邊,還有其他村裡的人……我看到我哥哥。

她暫停一段時間;這一世結束了。她仍在催眠狀態下。我目瞪口呆!前世?輪迴?我的臨床經驗告訴我,她並不是在幻想,在杜撰故事,她的思想、表情、對細微未節的注意,和她清醒的人完全不同。所有有關心理治療診斷的理論在我腦海裡認過,但都不能合理解釋她的心理狀態和性格結構。精神分裂症?不,她從來沒有錯亂的跡象,也從來沒有任何幻聽或幻覺等症狀。她並非那種沈浸在幻想世界、和現實搭不上線的人;她並沒有多重或分裂人格。只有一個凱瑟琳,她也完全清楚這點。她並沒有厭世或反社會傾向,她不是賞她沒有服用薌或吃迷幻藥,喝的酒也很少。她並沒有心理或精神上的疾病可以解釋剛才催眠時那段生動的經驗。

這一段記憶,是打從哪兒來的?我覺得彷彿撞進一個我所知甚少的領域——輪迴和前世回憶的領域。我告訴自己,這不可能;我受科學訓練的理智抗拒這種想法。但它確實存在,就在我眼前發生。我無法解釋它,但也不能不論它的真實性。

「繼續」我說,我膽寒但又無限好奇:「你還記什麼嗎?」

她還記得其他兩輩子的一些片斷:

「我穿一件有黑色蕾絲的裙子,黑灰色的頭髮上也綁著蕾絲帶。時間是西元後一七五六年。我是個西班牙人,五十六歲,名叫露意莎。我正在跳舞,其他人也在跳舞。(停了一段長時間)我病了;發燒,冒冷汗……很多人都病了,快死了……醫生並不知道病源是從水裡來的。我要她再向前推,我康復了,可是頭還在痛;頭和眼睛都還沒完全從發燒中恢復過來……很多人死了。」

後來她告訴我,這一世她是個妓女,因為感到很羞愧所以遲遲沒說出來。顯然地,在催眠中凱瑟琳也能評判一些她透露給我的訊息。

在回憶另一世時,由於凱瑟琳曾經在前世中認出了她的侄女,所以我不禁問她,我是否也出現在其中?如果有的話,我很好奇當時我扮演了什麼角色。和剛才緩慢的回憶相反,她一下就回答出來了。

「你是我老師,坐在窗台上。你教我們書上的知識。你很老,生出灰髮了,穿一件有金邊的白袍……你的名字叫狄奧格尼斯。你教我們符號、三角。你很有智慧,但是我不懂。時間是西元前一五六八年。這大約比著名的希臘犬儒學派哲學家狄奧格尼斯早了一千二百年,不過這在當時是個常用的名字。」

第一回合結束,而後面還有更多驚人的回憶。

凱瑟琳離去後的幾天裡,我都在沈思她催眠中講的話。我很習於沉思;正常會診中浮現的細節都很難逃過我的分析,更何況她的特異例子。此外,我對死後的生活、輪迴、身體外的經驗及相關現象,都持懷疑的看法。我心中邏輯的部分告訴我:這有可能是她的幻想,因為我並不能真正證明她的觀點或看見的東西。不過我也隱約意識到一個想法,就是持開放態度,真正的科學乃從觀察開始。她的回憶有可能不是幻想或想像,我們眼睛或其他感官感覺不到的事物也有可能存在,持開放態度可以收集更多的資料。

我有另一個杞人憂天的想法:凱瑟琳會不會拒絕再接受催眠?我決定暫時不打電話給她,讓她也好好消化這個經驗。一切等到下星期再說吧。

一個禮拜後,凱瑟琳步伐輕快地跳進我辦公室。首先說明,她看起來比過去更亮麗,更有光采。她很高興地告訴我,長久以來害怕溺水的恐懼沒有了,怕吞嚥的情形也減少許多;睡眠不再被坍橋的惡夢打斷。雖然她記得前世的一些細節,但還無法把它們接著成一個整體。

前世和輪迴的觀念和她的宇宙觀並不相容,但她的記憶是那麼鮮明,那些景象、聲音、氣味那麼清楚,這經驗太強而有力了,以致她感到自己必定曾去過那裡。但她也不禁忖度,這個新發現要怎麼和她的教養與信仰合在一起。

那個禮拜中,我把在哥倫比亞大學念比較宗教的教科書拿出來看,結果發現,舊約和新約中的確提到過輪迴的觀念。在公元三二五年,羅馬康士坦西大帝和他母親海倫娜,下令刪掉了新約中提及輪迴的部分。而在公元五五三年康士坦丁堡的第二次會議中,證實了確有此行支,並把輪迴觀念作為異端邪說。顯然地,他們認為人不只有一輩子可以尋求救贖的說法會削弱教會的力量。但是,原始的資料的確提到早期的神父確實接受輪迴觀念。西元第二世紀興盛的早期基督教一支諾斯替教教徒——亞力山卓的克萊蒙、奧瑞根、聖傑若米,和許多其他人相信他們曾有前生,並會有來世。

但是,我從未相信輪迴這件事。事實上,我沒有花過多少時間來想這個觀念,雖然早年的宗教訓練中隱約提及死後靈魂的存在,但我沒有真的深信過。

我是家裡四個孩子中的老大,每個孩子間隔三歲,我常是和事佬和仲裁者。我們家在紐澤西洲沿海一個小鎮,屬於一個保守的猶太教區,父親比其他家庭成員更潛心於宗教,他把宗教看得很嚴肅,就像他看待任何世事一樣。孩子的學業成績是他最大的喜悅。他很容易被家中瑣事或衝突惹惱,然後就會撒手不管,由我來調停。雖然這對心理治療的生涯是極佳的職前訓練,但是回憶起來我寧可童年時不負這麼多重擔,這因此成為一個嚴肅的年輕人,一個習慣擔負過多責任的人。

我母親總是能適時表達愛意,不像爸那麼嚴肅沉重,她常用一些罪惡、殉道的觀念來嚇唬我們。她很少憂鬱,我們總是可以從她那兒得到愛和支持。

我父親是個商業攝影師,算是不錯的工作,雖然吃穿不缺,卻也沒有多餘的錢。我最小的弟弟彼得出世後,一家六口要擠在小小的兩個房間的公寓裡。

小公寓裡的生活是忙碌與嘈雜的,我總是逃進書本裡。要是沒去打棒球或籃球,我就不停地讀書。這個小鎮雖然是個安逸的環境,但我知道教育是唯一的出路,我也總維持在班上前二名。

接到哥倫比亞大學的全額獎學金時,我已是個嚴肅而勤勉的年輕人,學業上的成就始終十分順利。我主修化學,畢業時是榮譽學生。我決定做一個精神醫師,因為這領域結合了我對科學及研究人類疏智的深厚興趣。此外,在醫學界的工作可以讓我表達對其他人的關心與同情。同時,一次暑假在喀斯提爾山旅館打工時,我認識了卡洛,她既聰明又美麗。我們彼此立刻產生吸引力,而且覺得對方很熟悉。我們繼續聯絡、約會、戀愛,並在我大四那年訂了婚,一切事都很上軌道。很少年輕人會關心到生、死,或死後生命的事,尤其當一切都很順利時,我也不例外。我所接受的是科學家的訓練,善用邏輯、理性、實事求是的方法思考。

耶魯大學醫學院的課程和實習,更鍛煉了我的科學方法我的研究論文是關於大腦化學作用和神經傳導元的角色。

我加入了生物心理治療的新領域,它組合了傳統心理治療理論技巧和新的大腦化學科學。我寫了很多科學性文章,在地方和國家的會議上演講,漸漸成為這領域中炙手可熱的人物。我有點偏執、緊張、缺乏彈性,不過這些對於醫生來說是有用的特點。我覺得對任一個走進我辦公室尋求治療的人,都已做好了充分準備。

然後凱瑟琳成了阿朗達,一個曾經在西元前一八六三年的女孩。現在她又出現了,比以前顯得更快活。

我再度擔心凱瑟琳也許不願繼續但是,她卻渴望再接受催眠,而且很快進入情況。

「我把花圈投在水上,這是一個儀式。我頭髮是金色的,梳成辮子。我穿一件棕色織金的袍子和涼鞋。有人死了,某個皇室人員……的母親。我是皇家的僕人,負責準備食物。我們把屍體浸在鹽水裡三十天,等干了,並把內臟取出來。我聞到了,聞到屍體的味道。」

「在一棟分開的建築物裡,凱瑟琳繼續道,我可以看到那些屍體。我們在包裹它們。靈魂從上面經過,每個人拿走屬於自己的,準備去投胎。她說的話像埃及人對死亡和再生的觀念,和我們的信仰一點也不相同。在那種宗教裡,你可以帶著屬於自己的東西。」

她離開了那世,休息著。過了幾分鐘,又進入另一個顯然是古代的輪迴。

「我看到冰柱,垂在一個洞穴裡……岩石……她模糊地描述一個黑暗、淒慘的地方,現在她看來不太舒服。稍後她形容自己的樣子,我很醜,又髒,全身是臭味。」然後,她又前往另一生。

「我看到一些房子,及石頭輪子的推車。我頭髮是棕色的,用布包著。推車上有稻草,我很快樂。我父親也在這兒……他在抱我……是……是愛德華(那個堅持她來看我的小兒科醫生)。我們住在一個有樹的山谷裡,院子裡有橄欖和無花果樹。人們在紙上寫字,我看到許多有趣的符號,像字母。人們整天都在寫,要弄一個圖書館。時間是西元前一五三六年。土地一片荒涼。我父親的名字叫網上帕休斯。」

年份不完全吻合,不過我不確定她不是又在回溯上周的那一世。我讓她繼續留在那世,但往前推。

「我父親認識你(指我)。你和他談著收成、法律和政府。他說你非常聰明,我應該聽你的話。」我讓她再前進一點,「他(父親)躺在一個漆黑的房間裡。又老又病。周圍很冷……我覺得好空虛。她前進到她死亡的時刻。現在我又老又虛弱。我女兒在身邊,就在床旁。我丈夫已過世了。女兒的丈夫也在,還有他們的孩子。周圍有好些人。」

這次她的死亡是安詳的。她浮起來。浮起來?這令我想到雷蒙,慕迪教授對瀕死經驗的研究。她的病人也記得浮起來,然後又被拉回自己的身體。我幾年前讀過這本書,現在打算重看一遍。不知道凱瑟琳在死後還能記得多少事,但現在她只能說:我浮起來。我把她叫醒,結束了這一節。

我對於任何已出版的有關輪迴的科學論文,胃口變得奇大無比,幾乎搜遍醫學圖書館。我研讀艾恩。史蒂芬生博士寫的東西他是維吉尼亞大學精神治療系的教授,在心理治療文獻方面出版了大量著作。他收集了兩千名以上有輪迴記憶和經驗兒童的安全其中許多有外語能力,但他們根本沒學過也沒去過那些地方。他的案例報告都十分仔細完整,經過謹慎研究。

我讀了艾德加。米歇爾的一篇精采論文,並以極大的興趣檢視公爵大學的ESP資料,及布朗大學杜卡斯教授的著作,並分析艾本、萬巴赫、施萬德勒、蘭茲、費爾等博士的研究。我讀得愈多,就愈想再讀。我開始瞭解到,雖然我認為自己在人類心智各方面都有涉獵,其實懂得還相當不充足,我發現自己很難相信它。

凱瑟琳和我,在各自的軌道上,都深深受到此經驗的影響。她在情緒上獲得改善,我則是擴展了心智的視野。凱瑟琳被她的恐懼折磨了好多年,現在終於感到些許輕鬆。不論那是真正的回憶還是生動的幻想,我找到一個方法來幫助凱瑟琳了,而且不會就此停下來。

在下一次催眠進行前,她跟我講到一個夢,有關在舊石階上下棋,棋盤上有一個個洞,她覺得這個夢特別地鮮明。現在我叫她往回走,超越時空的限制,回去看這個夢是否在她前世生活中有其根源。

「我看到通往一個塔樓的石階……塔上可以俯瞰山,也可以俯瞰海。我是個小男孩……頭髮是金色的……奇怪的頭髮。我的衣服是短的、棕白色相間、動物皮做的。塔上有個男人……在守衛。他們很髒。他們在玩一種遊戲,像下棋,但不是;棋盤是圓形,不是方形。他們拿著尖尖的、像匕首樣的棋子,插進盤上的洞。棋子上有動物頭。克魯斯頓區,屬於尼德蘭,約一四七三年。」

我問她住處的地名,以及是否看到或聽到年份。「我現在在一個港口;陸地延伸至海裡。有一個碉堡……我看到一間小屋;我媽媽在泥瓦罐上煮東西。我的名字叫約翰。」

她前進到死亡的時刻。在這即催眠中,我仍然在找有什麼重大的創痛能解是她今生的症狀。即使這些異常清楚的景像是幻想(我不能確定此點),它所相信或認為的事物仍可能潛伏在意識中,造成她的症狀,畢竟,我見過有人深深為夢所擾。有些人記不清,究竟童年真的發生過那件事,還是做夢夢見的,但擾人的記憶一樣纏繞著他們的成年生活。

我很快瞭解,每日累積下來的負面力量應該受到同樣的關注,譬如一個病人的嚴苛自我批評,可能造成比一件重大事故更嚴重的心理創傷。這些傷害的影響,因為混入了我們日常生活的背景中,更難被意起或驅逐。一個持續自責的小孩,可能和記得某天被嚴重羞辱的孩子失去一樣多的自信。一個平常家裡會有饔飧不繼的小孩,跟經歷一段饑荒時期的孩子對事物有同樣的危機意識。

凱瑟琳開始說話:「我看到船,像獨木舟,漆成很鮮艷的圖案。我們有武器,矛、投石器、弓和箭,而且很大。船上有大而奇怪的槳,每個人都得劃。我們可能迷路了;天色很黑。沒有亮光。我很怕。我們旁邊有其他船(顯然是一隊馳騁的人馬)。我怕野獸。我們睡在又髒又臭的動物皮上。我們目前在偵查。我們的鞋子很有趣,像布袋……動物皮做的……在腳踝處綁住。(停了很久)我的臉被火光照熱了。我們的人在殺對方的人,但我沒有。我不想殺人。我的刀握在手上。突然間她喉嚨咯咯作響,並急著吸氣。她報道說一個對方戰士從後面扼住她脖子,用刀劃過他的喉嚨,他在死前看到那個人的臉,是史都華。他那時長相不一樣,但她知道是他。約翰死於二十一歲。」

接著他發現自己浮在身體之上,並能看到底下的場面。它漂浮到雲端,覺得困惑不解。接著她很快覺得自己被拉到一個狹窄、溫暖的空間。她很快要出生了。

「有人抱著我,」她如夢般低語,「那個幫忙接生的人。她穿著綠袍,有白衣裙。還戴白帽,在後面撩起來。這房間有奇怪的窗子……好多邊。房子是石造的。我媽媽有長而黑的頭髮,她想要抱我。她穿著一件……粗粗的睡衣。摸上去會痛痛的,再度在太陽下曬得暖暖的,感覺真好……她……跟我現在的媽媽是同一個人。」

上次催眠中,我要她仔細觀察前世中有沒有今生裡重要的人。根據許多研究者,群靈魂會一次又一次地降生在一起,以許多世的時間清償彼此的相欠。

在我安靜、微明的辦公室裡,我嘗試要瞭解這不為世人所知、我自己也十分陌生的領域,我很想證明它的可信度。我覺得需要應用科學方法來求證,那是過去十五年來我在研究中嚴格要求的,現在該拿來評監凱瑟琳口中說出的這些不尋常的材料。

在這段期間凱瑟琳覺得自己通靈的能力更強了。她對事件和人的直覺後來都證實是對的。在催眠中,我的問題還沒出口,她就知道是什麼了。她做的很多夢都有預示性。

一次她父母來看她時,凱瑟琳的父親對這些事表現了十分的懷疑。為了向他證明所言不虛,凱瑟琳帶他到賽馬場。在那裡,就在他眼前,她挑出每次會贏的馬,他目瞪口呆了。結果獲得證實,她把所贏的錢送給在街上遇到的第一個窮人。她直覺地認為,不該用這新得來的通靈能力獲得報酬。對她而言,這能力有更深的意義她告訴我,這經驗有點嚇人,可是她對眼前的進步太高興了,很渴望繼續下去。我對她的通靈能力又驚異又著迷,尤其是賽馬場那一節。可說是唾手可得的證明。她等於握有每次比賽的用得著,這並不是巧合,過去數周來發生了極不尋常的事,而我得盡力維護我的家觀。我不否認她的通靈能力;這些能力是真的,也能證明得出來,可是有關前世的事件是否也是如此?

現在,她回到剛剛出生的這一世。這次輪迴似乎離現在很近,不過她無法辨認年份。她的名字叫伊莉沙白。

「我現在大多了,有一個兄弟,二個姊妹。我看到晚餐桌……我父親在那兒……他是愛德華(那小兒科醫生,再度成為她父親)。我父母又在吵了。晚飯是馬鈴薯和青豆。因為飯菜涼了,他很生氣。他們常常吵架。我父親總是喝酒……他會打我媽媽(凱瑟琳的聲音聽來很害怕,身子也不由自主地顫抖)。他會推我們。他不像以前那樣,他不是同一個人。我不喜歡他。希望他走開。她像個小孩子那樣講話。」

在這種催眠中,我的問話自然不大同於傳統心理治療中的問話。我扮演的角色更像是導遊要在一、兩個鐘頭內走完一生,找尋可能對現世有影響的重大事件。傳統的心理治療比這詳細、悠閒的多。病人說的每一個字都會被仔細分析,看有什麼隱藏的的意義。每個臉部表情、肢體動作單調的變化,都得加以考慮評量。但是對凱瑟琳,數年的時間可能在數分鐘裡就過完了。她的情況像開著跑車以最高速度通過……並得在人群中找出認識的臉。

我把注意力拉回來,要她再把時間往前.

「我現在結婚了。我們的家有一個大房間我丈夫是金色發。我不認識他(也就是說,他並未出現在凱瑟琳今生中)。我們還沒有小孩……他對我很好。」我們彼此相愛,過得很快樂。顯然她已逃出在父母家所受的壓抑。我問她是否認得出所住的地區。

「布列尼頓。」凱瑟琳遲疑地低語道,「我看到有奇怪老舊對面的書。大的那本用皮帶綁起來是聖經。上面印著大大的字……是蓋爾語。」

「我們住在內陸,離海很遠。是……布列尼頓郡。我看到養豬和羊的農場。是我們的農場。她確是往前了。我們有兩個男孩……大的要結婚了。我看到教學尖塔……是一棟很古老的石造建築。突然間她頭痛了起來,凱瑟琳呻吟著按住太陽穴。她說她在石階上跌倒,不過後來痊癒了。她安享天年,死時家人都圍繞在身旁。」

死後她又浮出了身體,但這次並不覺得困惑、迷亂。

「我感到一道明亮的光。感覺很好,我可以從光裡獲得能量。」她休息著,在一生興一生的中間狀態。這樣無聲地過了幾分鐘。突然她開口說話了,但不是先前她慣用的緩慢低語。她的聲音現在沙啞而大聲,而且不遲疑。

「我們的目標就是學習,透過知識而成為像神靈一樣的存在。我們知道的是這麼少。你在此是我的老師我有好多要學的。我們藉由知識接近神靈,然後可以休息接著我們回來,幫助其他人。」

我驚訝極了。她在死後可以傳達出教訓,可以從中間狀態傳遞訊息。但這訊息是從哪兒來的?聽起來一點都不像凱瑟琳會講的話,她從無未這麼說話、用這種詞彙,即使她的單調也全不一樣的。

我無法瞭解為什麼凱瑟琳說出這些話,不是她自己的思想,而只是轉述別人對她說的話。她指出,高度進化、不具形體的靈魂,才是這些訊息的來源,他們透過她來對我說話凱瑟琳不僅能回溯到前世,現在更能成為某種知識傳遞的管道——美好的知識,我竭力維持自己的客觀性。

她引介了一個新的面向。凱瑟琳從未讀過庫博勒—羅斯或雷蒙—慕迪博士的研究,他們都寫過關於死後經驗的書。她也從沒聽過西藏的轉世觀念,但是她敘述的卻是類似的經驗,這也算是種證明。要是我能掌握更多細的轉世觀念,但是她敘述的卻是類似的經驗,這也算是種證明。要是我能掌握更多細節、更多能證實的事實就好了。我曾經懷疑她在什麼雜誌上讀過這樣的文章,或在電視上看到類似的訪問,雖然她極力否認但也許潛意識中存著記憶。不過,現在她更超越這些已有的記述,而從中間狀態傳達訊息回來。

醒來後,凱瑟琳一如以往,記得她前世的種種細節。但是,她卻不記得伊莉沙白死後還有什麼事發生。將來,她也不記得任何中間狀態說的話,她只記得前世的生活。

我們藉由知識接近神靈,現在,我們往這條路上走了。

[/spoiler]
[spoiler title="第二章"]

「我看到一棟正方形的白房子,門前有一條鋪著沙石的小路。騎馬的人們來來往往。凱瑟琳以慣常的朦朧低語說著,有許多樹……一片草地。一棟大房子旁邊有好幾間小的,像奴隸住的小屋。天氣很熱。這裡是南方……維吉尼亞。」她說年份是一八七三年。那時她是個小孩。

有很多馬和農作物……玉米、煙草。她和其他僕人在大房子的廚房做事。她是個黑人,名字叫艾比。她突然有個預感,肌肉僵硬起來。大房子著火了,她看著它在大火中倒塌。我要她向前到一八八八年的時候。

「我穿著一件舊衣服,在二樓一個房間裡擦鏡子,這是一棟磚造的房子,有窗……窗上一格一格的。鏡子凹凸不平,旁邊還有一個握柄。房子的主人叫詹姆斯·曼森。他穿著一件有趣的外套,中間三顆扣子,還有黑色的大領子。他留著鬍子……我不認識他(指未曾出現在此世)。他待我不錯。我住在他的領地上。平日負責打掃房間。領地上有一個學校,但我並未獲准去唸書。我還做奶油!」

凱瑟琳輕聲地慢慢說,很注重細節。在下面的十五分鐘裡,我學會了怎麼做奶油。艾比攪拌奶油的知識對凱瑟琳而言也是新鮮的。我要她再前往。

「我和一個男人在一起,但我們好像沒有結婚。我們同床共寢……但並不是一直住在一起。我覺得他還好,但沒有很特別的感覺。沒看到小孩。有很多野果樹和鴨子。其他人都很忙。我在採摘野果。有東西弄的我眼睛好痛。凱瑟琳臉上肌肉扭曲了一陣子。是那個煙。風往這邊吹來……也有我燒木柴的煙帶來的。他們在燒木桶。她現在咳嗽了。這種事常有。他們把桶裡的東西燒黑……瀝青……鋪在屋頂上防水。」

經過上邊的精彩內容,我迫不及待的要她再進到中間狀態。我們已經在她做僕人那一世花了九十分鐘了。聽了很多鋪床單、做奶油、燒木桶的事:我渴望獲得一些精神方面的訊息。於是我放棄了耐性,要她回溯死亡的情景。

「好難呼吸。我胸口很痛,凱瑟琳喘著氣,顯然相當痛苦。心也痛,跳得好快。但我很冷……身體在發抖,凱瑟琳開始打顫,房間裡有很多人,他們給我一種葉子的水喝(茶)。聞起來很奇怪。他們在我胸口擦一種藥膏。我發著燒……但覺得很冷。」她靜靜地死去了,漂浮到房間天花板上,可以看見自己在床上的身體,一個六十歲老太婆小而蜷縮的身體。她就這樣浮者,等人過來幫她。她感覺到一道光,並且被吸過去。光愈來愈亮,愈來愈亮。我們靜靜等著,時間慢慢過去。突然間她到了另一世,是艾比之前的幾千年。

凱瑟琳輕輕的低語:「我看到好多大蒜,吊在一間通風的房子裡,味道很強,大家相信大蒜可以殺死體內的鬼怪,但必須每天吃。戶外也有很多大蒜,曬在院子裡。還有一些其他的藥草……無花果、棗椰乾等等,這些藥草能治病。我媽媽買了大蒜和其他藥草,因為家中有人生病了。這些是奇怪的草根,可以含在口中,也可以塞在耳朵,或其他有開口的器官裡。」

「我看到一個留鬍子的老人。她是村裡能治病的人之一。他會告訴你怎樣做……這裡有種……瘟疫……死了好多人。大家不敢為屍體薰香,因為怕傳染。死人就這麼埋掉,但村裡人心裡並不痛快,他們認為如此一來,靈魂就不能升天(和凱瑟琳死後的說法相反)。但人們繼續死去,也死了好多牛。水……洪水……人們因為洪水過後才得病的(她顯然剛剛瞭解了這是流行病)。我也因為水而得病。它讓你的胃抽痛,這種病是腸胃的病。身體會喪失很多水分。我在河旁邊,要提水回去,但就是這種水害死大家。我把水帶回去。看到我母親和我兄弟們。我父親已死了。弟弟病得很厲害。」

我並沒有讓她再前往,而是停下來,想著她在一世與另一世間大異其趣的死後觀念。但她每次死亡的的經驗與很類似、很一致。在過世的那一刻會有一個意識的部分離開身體,漂浮起來,然後被吸向一道美好、能灌輸能量的亮光。接著便等人來幫她,靈魂自動地升天。而薰香、屍體或其他死後的程序和這都無關。它是自動的,無需任何準備,就像穿過一道剛開的門。

「土地很乾,很貧瘠……附近看不到山,只有平地,很廣闊乾枯。我一個弟弟死掉了,我漸漸復原,但還是覺得痛。」她的話並不多,她躺在一張小床上,蓋了一些被單,她病得很重,大蒜和其他藥草也挽回不了性命。很快地,她就浮出軀殼之外,被吸往那道熟悉的光,她耐心地等候人來幫她。她的頭開始歪向一邊,又轉到另一邊,好像在看一幅寬廣的風景。聲音又在變得沙啞和響亮。

「他們告訴我有很多神,因為上帝就在我們每個人心中。」

我從嗓音和堅定的語氣裡知道他在中間狀態。接下來所說的,讓我驚得氣都不敢呼。

你爸爸在這裡,還有你兒子也在。你爸爸說你會認識他的,因為他名字是艾伏龍,而你女兒取的名字也和他一樣。還有,他的死因是心臟病變。你兒子的心臟也不好,是反過來長得,像雞心。他因非常愛你而為你作出重大犧牲。他的靈魂是很進化的……他的死償了父母的債。同時他想讓你知道,醫藥只能坐到這個地步,它的範圍是很有限的。

凱瑟琳不再說話,而我全身不能動彈,只想努力理想混亂的思緒。房間裡冷得讓人發麻。

凱瑟琳對我的個人幾乎沒有什麼瞭解。我只在辦公桌上放了一張小女兒小時的照片,笑開的嘴裡漏出兩顆乳牙。旁邊是一張兒子的。除此之外,凱瑟琳不知道我家裡或我過去的事。我受過良好的傳統心理治療教育,心理醫生該維持一種空白的狀態,讓病人能自在地傾吐他的情緒、想法和態度,然後心理醫生再仔細分析其中的曲折。我一向和凱瑟琳保持這種治療的距離,他真的只知道我做醫生的一面,而對我的私人生活無所瞭解。我甚至連證書都沒有掛出來。

我這一生最大的遺憾是第一個兒子亞當——只活了二十三天就夭折了,完全沒預料到。當時是一九七一年初,他出生十天後我們從醫院帶回家,他開始有呼吸的毛病,並不斷嘔吐,非常難下診斷;肺靜脈循環不良,即動脈隔膜受損,他們這麼告訴我們,發生的機率大概一千萬名嬰兒才有一個。肺靜脈,原應該帶著飽含氧氣的血液到心臟去,但結果位置錯誤,變成從相反的方向進入心臟。這就好比心臟是倒置的,非常非常罕有的病例。

即使動了重大的心臟手術也挽回不了亞當。他幾天後死了。我們難過消沉了好幾個月,希望和夢想全暗淡下去。一年以後,另一個兒子約旦出世,算是對我們的傷痛起了些安慰作用。

在亞當出生的那段時間,我正對是否選擇精神醫療而舉棋不定。我在內科實習期做得十分愉快,又有一個住院醫師的空缺等著我。直到亞當的意外才使我堅定的選擇心理治療作終身職業。因為現代醫學以其先進的技術和設備,竟不能挽回一個小嬰兒的生命,令我憤慨。

我父親的身體一向硬朗,直到一九七九年初第一次心臟病發作才亮起紅燈,那時他六十一歲。難逃過第一次發病,但他的心肌已嚴重受損,三天後終於不治死亡。時間大約是凱瑟琳第一次來看我前的九個月。

我父親是一個信仰很虔誠的人,不過恪守儀式的成份大過精神超脫的層面。他的猶太名字艾伏龍壁英文名字艾文更適合他。他去世後的四個月,我女兒出生,於是給他去相同的名字以紀念故人。

現在,一九八二年,我在安靜、微暗的診療室裡,欲有如雷震耳的奧秘向我揭示開來,震得我雙耳欲聾。我在精神的大海裡游泳,不過我愛這水。我手臂上起了雞皮疙瘩。凱瑟琳不可能知道這些事,甚至也沒地方可以查到;我父親的希伯來文名字、我曾有個兒子,死於萬分之一積累的先天心臟缺陷、我對醫學界的看法、我父親的死、和我女兒的命名——太細微、太充分了,不可能是假的。如果他能說出這些事,是不是還能說出更多?我需要多知道一點。

「誰在那兒?」我問,「誰告訴你這些事?」

「靈性大師們」她輕聲說,靈性大師們告訴我的。「他們說我活過八十六次」。

凱瑟琳的呼吸平緩下來,頭也不往兩邊擺動;他在休息。我原想要繼續,但剛才她透漏的訊息使我千頭萬緒。他真的有過八十六次前生嗎?還有靈性大師呢?真的有這回事?我們的生命真的為一些不具有形體、但智慧超卓的靈性大師主宰?真的有一步一步向上帝接近,找到心中上帝的道路嗎?從她剛才揭露的情形來看,似乎很難懷疑這些觀點,但是,要我相信也很難。我必須扭轉過去所累積的觀念。不過,從理智到直覺,我都知道她是對的,她透漏的是真理。那麼關於我父親和兒子呢?在某種意義上來說,他們還活著;他們從未真正死去。在葬禮過後那麼多年,他們在向我說話,而且供出許多非外人所知的訊息要我相信,真的是他們。如果這些都是真的,那麼我兒子,正如凱瑟琳所言,是進化得很高的靈魂?他真的願意為我們所生,為償債僅僅活了二十三天,並且,為讓我明白醫藥的限制,把我拉回心理治療界?我深為這些念頭而震驚。但在我的膽寒之外,有一種巨大的愛蒙出芽來,讓我強烈地感覺與天地是一體的。我很想念我父親和我兒子。能再聽到他們的消息是好的。

我的生命再也不會和從前一樣了。一雙手伸下來,扭轉了我的軌道,再也回不去。那些我讀過的論文、研究,一一印證了他們的真實性。凱瑟琳的回憶和訊息是真的。我認為她正確的直覺也是對的。我找到實據,得到了證據。

但是,即使有這剎那的歡愉和瞭解,即使曾有神秘經驗的片刻,舊日習慣邏輯思考和懷疑仍然在中間。我會告訴自己,也許她只是特例,或憑借某種通靈的能力。雖然這能力本身已很可觀,但也不足以證明輪迴後靈魂存在。可是,我讀過的上千個案例裡。幾乎都呼應凱瑟琳的說法,尤其能說外國語的笑話,前世致命的傷口成為今生的胎記、知道千里以外寶藏的地點、多年前某個特殊的時間。我瞭解凱瑟琳的個性和心性,知道她會做什麼、不會做什麼。不,這次我的心智不能在愚弄我。這些證明太強大有力,他們是真的,凱瑟琳還可以在日後的診療中證明更多。

接下來的幾周,有時我會忘記這次的事情,有時我會陷進日常生活的軌道。但心平時又會記掛起這件事,懷疑仍會浮上心頭,似乎當我的心智不專注時,仍化身於過去的模式、思考和懷疑主義。但那時我會提醒自己——它真的發生過!我瞭解沒有親身經驗要接受這些觀念有多麼困難!對於理性瞭解之外的情緒接受,經驗是必要條件,但是經驗的衝擊總是隨時日而消退。

起先,我不明白自己怎麼變了那麼多,我知道自己變得較有耐性和平和。別人告訴我:「我看起來非常安詳、快樂、靜定。」我覺得生命中有更多希望、喜悅,更多目標和更多的滿足我明白自己不再有死亡的恐懼,不怕自己的去世或不存在,也比較不怕失去他人,雖然我會很想念過世的親人。死亡的恐懼力量驚人,處處可見人類對這種恐懼的逃避:中年危機、與年輕人發生婚外情、整容、累積財富、生小孩以延續自己的後代、費盡心機想變得年輕等。我們是如此憂懼於自己的死亡,有時甚至忘了活著的真正目的。

我也變得不那麼嚴肅執著,我並不需要時刻繃得緊緊的,不過雖然我不想那麼嚴肅,這個改變還是有點困難我要學的還多。

現在我的理智確實開放了,願接受凱瑟琳所說的話是真的的可能性。有關我父親和我兒子的細節,是無法從旁的管道獲得。她的知識和能力顯然可以證明一種超凡的心靈能力。想念她是有道理的,不過我對一些通俗文學中的論調仍持懷疑看法。這些說得出許多心靈現象、死後生命的人是受過科學的觀察和求證嗎?雖然有凱瑟琳的有力經驗,依著我懷疑的個性,仍會對日後每個新事實、新資料做審慎評估。我會檢查它們是否合於已建立的架構,會從每個角度去測試但我也不能否認,架構已經在那裡了。

我們仍在催眠狀態中。凱瑟琳結束了前一世的休息,開始講到一個朝前的綠色雕像。我也從神遊中回來,繼續細聽。她現在在遠古時代,亞洲某個地點,但我的思緒還留在靈性大師那裡。真不可思議,我想。她在講前世、講輪迴,可是比起靈性大師透露的訊息,這些都變得無足輕重了。不過,我現在已瞭解,她得過完一世,才能進行「中間」狀態。「中間」是無法直接到達的。而只有在那兒,才見得到靈性大師。

「綠色雕像大廟前,」她輕聲的說,「是一間有尖塔和雕飾的廟。前面是十七級石階。爬完石階後進到一間小房間裡。香在燒。沒有人穿鞋。頭髮都剃成光頭。他們臉圓圓的,眼珠是黑色,皮膚也很黑。我在那兒,因為腳受傷了來求助。我的腳腫起來,不能,不能站立。腳裡刺進了東西。他們放了些草葉在我腳上……奇怪的葉子……丹寧斯?(她指的可能是單寧酸,某些樹根、樹皮或果實中的天然成份,因它的止血特性常在古代做為藥用)他們首先把我的腳洗乾淨,這是在眾神像千萬賽程的儀式。我的腳裡有某種毒。一定是踩到了什麼不潔之物。膝蓋腫起來。我的腿因受傷而非常沉重。他們在我腳上開了個口,塞了一些熱熱的東西進來。」

凱瑟琳現在痛苦的捲曲,同時也因喝了某種很苦的藥而咳著。要是一種黃色的葉子泡的。她這次痊癒了,但腿和腳的骨骼再也不能如從前活動自如。我要她再往前。她只見到大家過著一貧如洗的生活。她和家人住在只有一個房間的小屋裡,連張桌子也沒有。他們吃稀飯,從來沒有吃飽過。她快速地老去,終其一生都沒有脫離貧窮飢餓,然後死去。我等著,不過可以看出凱瑟琳已十分疲倦。但在我叫醒她之前,她竟說羅勃·貝拉需要我幫助。我不知道羅勃·貝拉是誰,也不知要如何幫助他。之後,她沒有再說什麼。

醒來後,凱瑟琳依然記得她前世生活的細節。但她對中間狀態的事、對靈性大師所透漏的訊息,則完全記不起來。我問了她一個問題。

凱瑟琳,靈性大師這個字在你是什麼意思?她以為是高爾夫球賽用語!她現在進步多了,但對於新觀念和原來的宗教在整合上仍有困難。所以,我決定暫且不告訴她有關靈性大師的事。此外,我不確定若告訴一個人他是靈魂前輩傳達超越智慧的管道,那人會做何反應。

凱瑟琳同意下次催眠是我太太也在場。卡洛是一個受過良好訓練、頗有技巧的心理治療社工,我希望聽聽她對這件事的看法。而且,自從我把我父親和兒子亞當的事告訴她後,她也很想幫忙。凱瑟琳在敘說某一世的經驗時,我逐字記下都沒問題,但靈性大師說話的部分快得多,因此我決定用錄音機錄下實況。

一周後凱瑟琳來了,她繼續有起色,恐懼和焦慮都減輕許多。她的進步是肯定的,但我不能確定為什麼好轉這麼多。她記得阿朗時代的溺水、做約翰時喉嚨被刺、做路易莎時死於水傳染的流行病,及其他大小駭人事件。她一次又一次經歷貧窮、僕役的生活,和來自家庭的虐待。在家中日日累計的一些小傷害也足以對心理造成重大影響。對前世及此生童年的正視,或有助於她的釋懷,但另外還有一種可能:會不會使這些經驗本身給她的助益……就是死亡並非我們所想像的那樣,而使恐懼感減低?會不會是整個過程,不僅是回憶,提供了她療方?

凱瑟琳的通靈能力日漸加強,並且更有敏銳的直覺。她和史都華之間仍有問題,不過現在比較能處理了。她的眼睛發亮,皮膚有光彩。她說,這星期做了一個奇怪的夢,但只能記得片段。她夢到一條魚的紅鰭烙在她的手掌心上。

接著我們進行催眠,她在幾分鐘內就進入情況,又快又輕鬆。「我看到一種像峭壁的地形。我站在峭壁上,往下看。我在那裡看有沒有船來——那是我的職務……我穿著藍色的褲子……藍短褲,奇怪的鞋……黑色的,由鞋扣,好奇怪的鞋子……海平面上沒有船隻。」凱瑟琳輕柔的細語。我要她前進到下一件重大事件。

「我們在喝麥酒,又濃又黑。杯子很厚、很舊了,有金屬焊接的把。這個地方很臭,但聚了大堆人。四周很吵。每個人都在高談闊論,鬧哄哄的。」我問她是否聽到別人叫她的名字。「克利斯韋……克利斯韋。」她此生又是個男的。「我們在吃某種肉,並喝麥酒。酒痕黑,很難喝。他們在裡面放了鹽。」她沒看到年份。「他們在談論某個戰爭,談到用船把港口堵起來;但我聽不出是哪裡。要是他們安靜點,我就聽的到,但每個人都在講話,很吵。」我問她現在在哪裡。「哈姆斯的……哈姆斯的(音近似的拼法)。這裡是港口,威爾斯的一個港口。他們說的是英國腔英文。」她往前到克利斯韋在船上的時間。「我聞到一種味道,什麼東西燒起來了。很難聞。是燃燒的木頭,還有別的。這味道刺激你的鼻子……遠處有東西著火了,是一艘船。我們在裝貨!裡面可能是軍火。」凱瑟琳變得激動起來。「是一種火藥,很黑。會沾在手上。你的動作快。船上有一面綠旗……是綠黃相間。還有三個尖的王冠在上面。」

突然間凱瑟琳因痛苦而扭曲了臉。她相當難收。「啊,」她呻吟,「受傷好痛,手上好痛痛!有重金屬,滾燙的金屬在我手上。烙在我手上!噢!」

我想起她那個夢的片斷,現在瞭解那片手上的紅色魚鰭了。我止住那痛,但她仍在呻吟。「有金屬碎片……我們的船毀了……港口區。他們控制了大勢。很多人被殺了……很多人了。我活下來了……只有手受了傷,但它隨著時間而痊癒。」我要她往下一個重要事件前進。

「我看見類似印刷的地方,用油墨和版來印書,並把書裝訂起來……這些書都有皮的封面,是用繩子裝訂起來的,皮革繩。我看到一本紅色的書……有關歷史的。但看不到書名:他們還沒印完。這些書好棒。那些皮革封面好平滑,是些很棒的書,可以教你好多東西。」

顯然克利斯群沉醉在看這些書並觸摸他們上,也模糊地瞭解學習的潛在價值。不過,他似乎並未受什麼教育。我引導克利斯群到他死亡的那一天。

「我看到河上有座橋。我是個老人了……很老。橋很難走,但我要越過橋……到另一邊去……我覺得胸口很痛……壓得我湍不過氣來,胸口好痛!噢!他喉嚨發出咯咯聲,顯然是回憶到過橋時心臟病發的情景。他的呼吸又急又淺,臉上和脖子上全是汗。並開始咳嗽,喘著要多吸點空氣。」我忽然想到,再經過一鎰前世的心臟病發感覺,是否危險?這是一個全新的領域,沒有人知道答案。最後,克利斯群死了。現在凱瑟琳平靜地躺在長沙發上,深而勻地呼吸。我大大鬆了口氣。「我覺得……自由……」凱瑟琳輕輕地低語,「我在黑暗中浮起來……周圍有光……還有靈魂,其他人。」

我問她對剛了結的一生有什麼想法。

「我應該更有寬恕心,但我沒有。我並未原諒人家對不起我的地方,但我該原諒他們的。我並未寬恕。我把恨意和怒氣吞下,藏了好多年……我看到眼睛……眼睛。」

「眼睛?」我重複道,感覺快遇到大師了,什麼樣的眼睛?

「前輩靈性大師的眼睛」,凱瑟琳小聲說,「但我得等。我還有事情要想。」在緊崩的沉默中過了幾分鐘。

「你怎麼知道他們何時準備好?」我打破長時的靜默,期待地問。「他們會叫我。」她回答。又過了幾分鐘,然後,突然間,她的頭開始左右搖擺,而聲音也變成沙啞、堅定的嗓音。

「在這裡……在這度空間裡有好多靈魂,我不是唯一的一個。我們得有耐性。那也是我還沒學會的……有好多度空間……」我問她以前是否曾來過這裡。

「我在不同時候去過不同空間。每一層都是更高的意識。會去那一度空間端視我們進化的程度……」她又沉默了。我問她進化需要具備什麼條件?她很快地回答:「必須和別人分享我們所知。我們都擁有遠超過我們平常運用的能力。有些人比別人早發現這一點。你來到這裡之前,需要先去除自己的惡忐。若是沒有,你將帶著它一起到下輩子去。只有我們自己能除掉在塵世具有形體時所累積的惡習。靈性大師無法幫我們去除。如果你抵抗而頑固地不改,就會帶著它到另一生去。若我們能掌握一切外在的問題時,下一生就不會有這些我們還要學會去接近那些磁場和我們不相同的人。具有相同磁場的人互相吸引是很自然的,但是,這樣還不夠,你必須走向那些磁場和你不同的人。幫助這些人……是很重要的。」

「我們都具備直覺能力,該順著它,不要抵抗。抵抗的人可能有危險。我們從每個空間來並不具備相等的能力。有些人比較強些,因為他從其他空間累積了能力,人並不是生來平等的,但最後都會達到一點,在那一點上大家是平等的。」

凱瑟琳停下來。我知道這些思想並不是她的。她對物理或形上學並沒有基礎;不會知道空間多次元、磁場等東西此外,這些思想話語的美和哲學意涵,並超出凱瑟琳的能力。她從未以這樣一個簡潔詩化的證據說話我可以感到有另一個更高的力量,濃度透過她的聲帶來傳達這些肇以使我明白。不,這不是凱瑟琳。她的聲音像做夢一般朦朧。

「在光束中的人……暫時不會有進展。除非他們決定要到下一度空間去……否則無法越過限制。只有他們自己能決定。如果他們覺得……具有形體時不再能學什麼……那麼就能過來。但如果還有必須學的地方,即使不想回去也得回去。在此地是一段休息時間,他們的精神力量可以得到所有在一世過後的光束中,人們可以決定要不要再轉世,取決於他們有沒有未完成的德性。如果覺得沒有什麼可學的,便可以直接進入靈魂狀態。」這個肇和我閱讀資料裡的死後經驗很能吻合,也解釋了為什麼有些人選擇回來,有些則是必須回來,因為還有得學。當然,所以講述死後經驗的人都回到他們的身體裡。他們的故事都有類似的地方:都離開了身體而往下看別人忙著急救的情景。最後都會看到明亮的光,或是遠方發著光的靈魂人物,有時是在隧道的盡頭。感覺不到痛。當他們知道肉身的任務並未完成、必須回去時,馬上就達到自己身體裡,重新有了痛覺,和其他的感官。

我曾有幾個瀕死經驗的病人。其中最有趣的一個是個南美的成功商人,他是在凱瑟琳治療結束後兩年來看我的。他叫雅各,曾於一九七五年在荷蘭被一輛摩托車撞得不省人事。他記得自己從身體浮出來,往下看出事的現場,有救護車,醫生在檢視他的傷口,以及愈聚愈多的圍觀群眾。他看到遠處一道金色光,走近時,有個穿黃褐色袍子的僧侶。僧侶告訴雅各,現在不是他過來的時候,他得回到他的身體裡去。雅各感受到他的智慧和力量,僧侶同時說了一些雅各這一生未來會發生的事件,後來都應驗了。雅各又回到他身體裡,現在是躺在醫院病床上,恢復了意識,並且感到痛徹心肺的車禍傷口。

一九八O年,原為猶太裔的雅各到以色列旅遊,參觀位於海本的族長之穴,這地方猶太教和回教都尊為聖地。自他在荷蘭的經歷後,雅各變得比較虔誠,也較常禱告。他看到附近的一個回教寺院,於是和回教徒一起坐下來禱告一會兒後,他站起來要離去。一位老回教徒走過來對他說:你和別人不同。他們很少有人會坐下來和我們禱告。老人停了一會,仔細地看著雅各,才說:你見過僧侶了,別忘記他對你說的話。那事件發生過後的五年,又在千里之外,一個老人卻知道雅各見過僧侶——而且還是他昏迷不省人事時發生的事。

在辦公室裡,我想著凱瑟琳最新透露的人生來並不平等……我們的造物主是怎麼看待這件事的呢。一個人出生時就帶著前輩子自然增值的天份和能力。但最終我們會到達一個大家都平等的點。我猜這個點還要好久好久的許多輩子以後。

我想到莫札特和他不可思議的神童天份。這也是前世帶來的嗎?顯然不僅才能可以傳遞,虧欠與償債也都會帶到下一世。

我想到人類總化身於同類相聚,避免或甚至排擠外來者。這是偏見和種族仇恨的根源。我們必須學習,不僅去接近和我們的磁場相似的人,還必須幫助其他人。我可以感覺到這些話裡的洞見。

「我必須回去了」,凱瑟琳繼續道,「我必須回去。」但我想多知道一些。我問她誰是羅勃·賈拉。她上次催眠中提及這個人,說他需要我幫助。

「我不知道……也許他在別度空間,而不是這裡。顯然她找不到他,只有他想要決定來找我時,才有可能帶口信給你,他需要你幫忙。」

我仍然不明白我能如何幫他。

「我不曉得」,凱瑟琳說,「但你才是他們要教的人,不是我。」

這有意思。這消息是給我的?還是教我為了幫羅勃·賈拉?我們從未真的接到他訊息。

「我必須回去了」,她重複道,「我必須先到亮光那裡。」突然她警覺起來:「哦,我耽擱太久了……我耽擱太久了所以得重新等。」她等待時,我問她看到什麼、感覺到什麼。

就是其他靈魂、其他精靈,他們也在等。我問她等待時有沒有可以教我們的事,有什麼我們必須知道的嗎?

「他們並不在此,」她的回答很有趣。如果大師沒有說些什麼,凱瑟琳無法獨立地提供訊息。

「我在這裡很不安。我想走……時間一到,我就走。」又過了沉默的幾分鐘。最後時間到了,她進入另一生。

「我看到蘋果樹……和一棟房子,一棟白房子。我住在裡面。蘋果爛了……有蟲,不能吃。樹上吊了一個鞦韆。」我要她看看自己。

「我有一個淺色的頭髮,金色的。我五歲。名字叫凱瑟琳。」我吃了一驚。她回到了今生,記起五歲時的情景。但一定有某個原因,「發生什麼事嗎?凱瑟琳」

「我父母很氣我們……因為我們不應該在外面。他……用一根棍子打我。棍子很重,打起來好痛…….我害怕。」她嗚咽地說,像個孩子。「他不打到我們受傷不會住手。他為什麼這麼壞?」我要她用較高的觀點來看她的童年,並試著回答自己提的問題我最近讀到有人能這樣做。有人稱這個觀戰為「較高自我」或「成長自我」。我好奇,凱瑟琳是否也能到達這狀態;如果能,這將是一個很有力的心理治療技巧,一個到達瞭解與洞見的捷徑。

「他從來不曾真正要我們,她輕輕地說,他覺得孩子侵入了他原先的生活……他不想要我們。」

也包括你哥哥?

「是的,他更是。我哥哥完全是計書外的小孩。懷他時……他們並沒有結婚。」這對凱瑟琳是個驚人的消息,她以前並不知道父母是奉兒女之命結婚的。後來她母親證明了這點。

現在往回看時,凱瑟琳多了一份智慧和一種角度,這原先只在中間狀態才出現的。似乎,她有一部分較高的心智,一種超意識。也許這就是其他人描述過的較高自我。雖然沒有和靈性大師接觸,但是,她在超意識狀態下的確擁有較深入的見解,在清醒的意識狀態下,卻比較焦慮、受限;相較之下,清醒時的凱瑟琳是個比較淺薄簡單的人,但她無法隨意進入超意識狀態。我在想,那些所謂已「成道」的東西方聖哲,是不是能利用超意識狀態得到他們的智慧和瞭解?如果答案是肯定的話,那麼我們都有能力這麼做,因為每個人都擁有超意識。心理分析大師容格知道人類意識的同層次,他提出集體潛意識的說法,有點接近凱瑟琳的超意識。

但是我卻為她的意識和超意識間距太大而受折。當凱瑟琳被催眠時,我訝異於和他的超意識所做的哲學性對話。但是,醒來時,凱瑟琳對哲學或相關的題目卻絲毫不感興趣。她活在日常瑣事的世界裡,對她腦袋裡的天分視若無睹。

再回到催眠中。她父親折磨她,理由愈益明顯,「他還有很多的學?」我問。

「是的……沒錯。」

我問她是否知道他該學什麼。他們並未向我透露,她的語調是旁觀的,有距離的,我該知道……是對我重要關係到我的事。每個人該關心……怎樣使自己……變得完全。我們都有功課要學……我們每一個人。一次學一樣,按順序來。只有學完一樣時,才知道下一件是什麼。她用一種低低的耳語說,但充滿關愛。

當凱瑟琳再開口時,童稚的語音又恢復了。「他真讓我噁心!他要我吃一種對我討厭的……是生菜,洋蔥,我最討厭的。但他硬要我吃,他知道我會反胃。他才不在乎!」凱瑟琳開始乾咳。我再度建議她從一個較高的角度來看,為什麼她父親如此做。

「這樣可以填補他的一些虛空,彌補他對我的一些作為,所以他恨我,也恨他自己。」我幾乎忘了她三歲時那件性騷擾。「所以他要懲罰我……我一定做了什麼事使他記恨在心。」她才三歲,而他喝醉了酒。但這件事卻在她心裡烙下深深的印記。我向她解釋這個顯然的反應。

「你只是個小孩,你現在得把自己從罪惡感裡釋放出來。你什麼也沒有做。一個三歲小孩能做什麼?不是你的錯;是你父親的。」

「他那時候一定也恨我」,她輕輕地說,」我以前就認識他,但現在記不清楚。我得再回到那個時候。」雖然已經花了幾小時,但我希望她能回到從前的關係中。我給她詳細的指示。

你現在處於催眠中。等一下我會倒數回去,從三到一。你在催眠中,非常地完全。我要你回到童年時你和他之間最重要的那件事上。我數到一時,你就會回去,記起這件事。這對你的治療很重要你辦得到的。三……二……一。停了很久。

「我沒有看到他……但我看到有人被殺!」她的聲音變得低沉沙啞,「在別人償完他的業障前,我們沒有權利突然中斷他們的生命而我們卻做了。我們沒這個權利。當他們死掉而到別度空間時,就在那裡受苦,他們會不得安寧。而再投胎時,他們的命運會很艱苦。而殺人的人會得到業報,因為他們沒權利這麼做。只有上帝才能懲罰人,不是我們。

一分鐘的沉默過去。「他們走了。」凱瑟琳耳語道。今天前輩靈性大師又給了我們一個訊息,明白有力,我們不能殺人,不管是什麼情況,只有上帝才能懲罰人。

凱瑟琳筋疲力盡了。我決定暫緩她和她父親前世的恩怨,而讓她醒過來。她只記得克利斯群那輩子和小凱瑟琳的情形,其他一概不記得。她很累,不過很平靜、很放鬆,彷彿卸下了一個重擔。我的眼光和卡洛相逢,我們都累壞了,既發抖又流汗,仔細聆聽每一句話,但我們一同分享了這個難以置信的經驗。

凱瑟琳一周後再來時,我打算放上周錄下的帶子給她聽。畢竟,這個前世生活之外的詩般訊息是由她口中而出的,我告訴她,她傳遞了一些在中間或精神狀態的訊息,只是她自己對這個沒有記憶。她不是很想聽。她目前比以前健康快樂得多,並不需要聽這個。此外,它仍然有點詭異。我苦口婆心地勸她聽,說那些話很美,很有啟發性,而且,是由她而來的,我希望與她分享。她聽了帶子上的呢喃低語幾分鐘後,便要我關掉。她說感覺太怪了,令她覺得不舒服。在靜默中,我想起那句「這是為你,不是為她」。

我不知道這個治療要持續到何時,因為她每週都有些進步。只有一些小地方:她仍然害怕封閉的空間,還有,和史都華的關係仍是若即若離。除此之外,她的進步是很可觀的。

我們幾個月來都沒有用傳統的心理治療方式。見面之後,我們會聊幾分鐘上周的內容,接著很快就進行催眠回溯。不論是基於記起了重大的創傷,或基於卸下壓抑的過程,凱瑟琳真的收到了療效,她的恐懼和陣痛的侵襲都消失了。她現在不怕死亡這念頭,也不再怕失去控制。像凱瑟琳這樣的病人,一般心理醫生會用高劑量的安眠藥和抗憂鬱劑。除了藥物以外,這種病人還會密集地接受心理治療,參加小組討論。許多心理醫生相信,像凱瑟琳這樣的症狀有生物學上的根據,是因為缺少一種特殊種的大腦化學物質。

當我讓她進行深沉的催眠狀態下,不禁想到:數周來沒有使用藥物、傳統治療或小組治療,她卻快好了,多麼令人高興。她並不是壓抑那些症狀,而是沒有症狀了。現在她遠超出我預期地快樂、安詳。

她的低語聲又開始了。「我在一棟建築物裡,有圓頂的天花板,裝飾了藍色和金色的圖案。我旁邊還有其他人。他們穿著……舊的……袍子,又舊又髒。我不知道大家是怎麼來的。房間裡有很多雕像。有立在石座上的。在房間一端有個大型的金身立像……有翅膀,看起來很邪惡。房裡好熱……好熱……因為這個房間沒有通風口。我們必須和村子隔離開來。這裡的人做錯了什麼事。」

「你生病嗎?」

「是的,我們都病了。我不知道我們得的是什麼病,但我們脫皮脫得很厲害。天暗下來了。我覺得很冷。空氣很干、很窒熱。我們不能回村裡去。我們得留下來。有些人的臉變形了。

這種病聽來很可怕,像麻瘋病。如果她曾有一世遇到這種不幸,則我們還沒跨過這個障礙。「你得在那裡待多久?」

「永遠,」她黯然地回答,「直到我們死,這種病是不會好的。」

「你知道這種病叫什麼?」

「不知道。皮膚變得很乾,然後剝落。我來這裡幾年了。還有些剛到的人。想回去是不可能的。我們被放逐了……只能等死。」

她這一生很慘,活在穴洞裡。

「我們必須獵自己的食物。我看到一些我們打來的野生動物……有角。黃褐色的皮毛。」

「有人來看你們嗎?」

「沒有,他們不能走近,否則也會得病。我們是被咀咒的一群……因為自己做的一些錯事。這就是我們的懲罰。」她在不同的時空下有著不同的神學觀念。只有死後的精神狀態顯現相當的一致性。」

「你知道現在的年份嗎?」

「我們已經失去時間的軌道了。只有等死而已。」

「難道沒有希望嗎?」我問,也感受到那股會傳染的沮喪。

「沒希望。我們都會死。我的手很痛。全身都相當虛弱。我老了,很難移動半寸。」

「要是完全不能動了怎麼辦?」

「會被抬到另一個洞穴,丟在那裡等死。」

「他們怎麼處理死者呢?」

「把洞口封起來。」

「他們會在人死前就把洞口封住嗎?」我在找尋她害怕封閉空間的線索。

「我不知道。沒去過那裡。我在有人的這個房間。好熱。我抵在牆邊,就躺在那兒。」

「這房間是做什麼用的?」

「用來禱告……有許多神像。熱死了。」

我讓她前進些時間。「我看到一些白色的東西……白色蓋頂。他們在搬運某個人。」

「是你嗎?」

「我不知道。我很歡迎死神降臨。身上實在太痛了。」凱瑟琳臉部扭曲,並流汗。我帶她到她死去的那一天。她仍在喘息。

「很難呼吸嗎?」我問。

「是的,這裡好熱……好熱,又黑。我什麼也看不到……也動不了。」她在那個又黑又熱的洞裡,獨自一人,動彈不得,等死。洞口已經封死了。她又害怕又悲慘。呼吸變得快而不規則。她終於死了,結束了這痛苦的一生。

「我覺得很輕……好像整個人浮起來了。這裡很亮。感覺很好!」

「你還痛嗎?」

「不!」她停下來,我等著大師出現。但相反地,她沒有在上面停留多久。「我很快地降下來。又要到某個身體裡去了!」她似乎和我一樣驚訝。

「我看到建築物,有圓柱的建築。這裡有好多建築物。我們在室外。周圍有樹,是橄欖樹。很美。我們在看什麼東西……人們戴著奇形怪狀的面具,遮住他們的臉,這是一個節日。他們穿長袍、戴面具,假裝成各式怪獸或神話人物,在台上表演……在我們坐的地方上面。」

「你在看戲嗎?」

「是的。」

「你是什麼樣子?看一下你自己。」

「我頭髮是黃褐色的,綁成辮子。」她停住。關於她自己的描述和橄欖樹令我想到凱瑟琳希臘時代的那一生,那時我是她的老師,叫狄奧格尼斯。

「你知道日期嗎?」

「不知道。」

「旁邊有什麼你認識的人?」

「我丈夫坐在我旁邊。不過我不認識他(指今生不認識)。」

「你有小孩嗎?」

「我現在正懷孕。」她的用字遣詞很特別,是古代的用法,不像凱瑟琳意識清醒時。

「你父親在那兒嗎?」

「我沒有看見他。你在……但不在我身旁。」那麼我猜對了。我們回到三千五百年前。

「我在那兒做什麼……」

「你教書……我們都向你學……正方形、圓形,那些好玩的東西。狄奧格尼斯,你在那兒。」

「你還知道我什麼?」

「你很老了。我們有些親戚關係……你是我舅舅。」

「你認識我其他的家人嗎?」

「我認識你太太……和你小孩。你有好幾個兒子。其中兩個比我大。我媽媽已經過世了。她死時還很年輕。」

「你父親一直照顧你長大?」

「是的,不過我現在結婚了。」

「你快生小孩了?」

「是的。我很害怕。我不希望在生產時死掉。」

「你媽媽就是這樣去世的?」

「是的。」

「你害怕自己也發生同樣情形?」

「這種事常常發生。」

「這是你第一個孩子?」

「是的:我很怕,希望快點生。我肚子好大,行動非常不便……有點冷。」她又前進了些時間。孩子快出生了。凱瑟琳沒生過小孩,而我自醫學院的產科實習後就沒再接生過。

「你在哪裡?」我問。

「我躺在石床上,冰冰冷冷地。我好痛……拜託誰來幫幫我。」我叫她深呼吸。她一面喘氣一面呻吟。接下來的幾分鐘她痛得更厲害,孩子終於出來了。是個女兒。

「你現在覺得好點了嗎?」

「很虛弱……流了好多血。」

「你要把她取什麼名字?」

「不知道,我太累了……我要我的孩子。」

「你孩子在這兒,」我隨口附和,「一個小女孩兒」

「嗯,我丈夫很高興。」她累壞了。我引她小睡片刻。一、兩分鐘後,我再把她叫醒。

「你現在覺得好些嗎?」

「是的……我看到動物。他們把東西扛在背上。背上有籃子。籃子裡好多東西……食物……一些紅色的水果……」

「這裡土地肥沃嗎?」

「是的。生產好多食物。」

「你知道這裡的地名嗎?要是有陌生人問到村名,你怎麼回答?」

「戈西尼亞……戈西尼亞。」

「聽起來像個希臘小城。」我說。

「我不知道。你知道嗎?你曾經離開這裡去周遊世界,我沒有。」這是個誤解。凱瑟琳以那一世的眼光來看我,身為她的舅舅,較年長而有智慧,她認為我會知道答案。

「你這一生都在村子裡度過嗎?」我問。

「是的,」她小聲說。「但你去出門遠遊,所以帶回許多我們不知道的事物。你邊旅行邊學,研究地理……不同的貿易路徑,所以你可以把它們畫成地圖……現在你忘了,有很多年輕人登門求教,因為你懂圖。你很聰明。」

「你指的是什麼圖?星象圖嗎?」

「你,你瞭解各種記號、象徵。你可以幫他們……幫他們製成地圖。」

「你認得村裡其他人嗎?」

「我不認得他們……不過我認得你。」

「我們相處得好嗎?」

「很好。你對人很好善。即使只是坐在你身邊,我也覺得很歡喜,那帶給人安慰……你幫助過我們。你幫過我姐姐們。」

「不過,終歸有個時候我會離開你們,因為我老了。」

「不!」她對我的死並未做好心理準備。「我看到一些麵包,很扁很薄的麵包。」

「大家吃這種麵包?」

「是的。我父親、我丈夫和我都吃。村裡其他人也吃。」

「現在是在過節嗎?」

「是……一個節日。」

「你父親在那兒嗎?」

「是的。」

「你孩子也在嗎?」

「是的,但她不在我身邊,在我姐姐那兒。」

「仔細看你姐姐,」我建議她,看是否也是個今生認識的人。

「她不是我認識的人。」

「認得出你父親嗎?」

「是的……是的……是愛德華。有很多無花果,和橄欖……還有紅色的果子,和扁麵包。他們殺了幾隻羊,在烤羊。」接著停了很久。「有個白色的……方盒子。人們死後就躺進那裡。」

「那麼,有人死了嗎?」

「是的……我父親。我不想看到他。我不想看他現在的樣子。」

「但你不得不看,是嗎?」

「是的。他們要把他抬去埋葬了。我覺得很悲傷。」

「是,我瞭解。你現在有幾個孩子?」我要轉移她悲傷的情緒。

「三個,兩男一女。」她了回答的義務後,又繼續沉浸在低落的情緒裡。「他們把他的屍體覆在白布下……」她說得很難過。

「我在那個時候也死了嗎?」

「沒有。我們喝著杯裡的葡萄酒。」

「我看起來是什麼樣子?」

「你非常、非常老了。」

「你好過一點了嗎?」

「不!當你走後我就一個人了。」

「還有你的孩子呀!他們會照顧你的。」

「可是你知道這麼多事情。」她的口氣像個小女孩。

「你會度過的。你也知道很多呀。不會有事的。」我向她保證,她看來在安詳休息中。

「你現在平靜了嗎?你在什麼地方?」

「我不知道。」雖然她已過渡到「中間」狀態,雖然剛才那一生沒有經歷死亡。這一個禮拜我們詳盡地回溯了二輩子。我等著靈性大師開口,但凱瑟琳繼續休息。又等了幾分鐘後,我問凱瑟琳她是否能和靈性大師交談。

「我沒有到達空間,」她解釋道,「要到了那裡才有可能。」她一直沒有到達。等了許久後,我把她從催眠狀態中喚醒。

[/spoiler]
[spoiler title="第三章"]

我們隔了三個星期才進行下次診療。在假期裡,我躺在熱帶海灘上,才有了時間和距離思考發生在凱瑟琳身上的事:在催眠下回溯到前生,並能詳細描述、解釋她在清醒狀態下不知道的經驗、知識;還有透過回憶而大為改善病態——是最初十八個月傳統心理治療無法達到的;並能準確得透露她不知情的死後狀態,人不懼肉身的狀態;死後的多重空間及每一重的功課——有靈魂前輩說出的話,其風格和智慧都不是凱瑟琳所能達到的。的確,是有許多地方值得細細思量。

多年來我治療過上百、甚至上千的病人,他們的情況幾乎涵蓋了所有精神脫序可能出現的現象。我曾在四家大型醫學院教過,也在診所、經神科急診室待過,見過無數各類的精神異常狀況。我知道所有視聽幻覺,也知道精神分裂的妄想,看過歇斯底里、多重及分裂人格的病人。我曾做過防治藥物濫用協會(NIDA)的咨商人員,很熟悉迷幻藥產生的症狀。

凱瑟琳一點也沒有這些症狀。她身上發生的並不是列一種精神疾病。她既不是失去現實感,也沒有幻聽幻視(看到或聽到不存在的東西),或是妄想。

她不吃迷幻藥,也沒有厭世傾向。沒有歇斯底里的人格,也不自閉。也就是說,她知道自己所做所想的事。在催眠中透漏的訊息,和她清醒時說話的風格和內容皆不相同。尤其是通靈,像有關我過去的特定事件(對我父親和兒子的認識),以及她自己的。她具有這輩子無法達到、累積的知識。這些知識,以及整個經驗,是她的文化、教養中陌生的,甚至和她的信仰觀念相違背。

凱瑟琳是個相當單純、誠實的人。她不是個學者,她無法憑空捏造那些從她口裡說出的事件、細節、歷史和詩句。身為一個心理醫師、一個科學家,我確定下來那些訊息不是來自她意識的部分。它是真的,無庸置疑。即使凱瑟琳是個演技純熟的女演員,也無法做到這些情況。這些知識太正確、太特殊化,不在她的能力範圍內。

我思考著凱瑟琳透露前世經驗後的療效。我們踏入這個新領域後,她的進步非常迅速,而且用不著任何藥物。這裡面有種神奇的治療力量,顯然比傳統心理治療或現代藥物有效得多。這力量包括的不只是憶起、抒解重大創傷,還有我們的身體、心理和自我所受的日常傷害。在一世又一世的巡禮中,我試圖用問題去探測這些傷害的模式,包括長期的情緒或身體虐待、窮困及挨餓、疾病及殘障、持續的迫害及偏見、不斷的失敗等等。我同時特別注意那些慘痛的悲劇,例如一次痛苦的死亡經驗、強暴、大災難,或其他可能留下永久印記的恐怖事件。這種技藝和傳統治療中的回顧童年是類似的,只是它的時間範圍擴大到幾千年,而非十年、十五年。因此,我問的問題也比傳統心理治療中的直接、富引導性。但我們這種非正統的探索無疑是成功了。她(及其他後來我用催眠回溯法的病人)迅速地獲得痊癒。

但凱瑟琳的前世回憶有沒有別種解釋呢?會不會是她的遺傳因子當中帶著這些記憶?這種可能性在科學上來講是相當地低。附性記憶需要一代一代透過不間斷的遺傳物質。凱瑟琳一世一世活在不同地方,遺傳不斷被打斷。她曾和子女一起在洪水中喪生,也曾未生育,或年輕時就死了。她的遺傳終止,並未留下來。而且她的死後重生及中間狀態怎麼解釋呢?那時沒有軀體,自然也沒有遺傳物質,但她的記憶卻持續著。看來,遺傳的解釋不足採信。

那麼容格的集體潛意識觀念呢?一個似乎可以借用的人類記憶與經驗之儲水庫。不同的文化常包含類似的象徵,甚至是夢裡出現的。據容格的說法,集體潛意識不是親自得到,而是由大腦結構繼承而來。包括每個文化中的動機和意象,不必靠歷史或傳播來灌輸。我認為凱瑟琳的記憶過於明確,不適於用容格的觀念解釋。她提到特定人物和地方的詳細情形使容格的觀念顯得太模糊,而且還有中間狀態需加以考慮。總而言之,輪迴是最有道理的解釋。

凱瑟琳的知識不僅詳細明確,而且超出她意識清醒時的能力。她所知道的事不是能從書中瞄到、又暫時忘記的那種。她的知識也不可能是童年時得到,而一直在意識中被壓抑。而且那些靈性大師和他們的訊息怎麼解釋呢?它是從凱瑟琳而來,卻不是為了凱瑟琳。他們的智慧也切中凱瑟琳每一生的回憶。我知道這些訊息是真的。我知道它是真的,不僅因為多年來對人類心智、大腦,和個性的研究,也是直覺上的感應,甚至在我父親和兒子透露訊息之前。我多年科學訓練的大腦知道,我骨子裡也知道。

「我看到許多裝油的瓦罐,」凱瑟琳說道。雖然經過三個禮拜間隔,她還是很快進入情況,她目前在另一個時空,另一具身體裡。「不同的罐有不同的油。這裡好像是倉庫或什麼儲藏室。瓦罐是紅色的……用一種紅土燒出來的。罐上有藍帶繫在罐口。我看到一些男人……洞裡有一些男人。他們把瓶瓶罐罐搬來,疊在某處。他們的頭是剃光的……上面沒有頭髮。皮膚是棕色的……棕色皮膚。」

「你在那兒嗎?」

「是的……我在封罐口……用一種蠟……我用蠟來封罐口。」

「你知道這些油是做什麼用的?」

「我不知道。」

「你看得到自己嗎?看看自己。告訴我你是什麼樣子。」她觀察自己時停了一下。

「我梳了一條辮子。我的頭髮梳成一條辮子。我穿了一種長長的袍子。袖口領口有金邊。」

「你是替這些修士——洞口中的男人工作嗎?」

「我的工作就是用蠟來封罐口。那是我的工作。」

「但你不知道這些罐子用來做什麼?」

「它們好像是在某種宗教儀式上用的。但我不確定……究竟是什麼。好像是一種塗油……塗在手上和頭上。我看到我脖子上掛了一隻鳥,一隻金鳥。它有個扁平的尾巴,很扁,頭垂下來指著……指著我的腳。」

「你的腳?」

「對,正確的掛法就是這樣。有一種又黑……又粘的東西。我不知道是什麼。」

「在哪裡?」

「在一個大理石容器裡。儀式裡也用到,但我不知道它是做什麼用的。」

「洞裡有什麼可以顯示你待的是什麼地方,還有年代?」

「牆上什麼也沒有;是空蕩蕩的。我不知道地名。」我要她往前推。

「有一個白色罐子,某種白色瓦罐。頂上的把手是金的,他們鍍金在上面。」

「罐裡有什麼?」

「某種油膏。跟進入另一個世界有關的。」

「是你要進入另一個世界嗎?」

「不!」

「這也是你的工作?為別人預備喪事?」

「不,是教士要做,不是我。我們只是提供油膏、香料……」

「你現在約幾歲?」

「十六歲。」

「你和父母一起住嗎?」

「是的,我們住在一棟石屋裡。房子不大,裡面又乾又熱。其後非常炎熱。」

「到你的家去。」

「我在裡面。」

「你看到家裡有其他人嗎?」

「我看到一個兄弟,我媽媽也在,還有個嬰兒,某人的嬰兒。」

「是你的小孩嗎?」

「不是。」

「現在有什麼重要的事?去找出能解釋你此生症狀的事情,我們得瞭解它。經歷它是安全的,進到事件中吧!」

她用很輕柔的耳語說,」……我看到人們逐漸死去。」

「逐漸死去?」

「是的……他們不知道原因。」

「一種病嗎?」突然間我明白她又回到那個年代很早的一世,以前也曾經回溯過的。在那世中,一種從水而生的瘟疫奪走她父親和一個哥哥的性命。凱瑟琳也為病折磨,但沒有因而喪命。人們試著用大蒜和其他草藥來治病。凱瑟琳曾因死者未按習俗熏香而憤怒。

但現在我們從另一個角度切入此世。「這種病和水有關嗎?」我問。

「他們相信是這樣。很多人面臨死亡。」我已經知道結局。

「但你沒有因這場病而死?」

「對,我沒死。」

「但你病了。」

「對,我很冷……很冷。我要喝水……水。他們認為病是從水裡來的……水裡的什麼髒東西……有人死了。」

「誰?」

「我父親,還有一個哥哥。我媽媽沒事,她復原了,但她很虛弱。他們應該好好埋葬死者。不這麼做這是違反宗教習俗。我很生氣!」

「他們怎麼做?」我驚異於她的一貫性,完全和數月前回憶道此世的情形一致。這種不合常態的葬法再次激怒她。

「他們把屍體放在洞穴裡。可是屍體需要經過修飾的種種手續,它們該被好好包裹起來,並熏香,但現在卻這樣放在洞穴裡。水淹到陸地上來了……他們說都是水惹得禍,不能喝水。」

「有方法可以治療嗎?什麼才有效?」

「有幾種草藥,不同的草藥。香氣……草藥的香氣。我可以聞得到它!」

「你認得出是哪種氣味?」

「一種白色的草藥。他們把它掛在天花板上。」

「像大蒜嗎?」

「到處都掛著……性質很像,對……你會把它放進嘴裡、耳朵裡、鼻子裡,到處都放,味道很強,大家相信這樣可以擋住惡靈進入身體的路。有種紫色的……水果,紫色的表皮。」

「你認得出這裡屬於什麼文化?熟悉嗎?」

「我不知道。」

「紫色的果子也是藥嗎?」

「丹寧斯。」

「它對你有幫助嗎?可以治病?」

「當時人是這麼認為。」

「丹寧斯,」我重複道,想證實它是否就是我們所講的單寧酸,「它們是這麼叫的嗎?丹寧斯?」

「我只是……一直聽到有人講丹寧斯。」

「這一世在你今生裡到底埋下什麼?你為什麼一直回溯到這裡?究竟是什麼地方使你不舒服?」

「宗教,」凱瑟琳很快地低語,「那時候的宗教。那時一種恐懼的宗教……恐懼。有好多東西是我怕的……有好多神。」

「你記得任何一個神的名字嗎?」

「我看到眼睛。我看到一個黑色的……有點像……像胡狼。是個雕像。它算是某種守衛神……還有一個女神,頭上戴了盔。」

「你知道他的名字嗎?」

「歐塞裡斯(Osiris,古代埃及主神之一,Isis之夫)……西雷斯(Sirus)……或近似的音。我看到一隻眼睛……就一隻眼睛,在鏈子上。是金子做的。」

「一隻眼睛?」

「是的……誰是海瑟(Hathor)?」

「什麼?」

「海瑟!他是誰?」

我從沒聽過海瑟,不過倒是知道歐塞裡斯,要是發音正確的話,他是埃及女神愛色斯(司豐饒的女神)的丈夫。我後來才知道,海瑟是埃及的愛及歡笑女神。」他是諸神之一嗎?」我問。

「海瑟!海瑟!」中間停了一長段時間。「鳥……它是扁平的……一隻扁平的鳳凰……」她再次靜了下來。

「往前到你此世最後一天去。到最後一天,但尚未死的時候。告訴我你看到什麼。」

他以非常輕柔的低語回答,「我看到人和建築。我看到涼鞋。涼鞋,還有粗布衣服。」

「然後呢?到你快死的時候。你發生了什麼事?你能看到的。」

「我看不到……我看不到自己。」

「你在哪裡?看到什麼?」

「什麼也沒有……一片黑暗……我見到一道光,一道溫暖的光。」她已經死了,已經過渡到精神狀態。顯然她不需要再經歷一次死亡經驗。

「你能進到光裡去嗎?」我問。

「我正要去。」她平靜地休息,等待中。

「你現在能回頭看剛才那一生的教訓嗎?你現在能否明白?」

「不能。」她小聲說。繼續等著。突然間她顯得警醒,雖然眼睛還是閉著,一如她在催眠狀態下總是閉著。她的頭左右擺動。

「你現在看到什麼?發生什麼事?」

她聲音變大了,「我覺得……有人在跟我講話!」

「他們說什麼?」

「有關耐性。一個人得有耐性……」

「很好,繼續。」

回答是出自詩人大師之口。「耐性和適當時機……每件事在該來的時候就會來。人生是急不得的,不能像許多人希望的時間表一樣。我們必須接受凡事來臨的時間,不要強求。但人生是無盡的,我們不曾真的死去;也從未真的出生,我們只是度過不同的階段,沒有終點。人有許多階段,時間不是我們所看到的時間,而是一節節待學的課。」停了許久之後,詩人大師繼續:「凡事會在該清楚的時候清楚。但你得有幾回消化我們給你的訊息。」凱瑟琳停住了。

「我還有更多要學的嗎?」我問。

「他們走了,」她輕輕地說,「我什麼也聽不到了。」

[/spoiler]
[spoiler title="第四章"]

每過一周,凱瑟琳神經質的恐懼和焦慮就減去一層。每過一周,她就顯得多了一份寧靜、多一份柔美和耐性。她變得更有信心,而周圍的人也自然被她吸引。凱瑟琳付出更多關愛,其他人也更關懷她。她真實個性中的那顆鑽石現在愈發明亮,使大家都看得到了。

凱瑟琳的回溯,前後經歷千年。每次她進入催眠狀態,我都不知道這次她的前世會在哪裡。從史前洞穴到古代埃及,再到現代……她都待過。而她所有的輪迴,都有前輩大師慈藹的監督。在今天這節催眠裡,她出現在二十世紀……但不是以凱瑟琳的身份說話。

「我看到一架機身和一條跑道,某種飛機跑道。」她輕聲說。

「你知道在哪裡嗎?」

「我看不到……好像是阿雨薩提安(音譯)?」然後,她更肯定地說了一次,「阿雨薩提安。」

「在法國?」

「我不知道,反正就是阿雨薩提安……我看到一個叫馮·馬克的名字,馮·馬克。一種棕色的頭盔和帽子……有關目鏡的帽子。部隊已被裁減了。這裡似乎已是荒郊野地。我想附近不會有城鎮。」

「你看到什麼?」

「我看到被毀的建築,地面被炸得滿目瘡痍。有一個很隱蔽的地方。」

「你在做什麼?」

「我在幫忙抬傷兵。他們要把傷患移到別處。」

「看看你自己,形容給我聽。」

「我穿了一種夾克。頭髮是金色的,藍眼珠。我的夾克很髒。好多人受傷了。」

「你受過救傷兵的訓練?」

「沒有。」

「你住在這兒,還是被帶來?你住在那裡?」

「我不知道。」

「你大概幾歲?」

「三十五。」凱瑟琳本人是二十九歲,棕褐色眼珠,而非藍色。我繼續發問。

「你有名字嗎?夾克上是否有名字?」

「這是個特殊的夾克。我是個飛行員……」

「你駕駛飛機?」

「誰讓你飛的?」

「我服的是飛行役。這是我的工作。」

「你也投炸彈嗎?」

「我們機上有個炮手。還有領航員。」

「你飛哪一種飛機?」

「某種直升機。有四個螺旋槳。固定機翼。」我感到有趣,因為凱瑟琳對飛機一無所知,我懷疑她清醒時不知怎麼想「固定機翼」的意思。不過,就像做奶油或為死者薰香一樣,在催眠中她具有大量儲存的知識。但是,這些知識中只有一小部分在日常生活、清醒時被記起。我繼續。

「你有家人嗎?」

「他們沒和我在一起。」

「他們安全嗎?」

「我不知道。我怕……怕他們回來。我朋友快斷氣了!」

「你怕誰回來?」

「敵軍。」

「他們是哪國人?」

「英軍……美國武裝部隊……英軍。」

「你記得你的家人嗎?」

「記得?我快搞混了。」

「我們往回走一點,還是同一世。回到快樂的時光,戰前,和家人在一起的時候。你可以看到的。我知道那很難,不過我要你放鬆。試著想起來。」

凱瑟琳停住,然後小聲說,「我聽到(艾力克)這個名字……艾力克。我看到一個金髮小孩,一個女孩。」

「是你的女兒嗎?」

「是的,一定是……瑪格。」

「她在你附近嗎?」

「她和我在一起。我們去野餐。天氣真好。」

「除了瑪格還有誰跟你在一起?」

「我看到一個棕髮女人坐在草地上。」

「她是你太太嗎?」

「是的……我不認識他。」她加上一句,指的是凱瑟琳此世中不認得。

「你認識瑪格嗎?仔細看看她,是否認得?」

「是的,但我不知道……怎麼認識的,大概在哪裡見過。」

「你會想起來的。看她的眼睛。」

「是茱蒂。」她回答。茱蒂是凱瑟琳現在最要好的朋友。她們初見時就有種熟悉感,很快就變成知心朋友,彼此信任,不必說出口就知道對方的想法和需要。

「茱蒂?」我重複道。

「是茱蒂。她看起來像她……笑起來也像她。」

「那很好。你在家快樂嗎?或是有什麼問題?」

「沒有問題。」(停了很久)「對,現在是不安的時代。德國政府內部有很大的問題,政治結構的問題。大家都有不同的意見。這樣會把我們力量分散的……但我必須為我的國家而戰。」

「你對國家有強烈的向心力嗎?」

「我不喜歡戰爭。我覺得殺人是不對的,但我必須盡我的職責。」

「現在再回到剛才的地方,回到地上的飛機、轟炸和戰爭中去。時間在更後面,戰事開始後。英國和美軍在你附近投炸彈。回去。你又看到飛機了嗎?」

「是的。」

「你對職責和殺敵是否仍是一樣的感覺?」

「是的,我們會死得毫無價值。」

「什麼?」

「我們會死得毫無價值。」她大聲地重複。

「沒價值?為什麼?不是很光榮嗎?你在保護你的祖國和你愛的人。」

「我們只是為保護少數人的想法而死。」

「即使他們是國家的領導者?他們可能有錯……」她很快打斷了我的問題。

「他們不是領導者。假如他們是,政府內……就不會有那麼多戰爭。」

「有些人說他們瘋了。你認為有道理嗎?瘋狂追求權力的人?」

「我們一定全都瘋了,才會讓他們牽著鼻子走,讓他們叫我們……去殺人,以及殘害自己……」

「你的朋友不是全殉職了嗎?」

「不是,還有些人活著。」

「有你特別接近的嗎?你飛行隊的同僚呢?那個炮手和領航員還活著嗎?」

「我沒看到他們!不過我們的飛機沒被擊落。」

「你還要再開那架飛機?」

「是的,我們得趕快把留在機場的飛機……在敵軍回來前開走。」

「到你的飛機裡去。」

「我不想去。」彷彿她可以跟我討價還價似的。

「但你得把它開離地面呀。」

「好沒意義……」

「你在戰前做的是什麼職業?記得嗎?艾力克做的是什麼?」

「我是一架小飛機……的副駕駛。專門運貨的飛機。」

「所以你那時也是飛行員?」

「是的。」

「會讓你常常不在家?」

她非常輕柔地回答,「是的。」

「往前去,」我指引她,「到下一次飛行去。你辨得到嗎?」

「沒有下一次的飛行。」

「你發生了什麼事嗎?」

「是的。」她的呼吸開始加速,也顯得激動起來。她已經到了死亡那一天。

「發生什麼事?」

「我從火災現場逃開。我和同伴被這場火拆散了。」

「你活下來了嗎?」

「沒有人活下來……沒有人躲得過戰爭。我要死了!」她的呼吸很重。「血!到處都是血!我胸口好痛。我的胸口……和腿……和脖子都受傷了。痛得受不了……」她在劇痛中;但很快她的呼吸慢下來,變得較規律;臉上肌肉也放鬆了,又寧靜的表情,我認得這是過渡狀態的平靜。

「你看來舒服些了。結束了嗎?」她停了一下,然後很輕柔地回答:

「很好。休息吧。你過了艱難的一生,經過一次艱難的死亡。你需要休息好好補充能量吧。從這一生你學到什麼?」

「我學到恨……無意義的殺氣……誤導的恨……許多人並不明白他們為什麼要恨。我們在肉身狀態時,被邪惡所驅使……」

「有沒有比國家的職責更重要的價值觀,使你能不去殺人?譬如個人的價值觀?」

「有的……」但她沒有詳加說明。

「你現在在等什麼嗎?」

「是的,我在等著進入更新的狀態。我必須等。他們會來找我……他們會來的……」

「好,他們來時我想和他們談談。」我們又等了幾分鐘。接著她的聲音突然變大而沙啞,我聽出是第一位靈魂前輩,而非詩人前輩在說話。

「對於在肉身狀態的人,你這種做法是對的。你必須去除他們心中的恐懼。恐懼存在時就會浪費精力,恐懼使他們到這兒來不能得到該有的補充。從你的周圍注意暗示。他們首先得進入一種深深的……狀態,不感覺自己的肉體存在,然後你才能接近他們。困擾……只存在於表面,在他們靈魂深處,能產生想法的地方,那才是你得接近的地方。

能量……任何事物都是能量,好多都浪費掉了。高山峻嶺……在山的深處是靜的。在它中心是平靜的,但外界是產生麻煩的地方。一般人只看到外在,但你能更深入。你必須看到火山,要做到這一點,就得深入內部。

在肉體狀態是不正常的,靈魂狀態才是我們的根本。從肉體狀態推向無知的開端,要花較長時間才能學會一件事。到了靈魂世界,你只需要等,就能更新。有一個更新的層次,你幾乎到達了……

這令我驚訝,我可能接近了更新的層次?「我幾乎到達了?」我難以置信的問。「是的。你比別人知道的多的多。但對他們有耐心點,他們並沒有你獲得的訊息。有些靈魂會幫你,不過你目前做對了……繼續下去。能量不應被浪費,你必須出去恐懼。那將是你最大的武器……

靈魂大師靜了下來,我審思著這些訊息的意義。它不僅是證明催眠作為工具治療的效果,也不僅僅是前世的回溯。我相信它是關於死亡的恐懼,也就是火山內部的不安。死亡的恐懼,這命是無盡的,所以我們不能死,我們也從未出生,那這恐懼就可以消除。如果他們知道以前活過無數次,將來也會再活無數次,不知會覺得多有保障。要是他們知道對人的暴力和不公都得償還,可以少掉多少憤怒和報復慾望。如果真的,「我們皆有知識接近上帝」,那麼財富權利又有什麼用?他們本身卻是目的,而不是接近上帝的方法。如此一來,貪婪與嗜好權利變的毫無價值了。

但是怎麼向人說明這些訊息呢?大多數人都在他們的教堂、聚會或寺廟裡誦著經文,那些經文也記載靈魂的不朽。但是儀式一結束,他們又回到互相競爭的軌道裡,依舊貪婪,喜好操縱、以自我為中心,這些特性都會阻礙靈魂的進步。所以,如果信仰還不夠的話,也許科學可以幫上點忙。也許象凱瑟琳和我的經驗需要自然、科學和行為學專家用科學、客觀的態度加以研究、分析。但是,在此時,寫篇科學論文或一本書是飽享裡最不想做的事。我想著那些會來幫我的靈魂,他們能幫我做什麼呢?

凱瑟琳動了,開始低語:「有個叫基甸的……有個叫基甸的……基甸。他想跟我說話。」

「他說了什麼。」

「他就在附近,不停下來,他是某種守護者……但他現在只是跟我玩。」

「他是你的守護者之一?」

「是,但他在玩……到處跳來跳去。我想他是要我知道,他……隨時都會在我身邊。」

「基甸?」我重複道。

「他就在那兒。」

「這讓你感到更安全嗎?」

「是的,我需要他時他會回來。」

「很好。有沒有靈魂在我們附近?」

她以超意識的角度回答。「哦,有的……許多靈魂。但他們只在想來時才來。我們都是靈魂。但其他的……有的在肉身狀態,有的正在更新階段。其餘的就是守護者。我們也都做過守護者。」

「我們為什麼要回到塵世裡學?做為靈魂不能學嗎?」

「那是不同層次的學習,有些是必須在血肉之軀裡學的,必須讓我們感受到痛。成為靈魂時是沒有痛的,那是一個更新的時刻,你的靈魂會恢復元氣。當你在血肉之軀裡,會覺得痛、會受傷。在靈魂形式裡則沒有感官,只有快樂、幸福感,但它對我們只是……一段恢復的時期。人在靈魂形式時,彼此的互動是不一樣的。在肉體狀態時……你可以體驗人際關係。」

我瞭解。她又沉默了,幾分鐘過去了。

「我看到一輛推車」,她開始說,「一輛藍色的推車。」

「嬰兒車?」

「不是,是人駕馭的……藍色的!頂上有藍色流蘇,外面也是藍的……」

「它有很大的輪子。我沒看到人在裡面,只有兩匹馬在前面……一匹灰的一匹棕的。那匹灰馬的名字叫愛波,因為他喜歡吃蘋果。另一匹的名字叫公爵。他們都是好馬,不會咬人。腿很長……」

「是不是也有一匹壞馬?一匹不同的馬?」

「沒有。他們都很乖。」

「你在那兒?」

「是的。我可以看到他的鼻子,比我的大好多。」

「你會駕車子嗎?」從她的回答,我可以看出她是個孩子。

「好多馬。還有一個小男孩。」

「你幾歲?」

「很小。我不知道,我不會數數。」

「你認識那男孩?是你朋友,還是兄弟?」

「他是個鄰居,來這裡……玩。有個……婚禮什麼的。」

「你知道誰要結婚?」

「不知道,大人叫我們不准弄髒。我有一頭棕髮……鞋子兩邊的扣子一直扣上來。」

「這是你的賓會服?好衣服?」

「是一件白色的……洋裝,周圍蓬蓬的,還在背後綁一個蝴蝶結。」

「你家就在附近?」

「是一棟大房子。」她回答。

「你就是住在那裡?」

「是的。」

「好。現在你可以看看房子裡的情形;沒關係的。這是重要的一天,其他人也會穿得很整齊,穿著特別的衣服。」

「他們在做菜,好多吃的。」

「他聞得到?」

「是的。他們在做一種麵包。麵包……和肉……大人叫我們再出去玩。」我不禁會心一笑。我告訴她進去沒關係的,現在她又被叫出來。

「他們怎麼叫你們?」

「……曼蒂……曼蒂和艾德華。」

「他就是那男孩?」

「是的。」

「大人不讓你們待在房子裡?」

「對,他們太忙了。」

「你對這個有什麼感覺?」

「我們並不在乎。可是要不弄髒很難,什麼都不能玩了。」

「後來你們去參加婚禮了嗎?」

「是的……我看到好多人。屋裡很擠。天氣很熱。有一個牧師在那裡……他戴一頂很好笑的帽子一頂大黑帽……把他的臉遮掉一大半。」

「這是你家的快樂時光?」

「是的。」

「是誰要結婚?」

「我姐姐。」

「她比你大很多?」

「是的。」

「她漂亮嗎?」

「漂亮。她頭髮周圍有好多花。」

「靠近一點看她。有沒有在其他地方見過?看看她的眼睛、嘴巴……」

「有。我想她是貝琪……不過小得多。」貝琪是凱瑟琳的朋友兼同事。她們很接近,不過凱瑟琳討厭貝琪評判人的態度,還有對她生活的干涉。畢竟,她只是個朋友,不是家人。不過也許那個感覺現在不那麼明顯了。「她喜歡我,我可以站到很前面去,因為她在那裡。」

「好。看看你周圍。你父母也在嗎?」

「是的。」

「很好。仔細看看他們。先看你媽媽。記得她嗎?看她的臉。」

凱瑟琳深呼吸了幾點。「我不認得她。」

「看看你父親,仔細看。看他的表情、他的眼睛……還有他的嘴。認識他嗎?」

「他是史都華。」她很快地回答。所以,史都華又出現了。值得再追究下去。

「你和他的關係如何?」

「我很愛他……他對我很好。但他覺得我是個小討厭。他覺得小孩都很麻煩。」

「他很嚴肅嗎?」

「不,他喜歡跟我們玩。但我們問太多問題了,要不是我們問太多問題,他是對我們很好的。」

「那令他很煩?」

「是的,我們該向老師學,而不是他,所以我們才要到學校去。」

「這聽起來像他講的話。他對你說過這些?」

「是的。他有更重要的事情做,他得管整個農場。」

「是個大農場嗎?」

「是的。」

「你知道地點是那裡?」

「不知道。」

「大人有沒有提過城市或國家的名字?鎮名呢?」

她停下來,仔細地聽,「我沒聽到。」她又靜下來。

「好,你想對這一生多知道點嗎?往前推,或者……」

她打斷我,「這樣夠了。」

[/spoiler]
[spoiler title="第五章"]

治療凱瑟琳的整個過程,我都不太願意和別的醫生討論她的案例。事實上,除了卡洛和其他一些「安全」的對象,我根本沒提過這些驚人的消息。我知道這些訊息是真的,而且非常重要但擔心同事的反應使我保持緘然。我仍然在乎我的名聲、事業,以及別人怎麼看我。

但是,我的懷疑論卻一週一周地被她口中吐出的話所腐蝕。我常重放那些帶子,再度經歷催眠時的情景,覺得非常生動、直接。但其他人只能聽我口訴,雖然有力,但絕非他們自己的經歷,我覺得必須多得到一點資料。

當我逐漸接受,並想念這些訊息,我的生活也變得更單純、更容易滿足。不需要玩什麼把戲,也不需要假裝、扮演其他角色,或做不是我這個人會做的事。人際關係變得更誠實、直接。家庭生活中更沒有困擾,更能放鬆心情。對凱瑟琳的故事,不願公開的態度消除了。令我驚訝的是,大多數人都很感興趣,而且想知道更多。許多人告訴我他們個人的超自然經驗,不論是前世夢境、脫離身體的經驗,或其他。有些人甚至連他們的配偶也未提過。大家幾乎一致地怕說出來後,即使家人或心理醫生也會覺得他們奇怪、胡言亂語。但這些靈學的經驗卻相當普遍,比我們想像的更常發生。是因為不願透露,才使它們顯得稀少。而愈是受過高等教育的人愈是不願提起。

服務於我這家醫院某個部門的主任,是具國際聲譽的專家。他曾和過世的父親說過話,那位老人家數度使他免遭危險。另一個教授,在夢中知道他一個複雜研究實驗所缺的步驟,結果顯示夢的正確。另一個著名的醫生,常在接電話前就知道是誰打來。中西部一家大學心理治療系系主任的太太,也有心理學博士學位,她的研究計劃一向謹慎而細密。她從沒有告訴任何人,第一次去羅馬時,穿梭在大街小巷彷彿記憶中有張地圖。她正確無誤地知道,下一個轉角會是什麼。雖然她以前沒去過意大利,也不會意語,卻不斷有意大利人對她說意大利語,誤把她當做當地人。

我瞭解為何這些受過高度訓練的專家不敢開口,我就是其中之一。我們不能否認自已的經驗和感覺,但我們受的訓練在很多方面卻和這些訊息、經驗相反,所以我們開不了口。

一周很快地過去。期間,我一次又一次反覆地聽上回所錄的帶子。我要怎麼接近「更新」的狀態?我並不覺得特別受啟發。而靈性大師們執意要幫我,但我該怎麼做呢?什麼時候才會出現?我會收到試驗嗎?我知道我必須有耐性地等待,我記得靈性大師的話:「耐性與適當時機……凡事該來得到時就會來……在該清楚的時候你就會瞭解,但你得有機會消化我們給你的東西。」所以我要等。

這節開始前,凱瑟琳說了一個前幾晚做夢的片段。在夢裡,她住在父母家中,半夜裡起火了。她很能自制,幫著清出房內的東西,但她父親卻踱著步,好像對眼前的緊急狀態視若無睹。她把他推向屋外。突然,他想起一件忘在屋裡的東西,便遣凱瑟琳再回到熊熊大火中去拿。她記不起那件東西是什麼。我打算先不解這個夢,看看她在催眠中是否有別的機會。

她很快進入深沉的催眠狀態。「我看到一個戴頭巾的女人,但沒有遮住她的臉,只是包著頭髮。」然後她靜下來。

「你現在看得到那頭巾嗎?」

「看不到了……是黑色的絲錦,上面繡了金色圖案……我看到一棟建築……白色的。」

「你認得這座房子?」

「不。」

「是棟大房子嗎?」

「不大。房子背後有積雪的山為背景。不過山谷裡的草是青的……我們在那兒。」

「你能進那棟房子裡嗎?」

「是的。它是用一種大理石建成的……摸上去很冷。」

「他是座廟或宗教性的建築嗎?」

「我不知道。我想它可能是座監獄。」

「監獄?」我重複道,「裡面有人嗎?或是附近?」

「是的,有些士兵。他們穿黑色的制服,肩上有金色流蘇垂下來。戴黑色頭盔,頂上有尖尖的飾物……還有紅色的腰帶。」

「你身邊有士兵嗎?」

「大約兩三個。」

「你在監獄裡嗎?」

「我在別處,不在裡面,但很近。」

「看看周圍。附近有山、有草地,還有那棟白建築物。除此之外,有其他房子嗎?」

「要是有,也不在附近。我看到一棟……單獨的房子,蓋在牆後面。」

「你想它是個碉堡或監獄,類似的建築?」

「可能是,不過……它非常獨立。」

「這對你為什麼重要?」(停了許久)「你知道這裡是什地方、什麼國家?士兵們在那裡?」

「我一直看到『烏克蘭』幾個字」

「烏克蘭?」我重複,驚異於她每一世的變化,「你看得到年份嗎?或是時代?」

「一七一七年,她遲疑的回答,接著又修正到,「一七五八年……對,一七五八年。有好多士兵。我不知道他們做什麼的。都佩了長彎刀。」

「你還看到、聽到什麼?」我問。

「我看到一處泉水,他們用來餵馬喝。」

「那些兵騎馬嗎?」

「是的。」

「那些士兵有沒有其他稱呼?他們怎麼叫自己的?」她聽著。

「我沒聽到。」

「你在他們之中嗎?」

「不。」她回答又再次像個小孩,常是單音節的。我必須變得非常主動。

「但你看到他們就在附近?」

「是的。」

「你住在城裡?」

「是的。」

「好。看看是否能到你住的地方。」

「我看到一些破爛衣服。看到一個小男孩。他的衣服很破,全身發抖……」

「他在城裡有家嗎?」接著停了一段長時間。「我沒看到。」她繼續。他對這一生似乎有點銜接的困難。所以回答有些模糊、不肯定。

「好。你知道男孩的名字嗎?」

「不知道。」

「他發生了什麼事?和他一起去,看發生什麼。」

「他認識的一個是囚犯。」

「是朋友?還是親戚?」

「我相信是他父親。」她回答很短。

「你就是那男孩?」

「我不能肯定。」

「你知道他對父親在牢裡有什麼感覺?」

「知道……她很害怕,怕他們會殺他。」

「他父親做了什麼?」

「他從軍隊裡偷了些東西,一些文件什麼的。」

「那男孩並不完全瞭解?」

「是的。他可能再也看不到他父親了。」

「他能去看他父親嗎?」

「不能。」

「他們知道他父親要被關多久嗎?或知道他能不能活?」

「不知道!」她的回答生發著抖。非常沮喪、哀傷。她並沒有提供多少細節,但願然被她目睹、經歷的是困擾。

「你能感覺那個男孩的感覺,」我繼續,「感到那種恐懼和焦慮。是不是?」

「是的。」她再次沉默下來。

「發生了什麼事?往前去。我知道這有困難。但往前去,一定有事情發生了。」

「他父親被處決了。」

「他現在有什麼感覺?」

「他是為從未犯的罪而被處死刑。但他們處決人民根本不需要什麼理由。」

「那男孩一定很難過。」

「我不相信他完全瞭解……發生的這些事。」

「他有別人可以投靠嗎?」

「是的,但他的日子會很艱難。」

「後來那男孩怎麼了?」

「我不知道。他也許會死……」她的聲音很悲傷。她又停了下來,好像在左顧右盼。

「你在看什麼?」

「我看到一雙手……一雙手在白色的什麼東西旁邊。我不知道它是什麼……」她沉默下來,過了幾分鐘。

「你還看到什麼?」我問。

「什麼也沒有……黑暗。」她若不是死了,就是和那個二百年前的烏克蘭男孩失去聯繫。

「你離開了那男孩?」

「是的。」她輕聲說。她在休息。

「你從剛才那一生學到什麼?它為什麼重要?」

「不能草率地審判一個人,得公平對待他,很多人命因為我們草率的判斷而毀了。」

「那男孩的生活因為他父親的判決而痛苦?」

「是的。」她又沉默了。

「你現在看到別人嗎?或聽到什麼?」

「沒有。」再度是簡短的回答,然後沉默。為了某種原因,這個短暫的一生特別的耗費力氣。我指引她休息。

「休息,感覺安寧。你的身體恢復得;你的靈魂在休息……現在覺得好些了嗎?得到休息了?那小男孩的卻過了艱難的一生。不過你現在休息了,你的心會帶你到其他時空……其他記憶中去。你在休息嗎?」

「是的。」我決定進一步引她去失火、父親要她到火場裡拿一件東西的夢。

「我現在有個關於……你父親在夢裡的問題。你可以回想它,那是安全的。你在催眠中,記得嗎?」

「記得。」

「你到屋子裡去拿樣東西。記得嗎?」

「是的……一個金屬盒子。」

「那裡面有什麼重要東西使他叫你回火場裡去?」

「他收集的郵票和硬幣……」她回答。她在催眠中對夢的細節可以記得這麼清楚,和清醒時大相逕庭。催眠是個有力的工具,不但可以走向最遙遠、隱蔽的心智,也提供了更詳盡的記憶。「他的郵票硬幣對他而言很重要嗎?」

「是的。」

「但冒了你的生命危險,只為搶救郵票和硬幣——」

他打斷我,「他不認為是在冒險。」

「他認為這樣安全?」

「是的。」

「那麼,他為什麼不自己去?」

「因為他認為我的動作比較快。」

「我懂了。那麼,對你來說是個風險,是嗎?」

「是的,但他不瞭解這點。」

「這個夢對你還有什麼其他意義?有關你和你父親的關係?」

「我不知道。」

「他似乎不急著逃出起火的房子。」

「沒錯。」

「他為什麼如此悠閒?」

「因為他想逃避事情。」我抓住此刻來解析她的夢。

「是的,這是他的老模式,要你幫他做事,譬如拿那個盒子。我希望他能向你學習。我有個感覺,那火代表時間快沒了,你瞭解這點,他卻不瞭解。當他慢慢踱步,有遣你回去拿東西,你知道得更多……可以教他更多,但他卻並不想學。」

「是的,」她同意道,「他不想學。」

「是的,」她再度同意,而且聲音變得低沉沙啞,「火若是燒掉了我們並不需要的肉體,是沒什麼關係的……」一個靈性大師透露了這個夢完全不同的角度,我驚訝於他的突然插入。

「我們不需要肉體?」

「是的。我們在肉身狀態時會經過許多不同階段;從嬰兒身變成兒童,再由兒童變為成人,由成人邁向老年,為什麼我們不再跨過一步,擺脫成人的身軀進到精神層面?這是我們該做的。我們不會停止成長,當我們進入精神層次,仍繼續在那兒成長,要經歷不同的階段。當我們在靈魂狀態時,肉體已遭焚燬。我們必須經過一個更新階段、一個學習階段,還有決定的階段。我們決定何時回去、回到那裡去,以及為了什麼原因。有些靈魂選擇不再回去,而繼續另一個發展的階段,於是他們就保持靈魂的形式……比那些回去的人稍久些。這些全是成長和學習……持續的成長。肉身只是在塵世上的工具,能永久長存的是我們的靈魂和精神。」

我並不認得他的聲音和風格……一個「新的」靈性大師在說話,吐露重要的訊息。我希望多瞭解一些這個精神領域。

「在肉體狀態下學得較快嗎?有什麼原因讓某些人保持精神狀態、某些人又回到肉身?」

「在精神狀態下學習快得多。但我們選擇什麼是需要學的。如果我們需要回去經歷一場關係,就回去。如果結束了,就繼續在靈魂的形式下,你一樣可以和那些肉體狀態的人接觸。只是看有無必要……是不是有重要事他們非知道不可。」

「怎麼接觸?這些訊息如何傳遞?」

令我驚訝的是凱瑟琳的回答,她的低語變得較快、較肯定。「有時你可以出現在那人面前……」就以你從前的模樣出現。有些時候可以僅做心靈感應。有時訊息會儲蓄難辨,但多半那個人知道所指為何。他們會瞭解,因為那是心靈對心靈的接觸。」

我對凱瑟琳說:「你現在所知的訊息、智慧,是很重要的……為什麼在清醒的時候卻不能傳遞給你?」

「我想我不會懂的。沒有能力去瞭解。」

「那,也許我可以教你瞭解,好讓你不再害怕。」

「是的。」

「你聽到的那些靈性大師,他們說的話和你的很類似。你一定知道很多知識。」每當她在這種狀態,就擁有令我驚訝的智慧。

「是的。」她簡單地答道。

「這是你自己心裡就有的?」

「是他們放進來的。」她仍歸功於那些靈性大師。

「是的,」我說,「那麼我該怎麼傳輸給你,好讓你不再恐懼?」

「你已經做到了。」她輕輕回答。她是對的,她的恐懼已消除。催眠回憶一開始,她的進步就非常迅速。」

「現在你要學的是什麼?這一生對人來說最重要的,能讓你持續進步的課業是什麼?」

「信任。」她很快地回答。她已經知道主要的目的。

「信任?」我重複道,驚訝於她的快速反應。

「是的,我必須學著有信心,也要信任別人。但我沒有,我認為每個人都想害我,這使我對許多不該迴避的人和狀況都刻意疏遠,反而和不該在一起的人共處。」

她在超意識狀態的見解是驚人的,她知道自己的弱點和長處,知道那些範圍需要注意和下功夫,也知道怎麼求進步。唯一的問題是,這些見解需要傳達到她的意識中、應用在生活裡。超意識的洞見是不凡的,但它本身還不足以改變她的生活。

「那些該斷絕的人是誰?」我問。

她停了一下,「我怕傷害會從貝琪……或史都華那裡來……」

「你能避開嗎?」

「不完全能,但可以避掉他們的一些意見。史都華總想把我套牢,而且他一步步成功了。他知道我怕,怕離開他,他就利用這點讓我待在他身邊。」

「貝琪呢?」

「她總是破壞我對人的信心我看到善良時,她就看到邪惡,而且她想把這些種子散佈在我心裡。我在學習信任……我該相信的人,但她讓我滿腹疑慮,這是她的缺點。我不能讓自己照她那種方式想。」

在凱瑟琳的超意識狀態下,她可以看出貝琪和史都華兩人的性格弱點。催眠中的凱瑟琳可以做個絕佳的心理醫師,富同情心,又有正確的直覺。清醒的凱瑟琳並不具備這些特質,至於搭起兩者的橋樑就是我的工作了。她的進步意味著兩者間有了互通,我試著更進一步做搭橋的工作。

「你信任誰?」我問,「想想看。誰是你可信任和學習、並接近的對象?」

「我信任你。」她低語道。這個我知道,但她必須多信任一些日常週遭的人。

「是,你可以信任我。但你也應該接近其他日常生活中的人,他們跟你共處的時間更多。」我要她成為完整而獨立的人,而非依賴我。

「我可以信任我姐姐。不知道還有什麼其他人。我可以信任史都華……但只到某種程度。他真的在乎我,但他有迷惑的地方。在他的迷惑中,會不自覺地傷害到我。」

「是的,這是真的。還有其他你信任的人嗎?」

「是的。」她同意道。

想到未來的訊息不禁令人心中一顫。她對於過去說得如此正確,透過靈性大師,她知道那些特別、秘密的事件。那麼,他們也知道未來嗎?果真如此,我們能分享這未來知識嗎?我心中湧起上千個問題。

「當你像現在這樣和超意識接觸,能否發展直覺領域的能力?你有可能看到未來嗎?」

「是有可能,」她同意,「但我現在看不到。」

「有可能?」

「我相信是的。」

「你做這事不怕嗎?你能進到未來、得到一些不會令你害怕的中立資訊嗎?你看不看得到未來?」

她的回答很簡短,「我看不到。他們不允許的。」我知道她指的是靈性大師。

「他們在你附近嗎?」

「是的。」

「在和你說話嗎?」

「沒有。他們監督一切。」所以,在監督下,她無法偷窺未來的事。也許這樣瞥一眼並不會得到有關個人的訊息,也許這個探險會讓凱瑟琳過於焦慮,也許,是我們尚未準備好怎麼就會這種訊息;總之,我不想勉強她。

「那個以前在你身邊的靈魂,基甸……」

「你想問什麼?」

「他需要什麼?為什麼在你身邊?你認得他嗎?」

「不,不認識。」

「但他保護你免受傷害?」

「是的。」

「靈性大師們……」

「我沒看到他們……」

「有時候他們會給我一些訊息,既能幫你又能幫我的訊息,即使他們沒對你講話。」

這些訊息也能給你嗎?他們能在人心裡放上思想嗎?」

「是的。」

「他們也監督你的回憶?」

「是的。」

「所以這些輪迴的解釋是有目的的……」

「沒錯。」

「……是為你也是為我……為了教導我們,遠離恐懼。」

「溝通的方式有許多種。他們選擇許多人……表示他們的存在。」不論是凱瑟琳聽見的聲音、經歷的通靈現象,或是,她心裡的想法和智慧,目的都是一樣的……為了顯示靈性大師的存在,甚至超過這個,為了幫助我們透過智慧變得如神一般。

「你知道他們為什麼選上你……來做管道?」

「不知道」

這是個有意思的問題,因為清醒時的凱瑟琳連錄音帶都不願聽。「不知道。」她輕聲說。

「這令你害怕嗎?」

「有時候。」

「有些時候則不!」

「對。」

「它可以是一種保證,」我說,「我們現在知道我們是永恆的,就不會害怕死亡了。」

「是的。」她說,停了一會,「我必須學習信任。」她回到此生主要的課題上來,「當值得信任的人告訴我什麼,我該學著相信。」

「當然也有些人信不得。」我加上一句。

「是的,但我搞不清。當我遇上可以信任的人,就得跟自己不肯信任的習慣作戰。」我再次敬佩她的見解時,她沉默了。

「上次我們談到你小時候,在院子裡和馬在一起。記得嗎?你姐姐的婚禮?」

「一點點。」

「那次是否還有更多的訊息?你知道嗎?」

「是的。」

「值得現在回去探尋一下嗎?」

「現在不能回去。一生裡就有好多事情……每一生都有許多可知道的。是的,我們得去探尋,但不是現在。」

於是我轉向她和她父親的惱人關係。「你和你父親的關係是另一個領域,一個在此世深深影響你的因素。」

「是的。」她簡短地回答。

「它是另一個尚待探索的領域,在這段關係裡你有許多可學的。和那個很小即喪父的烏克蘭男孩相比,你並沒有這種不幸,而且,有了父親,許多困難都減輕了……」

「但也更是個負擔,」她做結論道,「思想……思想……」

「什麼思想?」我注意到她到了一個新領域。

「關於麻醉。當你被麻醉時,還可以聽得見嗎?竟然是能聽得見!」她自己回答了自己的問題她現在在低語得很快,變得激動。「你心裡很清楚是怎麼回事。他們在談論我的窒息,談論動喉嚨手術時我窒息的可能性。」

我想起凱瑟琳的聲帶手術,那是在第一次來見我前幾個月的事。她在開刀前就很焦慮,但在恢復室裡更是嚇壞了。搞壞花了幾小時才把她安撫下來。顯然,醫生在開刀時講的話,對她有如晴天霹靂。我回想起在醫學院時的手術實習。我想起當時的閒聊、玩笑、爭論,和外科醫生的勃然大怒。那些病人在潛意識層面會聽到什麼?他們醒來後,思想和情緒會受到多大影響?病人在最重要的恢復初期,那些評語會給他們下面還是負面的動力?有人因為手術時聽到的負面評價而死嗎?他們會因為覺得無望而乾脆放棄?

「你記得他們說些什麼?」我問。

「說他們必須放一根管子下來。等他們把管子抽出後,我的喉嚨可能會腫起來他們以為我聽不到。」

「但你卻聽到了。」

「是的。」經過今天這節催眠後,凱瑟琳對吞嚥或窒息不再害怕了。「那些焦慮……」她繼續道,「以為我會窒息的焦慮」

「你現在覺得沒事了嗎?」

「是的,你可以撫平不安情緒。」

「我能嗎?」

「是的,你能。」

「……他們該小心自己說出口的話。我現在想起來了。他們在我喉嚨裡放了一根管子。後來我沒法跟他們講我的反應。」

「現在你自由了……你聽到他們。」

「是的,我聽到……」她安靜了一、兩分鐘,然後頭開始左右晃動。似乎在聆聽什麼。

「你似乎在接受訊息。知道它們是哪兒來的嗎?我希望靈性大師們出現。」

「有人告訴我……」她含混不清地說。

「有人在對你說話?」

「但他們走了。」我試著叫他們回來。

「能不能請他們回來……幫我們?」

「他們只在想來時才來,不是我能選擇的。」她肯定地回答。

「你控制不了?」

「是的。」

「好吧,」我繼續,「但有關麻醉的訊息對你很重要那就是你害怕窒息的來源。」

「是對你重要而不是我。」凱瑟琳反駁道,她的回答在我腦中反覆迴響。她對窒息的恐懼會痊癒,但這個揭露卻對我更為重要在治療人的是我,她的簡單回答包括了多重意思。我感到如果真的瞭解這些層面,會對人類之間的關係躍進一大步,也許這個幫助比痊癒更好

「為了讓我幫你?」我問。

「是的。你能消滅他們的憾事。你已經在做了……」她在休息中。我們兩人都學到重要的一課。

[/spoiler]
[spoiler title="第六章"]

幾天後,我從一個深沉的夢裡驚醒。突然覺得凱瑟琳的臉在我眼前一閃,比真人大上幾倍。她看來很難過,似乎需要我的幫助。看看鐘,才凌晨三點三十六分。沒有外界的噪音把我吵醒,卡洛在我旁邊睡得正熟,我揮去這個念頭倒下去又睡。

同一天凌晨約三點半,凱瑟琳從噩夢中驚醒:她流著冷汗、心跳加速。她決定以靜坐來鎮定情緒,並想像在我會診室被催眠的情形。她想像我的臉、假裝聽到我聲音,然後漸漸睡去。

凱瑟琳變得愈來愈通靈,顯然我也是。我回想起心理學教授講的在治療關係中「感情轉移」與「相對感情轉移」的互動。感情轉移是病人對治療者所代表的過去某個人投射的感情、思想、願望。相對感情轉移則是相反,是治療者無意識間對病人的情緒互動。但這個凌晨三點半的互通卻不屬於再現兩者。它算是一種精神感應吧。不知怎地,催眠打開了這個管道,或者是,靈性大師和守護者及其他人造成這次感應,總之,我並不驚訝。

這次會診中,凱瑟琳很快進入催眠狀況。她迅速緊張起來,「我看到一大片雲……很嚇人。」她的呼吸很急促。

「還在那兒嗎?」

「我不知道。它來得快也去得快……就在山頂上。」她仍然很緊張,呼吸沉重。我怕她是見到了核爆。她會看到未來嗎?

「你看到那座山嗎?像不像爆炸後的樣子?」

「我不知道。」

「為什麼會令你害怕?」

「太突然了,就在那裡。有好多煙,很嗆人。又很大,在一段距離外……」

「你是安全的。能更接近一點嗎?」

「我不想再靠近了!」她斷然地回答。她如此堅拒倒是不常見的。

「你為什麼這麼怕?」我再問。

「我想那是一種化學物質或什麼的。在它周圍就很難呼吸。」她困難地吸著氣。

「像一種氣體嗎?是從山裡冒出來的……像火山嗎?」

「我想是的。它像一朵大香菇。對,就是這樣……但是白色的。」

「不是爆炸?核煤碳爆之類的?」她停下來一會,才繼續。

「是……火山爆發一類的。很嚇人、很難呼吸,空氣裡都是灰塵。我不想待在這兒。」她的呼吸漸漸恢復到平常的和緩速度,她離開了那個駭人的現場。

「現在較容易呼吸了吧?」

「是的。」

「好。現在你看到什麼?」

「沒什麼……我看到一條項鏈,在某人脖子上的一條項鏈。藍色的……是銀鏈,掛有一顆藍色寶石,周圍還有更小的寶石。」

「藍寶石上有什麼嗎?」

「不,它是透明的,你可以看穿它。那名女士有黑髮,戴了一頂藍帽……帽上有很長的羽毛,衣服是天鵝絨的。」

「你認得這女士嗎?」

「不。」

「你在那兒,或你就是那女士。」

「我不知道。」

「不過你看到她?」

「是的。我不是那女士。」

「她多大年紀?」

「四十幾歲。不過看起來比實際年齡老。」

「她手上在做什麼事?」

「沒什麼,只是站在桌子旁邊。桌上有一個香水瓶。是白底綠花的圖案。另外還有一把刷子、一把銀把手的梳子。」我對她的細節描述感到驚訝。

「這是她的房間還是一間商店?」

「是她的房間。有一張四個床柱的床,是棕色的。桌上還有個水罐。」

「水罐?」

「是的。房間裡沒有掛畫,但有好看的窗簾。」

「還有別人在附近嗎?」

「沒有。」

「這名女士和你的關係是什麼?」

「我服侍她。」她再度以僕人身份出現。

「你在她手下很久了嗎?」

「不……只有幾個月。」

「好喜歡那條項鏈嗎?」

「是的。她戴起來很高雅。」

「你有沒有戴過那條項鏈?」

「沒有。」她的回答很簡短,所以需要我主動發問來獲得基本資料。她令我想起自己尚未到青少年期的兒子。

「你現在多大?」

「大概十三、四歲……」同樣年紀。

「你為什麼離開了家人?」我問。

「我沒有離開家人,」她改正我的話,「我只是在這裡工作。」

「我懂了。工作完了你就回去?」

「是的。」她的答案只留下極少的探索空間。

「他們住在附近嗎?」

「很近……我們很窮。所以必須工作……當傭人。」

「你知道那女士的名字嗎?」

「貝玲達。」

「她待你好嗎?」

「好。」

「你工作很累嗎?」

「並不很累。」對青少年問話向來不是簡單的事,即使在前世中也一樣,幸好我受過訓練。

「好。你現在還看到她嗎?」

「沒有。」

「你現在在哪裡?」

「另一個房間。有張鋪了黑布的桌子……流蘇一直垂到桌腳。我聞到好多草藥……還有很重的香水味。」

「是你女主人的嗎?她不是不用很多香水?」

「這是誰的房間?」

「一個黑黑的女士。」

「黑黑的?你看得到她嗎?」

「她頭上纏了一圈又一圈的布,」凱瑟琳小聲說,「而且又老又皺。」

「你跟她的關係是什麼?」

「我剛剛來這裡看她。」

「為什麼?」

「看她玩牌。」我直覺地知道她來這個房間算命。這真是個有趣的對照;凱瑟琳和我在這裡進行心靈上的探險,在她的前世間來來回回探尋,但是,也許兩百年前,她去找過算命師預卜她的未來。我知道現世中的凱瑟琳並沒有找人算過命,對四色牌也不清楚;這些事令她害怕。

「她可以看出你的命運嗎?」我問。

「她看得見許多事。」

「要問她問題嗎?你想知道什麼?」

「想知道……我結婚的對象。」

「她拿牌算了以後,跟你說什麼?」

「我的牌裡有幾張是……有桿子的。桿子和花……但還有桿子、箭和某種線條。另外一張牌有聖盃……我看到一張男人拿盾的牌。她說我會結婚,但不是和這個人……其他我就看不到了。」

「你看得到這位女士嗎?」

「我看到一些硬幣。」

「你仍和她在一起,或到了別地方?」

「和她在一起。」

「那些硬幣看起來是什麼樣子?」

「它們是金的,邊緣不太平滑,是方型的。有一面是皇冠。」

「看看硬幣上有沒有年份。」

「一些外國字,」她回答:「X和I湊成的。」

「你知道是哪一年嗎?」

「一七……什麼的。我不知道。」她又沉默下來。」

「這個算命師為什麼對你重要?」

「我不知道……」

「她算的後來實現了嗎?」

「……但她走了,」凱瑟琳低語道,「走了。我不知道。」

「你現在看到什麼?」

「什麼也沒有。」

「沒有?」我很訝異,她會在哪裡?「你知道自己的名字嗎?」我問,想把她的各個線索拼湊起來。

「我已經離開那裡了。」她已經離開那世,在休息了。現在她已能靠自己做到,不需要再經歷一次死亡。我們等了幾分鐘。這一生並沒有很重大的事,她只記得一些特殊的細節,及去找算命仙的經過。

「你現在看到任何東西嗎?」我再問。

「沒有。」她輕聲說。

「你在休息嗎?」

「是的……不同顏色的珠寶……」

「珠寶?」

「是的,它們事實上是光線,但看起來像珠寶……」

「還有什麼?」我問。

「我只是……」她停下來,然後聲音變得大而肯定,「周圍有許多話語和思想飛來飛去……是關於共存與和諧……事物的平衡。」我知道靈性大師就在附近。

「是的,」我鼓勵她繼續,「我想要知道這些事情。你能告訴我嗎?」

「目前它們只是一些句子。」她回答。

「共存與和諧。」我提醒她。當她回答時,是靈性大師的聲音,再聽到他開口令我一驚。

「是的,」他回答道,「任何事都必須有所平衡。大自然是平衡的,飛禽走獸和諧地生活著。人類卻還沒有學會,他們不斷在摧毀自己。他們做的事缺乏和諧,也沒有計劃。自然就不一樣了,自然是平衡的。自然是活力和生命……及修養生息。人類只知破壞;他們破壞自然,也摧毀其他人,最後他們會毀掉自己。」

這是個可怕的預測。世界持續在混亂與動盪中,但我希望這天不會太早來到。「這什麼時候會發生?」我問。

「會比他們想的還快發生。自然會存活下來、植物會存活下來,但我們不會。」

「我們能做什麼來防止這種毀滅嗎?」

「不能,凡事都必須平衡……」

「這個毀滅會在我們有生之年發生嗎?我們能改變它嗎?」

「不會在我們有生之年。它來時我們已在另一個空間、另一個層次,但我們會看到。」

「難道沒有辦法可以教導人類嗎?」我繼續尋找出路,求取萬分之一的可能性。

「要在另一個層次才能做到,我們會從中得到教訓。」

我往光明面看,「那麼,我們的靈魂會在不同的地方獲得進步。」

「是的。我們不會再到……這裡。將來就知道了。」

「是的,」我贊同道,「我需要告訴這些人,但不知怎樣他們才聽得進去。是真的有方法,還是他們必須自己學?」

「你不可能讓每一個人知道。要阻止毀滅,就得每個人身體力行,但你不可能做到這點。毀滅時阻止不了的,他們會學到的。當他們進步到某一個階段,就會學到這件事。會有和平的,但不是在此,不是在這度空間。」

「最後會有和平?」

「是的,在另一個層次。」

「但是,似乎還很遠,」我抱怨道,「現在人們似乎還很鄙陋……貪婪、渴望權力、野心勃勃。他們忘了愛和瞭解,以及知識,還有很多事待學習。」

「是的。」

「我能寫下什麼來幫助這些人嗎?有沒有什麼辦法?」

「你知道方法的,用不著我們告訴你。但它沒有效,因為最後我們都會到達同一層次,那時他們就知道了。大家都是一樣的,我們並不比其他的人偉大,所有這些不過是課業……還有懲罰。」

「是的。」我同意。這一課可真是深奧,我需要時間慢慢消化。凱瑟琳沉默了。我們等著,她休息,我咀嚼著剛才一個鐘頭裡的聽聞。最後,她打破沉默。

「那些五光十色離開了,」她輕聲說。

「那些聲音、句子也是?」

「是的,我現在什麼也沒看到。」她停下時,頭開始左右搖擺。「有個靈魂……在看。」

「在看你?」

「是的。」

「你認得它嗎?」

「我不能確定……我想可能是愛德華。」愛德華在去年過世了。他似乎真的無所不在,總環繞在她身邊。

「那個靈魂看來是什麼樣子?」

「不,他只是看。」

「他在聽我所說的話嗎?」

「是的,」她小聲說,「但他現在走了。他只是來看看我是否安然無恙。」我想起守護天使這個普遍的觀念。看來,愛德華相當接近這個角色,而凱瑟琳也提過守護的精靈,我懷疑我們小時候的「神話」有多少是根植於模糊的過去記憶。

我也揣測著靈魂間的層級,有關誰做守護者,誰成為靈性大師,或是兩者都不是,只是學習。應該有基於智慧和知識的評分,看離最終成為類似神的目標還差多遠。這是好幾世紀以來,神學家傾心追求的目標,他們對此神聖的結合瞥見過一眼。我並沒有這種親身經驗,但透過凱瑟琳的管道,卻似乎有了最佳的觀點。

愛德華走了,凱瑟琳也安靜不語。她的臉上現出安詳寧靜的表情。她擁有的是何等的天賦——能夠看穿生命、看穿死亡,和「神袛們」說話,分享他們的智慧。我們在吃知識樹的蘋果,只是它不再被禁吃,我懷疑還剩下多少顆蘋果。

卡洛的母親米奈,癌細胞由乳房擴散到骨頭和肝,已在生命的最後階段。這個過程已拖了四年,現在用化學治療也緩不下來。她是個勇敢的女人,堅忍地承受這種磨人痛苦。但我知道病情正加速惡化,她的終點不遠了。

而凱瑟琳的會診同時進行著,我把這份經驗和啟示與米奈分享。我有點驚訝,她這樣一個實際的生意人,卻頗能接受,並想知道更多。我給她一些書讀,她消化得非常快。她為我和卡洛安排了一次猶太教神秘哲學的課。在猶太神秘文學裡,輪迴和「中間」狀態是基本的要旨,不過現代猶太人多不瞭解這一點。米奈的軀體衰弱的同時,精神卻堅強了。她對死亡的恐懼減輕了許多,開始期待和所愛的丈夫班重新結合。她相信靈魂的不朽,這使她能忍受這些痛苦。她掙扎著活下來,等著看另一個外孫的出生——她女兒唐娜的第一個孩子。她來到醫院做治療時和凱瑟琳見過一面,聊得很投機,凱瑟琳的誠懇和誠實使米奈確信來生真的存在。

死前一周,米奈決定住進醫院,由護士照顧她。唐娜、她丈夫和六周大的女兒也來醫院和她道別。我們也幾乎不間斷地有人待在她身邊。米奈過世的前一天晚上六點,我和卡洛才剛從醫院到家,卻都有種強烈的衝動想回去。接下來的六、七個鐘頭,充滿了安寧和一種超越的精神力量。米奈雖然呼吸很費力,但不再痛苦。我們談到她大約過渡到中間狀態,看到亮光。她回顧自己的一生,大多數時候默不作聲,並盡力接受負面的部分。她似乎知道這個過程不完,她是沒有辦法走的。她在等待一個特定的時間才謝世,那時是清晨,她有點等不及希望時候早點到來。米奈是我第一個用這種態度引導死前階段的人,她的信心增強,我們的哀傷也因這整個經驗而獲得緩解。

我發現自己治療病人的能力大為增加,不僅是在恐懼或焦慮方面,關於生死、哀愁方面的咨詢尤有進步。我會直覺地知道哪裡出了問題、治療方向該朝哪裡著手;我能夠傳達平安、寧靜、希望等種種感情。米奈死後,許多其他走向人生終點或遭喪親之痛的人,都跑來找我求助。有些人對凱瑟琳或一些死後生命的事沒有心理準備,但即使不說出這些事,我發現,我同樣可以傳達類似訊息;一種聲調、一個眼神、對他們心情的瞭解或是一句話——都可以傳導一種希望、傳導被遺忘的精神性和共享的人性,甚至更多。對於那些願意接受更多的人,我會建議他們讀一些書或是分享凱瑟琳的經驗,這些對他們都有如打開一扇窗子,獲得新生的力量。

我非常相信心理治療師必須有開放的心靈。以凱瑟琳的例子而言,一些科學性的紀錄工作該進行,而實驗性的工作更該展開。心理治療師該考慮死後生命的可能性,並融入他們的咨詢中。他們不一定要用催眠回憶法,但應該保持心靈的開放,和病人分享他們的知識,並且不要不相信病人的經驗。

人類現正被死亡威脅著。艾滋病、核戰、恐怖主義、疾病,和許多其他災難日夜威脅著我們,許多青少年認為他們活不過二十歲,這真令人難以置信,但也反映了我們社會的巨大壓力。

以個人的層面而言,米奈對凱瑟琳訊息的反應是令人振奮的。她的精神變強了,而且在巨大的肉體痛苦中仍感到希望。但這訊息是給我們大家的,不只是瀕死的人,我們也有希望。我們需要更多的臨床醫師和科學家報道其他類似凱瑟琳的案例,以肯定並擴散這些訊息,答案就在那裡——我們是不朽的,我們會永遠在一起。
[/spoiler]


[spoiler title="第七章"]

自第一次催眠以來,已過了三個半月。凱瑟琳的症狀不僅真的消失了,還得到比痊癒更多的進步。她散發出的光芒,周圍有一種平安的能量。人們自然的被她吸引。她在醫院餐廳吃早餐時,不論男女同事都想過去跟她同一桌。「你看起來好美,我只是想告訴你這個。」他們會這麼說。她像個漁夫,用一條看不見的釣線把大家拉過來。而她以前在同一個餐廳吃了幾年,卻沒有人注意到。

如同往常,她在我的光線柔和的診療室裡很快進入催眠狀態,一頭金髮散在枕頭上。「我看到一幢建築……石頭砌起來起來的。頂上還有尖的裝飾。這裡是山區。很濕……外面很濕。我看到一輛馬車從……前面過去。車上有乾草、稻草一類的,給畜牲吃的食料。還有一些男人。他們拿著種布條,綁在桿子上隨風飛的布條。顏色很鮮艷。我聽到他們談摩爾人……摩爾人。還有一個戰爭。他們頭上有uzhong……金屬做的頭盔。年代是一四八三年。有什麼關於丹麥人的。我們是更丹麥人打嗎?有一個戰爭在進行。」

「你在那兒嗎?」我問。「我沒看到那些場面」,她輕輕地回答,「我只看到馬車,雙輪的,後面可載貨。馬車是沒有頂的;邊邊用木板釘起來。我看到……他們戴一種金屬項鏈……很重的樣子,做成十字架形。是什麼聖者的節慶……我看到劍。他們有種刀或劍……很重、很純。在為戰鬥預備著。」

「看能否找到你自己,」我引導著,「看看周圍。也許你是個士兵。從某地看著他們。」

「我不是士兵。」她對這點很肯定。

「看看周圍。」

「我帶來一些補給品。這裡是個村子。」她靜下來。

「你現在看到什麼?」

「我看到一個布條,某種布條。是紅白色的……白底上有個紅色十字。」

「這是你們的旗子嗎?」我問。

「是國王軍隊的旗幟。」她回答。

「是你這邊的國王?」

「是的。」

「你知道國王的名字嗎?」

「我沒聽人提起。他不在這裡。」

「能不能看到你穿什麼衣服?往下看,說說你穿什麼樣子。」

「某種皮的上衣……裡面是件很粗的襯衫。皮上衣……是短的。某種動物皮的鞋子……不是鞋子,更像靴子。沒有人和我講話。」

「我知道。你的頭髮是什麼顏色?」

「淡金色,但我老了,所以還有些灰髮。」

「你對這場戰爭有什麼感覺?」

「它已成了我的生活方式。我在上次的小衛突裡失去一個孩子。」

「一個兒子?」

「是的。」她很悲傷。

「還剩下誰?家中還有什麼人?」

「我太太……和我女兒。」

「你兒子叫什麼名字?」

「我不知道他名字。但我記得他。我看到我妻子。」凱瑟琳做過男人,也做個女人。此生雖然沒有孩子,但前世卻養育過不少兒女。

「你妻子看起來是什麼樣子?」

「她很疲倦,很疲倦。她老了。我們有些山羊。」

「你女兒還和你們住在一起嗎?」

「不,她結婚,搬走了。」

「那麼,就你和太太二個人?」

「是的。」

「你妻子還好吧?」

「是的。你們失去了兒子。你想他嗎?」

「是的。」她僅如此回答,但哀傷之情顯入無遺。

「你是個農夫嗎?」我改變話題。

「是的。我種小麥……像小麥的東西。」

「你一生中,國家都遭遇戰爭、發生許多悲劇嗎?」

「是的。」

「但你活到這麼大年紀。」

「他們是在村外打,沒有打到村裡來。」她解釋道,「他們必須……翻山越嶺去打仗。」

「你知道這裡的地名?」

「我沒有看到,不過指示牌上有名字,我看不到。」

「現在是什麼宗教的日子嗎?你看到士兵們都佩著十字架。」

「對他們而言是,對我不是。」

「你除了妻子和女兒,還有別的家人嗎?」

「沒有。」

「你的父母已過世了?」

「是的。」

「兄弟姐妹呢?」

「我有一個姐姐還活著。但我不認識她。」她指的是在現實中不認識。

「好。看看你是否能在村裡或家裡認出其他人?」如果人們真會結群地轉世,她很有可能會認出別的在此世中重要的人。

「我看到一張石桌……我看到碗。」

「是在你家嗎?」

「是的。我看呆一種玉米做的……黃色的東西。我們正在吃……」

「好的,」我試著加快速的,「這對你是很辛苦的一生,很艱難的日子。你現在在想什麼?」

「馬匹。」她小聲地說。

「你有養馬?還是別人的?」

「不,是士兵的……他們中一些人騎馬,但大部分是用走路。那些也不是馬,是驢或什麼體型比馬小的牲口。他們大而且很野。」

「現在把時間往前推,」我指引道,「你很老了。試著到你一生最後一天。」

「但我並沒有很老。」她反擊道。她在前始終不太可能接受暗示,發生什麼就是什麼。我不能揮去她真實的記憶,也不能讓她改變發生過的細節。

「這生裡面有什麼大事嗎?」我問,改變策略,「有什麼重要的事讓我們知道?」

「沒有。」她不帶感情地回答。

「那麼,往前去。讓我們瞭解你需要的是什麼。你知道嗎?」

「不知道。我還在這兒。」

「是的,我知道。你看見什麼嗎?」過了一兩分鐘她才回答。

「我浮起來。」她輕聲地說。

「你已經離開老人的軀體?」

「是的,我浮起來了。」她又進入不具肉身的狀態。

「現在你知道要學的是什麼了嗎?你又過完了辛苦的一生。」

「我不知道。我只是浮起來。」

「好的。休息吧……」又過了沉默的一陣子。然後她似乎在聽什麼。突然她開口啊,聲音大而深沉。這不是凱瑟琳.

「總共有七個平面,每一平面都由許多層次組成,其中一個平面是記憶。在那個平面裡你得以收集思想、想法,得以觀看剛才過去的一生。那些在較高層次的人可以看到歷史,他們可以回味無窮頭來教我們學到的歷史,但我們在較低層次的人只能看到自己剛過完的一生。」

「我們有必須償還的債;要是沒有還完,就得繼續把這些債帶到下一世去……好讓它們還掉,你在還債中能得到進步。有些靈魂進步得比其他快些,當你在肉體狀態清完了債務,你就必須回到記憶的平面,等待你所欠的那個靈魂來見你。當你們兩人能同時回到肉體狀態時,才能再轉世。但是由你決定何時回去,以及回去後該如何做。你不會記得其他的前世……只會記得剛過完的這一生。只有高層次的靈魂—那些聖者—才能記起歷史和過去的事件,來幫助我們,教我們該怎樣做。」

「在我們回到肉身前需要經過七個平面。其中之一,是過渡的平面。我們在其間等待。在這個平面裡,決定你會帶著什麼回到下一世。我們都會有一個……主要的特性。可能是貪慾、可能是色慾,不過一旦決定,你就需要對那些人償債,而且要在那生中,克服這個特性。如果沒有做到,將來還要帶著這個特性,外加另一個,到下一世中,負擔就更重了。你過完的每一生若沒有償清這些債,下一生就變得更難;要是完成了,就會有容易的來世。所以待於你自己選擇會過什麼樣的人生。在每個階段,自己過的生活是自己選的、要自己負責。」凱瑟琳接著沉默下來。

這些話顯然不是出自一個靈性大師。他自稱為「我們低層次的」,有別於那些在較高層次的靈魂——「聖者」。但是他傳達的訊息很清楚,也很實際。我猜想著其他五個平面的和它們的特色。不知「更新」的階段是否為其中之一?而學習階段與決定階段呢?所有從靈魂狀態不同層次來的訊息,都具有一致性,只是傳達的風格殊異,用詞、語法不同;但是內容維持一貫。我逐漸得到一套有系統的靈魂學,這個學說講的是愛與希望、信心與善意。它檢視了德行與罪愆、對別人與自己的債務。它包括了前世和一生與一生間的靈魂層面。說的是靈魂透過和諧與平衡得到的進化,進化至與神相連的狂喜境界。

此外也有許多實用的建議:耐性與等待的價值;自然界的平衡所蘊含的智慧;恐懼的消除,尤其是對於死亡的恐懼;需要學習信任與寬恕;不要去評判別人,或中止他人的生命,直覺能力的累積與應用;以及,也許是最重要的,「我們是永生的」這不可動搖的概念。我們超越生與死,超越時間與空間我們就是神,他們就是我們。

「我在飄浮。」凱瑟琳低語。

「你現在是在哪一個狀態?」我問。

「沒有…….只是浮著……愛德華欠我的一些……他欠我一些……」

「你知道他欠你什麼?」

「不知道……他欠我一些訊息。他有些事要告訴我,也許是關於我妹妹的小孩子。」

「你妹妹的孩子?」

「是的……一個女孩。名字叫史黛法妮。」

「史黛法妮?你需要知道她什麼?」

「我要知道怎麼跟她聯繫。」她回答。以前凱瑟琳從未對我提過這個外甥女。

「你和她很親近嗎?」我問。

「不,但她想找到他們。」

「我妹妹和她丈夫。而她唯一的路就是透過我;我是管道。她父親是個醫生;在費爾蒙南部開業。訊息會在需要時會傳到我這裡。」

我後來知道凱瑟琳的妹妹和她未婚夫,決定領養一個女嬰。他們當時還不滿二十歲,也沒有結婚。領養是透過教會辦的。那次之後並沒有什麼相關的消息。

「是的,」我同意道,「當時機來臨。」

「對,那時他就會告訴我。」

「他還必須告訴你其他什麼消息?」

「我不知道,不過他有事情要告訴我。而且他欠我什麼東西……是什麼我不知道。反正他欠我的。」她靜下來。

「你累了嗎?」我問。

「我看到一個馬鞍,」她輕聲回答;「靠在牆上。一個馬鞍……我看到小房子外面的一塊毯子。」

「是個馬廊嗎?」

「他們在那裡養馬。有好多馬。」

「你還看到什麼?」

「我看到很多樹——上面有黃花。我爸爸在那兒。他在照顧馬。」我瞭解到在跟一個小孩說話。

「他長的什麼樣子?」

「他很高大,有灰髮。」

「看得到你自己嗎?」

「我是個小孩,小女孩。」

「這些馬是你爸爸的,還是他只是照管他們?」

「他只是照管他們。我們住在附近。」

「你喜歡嗎?」

「是的。」

「有一匹最喜歡的嗎?」

「有。就是我的馬。他叫愛波。」我想起她叫曼蒂的那世,也有一匹叫愛波的馬。她又回到這一世來嗎?也許是從另一個角度。

「愛波……好的。你爸爸讓你騎愛波嗎?」

「不,但我可以餵他吃東西。他用來拉主人的貨車和外出的四輪馬車。他很大,腿很長。要是你不小心,會被他踢倒。」

「還有誰和你在一起?」

「我媽媽在這裡。還有一個姐姐……沒有看到其他人了。」

「你現在看到什麼?」

「我只看到馬。」

「這是一段快樂時光吧!」

「是的。我喜歡馬廊的味道。」她特別指出在馬廊裡的特定時間。

「你聞到馬的味道?」

「是的。」

「還有乾草?」

「是的……他們的臉好軟。這裡也有狗……黑狗,還有貓,好多動物。狗是打獵時用的。當他們要去獵鳥,就會把狗帶去。」

「你發生了什麼事?」

「沒有。」我的問題太模糊。

「你在農場上長大的?」

「是的。那個照顧馬的人,」她頓了一下,「她並非我真正的父親。」我搞迷糊了。

「他不是你真正的父親?」

「我不知道,他……不是我真的父親。但是他對待我如同父親。他是我繼父,對我很好,有雙綠色的眼珠。」

「看看他的眼睛,那雙綠眼珠的眼睛—看你是否認得他。他對你很好,他愛你。」

「他是我祖父,我祖父。他非常愛我們。我祖父非常愛我們。他以前總是帶我們出動我們到他喝酒的地方去,我們可以喝汽水。他喜歡我們。」我的問題使她跳出那世,而進到觀察、超意識狀態,她在看凱瑟琳現在的這一生,以及和祖父的關係。

「你仍然想念他?」我問。

「是的。」她輕輕回答。

「不過你看到他以前也和你在一起。」我解釋著,想減輕她的傷痛。

「他對我們很好。他愛我們,從來不對我們大吼大叫。他會給我們零用錢,到哪裡都帶著我們。他喜歡這樣。但他死了。」

「是的,但是你會和他重逢,你知道的。」

「是的。我以前也和他一起過。他不像我父親那樣。他們非常不同。」

「為什麼一個如此愛你、善待你,另一個卻不一樣?」

「因為他學到了。他已償還所欠的。而我父親卻沒有。他不瞭解……他得再來一次。」

「是的。」我同意道,「他必須學會愛、養育。」

「對的。」她回答。

「要是他們不瞭解這點,」我加上,「就會把小孩當做財產,而不是該愛的人。」

「是的。」她同意。

「你父親仍然得學這點。」

「沒錯。」

「你祖父已經瞭解了……」

「我知道,」她打斷說:「我們在肉體狀態時有好多階段要渡過……就像演化的階段。從嬰兒到幼兒,再來是兒童。在到達目標前有這麼遠的路要走。肉體形式的階段是辛苦的。到了靈魂狀態就輕鬆了,只需要等待、休息。現在是辛苦的階段。」

「在靈魂狀態有多少階段?」

「七個。」她回答。

「是些什麼?」我問,想再肯定一下不久前提到的那二個階段。

「我只知道兩個,」她解釋道,「過渡階段和回憶階段。」

「那也是我聽過的兩個階段。」

「我們以後會知道其他的。」

「你和我同時學了這個,」我說,「今天我們學到欠與債這件事,是非常重要的。」

「我會刻該記得的。」她加上迷樣的一句。

「你會記得這些階段嗎?」我問。

「不,它們對我並不重要,而是對你重要。」我以前也聽過這句話。說這些似乎不只是為了我,或是為了可以幫助她。但是,我不太能探測更大的目的是什麼。

「你似乎好多了。」我繼續說,「你學了這麼多。」

「是的。」她同意。

「為什麼現在大家這麼受你吸引,向你靠近?」

「因為我已從許多恐懼裡解放出來,而且能幫助他們。大概他們也感受到這個。」

「你能處理得來嗎?」

「可以,」其實是沒問題的。「我不害怕。」她又加上一句。

「很好,我會幫你的。」

「我知道。」她回答,「你是我的老師。」

凱瑟琳不再有沮喪的症狀,甚至比一般人更健康。她的前世回憶現在開始重複,我知道我們已趨向一個終點,只是這個秋日她再度進入催眠狀態時,我不知道五個月後的下一次會是最後一次。

「我看到一些雕刻,」她開始進入狀態,「其中一些是金子做的。我看到泥巴。人們在做罐子。是紅色的……他們用了一些紅色的材料。我看到一棟棕色的建築,就是我們所在的地方。」

「你在建築裡面或是它附近?」

「在裡面。我們在做不同的東西。」

「你工作時看得到自己嗎?」我問,「描述一下,你穿什麼衣服?看起來什麼樣子?」

「我穿了一件……長長的、紅色的袍子。我穿的鞋子很奇怪,像涼鞋。我是棕髮。我正在做某種雕像。是……一個男人的雕像。他手上拿了根細棍子……教鞭。其他人在做……金屬的東西。」

「這裡是一家工廠嗎?」

「這只是一棟房子,用石頭疬的房子。」

「你在做的那個雕像,手上拿了棍子的男人雕像,你知道他是誰嗎?」

「不知道,就是個男人。他照顧牛群……母牛。這裡有很多雕像。我們只知道它們的樣子。材料很有趣,很難做。不斷有碎屑掉下來。」

「你知道這種材料叫什麼?」

「不知道。它是紅的,紅土一類。」

「這些雕像做好之後呢?」

「會拿去賣掉。有些拿去市場賣有些送給不同的貴族。只有做工最細的那些會送給貴族人家。剩下的就去賣掉。」

「你和這些貴族打過交道嗎?」

「沒有。」

「這是你的工作?」

「是的。」

「喜歡嗎?」

「喜歡。」

「你做了很久嗎?」

「沒有。」

「很會做嗎?」

「並不很會。」

「需要更多經驗嗎?」

「是的,我只是在學。」

「我瞭解了。你和家人一起住?」

「我不知道,不過我看到棕色的盒子。」

「棕色的盒子?」我重複。

「它們只有小小的開口,我們把雕像放在裡面。盒子是木頭做的。」

「雕像有什麼作用?」

「是宗教上的。」她回答。

「有什麼相關?」

「這些雕像是許多神像、護法之類的。人們很怕他們。這裡還做很多其他東西。譬如棋盤,有孔的棋盤。上面插動物頭形狀的棋子。」

「你還看到什麼?」

「這裡很熱,又熱,灰塵又多……很多沙。」

「附近有水嗎?」

「有,是從山上來的。」這一生聽起來很熟悉。

「這裡的人害怕嗎?」我探詢道,「他們迷不迷信?」

「害怕,」她回答,「每個人都怕,我也怕。我們必須保護自己。否則會生病。」

「什麼樣的病?」

「會讓人死掉的病。好多人都奄奄一息。」

「從水裡來的病?」我詢問。

「是的。天氣很干……很熱,因為神很生氣,在懲罰我們。」她回到用單寧酸的那一世。我想起了恐懼的宗教,奧塞瑞斯和海瑟的宗教。

「為什麼神會生氣?」我問,已經知道答案。

「因為我們不遵守律法。他們很生氣。」

「你們違背了什麼律法?」

「貴族所制定的律法。」

「要怎樣才能取悅神?」

「必須佩帶一些東西。有些人掛在脖子上。那樣可以驅邪。」

「有一個人們特別怕的神嗎?」

「所有的神我們都怕。」

「你知道任一個神的名字?」

「我不知道名字,只看到他們。有一個是人身動物頭。另一個看起來像太陽。還有一個像鳥,是黑色的。他們的脖子上有一圈繩子。」

「你在這場災難裡倖存下來了?」

「是的,我沒死。」

「但是你的家人死了。」我記得這段。

「是的……我父親死了。我母親很好。」

「你兄弟呢?」

「我哥哥……他死了。」她記起來。

「你為什麼能活下來?有什麼特別的地方?還是你做了什麼措施?」

「沒有。」她回答,然後改變了焦點,「我看到裝油的容器。」

「那是什麼?」

「一種白白的東西,幾乎像大理石。那是……雪花石膏……做盛盤……他們放了油在裡面。是用來做塗油儀式的……」

「由教士來做的?」我問。

「是的。」

「你的職責是什麼?你也幫忙塗油?」

「不,我負責做雕像。」

「這裡還是那棟棕色建築?」

「不……是廟裡。」她不知為了什麼原因顯得很難過。

「你出了什麼問題嗎?」

「有人在廟裡做了觸怒神的事情。我不知道是誰」

「是你嗎?」

「不是……我剛看到教士。他們在準備某種祭品、某種動物……是一隻羔羊。教士都是光頭。上面一點毛髮也沒有,也沒有鬍子……」她沉默下來,過了幾分鐘。突然間她變得警覺,像在聽什麼。當她開口,聲音是低沉的,是一個靈性大師。

「在這個層次,有些靈魂可以向仍在肉體狀態的人顯現。只有當靈魂有什麼未了的約定……才可以回到肉身去。在這個層次,靈魂與肉體是可以做互通的,但其他層次不行……在這裡你可以運用通靈能力和肉體狀態的人溝通。有很多方法可以做到這點。有些能讓人們看到靈魂顯現,有些則可以用感應力移動物體。只有那些有需要的靈魂才來這個層次,像是有什麼未定的約定,就可以來此做某種程度的溝通。或是生命遭到突然的中斷,也是來這個層次的理由。很多人來這裡的原因,只是因為能看到塵世的人,並和他們很接近。但不是每個人都選擇要有所溝通。對某些人而言,這可能太嚇人了。」凱瑟琳靜下來,似乎在休息。她開口輕聲地說話。

「我看到亮光。」

「亮光會給你能量嗎?」我問。

「就像重新開始一樣,它是重生的力量。」

「在肉體狀態的人如何感受這種能量?有沒有方法使他們也充充電?」

「用他們的心。」她輕輕地回答。

「但要怎麼達到這種狀態?」

「必須在一個非常放鬆的狀態。透過光就能達到……恢復。如果你很放鬆,就不會再消耗能量,而是能恢復。在睡眠時人就得到恢復。」她目前在超意識狀態,我決定進一步詢問。

「你重生過幾次?」我問,「都是在這個環境嗎?我指,都在地球嗎?或是還有別處?」

「還有別處。」

「你還去了其他什麼層次、什麼地方?」

「我還沒有結束必須在此完成的課業。在沒經歷完所有生命以前,不能再朝前進,而我還沒有經歷完。還有好多世……好多約定和債務未償完。」

「但你一直在進步呀!」我觀察是如此。

「我們一直在進步。」

「你在地球上經歷過幾世了?」

「八十六世。」

「是的。」

「你全記得嗎?」

「當它對我重要時,會全部記起來的。」我們經驗了十到十二世的片段或重點,近來不斷重複。顯然,她不需要記起其他七十五次左右的前生。她的確有了顯著的進步,至少在我的看法是如此。她在這裡得到的進步,也許不是靠著回憶前世。將來的進步,甚至也不是靠我的幫助。她又開始輕聲低語了。

「有些人用迷幻藥接近這個不具肉身的狀態,但他們並不瞭解自己所經歷的是什麼。」我並沒有問到迷幻藥的事。凱瑟琳在分享她所知道的事,不論我有沒有特別問到。

「你不能用你的通靈能力讓自己更進步嗎??」我問,「你似乎愈來愈行了。」

「是的,」她同意道,「它很重要但在這裡則不像其他層次那麼重要。那是演化和成長的一部分。」

「對你和對我都重要?」

「對每個人都重要。」她回答。

「我們要怎麼發展這種才能?」

「從關係中發展。有些較有能力的會帶著更多訊息回來。他們會找那些需要發展的人,幫助他們。」她進入一長段休息中。離開超意識狀態後,她進入另一生。

「我看到海洋。我看到一棟在海邊的房子。是白色的。船在港口來來去去。我可以聞到海水的味道。」

「你在那兒?」

「是的。」

「那房子看上去怎麼樣?」

「它很小。上面有尖塔……還有個小窗可以看到海。裡面有個像望眼鏡的東西。」

「你用這個望遠鏡嗎?」

「是的,用來看船。」

「你是做什麼的。」

「有商船進港時我們就報告。」我記得她在另一個前世裡也做過這個,那時她叫克利斯群,是個在海軍戰役中受傷的水手。

「你是個水手嗎?」我問,想尋求肯定。

「我不知道,也許。」

「看得到你穿什麼?」

「是的。某種白襯衫、棕色短褲和有大扣帶的鞋子……我將來會成為一個水手,但現在還不是。」她能看得到未來,但此舉也使她一下跳到前面。

「我受傷了,」她哀嚎著,因痛苦而蜷曲。「我的手受傷了。」她真的是克利斯群,並且又經歷了海戰。

「是不是有了爆炸?」

「對…….我聞到火藥味!」

「你會沒事的。」我心裡知道結局,安慰著她。

「很多人生命垂危,」她仍然相當激動,「帆都碎了……港口一部分被炸得面目全非。」她在觀察船的受損情況,「我們必須修理船帆。」

「你復元了嗎?」

「是的。帆上的纖維很難縫。」

「你能用手做事了?」

「不,但我在看其他的……帆。它們是某種帆布做的,很難縫……很多人死了。很痛苦地死去。」她悲泣著。

「怎麼了?」

「我手上……的痛。」

「你的手會好。再往前一點。你後來又上船了?」

「是的。」她停下來,「我們在南威爾斯。我們得防衛海岸線。」

「誰攻擊你們?」

「我相信是西班牙人……他們有一支大船隊。」

「接下來發生什麼?」

「我只看到船。看到港口。還有商店。有的店裡在做蠟燭。還有賣書的店。」

「是的。你去過書店嗎?」

「去過,我非常喜歡去。書是很美好的。我看到很多書。那本紅色的是歷史。這些寫的是城鎮和土地,還有地圖。我喜歡這本書,還有一間店在賣帽子。」

「有你喝酒的地方嗎?」我記得克利斯群對麥酒的描述。

「是的,有很多,」她回答,「他們有麥酒……很黑的麥酒……還有一種肉……羊肉。還有麵包……很大塊的麵包。麥酒很烈。我嘗得出來。他們也有葡萄酒,和長長的木桌……」

我決定叫她的名字,看看反應,「克利斯群!」

「在!你有什麼事?」

「你家人在哪?克利斯群!」

「在一個鄰近的鎮上。我們從這個港出海。」

「你家裡有誰?」

「我有一個姐姐,她叫瑪莉。」

「你女朋友在哪裡?」

「沒有女朋友。只認識鎮上一些女人。」

「沒有特別要好的?」

「沒有……我得回到船上。我打過很多次仗,但沒喪生。」

「你活到老…….」

「結婚了嗎?」

「應該是。我看到一個戒指。」

「有孩子嗎?」

「是的。我兒子也航海……我看到一雙手,抓著什麼東西。」凱瑟琳開始作嘔。

「怎麼了?」

「船上的人生病了……是從食物裡來的。我們吃了壞東西是豬排。」她繼續乾嘔。我要她再往前,嘔聲才停下來。我決定不再往前推到克利斯群的心臟病。她已經很累了,於是我將她帶離催眠。
[/spoiler]


[spoiler title="第八章"]

最後一次會診後二個月,凱瑟琳打電話來預約,說要告訴我件有意思的事。

當她走進我辦公室,一個快樂、微笑的凱瑟琳出現在眼前,內在的平靜使她整個人很有光采,我微微一驚。不禁想起以前的凱瑟琳,以及短短期間內她巨大的改變。

凱瑟琳去看了艾瑞斯·薩茲曼,一個有名通靈星相家,擅長看前世。我有點驚訝,不過也可以瞭解她的好奇,及需要一些外加的肯定。我很高興她有信心這麼做。

凱瑟琳是從朋友處聽說了艾瑞斯,她打電話去約時間,並沒有透露任何在我診療室裡的事。

艾瑞斯只問了她出生時間和地點。從這些資料,她就推算出凱瑟琳的命盤,是個可以知道自己前世細節的人。

這是凱瑟琳第一次遇上算命師,她真的知道對方會說出什麼。令她驚訝的是,艾瑞斯竟證實了大半凱瑟琳催眠後說出的話。

艾瑞斯藉著說話,及草草畫起的星象圖,轉到一種狀態。幾分鐘後,艾瑞斯說出凱瑟琳脖子曾被勒過,並在前世中被割過喉嚨。割喉嚨是在一次戰爭中,艾瑞斯並看見數世紀以前那個火光夢燒、遭摧殘的小村。他說凱瑟琳死時是個年輕男子。

當她接下來形容凱瑟琳是個年輕男性,穿著海軍制服、黑短褲及有奇怪鞋扣的鞋子時,艾瑞斯眼睛亮起來。突然艾瑞斯抓住她的左手,感到一陣劇痛,說有尖東西刺進手裡弄傷了她,而且留下永久的傷疤。那是發生大規模海戰,地點不在英國海岸。她繼續描述航海生話。

艾瑞斯說了更多個前世的片段。在巴黎有過一次短暫人生,凱瑟琳是個小男孩,年紀很小即死於貧困。另一生是個住在佛羅里達西南岸的美國印地安女人,在這生她是個醫生,赤腳行遍百里。皮膚很黑,有雙奇怪的眼睛。她會給傷處塗油、敷上草藥,而且非常通靈。她喜歡帶藍寶石,中間並穿插一顆紅寶石。

另一生中凱瑟琳是個西班牙人,職業是妓女。她的名字是字母L開頭的。和一個年長男人同居。

另一世,她是個有錢人的私生女。艾瑞斯看到一幢大房子裡有家族徽章記。他說凱瑟琳很美,並有修長輕盈的十指,會彈豎琴。她的婚姻已排定。凱瑟琳愛動物,尤其是馬,她待動物好過身邊的人。

另一個短暫的生命,是做個摩洛哥小男孩,因病而死。她也曾在海地待過,會說當地話及變魔術。

還有一次,她是個埃及人,負責準備葬禮事宜。那時她是個梳辮子的女生。

她在法國和意大利也有過幾世。其中之一,她住在弗羅倫斯,信仰很虔誠。後來她搬到瑞士,住進修道院。她是二個兒子的母親。喜歡金子和金雕像,並帶一個金十字架。在法國,她被關在一個又黑又冷的監牢裡。

在另一世,艾瑞斯看到凱瑟琳是個穿紅色制服的男性,周圍有很多馬和士兵。制服時紅色和金色混雜,可能是俄軍的。還有一生,她是古埃及的努比亞奴隸。在某一刻她被抓起來,關進牢裡。另一世,她是個日本男人,於書本和教學為伍,相當有學問。教過不同學校,活到很老。

最後,在一次較近代的輪迴裡,她是個德國士兵,死於戰役。

我對艾瑞斯描述的前世細節,驚訝地說不出話來。它和凱瑟琳回憶的相關性,十分驚人——克利斯韋在海戰中手的受傷及衣服、鞋子的描述;露意沙做西班牙妓女的一生;阿朗達和埃及的葬禮;約罕做強盜時被史都華的化身刺了喉嚨;艾瑞克,那個倒霉的德國飛行員,及其他。

此外,與凱瑟琳的現世也有關連。例如,凱瑟琳喜歡藍寶石,尤其是青金石。不過,她去見艾瑞斯時什麼也沒戴。她終是非常喜愛動物,尤其是馬和貓,覺得跟它們在一起比跟人相處要安全。以及,若要她在全世界挑一個地方去旅行,她會選弗羅倫斯。

但是說什麼我也不能講這經驗為一個有效的科學實驗,因為根本無法控制變項,但它就是發生了,我也覺得該這裡記下一筆。

我不太確定那天是什麼情形。也許艾瑞斯無意識地用超感應去「讀」凱瑟琳的心,因為那些前世已在她潛意識中。或者,艾瑞斯真能用她的通靈能力辨識前生的種種訊息。無論如何,凱瑟琳去算了命,他們兩人用不同的方法得到一樣結果,凱瑟琳在催眠中有回溯獲得,艾瑞斯則接通靈管道獲得。

很少人能做到艾瑞斯這點,很多號稱通靈的人只是利用人們的恐懼和好奇來賺財。今天,通靈的騙子似乎是從發達的出版品而來,像雪梨·麥克蘭(Shirley MacLaine)的「緊要關頭」(Out on a Limb)的暢銷,又為此道造成一股新的潮流。許多人大做廣告,光為招徠,在「入定」的狀態下告訴滿懷戒心的觀眾這種陳腔濫調:「要是你不與自然和諧,自然也不會與你和諧。」這些話通常是用一種和「媒介者」本身不同的音調說出,還時常混入一些外國人發音之類的,訊息模糊而用於很廣的範圍。通常涉及超自然的層次,很難評斷真假,而區分真偽確實很重要的,否則整個領域都蒙上不白之冤。我們很需要認真的行為科學家來研究這重要工作。心理醫師有必要作診斷過濾,刪掉精神異常、偽裝或厭世傾向的病人。統計學家、心理學家及醫生都對這些評監及未來測試極為重要。

在這個領域中踏出重要步伐該用科學的方法做。在科學上,催眠原是用來解釋現象的,以此為出發點,假設必須在控制的情況下來檢驗,這些檢驗的結果必須經過證明反覆驗證,才能形成一個理論。一旦科學家有了自覺成熟的理論,都必須由別的研究者一再的測試,並得到相同結果才行。

杜克大學的萊恩(Joseph B.Rhine)博士、維吉尼亞大學心理治療系的史蒂芬生(Lan Stevensan)博士、紐約市立大學的史萬德勒(Gerttude Schmeidler)博士詳細而可靠的研究,即許多其他嚴肅的研究者,都證明這是可以做到的。

[/spoiler]
[spoiler title="結語"]

這本書現在完成了,不過故事仍繼續下去。凱瑟琳仍好好的,沒有發生什麼症狀。我對導引其他病人的回憶一直很小心,要看他們症狀有什麼特性、是否對其他療法抗拒,是否容易被催眠,對這種方法是否持開放態度,以及端視我的直覺是否認為可行。從凱瑟琳以後,我大約對十多個病人做過詳細的前世回溯。這些病人沒有一個是精神異常,妄想傾向或多重人格,他們全有大幅的進步。

這十二個病人背景與個性皆有很大差異。一個邁阿密海灘來的猶太家庭主婦,生動地憶起在耶穌死後不久,她在巴勒斯坦被一群羅馬士兵強暴。十九世紀時她在新奧爾良經營一家妓院,中世紀時住在一個法國修道院裡,並在日本度過慘淡的一生。她是除了凱瑟琳外唯一能從中間狀態傳遞訊息的病人。她的訊息也是完全通靈的,並能知道我過去的事,甚至具有準確預測未來的能力。她的訊息來自一個特定的靈魂,我目前正將她說的話做分類整理。我仍然是個科學家,她所有的材料都需要經過評估和驗證。

其他人則在死後離開身體、浮進光裡之外,不能多記得什麼,並且無法傳遞回來任何思想或訊息,但是每個人都有生動的前世記憶。一個精明的證券經紀人在維多利亞時代的英國,過了愉快但平淡的一生。一個藝術家在西班牙宗教審判中受到刑求。一個餐館老闆,不敢開車過橋或經過隧道,記得在古代近東地區被活埋過。一個年輕醫生記得他是個維京人時,在海上遇難。一個電視製作人六百年前在弗倫斯受過折磨。病人的紀錄還在增加。

這些人也記得不同世代的生活。當某一世揭露後,症狀也就好轉。現在他們每個人都堅信自己以前活過,將來也會再轉世,他們對死亡的恐懼減低了。

並不是每個人都需要做回溯治療或去找通靈人,甚至靜坐。那些有困擾的人才需要。對於其他人,保持一顆開放心靈才是最重要的。要瞭解生命不只是眼前所見。生命在我們的五種感官之外還能延續。對新知識及新經驗要有接受的態度。

「我們的目標就是去學習,經由知識成為像神一般的存在。」

「我不再介意這本書可能對我事業的影響。我所分享的訊息比那更重要,而且,如果傳播得當的話,會比我在辦公室以個人為基礎做的對全世界更有益處。」

我希望大家能由書中內容得到幫助,減輕對死亡的恐懼,藉這些訊息所揭示的生命真義,把自己的生活發揮到極致,尋求和諧與內在平靜,並對人類同胞伸出愛的援手。

[/spoiler]
[spoiler title="English Edition"]MANY LIVES, MANY MASTERS by BRIAN L. WEISS, M.D. @ 1988
To Carole, my wife, Whose love has nourished and sustained me for longer than I can remember.
We are together, to the end of time.

My thanks and love go to my children, Jordan and Amy, who forgave me for stealing so much time from them to write this book.
I also thank Nicole Paskow for transcribing the audiotapes of the therapy sessions.
Julie Rubin’s editorial suggestions after reading the first draft of this book were most valuable.
My heartfelt thanks go to Barbara Gess, my editor at Simon & Schuster, for her expertise and her courage.
My deep appreciation goes to all of the others, here and there, who have made this book possible.

PREFACE

I know that there is a reason for everything. Perhaps at the moment that an event occurs we have neither the insight nor the foresight to comprehend the reason, but with time and patience it will come to light. So it was with Catherine. I first met her in 1980 when she was twentyseven years old. She had come to my office seeking help for her anxiety, panic attacks, and phobias. Although these symptoms had been with her since childhood, in the recent past they had become much worse. Every day she found herself more emotionally paralysed and less able to function. She was terrified and understandably depressed.

In contrast to the chaos that was going on in her life at that time, my life was flowing smoothly. I had a good stable marriage,two young children, and a flourishing career. From the beginning, my life seemed always to have been on a straight course. I had grown up in a loving home. Academic success had come easily, and by my sophomore year in college I had made the decision to become a psychiatrist.
I was graduated Phi Beta Kappa, magna cum laude, from Columbia University in-New York in 1966. I then went to the Yale University School of Medicine and received my M.D. degree in 1970. Following an internship at the New York University Bellevue Medical Center, I returned to Yale to complete my residency in psychiatry. Upon completion, I accepted a faculty position at the University of Pittsburgh. Two years later, I joined the faculty of the University of Miami, heading the psychopharmacology division. There I achieved national recognition in the fields of biological psychiatry and substance abuse. After four years at the university, I was promoted to the rank of Associate Professor of Psychia try at the medical school, and I was appointed Chief of Psychiatry
at a large universityaffiliated hospital in Miami. By that time, I had already published thirtyseven scientific papers and book chapters in my field. Years of disciplined study had trained my mind to think as a scientist and physician, molding me along the narrow paths of conservatism in my profession. I distrusted anything that could not be proved by traditional scientific methods. I was aware of some of the studies in parapsychology that were being conducted at major universities across the country, but they did not hold my attention. It all seemed too farfetched to me.
Then met I Catherine. For eighteen months I used conventional methods of therapy to help her overcome her symptoms. When nothing seemed to work, I tried hypnosis. In a series of trance states, Catherine recalled “past-life" memories that proved to be the causative factors of her symptoms. She also was able
to act as a conduit for information from highly evolved “spirit entities," and through them she revealed many of the secrets of life and of death. In just a few short months, her symptoms disappeared, and she resumed her life, happier and more at peace than ever before. Nothing in my background had prepared me for this. I was absolutely amazed when these events unfolded. I do not have a scientific explanation for what happened. There is far too much about the human mind that is beyond our comprehension. Perhaps, under hypnosis, Catherine was able to focus in on the part of her subconscious mind that stored actual past-life memories, or perhaps she had tapped into what the psychoanalyst Carl Jung termed the collective unconscious, the energy source that surrounds us and contains the memories of the entire human race. Scientists are beginning to seek these answers. We, as a society, have much to gain from research into the mysteries of the mind, the soul, the continuation of life after death, and the influence of our past-life experiences on our present behavior . Obviously, the ramifications are limitless, particularly in the fields of medicine, psychiatry,theology, and philosophy.

However, scientifically rigorous research in this area is in its infancy. Strides are being made to uncover this information, but the process is slow and is met with much resistance by scientists and lay people alike. Throughout history, humankind has been resistant to change and to the acceptance of new ideas. Historical lore is replete with examples. When Galileo discovered the moons of Jupiter, the astronomers of that time refused to accept or even to look at these satellites because the existence of these moons conflicted with their accepted beliefs. So it is now with psychiatrists and other therapists, who refuse to examine and evaluate the considerable evidence being gathered about survival after bodily death and about past-life memories. Their eyes stay tightly shut. This book is my small contribution to the ongoing research in the field of parapsychology, especially the branch dealing with our experiences before birth and after death. Every word that you will be reading is true. I have added nothing, and I have deleted only those parts that were repetitious. I have slightly changed Catherine’s identity to ensure confidentiality.

It took me four years to write about what happened, four years to garner the courage to take the professional risk of revealing this unorthodox information.
Suddenly one night while I was taking a shower, I felt compelled to put this experience down on paper. I had a strong feeling that the time was right, that I should not withhold the information any longer. The lessons I had learned were meant to be shared with others, not to be kept private. The knowledge had come through Catherine and now had to come through me. I knew that no possible consequence I might face could prove to be as devastating as not sharing the knowledge I had gained about immortality and the true meaning of life. I rushed out of the shower and sat down at my desk with the stack of audio tapes I had made during my sessions with Catherine. In the wee hours of the morning, I thought of my old Hungarian grandfather who had died while I was still a teenager. Whenever I would tell him that I was afraid to take a risk, he would lovingly encourage me by repeating his favorite English expression: “Vat the hell," he would say, “vat the hell."

CHAPTER 1

THE first time I saw Catherine she was wearing a vivid crimson dress and was nervously leafing through a magazine in my waiting room. She was visibly out of breath. For the previous twenty minutes she had been pacing the corridor outside the Department of Psychiatry offices, trying to convince herself to keep her appointment with me and not run away. I went out to the waiting room to greet her, and we shook hands. I noticed that hers were cold and damp, confirming her anxiety. Actually, it had taken her two months of couragegathering to make an appointment to see me even though she had been strongly advised to seek my help by two staff physicians, both of whom she trusted. Finally, she was here. Catherine is an extraordinarily attractive woman, with mediumlength blond hair and hazel eyes. At that time, she worked as a laboratory technician in the hospital where I was Chief of Psychiatry, and she earned extra money modeling swim wear. I ushered her into my office, past the couch and to a large leather chair. We sat across from each other, my semicircular desk separating us. Catherine leaned back in her chair, silent, not knowing where to begin. I waited, preferring that she choose the opening, but after a few minutes I began inquiring about her past. On that first visit we began to unravel who she was and why she had come to see me. In answer to my questions, Catherine revealed the story of her life. She was the middle child, reared in a conservative Catholic family in a small Massachusetts town. Her brother, born three years earlier than she, was very athletic, and he enjoyed a freedom that she was never allowed. Her younger sister was the favorite of both parents. When we started to talk about her symptoms, she became noticeably more tense and nervous. Her speech was rapid, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. Her life had always been burdened with fears. She feared water, feared choking to the extent that she could not swallow pills, feared airplanes, feared the dark, and she was terrified of dying. In the recent past, her fears had begun to worsen. In order to feel safe, she often slept in the walk-in closet in her apartment. She suffered two to three hours of insomnia before being able to fall alseep. Once asleep, she would sleep lightly and fitfully, awakening frequently. The nightmares and sleep walking episodes that had plagued her childhood were returning . As her fears and symptoms increasingly paralyzed her, she became more and more depressed.

As Catherine continued to talk, I could sense how deeply she was suffering. Over the years I had helped many patients like Catherine through the agonies of their fears, and I felt confident that I could help her, too. I decided we would begin by delving into her childhood, looking for the original sources of her problems. Usually this kind of insight helps to alleviate anxiety. If necessary, and if she could manage to swallow pills, I would offer her some mild antianxiety medications to make her more comfortable. This was standard textbook treatment for Catherine’s symptoms, and I never hesitated to use tran-quilizers , or even antidepressant medicines, to treat chronic, severe fears and anxieties. Now I use these medicines much more sparingly and only temporarily, if at all. No medicine can reach the real roots of these symptoms. My experiences with Catherine and others like her have proved this to me. Now I know there can be cures, not just the suppression or covering-over of symptoms.
During the first session, I kept trying to gently nudge her back to her childhood. Because Catherine remembered amazingly few events from her early years, I made a mental note to consider hypnotherapy as a possible shortcut to overcome this repression. She could not remember any particularly traumatic moments in her childhood that would explain the epidemic of fears in her life. As she strained and stretched her mind to remember, isolated memory fragments emerged. When she was about five years old, she had panicked when someone had pushed her off a diving board into a swimming pool. She said that even be fore that incident, however, she had never felt comfortable in water. When Catherine was eleven, her mother had be come severely depressed. Her mother’s strange withdrawal from the family necessitated visits to a psychiatrist with ensuing electroshock treatments. These treatments had made it difficult for her mother to remember things. This experience with her mother frightened Catherine, but, as her mother improved and became “herself" again, Catherine said that her fears dissipated. Her father had a longstanding history of alcohol abuse, and sometimes Catherine’s brother had to retrieve their father from the local bar. Her father’s increasing alcohol consumption led to his having frequent fights with her mother, who would then become moody and withdrawn. However, Catherine viewed this as an accepted family pattern.
Things were better outside the home. She dated in high school and mixed in easily with her friends, most of whom Brian L. Weiss, M.D. 19 Many Lives, Many Masters 18 she had known for many years. However, she found it difficult to trust people, especially those outside her small circle of friends. Her religion was simple and unquestioned. She was raised to believe in traditional Catholic ideology and practices, and she had never really doubted the truthfulness and validity of her faith. She believed that if you were a good Catholic and lived properly by observing the faith and its rituals, you would be rewarded by going to heaven; if not, you would experience purgatory or hell. A patriarchal God and his Son made these final decisions. I later learned that Catherine did not believe in reincarnation; in fact, she knew very little about the concept, although she had read sparingly about the Hindus. Reincarnation was an idea contrary to her upbringing and understanding. She had never read any metaphysical or occult literature, having had no interest in it. She was secure in her beliefs.

After high school, Catherine completed a two-year technical program, emerging as a laboratory technician. Armed with a profession and encouraged by her brother’s move to Tampa, Catherine landed a job in Miami at a large teaching hospital affiliated with the University of Miami School of Medicine.
She moved to Miami in the spring of 1974, at the age of twentyone. Catherine’s life in a small town had been easier than her life in Miami turned out to be, yet she was glad she had fled her family problems. During her first year in Miami, Catherine met Stuart. Married, Jewish, and with two children, he was totally different from any other man she had ever dated. He was a successful physician, strong and aggressive. There was an irresistible chemistry between them, but their affair was rocky and tempestuous . Something about him drew out her passions and awakened her, as if she were charmed by him. At the time Catherine started therapy, her affair with Stuart was in its sixth year and very much alive, if not well. Catherine could not resist Stuart although he treated her poorly, and she was furious at his lies, broken promises, and manipulations.

Several months prior to her appointment with me, Catherine had required vocal cord surgery for a benign nodule. She had been anxious prior to the surgery but was absolutely terrified upon awakening in the recovery room. It took hours for the nursing staff to calm her. After her recovery in the hospital, she sought out Dr. Edward Poole. Ed was a kindly pediatrician whom Catherine had met while working in the hospital. They had both felt an instant rapport and had developed a close friendship. Catherine talked freely to Ed, telling him of her fears, her relationship with Stuart, and that she felt she was losing control over her life. He insisted that she make an appointment with me and only me, not with any of my associate psychiatrists. When Ed called to tell me about his referral, he explained that, for some reason, he thought only I could truly understand Catherine, even though the other psychiatrists also had excellent credentials and were skilled therapists. Catherine did not call me, however. Eight weeks passed. In the crunch of my busy practice as head of the Department of Psychiatry, I had forgotten about Ed’s call. Catherine’s fears and phobias worsened. Dr. Frank Acker, Chief of Surgery, had known Catherine casually for years, and they often bantered good-naturedly when he visited the laboratory where she worked. He had noticed her recent unhappiness and sensed her tension. Several times he had meant to say something to her but had hesitated. One after noon, Frank was driving to a smaller, out-of-the way hospital to give a lecture. On the way, he saw Catherine driving to her home, which was close to that hospital, and impulsively waved her to the side of the road. “I want you to see Dr. Weiss now " he yelled through the window. “No delays." Al though surgeons often act impulsively, even Frank was sur prised at how emphatic he was. Catherine’s panic attacks and anxiety were increasing in frequency and duration. She began having two recurrent night mares. In one, a bridge collapsed while she was driving across it. Her car plunged into the water below, and she was trapped and drowning. In the second dream, she was trapped in a pitchblack room, stumbling and falling over things, unable to find a way out. Finally, she came to see me.

At the time of my first session with Catherine, I had no idea that my life was about to turn upside down, that the frightened, confused woman across the desk from me would be the catalyst, and that I would never be the same again.

CHAPTER 2

Eighteen months of intensive psychotherapy passed, with Catherine coming to see me once or twice a week. She was a good patient, verbal, capable of insights, and extremely eager to get well. During that time, we explored her feelings, thoughts, and

dreams. Her recognition of recurrent behavior patterns provided her with insight and understanding. She remembered many more significant details from her past, such as her mer chant seaman father’s absences from the home and his occasional violent outbursts after drinking too much.

She under stood much more about her turbulent relationship with Stuart, and she expressed anger more appropriately. I felt that she should have been much improved by now. Patients almost always improve when they remember unpleasant influences from their past, when they learn to recognize

and correct maladaptive behavior patterns, and when they develop insight and view their problems from a larger, more detached perspective . But Catherine had not improved. Anxiety and panic attacks still tortured her. The vivid re current nightmares continued, and she was still

terrified of the dark, of water, and of being closed in. Her sleep was still fragmented and unrefreshing . She was experiencing heart palpitations . She continued to refuse any medicines, afraid of

24
Brian L. Weus, M.D.

choking on the pills. I felt as if I had

reached a wall, and that no matter what I did, that wall would remain so high that neither of us would be able to climb over it. But, with my sense of frustration came an added sense of determination. Somehow, I was going to help Catherine.

And then a strange thing happened. Although she was

intensely afraid of flying and had to fortify herself with several drinks while she was on the plane, Catherine accompanied Stuart to a medical conference in Chicago in the spring of 1982. While there, she pressured him into visiting the Egyptian exhibit at the art museum, where they joined a guided tour.

Catherine had always had an interest in ancient Egyptian artifacts and reproductions of relics from that period. She was hardly a scholar and had never studied that time in history, but somehow the pieces seemed familiar to her. When the guide began to describe some of the

artifacts in the exhibit, she found herself correcting him . . . and she was right! The guide was surprised; Catherine was stunned. How did she know these things? Why did she feel so strongly t h a t she was right, so sure of herself that she corrected the guide in public? Perhaps the memories were forgotten

from her childhood. At her next appointment, she told me what had happened. Months earlier I had suggested hypnosis to Catherine, but she was afraid and she resisted. Because of her experience at the Egyptian exhibit, she now reluctantly agreed. Hypnosis is an excellent

tool to help a patient remember longforgotten incidents. There is nothing mysterious about it. It is just a state of focused concentration. Under the instruction of a trained hypnotist, the patient’s body relaxes, causing the memory to sharpen. I had hypnotized hundreds of patients and had

found it helpful in reducing anxiety, eliminat- Many Lives, Many Masters 25

ing phobias, changing bad habits, and aiding in the recall of repressed material. On occasion, I had been successful in regressing patients back to their early childhoods, even to

when they were two or three years old, thus eliciting the memories of longforgotten traumas that were disrupting their lives. I felt confident that hypnosis would help Catherine. I instructed Catherine to lie on the couch with her eyes slightly closed and her head resting on a small pillow. At

first we focused on her breathing. With each exhalation she re leased stored-up tension and anxiety; with each inhalation she relaxed even more. After several minutes of this, I told her to visualize her muscles progressively relaxing, beginning with her facial muscles and jaw, then her neck and

shoulders, her arms, back and stomach muscles, and finally her legs. She felt her entire body sinking deeper and deeper into the couch. Then I instructed her to visualize a bright white light at the top of her head, inside her body. Later on, as I had the light spread slowly down her

body, it completely relaxed every muscle, every nerve, every organ鈥攁ll of her body 鈥攂ringing her into a deeper and deeper state of relaxation and peace. She felt sleepier and sleepier, more and more peateful and calm. Eventually, at my instruction, the light filled her body and surrounded

her well.

as

I counted backward slowly from ten to one. With each number, she entered a deeper level of relaxation. Her trance state deepened. She was able to concentrate on my voice and exclude all background noises. By the count of one, she was already in a moderately deep state

of hypnosis. The entire process had taken about twenty minutes. After a while I began to regress her, asking her to recall memories of progressively earlier ages. She was able to talk and to answer my questions while maintaining a deep level of hypnosis. She remembered a traumatic

experience at the 27 Many Lives, Many Masters Brian L Weiss, M.D. 26 dentist that occurred when she was six years old. She vividly remembered the terrifying experience at age five when she was pushed from a diving board into

a pool. She had gagged and choked then, swallowing some water, and while talking about it she began to gag in my office. I suggested to her that the experience was over, that she was out of the water. The gagging stopped, and she resumed her normal breathing. She was still in a deep

trance. At age three, the worst event of all had occurred. She re membered awakening in her dark bedroom and being aware that her father was in her room. He reeked of alcohol then, and she could smell it now. He touched her and rubbed her, even “down there." She was terrified and began to cry, so

he covered her mouth with his rough hand. She could not breathe. In my office, on my couch, twenty-five years later, Catherine began to sob. I felt that we had the information now, the key to the lock. I was sure that her symptoms would improve quickly and dramatically. I softly suggested to her that the experience

was over, that she was no longer in her bedroom but was resting quietly, still in a trance. The sobbing ended. I took her forward in time to her current age. I awakened her after I had instructed her, by posthypnotic suggestion, to re member all that she had told me. We spent the remainder of the session

discussing her suddenly vivid memory of the trauma with her father. I tried to help her accept and integrate her “new" knowledge. She now understood her relationship with her father, his reactions to her, his aloofness, and her fear of him. She was still shaking when she left the office, but I knew the understanding she had

gained was worth the momentary discomfort.

In the drama of uncovering her painful and deeply repressed memories, I had entirely forgotten to look for the possible childhood connection to her knowledge of the Egyp- tian artifacts. But at least she understood more

about her past. She had remembered several terrifying events, and I expected a significant improvement in her symptoms.

Despite this new understanding, the next week she reported that her symptoms remained intact, as severe as ever. I was surprised. I could not understand what was wrong. Could something

have happened earlier than age three? We had uncovered more than sufficient reasons for her fear of choking , of the water, of the dark, and of being trapped, and yet the piercing fears and symptoms, the uncontrolled anxiety, were all still devastating her waking moments. Her night

mares were as terrifying as before. I decided to regress her further. While hypnotized, Catherine spoke in a slow and deliberate whisper. Because of this, I was able to write down her words verbatim and have quoted Catherine directly. (The ellipses represent pauses in her speech, not

deletions of words nor editing on my part. However, some of the material that is repetitious is not included here.) Slowly, I took Catherine back to the age of two, but she recalled no significant memories. I instructed her “firmly and clearly: “Go back to the time from which your symptoms

arise." I was totally unprepared for what came next. I see white steps leading up to a building, a big white building with pillars, open in front. There are no doorways. I’m wearing a long dress … a sack made of rough material. My hair is braided, long blond hair."

I was confused. I wasn’t sure what was happening. I asked her what the year was, what her name was. “Aronda … I am eighteen. I see a marketplace in front of the building. There are baskets. . . . You carry the baskets on your shoulders . We live in a valley. . . . There is no water. The year is 1 8 6 3 b.c.

The area is barren, hot, and sandy. There is a well, Many Lives, Many Masters 29 Brian L. Weiss, M.D. 28 no rivers. Water comes into the valley from the mountains."

After she related more

topographical details, I told her to go several years ahead in time and to tell me what she saw. There are trees and a stone road. I see a fire with cooking. My hair is blond. I’m wearing a long, coarse brown dress and sandals. I am twentyfive. I have a girl child whose name is Cleastra. . . . She’s

Rachel. [Rachel is presently her niece; they have always had an extremely close relationship.] It’s very hot." I was startled. My stomach knotted, and the room felt cold. Her visualizations and recall seemed so definite. She was not at all tentative. Names, dates, clothes, trees鈥攁ll seen vividly!

What was going on here? How could the child she had then be her niece now? I was even more confused. I had examined thousands of psychiatric patients, many under hypnosis, and I had never come across fantasies like this before 鈥攏ot even in dreams. I instructed her to go forward to

the time of her death. I wasn’t sure how to interview someone in the middle of such an explicit fantasy (or memory?), but I was on the lookout for traumatic events that might underlie current fears or symptoms. The events around the time of death could be particularly traumatic. Apparently a flood or tidal wave

was devastating the village. There are big waves knocking down trees. There’s no place to run. It’s cold; the water is cold. I have to save my baby, but I cannot . . . just have to hold her tight. I drown; the water chokes me. I can’t breathe, can’t swallow . . . salty water. My baby is

torn out of my arms." Catherine was gasping and having difficulty breathing. Suddenly her body relaxed completely , and her breathing became deep and even. I see clouds. . . . My baby is with me. And others from my village. I see my brother." She was resting; this

lifetime had ended. She was still in a deep trance. I was stunned! Previous lifetimes? Reincarnation ? My clinical mind told me that she was not fantasizing this material, that she was not making this up. Her thoughts, her expressions, the attention to particular

details, all were different from her conscious state. The whole gamut of possible psychiatric diagnoses flashed through my mind, but her psychiatric state and her character structure did not explain these revelations. Schizophrenia? No, she had never had any evidence of a cognitive or thinking disorder.

She had never experienced any auditory hallucinations of hearing voices, visual hallucinations or visions while awake, or any other type of psychotic episodes. She was not delusional, nor was she out of touch with reality. She did not have multiple or split personalities . There was only one Catherine, and her

conscious mind was totally aware of this. She had no sociopathic or anti social tendencies. She was not an actress. She did not use drugs, nor did she ingest hallucinogenic substances. Her use of alcohol was minimal. She had no neurological or psychological illnesses that could explain this vivid, immediate

experience while hypnotized.

These were memories of some sort, but from where? My gut reaction was that I had stumbled upon something I knew very little about 鈥攔eincarnation and pastlife memories. It couldn’t be, I told myself; my scientifically trained mind resisted it. Yet here

it was, happening right before my eyes. I couldn’t explain it, but I couldn’t deny the reality of it either. Go on," I said, a little unnerved but fascinated by what was happening. “Do you remember anything else?" She re membered fragments of two other lifetimes. I have

on a dress with black lace, and there is black lace on my head. I have dark hair with gray in it. It’s {A.D.] 1756. I am Spanish. My name is Louisa and I’m fifty-six. I’m dancing ; others are dancing, too. [Long pause] I’m sick; I have a 30 Brian L. Weiss, M.O.

fever, cold sweats. . . . Lots of people are sick; people are dying. . . . The doctors don’t know it was from the water." I took her ahead in time. “I recover, but my head still hurts; my eyes and head still hurt from the fever, from the water. . . . Many die." Later she told me that she was a prostitute

in that lifetime, but she had not relayed that information because she was embarrassed by it. Apparently, while hypnotized, Catherine could censor some of the memories she transmitted back to me. Since Catherine had recognized her niece in an ancient life time, I impulsively

asked her if I was present in any of her lifetimes. I was curious about my role, if any, in her remembrances . She responded quickly, in contrast to the previous very slow and deliberate recall, You are my teacher, sitting on a ledge. You teach us from books. You are old with gray hair. You’re

wearing a white dress [toga with gold trim. . . . Your name is Diogenes . You teach us symbols, triangles. You are very wise, but I don’t understand. The year is 1568 B.C. (This was approximately twelvehundred years Before the noted Greek Cynic philosopher Diogenes. The name was not an uncommon one.)

The first session had ended. Even more amazing ones were yet to come. Many Lives, Many Masters 31

be able to prove any of her assertions or visualizations. But I was also aware, although much more dimly, of a further and less emotional thought.

Keep an open mind, the thought said; true science begins with observation. Her “memories" might not be fantasy or imagination. There might be something more than meets the eye鈥攐r any of the other senses. Keep an open mind. Get more data. I had another nagging thought. Would

Catherine, prone to anxieties and fears to begin with, be too frightened to undergo hypnosis again? I decided not to call her. Let her digest the experience, too. I would wait until next week.

After Catherine left, and over the next several days, I pondered the

details of the hypnotic regression. It was natural for me to ponder. Very few details emerging from even a “normal therapy hour escaped my obsessive mental analysis, and this session was hardly “normal." In addition, I was very skeptical about life after death, reincarnation, out-ofbody

experiences , and related phenomena. After all, the logical part of me ruminated, this could be her fantasy. I wouldn’t actually

CHAPTER 3
ne week later, Catherine bounced into my office for her next hypnosis session. Beautiful to begin with, she

O

was more radiant than ever. She happily announced that her lifelong fear of drowning had disappeared. Her fears of choking were somewhat diminished. Her sleep was no longer interrupted by the nightmare of a collapsing bridge. Although she had re membered the details of her past-life

recall, she had not yet truly integrated the material. The concepts of past lives and reincarnation were alien to her cosmology, and yet her memories were so vivjd, the sights and sounds and smells so clear, the knowledge that she was there so powerful and immediate, that she felt she

must have actually been there. She did not doubt this; the experience was so overwhelming. Yet she was concerned about how this fit in with her upbringing and her beliefs. During the week I had reviewed my textbook from a comparative religions course taken during my freshman

year at Columbia. There were indeed references to reincarnation in the Old and the New Testaments. I n a.d. 325 the Roman emperor Constantine the Great, along with his mother, Helena, had deleted references to reincarnation contained in the New Testament. The Second Council of Constantinople, meeting in

a.d. 553, confirmed this action and declared the

36
Brian L, Weiss, M.D. 37 Many Lives, Many Masters concept of reincarnation a heresy. Apparently, they thought this concept would weaken the growing power of the

Church by giving humans too much time to seek their salvation. Yet the original references had been there; the early Church fathers had accepted the concept of reincarnation. The early Gnostics 鈥擟lement of Alexandria, Origen, Saint Jerome, and many others 鈥攂elieved that they had lived

before and would again. I, however, had never believed in reincarnation. Actually, I had never really spent much time thinking about it. Although my earlier religious training taught about some kind of vague existence of the “soul" after death, I

was not convinced about this concept.

I was the oldest of four children, all spaced three years apart. We belonged to a conservative Jewish synagogue in Red Bank, a small town near the New Jersey seashore. I was the peacemaker and statesman in my

family. My father was more involved with religion than the rest of us were. He took it very seriously, as he took all of life. His children’s academic achievements were the greatest joys in his life. He was easily upset by household discord and would withdraw, leaving me to mediate. Although this turned out to be excellent

preparatory training for a career in psychiatry, my childhood was heavier and more responsible than, in retrospect, I would have preferred. I emerged from it as a very serious young man, one who got used to taking on too much responsibility.

My mother was always expressing

her love. No boundary stood in her way. A simpler person than my father, she used guilt, martyrdom, terminal embarrassment, and vicarious identification with her children as manipulative tools, all without a second thought. Yet she was rarely gloomy, and we could al ways count on her love and

support. My father had a good job as an industrial photographer, and although we always had plenty of food, money was very tight. My youngest brother, Peter, was born when I was nine. We had to divide six people into our small twobedroom garden apartment.

Life in this small apartment

was hectic and noisy, and I sought refuge in my books. I read endlessly when not playing baseball or basketball, my other childhood passions. I knew that education was my path out of the small town, comfort able as it was, and I was always first or second in my class. By the time I received a

full scholarship to Columbia University , I was a serious and studious young man. Academic success continued to come easily. I majored in chemistry and was graduated with honors. I decided to become a psychiatrist because the field combined my interest in science and my fascination with the

workings of the human mind. In addition, a career in medicine would allow me to express my concern and compassion for other people. In the meantime, I had met Carole during a summer vacation at a Catskill Mountain hotel where I was working as a busboy and she was a guest. We both

experienced an immediate attraction to each other and a strong sense of familiarity and comfort. We corresponded, dated, fell in love, and were engaged by my junior year at Columbia. She was both bright and beautiful. Everything seemed to be falling into place. Few young men worry about life and death

and life after death, especially when things are flowing smoothly, and I was no exception. I was becoming a scientist and learning to think in a logical, dispassionate, “prove-it" kind of way. Medical school and residency at Yale University further 38 Brian L. Weiss,

M.D.

crystallized this scientific method. My research thesis was on brain chemistry and the role of neurotransmitters, which are chemical messengers in the brain tissue. I joined the new breed of biological psychiatrists, those merging the traditional psychiatric theories and techniques

with the new science of brain chemistry, I wrote many scientific papers, lectured at local and national conferences, and be came quite a hotshot in my field. I was a bit obsessive, intense, and inflexible, but these were useful traits in a physician. I felt totally prepared to treat any person who walked into my office for

therapy. Then Catherine became Aronda a young girl who had lived in 1863 b,c Or was it the other way around? And here she was again, happier than I had ever seen her. I again worried that Catherine might be afraid to continue. However, she eagerly prepared for the hypnosis and went under

under quickly. I am throwing wreaths of flowers on the water. This is a ceremony. My hair is blond and braided. I’m wearing a brown dress with gold, and sandals. Somebody has died, somebody in the Royal House … the mother. I am a servant with the Royal House, and I help with the food. We put the

bodies in brine for thirty days. They dry out and the parts are taken out. I can smell it, smell the bodies." She had spontaneously gone back to Aronda’s lifetime, but to a different part of it, to when her duty was to prepare bodies after their death. In a separate building," Catherine continued, “I can see

the bodies. We are wrapping bodies. The soul passes on. You take your belongings with you, to be prepared for the next and greater life." She was expressing what seemed like an Egyptian concept of death and the afterlife, different from any of our beliefs. In that religion, you could take it with you.

39 Many Lives, Many Masters

She left the lifetime and rested. She paused for several minutes before entering an apparently ancient time. I see ice, hanging in a cave . . . rocks. . . ." She vaguely described a dark and miserable

place, and she was now visibly uncomfortable. Later she described what she had seen of herself. “I was ugly, dirty, and smelly." She left for another

There are some buildings and a cart with stone wheels. My hair is brown with a cloth on it. The cart has straw in it. I’m happy. My

father is there. . . . He’s hugging me. It’s . . . it’s Edward [the pediatrician who insisted she see me]. He’s m y father. We live in a valley with trees. There are olive and fig trees in the yard. People write on papers. There are funny marks on them, like letters. People are writing all day, making a library. It is 1536

b.c. The land is barren. My father’s name is Perseus." The year did not fit exactly, but I was sure she was in the same lifetime that she had reported during the previous week’s session. I took her ahead in time, staying in that lifetime. My father knows you [meaning

me]. You and he talk about crops, law, and government. He says you are very smart and I should listen to you." I took her further ahead in time. “He’s {father lying in a dark room. He’s old and sick. It’s cold. … I feel so empty." She went ahead to her death. “Now I’m old and feeble. My daughter is there, near my

bed. My husband is already dead. My daughter’s husband is there, and their children. There are many people around." Her death was peaceful this time. She was floating. Floating ? This reminded me of Dr. Raymond Moody’s studies of victims of near-death experiences. His subjects also remembered

floating, then being pulled back to their bodies. I had read his book several years previously and now made a mental note to reread it. I wondered if Catherine could remember any-

40
Brian L. Weiss, M.D. 41 Many Lives, Many

Masters thing more after her death, but she could only say “I’m just floating." I awakened her and ended that session. With a new insatiable hunger for any scientific papers that had been published on reincarnation, I hunted through the medical libraries. I studied the works of lan

lan Stevenson, M.D., a wellrespected Professor of Psychiatry at the University of Virginia, who has published extensively in the psychiatric literature. Dr. Stevenson has collected over two thousand examples of children with reincarnationtype memories and experiences . Many exhibited xenoglossy , the ability to

speak a foreign language to which they were never exposed. His case reports are carefully complete, wellresearched, and truly remarkable.

I read an excellent scientific overview by Edgar Mitchell. With great interest I examined the ESP data from Duke University, and the writings of Professor C. J,

Ducasse of Brown University, and I intently analyzed the studies of Dr. Martin Ebon, Dr. Helen Wambach, Dr. Gertrude Schmeidler, Dr. Frederick Lenz, and Dr. Edith Fiore, The more I read, the more I wanted to read. I began to realize that even though I had considered myself well educated about every

dimension of the mind, my education had been very limited. There are libraries filled with this research and literature, and few people know about it. Much of this research was conducted, verified , and replicated by reputable clinicians and scientists. Could they all be mistaken or deceived?

The evidence seemed to be overwhelmingly supportive, yet I still doubted. Overwhelming or not, I found it difficult to believe. Both Catherine and I, in our own ways, had already been profoundly affected by the experience. Catherine was improving emotionally, and I was expanding the horizons of my

mind. Catherine had been tormented by her fears for many years and was finally feeling some relief. Whether through actual memories or vivid fantasies, I had found a way to help her, and I was not going to stop now. For a brief moment I thought about all of this as Catherine

drifted into a trance at the beginning of the next session. Prior to the hypnotic induction, she had related a dream about a game being played on old stone steps, a game played with a checkerboard with holes in it. The dream had seemed especially vivid to her. I now told her to go back beyond the normal

limits of space and time, to go back and see if her dream had roots in a previous reincarnation.

I see steps leading up to a tower . . . overlooking the mountains, but also the sea. I am a boy. . . . My hail is blond . . . strange hair. My clothes ate short, brown and white, made from animal skins. Some men

are on top of the tower, looking out . . . guards. They are dirty. They play a game, like checkers, but not. The board is round, not square. They play with sharp, daggerlike pieces, which fit into the holes. The pieces have animal heads on them. Kirustan [phonetic spelling] Territory? From the Netherlands,

around 1473." I asked her the name of the place in which she lived, and whether she could see or hear a year. “I’m in a seaport now; the land goes down to the sea. There is a fortress . . . and water. I see a hut . . . my mother cooking in a clay pot. My name is Johan."

She was progressed to her death. At this point in our sessions , I was still looking for the single overwhelming traumatic event that could either cause or explain her current-life symptoms. Even if these remarkably explicit visualizations were fantasies, and I was unsure of this, what she

believed or thought could still underlie her symptoms. After all, I had seen people traumatized by their dreams. Some could not remember whether a childhood trauma actually happened or oc-

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Brian L. Weiss, M.D. 43 Many Lives, Many

Masters curred in a dream, yet the memory of that trauma still haunted their adult lives. What I did not yet fully appreciate was that the steady day-ln and dayout pounding of undermining influences, such as a parent’s scathing criticisms, could

cause even more psychological trauma than a single traumatic event. These dam aging influences, because they blend into the everyday back ground of our lives, are even more difficult to remember and exorcise. A constantly criticized child can lose as much confidence and selfesteem as

one who remembers being humiliated on one particular, horrifying day. A child whose family is impoverished and has very little food available on a dayto-day basis might eventually suffer from the same psychological problems as a child who experienced one major episode of accidental near-

starvation. I would soon realize that the day-in and dayout pounding of negative forces had to be recognized and resolved with as much attention as that paid ro the single, overwhelmingly traumatic event. Catherine began to speak. There are boats, like

canoes, brightly painted. Providence area. We have weapons, spears, slings, bows and arrows, but bigger. There are big, strange oars on the boat . . . everyone has to row. We may be lost; it is dark. There are no lights, I am afraid. There are other boats with us [apparently a raiding

party]. I’m afraid of the animals. We sleep on dirty, foulsmelling animal skins. We are scouting. My shoes look funny, like sacks . . . ties at the ankles . . . from animal skins. [Long pause] My face is hot from the fire. My people are killing the others, but I am not. I do not want

to kill. My knife is in my hand." Suddenly she began to gurgle and gasp for breath. She re ported that an enemy fighter had grabbed her from behind, around the neck, and had slit her throat with his knife. She saw the face of her killer before she died. It was Stuart. He

looked different then, but she knew it was he. Johan had died at the age of twentyone. She next found herself floating above her body, observing the scene below. She drifted up to the clouds, feeling perplexed and confused. Soon she felt herself being pulled into a “tiny, warm"

warm" space. She was about to be born. Somebody is holding me," she whispered slowly and dreamily, “someone who helped with the birth. She’s wearing a green dress with a white apron. She has a white hat, folded back at the corners. The room has funny windows . . . many

sections. The building is stone. My mother has long, dark hair. She wants to hold me. There’s a funny . . . rough nightshirt on my mother. It hurts to rub against it. It feels good to be in the sun and to be warm again. . . . It’s . . . it’s t h e same mother I have now!" During the

the previous session, I had instructed her to closely observe the significant people in these lifetimes to see whether she could identify them as significant people in her present lifetime as Catherine. According to most writers, groups of souls tend to reincarnate together again and

again, working out their karma (debts owed to others and to the self, lessons to be learned) over the span of many lifetimes. In my attempt to understand this strange, spectacular drama that was unfolding, unbeknown to the rest of the world, in my quiet, dimly lighted office, I

office, I wanted to verify this information. I felt the need to apply the scientific method, which I had rigorously used over the past fifteen years in my research, to evaluate this most unusual material emerging from Catherine’s lips. Between sessions Catherine herself was becoming

increasingly more psychic. She had intuitions about people and events that proved to be true. During the hypnosis, she had begun to

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Brian L. Weiss, M.D.

anticipate my questions before I had a chance to ask them. Many of her dreams

had a precognitive, or foretelling, bent. On one occasion, when her parents came to visit her, her father expressed tremendous doubt about what was happening . To prove to him that it was true, she took him to the racetrack. There, right before his eyes, she proceeded to pick the winner of every race. He was

stunned. Once she knew that she had proved her point, she took all of the money that she had won and gave it to the first poor streetperson she met on her way out of the track. She intuitively felt that the new spiritual powers she had gained should not be used for financial reward. For her, they had a much

higher meaning. She told me that this experience was a little frightening to her, but she was so pleased with the progress she had made that she was eager to continue with the regressions. I was both shocked and fascinated by her psychic abilities, especially the episode at the race track. This was tangible

proof. She had the winning ticket to every race. This was no coincidence. Something very odd was happening over these past several weeks, and I struggled to keep my perspective. I could not deny her psychic abilities. And if these abilities were real and could produce tangible proofs, could her recitations

of past-life events also be true? Now she returned to the lifetime in which she had just been born. This incarnation seemed to be more recent, but she could not identify a year. Her name was Elizabeth, I’m older now, with a brother and two sisters. I see the dinner table. . . . My father

is there . . . he’s Edward [the pediatrician, back for an encore performance as her father], My mother and father are fighting again. The food is potatoes and beans. He’s mad because the food is cold. They fight a lot. He’s always drinking. … He hits my mother. [Catherine’s voice was frightened, and she was trembling visibly.] He pushes the

kids. He’s not like he was before, not the same

Many Lives, Many Masters 45

person. I don’t like him. I wish he would go away." She was speaking as a child would speak. My questioning of her during these sessions was certainly

very different from what I used in conventional psychotherapy. I acted more as a guide with Catherine, trying to review an entire lifetime in an hour or two, searching for traumatic events and harmful patterns that might explain her currentday symptoms. Conventional therapy is conducted at a much more detailed and

leisurely pace. Every word chosen by the patient is analyzed for nuances and hidden meanings. Every facial gesture, every bodily movement, every inflection of the voice is considered and evaluated. Every emotional reaction is carefully scrutinized. Behavior patterns are painstakingly pieced

together. With Catherine, however, years could whir by in minutes. Catherine’s sessions were like driving the Indy 500 at full throttle . . . and trying to pick out faces in the crowd.

I returned my attention to Catherine and asked her to advance in time.

I’m married now. Our house has one big room. My husband has blond hair. I don’t know him. [That is, he has not appeared in Catherine’s present lifetime.] We have no children yet. . . . He’s very nice to me. We love each other, and we’re happy." Apparently she had successfully escaped from the oppression in her parental

home. I asked if she could identify the area in which she lived. Brennington? ‘r Catherine whispered hesitatingly. “I see books with funny old covers. The big one closes with a strap. It’s the Bible. There are big fancy letters . . . Gaelic lan gauge."

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Brian L. Weiss,

Here she said some words I could not identify. Whether they were Gaelic or not, I have no idea, We live inland, not near the sea. County . . . Brennington? I see a farm with pigs and lambs. This is our farm." She had gone ahead in time. “We have two boys. . . . The older is getting married. I

can see the church steeple … a very old stone building." Suddenly her head hurt, and Catherine was in pain, clutching her left temple area. She reported that she had fallen on the stone steps, but she recovered. She died of old age, in her bed at home with her family around. She again floated out

floated out of her body after her death, but this time she was not perplexed or confused. I am aware of a bright light. It’s wonderful; you get energy from this light." She was resting, after death, in between lifetimes. Minutes passed in silence. Suddenly she spoke, but not in the slow whisper she had always used

previously. Her voice was now husky and loud, without hesitation. Our task is to learn, to become God-like through knowl edge. We know so little. You are here to be my teacher, I have so much to learn. By knowledge we approach God, and then we can rest. Then we come back to teach and help others."

I was speechless. Here was a lesson from after her death, from the in-between state. What was the source o f this material ? This did not sound at all like Catherine. She had never spoken like this, using these words, this phraseology. Even the tone of her voice was totally different. At that moment I did not

realize that although Catherine had uttered the words, she had not originated the thoughts. She was relaying what was being said to her. She later identified the Masters, highly evolved souls not presently in body, as the source. They could speak to me through her. Not only could Catherine be regressed to past

lifetimes, but now she
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Many Lives, Many Masters

could channel knowledge from the beyond. Beautiful knowl edge. I struggled to retain my objectivity.

A new dimension had been introduced. Catherine

had never read the studies of Dr. Elisabeth KublerRoss or Dr. Raymond Moody, who have both written about near-death experiences. She had never heard of the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Yet she was relating similar experiences to those described in these writings. This was a proof of

sorts. If only there were more facts, more tangible details I could verify. My skepticism fluctuated , yet remained. Maybe she had read about near-death research in a magazine article or had seen an interview on a television show. Although she denied any conscious remembrance of such an article or show,

perhaps she retained a sub conscious memory. But she went beyond these previous writings and transmitted a message back from this inbetween state. If only I had more facts. After she awakened, Catherine remembered the details of her past lives, as always. However,

she could not remember anything that happened after her death as Elizabeth. In the future she would never remember any details of the inbetween states. She could only remember the lifetimes. By knowledge we approach God." We were on our way.

CHAPTER 4
see a square white house with a sandy road in front. People on horses are going back and forth." Catherine was speaking in her usual dreamy whisper. “There are trees … a plantation , a big house with a bunch of smaller houses, like slave houses.

I

It’s very hot. It’s in the South . . . Virginia? " She thought the date was 1873. She was a child. There are horses and lots of crops . . . corn, tobacco." She and the other servants ate in a kitchen of the big house. She was black, and her name was Abby. She felt a foreboding, and her body tensed. The main

house was on fire, and she watched it burn down. I progressed her fifteen years in time to 1888. I’m wearing an old dress, cleaning a mirror on the second floor of a house, a brick house with windows . . . with lots of panes. The mirror is wavy, not straight, and it has knobs on the end. The man who owns

the house is named James Man-son. He has a funny coat with three buttons and a big black collar. He has a beard. … I don’t recognize him [as someone in Catherine’s present lifetime]. He treats me well. I live in a house on the property. I clean the rooms. There is a schoolhouse on the property, but I’m not

allowed in the school. I make butter, too!" Catherine was whispering slowly, using very simple terms 52 Brian L, Weiss, M.D.

and paying great attention to detail. Over the next five minutes, I learned how to make butter. Abby’s knowledge

knowledge of churning butter was new to Catherine, too. I moved her ahead in time, I am with somebody, but I don’t think we are married. We sleep together . . . but we don’t always live together. I feel okay about him, but nothing special. I don’t see any children. There are apple trees and ducks. Other

people are in the distance. I’m picking apples. Something is making my eyes itch." Catherine was grimacing with her eyes closed. “It’s the smoke. The wind is blowing it this way … the smoke from burning wood. They’re burning up wooden barrels." She was coughing now. “It happens a lot. They’re making the inside of

the barrels black … tar … to waterproof."

After the excitement of last week’s session, I was eager to reach the inbetween state again. We had already spent ninety minutes exploring her lifetime as a s e rv a n t. I had learned about bedspreads, butter, and barrels; I was hungry for a more spiritual

spiritual lesson. Forsaking my patience, I advanced her to her death. It’s hard to breathe. My chest hurts so much." Catherine was gasping, in obvious pain. “My heart hurts; it’s beating fast. I’m so cold . . . my body’s shaking." Catherine began to shiver. “People are in the room, giving me leaves to drink [a

tea]. It smells funny. They’re rubbing a liniment on my chest. Fever . . . but I feel very cold." She quietly died. Floating up to the ceiling, she could see her body in the bed, a small, shriveled woman in her sixties. She was just floating, waiting for someone to come and help her. She became aware of a light, feeling

herself drawn toward it. The light was be coming brighter, and more luminous. We waited in silence as minutes slowly passed. Suddenly she was in another lifetime, thousands of years before Abby.

Many Lives, Many Masters 53

Catherine was softly whispering,

"I see lots of garlic, hanging in an open room. I ca n smell it. It is believed to kill many evils in the blood and to cleanse the body, but you must take it every day. The garlic is outside too, on top of a garden. Other herbs are there . . . figs, dates, and other herbs. These plants help you. My mother is buying

garlic and the other herbs. Somebody in the house is sick. These are strange roots. Some times you just keep them in your mouth, or ears, or other openings . You just keep them in. I see an old man with a beard. He’s one of the healers in the village. He tells you what to do. There is

some type of … plague . . . killing the people. They’re not embalming because they’re afraid of the disease. People are just buried. The people are unhappy about this. They feel the soul cannot pass on this way {contrary to Catherine’s after-death reports]. But so many have died. The cattle are

dying, too. Water . . . floods . . . people are sick because of the floods. [She apparently just realized this bit of epidemiology .] I also have some disease from the water. It makes your stomach hurt. The disease is of the bowel and stomach. You lose so much water from the body. I’m by the water to bring more

back, but that’s what is killing us. I bring the water back. I see my mother and brothers. My father has already died. My brothers are very sick." I paused before progressing her in time. I was fascinated by the way her conceptions of death and the afterlife changed so much from lifetime to

lifetime. And yet her experience of death itself was so uniform, so similar, every time. A conscious part of her would leave the body around the moment of death, floating above and ‘then being drawn to a wonderful, energizing light. She would then wait for someone to come and help her. The soul

automatically passed on. Embalming, burial rituals, or any other procedure after death had nothing to do 54 Brian L. Weiss, M.D.

with it. It was automatic, no preparation necessary, like walking through a justopened door.

The land is barren and dry. … I see no mountains around here, just land, very flat and dry. One of my brothers has died. I’m feeling better, but the pain is still there." However, she did not live much longer. “I’m lying on a pallet with some type of covering." She was very ill, and no amount of

garlic or other herbs could prevent her death. Soon she was floating above her body, drawn to the familiar light. She waited patiently for someone to come to her. Her head began to roll slowly from side to side, as if she were scanning some scene. Her

voice was again husky and loud.

They tell me there are many gods, for God is in each of us."

I recognized the voice from the inbetweenlives state by its huskiness as well as by the decidedly spiritual tone of the message. What she

said next left me breathless, pulling the air from my lungs. Your father is here, and your son, who is a small child. Your father says you will know him because his name is Avrom, and your daughter is named after him. Also, his death was due to his heart. Your son’s heart was

also important, for it was backward, like a chicken’s. He made a great sacrifice for you out of his love. His soul is very advanced. . . , His death satisfied his parents’ debts. Also he wanted to show you that medicine could only go so far, that its scope is very limited."

Catherine stopped speaking, and I sat in an awed silence as my numbed mind tried to sort things out. The room felt icy cold. Catherine knew very little about my personal life. On my

Many Lives, Many Masters

55

desk I had a baby picture of my daughter, grinning happily with her two bottom baby teeth in an otherwise empty mouth. My son’s picture was next to it. Otherwise Catherine knew virtually nothing about my family or my personal

history. I had been well schooled in traditional psychotherapeutic techniques . The therapist was supposed to be a tabula rasa, a blank tablet upon which the patient could project her own feelings, thoughts, and attitudes. These then could be analyzed by the

therapist, enlarging the arena of the patient’s mind. I had kept this therapeutic distance with Catherine. She really knew me only as a psychiatrist, nothing of my past or of my private life. I had never even displayed my diplomas in the office. The greatest tragedy in my life had been

had been the unexpected death of our firstborn son, Adam, who was only twentythree days old when he died, early in 1971. About ten days after we had brought him home from the hospital, he had developed respiratory problems and projectile vomiting. The diagnosis was

extremely difficult to make. “Total anomalous pulmonary venous drainage with an atrial septal defect," we were told. “It occurs once in approximately every ten million births." The pulmonary veins, which were supposed to bring oxygenated blood back to the heart, were

incorrectly routed, entering the heart on the wrong side. It was as if his heart were turned around, backward. Extremely, extremely rare. Heroic open-heart surgery could not save Adam, who died several days later. We mourned for months, our hopes and dreams

dreams dashed. Our son, Jordan, was born a year later, a grateful balm for our wounds. At the time of Adam’s death, I had been wavering about my earlier choice of psychiatry as a career. I was enjoying my internship in internal medicine, and I had been

offered a residency position in medicine. After Adam’s death, I firmly de-

56
Brian L. Weiss, M.D. .57 Many Lives, Many Masters cided that I would make psychiatry my profession. I was angry that modern

medicine, with all of its advanced skills and technology , could not save my son, this simple, tiny baby. My father had been in excellent health until he experienced a massive heart attack early in 1979, at the age of sixtyone. He survived the initial attack, but his

heart wall had been irretrievably damaged, and he died three days later. This was about nine months before Catherine’s first appointment.

My father had been a religious man, more ritualistic than spiritual. His Hebrew name, Avrom, suited

him better than the English, Alvin. Four months after his death, our daughter, Amy, was born, and she was named after him. Here, in 1982, in my quiet, darkened office, a deafening cascade of hidden, secret truths was pouring upon me. I was swimming in a spiritual sea, and I

loved the water. My arms were gooseflesh. Catherine could not possibly know this information . There was no place even to look it up. My father’s Hebrew name, that I had a son who died in infancy from a one-in-ten million heart defect, my brooding about medicine, my father’s death, and my daughter’s naming 鈥攊t was

too much, too specific, too true. This unsophisticated laboratory technician was a conduit for transcendental knowledge. And if she could reveal these truths, what else was there? I needed to know more. Who," I sputtered, “who is there? Who tells you these things?" The

Masters," she whispered, “the Master Spirits tell me. They tell me I have lived eighty-six times in physical state." Catherine’s breathing slowed, and her head stopped rolling from side to side. She was resting. I wanted to go on, but the implications of what she had said were distracting me. Did

she really have eighty-six previous lifetimes? And what about “the Masters"? Could it be? Could our lives be guided by spirits who have no physical bodies but who seem to possess great knowledge. Are there steps on the way to God? Was this real? I found it difficult to doubt, in view of what she

had just revealed, yet I still struggled to believe. I was overcoming years of alternative programming. But in my head and my heart and my gut, I knew she was right. She was revealing truths. And what about my father and my son? In a sense, they were still alive; they had never really died. They were talking to

me, years after their burials, and proving it by providing specific, very secret information. And since all that was true, was my son as advanced spiritually as Catherine had said? Did he indeed agree to be born to us and then die twentythree days later in order to help us with our karmic

debts and, in addition, to teach me about medicine and humankind, to nudge me back to psychiatry? I was very heartened by these thoughts. Beneath my chill, I felt a great love stirring, a strong feeling of oneness and connection with the heavens and the earth. I had missed my father and my son. It was good to hear

from them again.

My life would never be the same again. A hand had reached down and irreversibly altered the course of my life. All of my reading, which had been done with careful scrutiny a n d skep tical detachment, fell into place. Catherine’s memories and messages

were true. My intuitions about the accuracy of her experiences had been correct. I had the facts. I had the proof. Yet, even in that very instant of joy and understanding, even in that moment of the mystical experience, the old and familiar logical and doubting part of my mind lodged an objection

. Perhaps it’s just ESP or some psychic skill. Granted, it’s quite a skill, but it doesn’t prove reincarnation or Master Spirits. Yet this time I knew better. The thousands of cases 58 Brian L Weiss, M.D.

recorded in the scientific literature, especially those of children speaking

foreign languages to which they had never been ex posed, of having birthmarks at the site of previous mortal wounds, of these same children knowing where treasured objects were hidden or buried thousands of miles away and decades or centuries earlier, all echoed Catherine’s message. I knew Catherine’s

character and her mind. I knew what she was and what she wasn’t. No, my mind could not fool me this time. The proof was too strong and too overwhelming. This was real. She would verify more and more as our sessions progressed.

At times over the succeeding weeks I would forget the power and

immediacy of this session. At times I would fall back into the rut of everyday life, worrying about the usual things. Doubts would surface. It was as if my mind, when not focused, tended to drift back into the old patterns, beliefs, and skepticism. But then I would remind myself 鈥攖his actually happened ! I

appreciated how difficult it is to believe these concepts without having personal experience. The experience is necessary to add emotional belief to intellectual understanding. But the impact of experience always fades to some degree. At first, I was not aware of why I was changing so much. I knew I was more

calm and patient, and others were telling me how peaceful I looked, how I seemed more rested and happier. I felt more hope, more joy, more purpose, and more satisfaction in my life. It dawned on me that I was losing the fear of death. I wasn’t afraid of my own death or of nonexistence. I was less afraid of

losing others, even though I would certainly miss them. How powerful the fear of death is. People go to such great lengths to avoid the fear: midlife crises, affairs with younger people, cosmetic surgeries, exercise obsessions , accumulating material possessions, procreating to carry on a name, striving to be more

and more youthful, and so on.

Many Lives, Many Masters 59

We are frightfully concerned with our own deaths, sometimes so much so that we forget the real purpose of our lives. I was also becoming less obsessive. I didn’t need to be

in control all the time. Although I was trying to become less serious, this transformation was difficult for me, I still had much to learn. My mind was indeed now open to the possibility, even the probability, that Catherine’s utterances were real. The incredible facts about my father and my son

could not be obtained through the usual senses. Her knowledge and abilities certainly proved an outstanding psychic ability. It made sense to believe her, but I remained wary and skeptical about what I read in the popular literature. Who are these people reporting psychic phenomena, life after

death, and other amazing paranormal events? Are they trained in the scientific method of observation and validation? Despite my overwhelming and wonderful experience with Catherine, I knew my naturally critical mind would continue to scrutinize every new fact, every piece of information. I would

check to see if it fit into the framework being built with every session. I would examine it from every angle, with a scientist’s microscope. And yet I could no longer deny that the framework was already there.

CHAPTER 5

w e
were in still the

middle of the session. Catherine ended her rest and began talking about green statues in front of a temple. I roused myself from my reverie arid listened. She was in an ancient lifetime, somewhere in Asia, but I was still with the Masters. Incredible, I thought to myself. She’s

talking about previous lifetimes, about reincarnation, and yet com pared to hearing messages from the Masters, it feels anticlimactic. I was already realizing, however, that she had to go through a lifetime before she could leave her body and reach the in-between state. She could not reach this

state directly. And it was only there that she could reach the Masters. The green statues are in front of a large temple building," she whispered softly, “a building with peaks and brown balls. There are seventeen steps in front, and there is a room after you climb the steps. Incense is burning. Nobody

has shoes. Their heads are shaven. They have round faces and dark eyes. They are dark skinned. I am there. I have hurt my foot and have gone there for help. My foot is swollen; I can’t step on it. Something is stuck in my foot. They put some leaves on my foot . . . strange leaves . . . Tannis? [Tannin, or tannic acid, which

occurs naturally in the roots, wood, bark, leaves, and fruit of many plants, has been used since ancient times as a medicine because of its styptic or astringent properties. First

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Brian L. Weiss, M.D,

my foot was cleansed. This is a ritual before the gods.

There is some poison in my foot. I stepped on something. My knee is swollen. My leg is heavy with streaks on it [blood poisoning? ]. They cut a hole in the foot and put something very hot on it." Catherine was now writhing in pain. She was also gagging from some terribly bitter potion that she was given to drink. The potion was made from yellow

leaves. She healed, but the bones in her foot and her leg were never the same again. I progressed her in time. She saw only a bleak and povertystricken life. She lived with her family in a small one-room hut without a table. They ate some kind of rice, like a cereal, but they were always hungry. She aged rapidly, never escaping

the poverty or the hunger, and she died. I waited, but I could see Catherine’s exhaustion. Before I could awaken her, how ever, she told me that Robert Jarrod needed my help. I had no idea who Robert Jarrod was, or how I could help him. There was no more. After awakening from the

from the trance, Catherine again remembered many of the details of her past-life recall. She remembered nothing at all of the afterdeath experiences, nothing from the in-between state, nothing of the Masters or of the incredible knowledge that had been revealed. I asked her a question. Catherine, what does the term ‘Masters’ mean to

you?" She thought this was a golf tournament! She was improving rapidly now, but she still had difficulty integrating the concept of reincarnation into her theology. Therefore, I decided not to tell her about the Masters yet. Besides, I wasn’t sure how you broke the news to someone that she was an incredibly talented

trance medium who could channel wonderful, transcendental knowledge from the Master Spirits. Catherine agreed to allow my wife to attend the next session . Carole is a welltrained, highly skilled psychiatric social

Many Lives, Many Masters 65

worker, and I wanted her opinion about these incredible happenings . After I told her what Catherine had said about my father and our son, Adam, she was eager to help. I had no trouble taking notes of every word from the lifetimes when Catherine whispered quite

slowly, but the Masters spoke much more quickly, and I decided to taperecord everything.

One week later Catherine came in for her next session. She continued to improve, with diminished fears and anxieties. Her clinical improvement was definite, but I still was not sure why

she was so much better. She had remembered drowning as Aronda, having her throat slashed as Johan, being a victim of a waterborne epidemic as Louisa, and other terrifyingly traumatic events. She had also experienced or reexperienced lifetimes of poverty and servitude and of abuse within her family. The

latter are examples of the dayin and dayout minitraumas that also get ground into our psyches. The remembrance of both types of lifetimes could be contributing to her improvement . But another possibility existed. Could the spiritual experience itself be helping? Could the knowledge that death is not what it appears to

be contribute to a sense of wellbeing, of diminution of fears? Could the entirE process, not just the memories themselves, be part of the cure? Catherine’s psychic abilities were increasing, and she was becoming even more intuitive. She still had problems with Stuart, but she felt able to

cope with him more effectively. Her eyes sparkled; her skin glowed. She had had a strange dream during the week, she announced, but she could only remember a fragment of it. She had dreamed that the red fin of a fish was embedded in her hand. She went under quickly and easily, reaching a

reaching a deep level of hypnosis within minutes. I see some type of cliffs. I’m standing on the cliffs, looking down. I should be looking for ships 鈥攖hat’s what I’m supposed

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Masters to be doing. . . . I’m wearing something blue, a blue type of pants . . . short pants with strange shoes . . . black shoes . . . and they buckle. The shoes have buckles, very funny shoes. … I see on the horizon there are no ships." Catherine was whispering softly. I progressed her in time to the next significant

event in her life. We’re drinking ale, stout ale. It’s very dark. The tankards are thick. They’re old, put together with metal stays. It’s very foulsmelling in this place, and many people are in there. It’s very loud. Everybody is talking, very noisy." I asked her if she could hear anybody calling her

name. “Christian … Christian is my name." She was a male again. “We’re just eating some type of meat and drinking ale. It’s dark and very bittertasting. They put salt on it." She could not see a year. “They’re talking about a war, about ships blockading some ports! But I can’t hear

can’t hear where it is. If they would be quiet, we could hear, but everyone’s talking and noisy." I asked her where she was. “Hamstead … Hamstead [phonetic spelling]. It’s a port, a seaport in Wales. They’re talking British." She went ahead in time to when Christian was on his ship. “I can smell something, something

burning. It’s a terrible smell. Burning wood, but also something else. It burns your nose. . . . Something in the distance is on fire, some type of vessel, a sailing vessel. We’re loading! We’re loading something with gunpowder." Catherine was becoming visibly agitated. It’s something

with gunpowder, very black. It sticks to your hands. You have to move fast. The ship has a green flag on it. The flag is dark. . . . It’s a green and yellow flag. There is some type of crown with three points on it." Suddenly Catherine grimaced with pain. She was in agony. “Uh," she grunted, “the pain in my hand, the

hand, the pain in my hand!

There’s some metal, hot metal in my hand. It’s burning me! Oh! Oh!" I remembered the dream fragment and understood now about the red fin embedded in her hand. I blocked the pain, but she was still moaning. The splinters are metal. .

. . The ship we were on was destroyed … the port side. They have the fire under control. Many men have been killed . . . many men. I have survived . . . only my hand is hurt, but it heals with time." I took her ahead in time, letting her pick out the next significant event. I see some type of printshop , printing

something with blocks and ink. They’re printing and binding books. . . . The books have leather covers and strings holding them together, leather strings. I see a red book. . . . It’s something about history. I can’t see the title; they haven’t finished the printing. The books are

wonderful. Their covers are so smooth, the leather. They’re wonderful books; they teach you." Obviously Christian enjoyed seeing and touching the books, and he dimly realized the potential of learning this way. He seemed to be largely uneducated, however. I progressed Christian to the last

day of his life. – I see a bridge over a river. I’m an old man . . . very old. It’s difficult to walk. I’m walking over the bridge … to the other side. … I feel pain in my chest 鈥攑ressure, terrible pressure 鈥攑ain in my chest! Oh!" Catherine was making gurgling sounds, experiencing the apparent

heart attack that Christian was having on the bridge. Her breathing was rapid and shallow; her face and neck were covered with sweat. She began to cough and to gasp for air. I was concerned. Was reexperiencing a heart attack from a previous lifetime dangerous ? This was a new frontier; nobody

knew the answers. Finally, Christian died. Catherine was now lying peacefully

68 69
Brian L, Weiss, M.D, Many Lives, Many Masters on the couch, breathing deeply and evenly. I let out a deep sigh of relief.

I feel free . . . free," Catherine gently whispered. “I’m just floating in darkness . . . just floating. There is a light around . . . and spirits, other people." I asked if she had any thoughts about the lifetime that had just ended, her life as Christian,

I should have

been more forgiving, but I wasn’t. I did not forgive the wrongs that people did to me, and I should have. I didn’t forgive the wrongs. I held them inside, and I harbored them for many years. … I see eyes . , . eyes." Eyes? “I echoed, sensing the contact. “What

kind of eyes?" The eyes of the Master Spirits," Catherine whispered, “but I must wait. I have things to think about." Minutes passed in tense silence. How will you know when they are ready," I asked expectantly , breaking the long silence. They

will call me," she answered. More minutes passed. Then, suddenly, her head began to roll from side to side, and her voice, hoarse and firm, signaled the change. There are many souls in this dimension. I am not the only one. We must be patient. That is something I never learned either. . . . There are

many dimensions. …" I asked her whether she had been here before, whether she had reincarnated many times. I have been to different planes at different times. Each one is a level of higher consciousness. What plane we go to depends upon how far we’ve progressed. . . ." She was silent again. I asked her

what lessons she had to learn in order to progress. She answered immediately.

That we must share our knowledge with other people. That we all have abilities far beyond what we use. Some of us find this out sooner than others. That you should check your vices 鈥?before you come

to this point. If you do not, you carry them over with you to another life. Only we can rid ourselves . . . of the bad habits that we accumulate when we are in a physical state. The Masters cannot do that for us. If you choose to fight and not to rid yourself, then you will carry them over into another life. And only when

you decide that you are strong enough to master the external problems, then you will no longer have them in your next life. We also must learn not to just go to those people whose vibrations are the same as ours. It is normal to feel drawn to somebody who is on the same level that

you are. But this is wrong. You must also go to those people whose vibrations are wrong . . . with yours. This is the importance … in helping . . . these people. We are given intuitive powers we should follow and not try to resist. Those who resist will meet with danger.

We are not sent back from each plane with equal powers. Some of us possess powers greater than others, because they have been accrued from other times. Thus people are not all created equal. But eventually we will reach a point where we will all be equal."

Catherine paused. I knew these thoughts were not hers. She had no background in physics or metaphysics; she knew nothing about planes and dimensions and vibrations. But beyond that, the beauty of the words and thoughts, the philosophical implications of these utterings 鈥攖hese were all

beyond Catherine’s capabilities. She had never talked in such a concise, poetic manner. I could feel another, higher force struggling with her mind and vocal cords to translate these thoughts into words, so that I could understand. No, this was not Catherine.

Her voice had a dreamy tone. People who are in comas … are in a state of suspension. They are not ready yet to cross into the other plane . . . until
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they have decided whether they want to cross or not. Only they can decide this. If they feel

they have no more learning . . . in physical state . . . then they are allowed to cross over. B u t jf they have more learning, then they must come back, even if they do not want to. That is a rest period for them, a time when their mental powers can rest." So people in comas can decide whether or not to

return, depending upon how much learning they have yet to accomplish in the physical state. If they feel there is nothing further to learn, they can go directly to the spiritual state, modern medicine notwithstanding. This information meshed nicely with the research being published about near-death experiences , and why

some people chose to return. Others were not given the choice; they had to return because there was more to learn. Of course, all of the people interviewed about their near-death experiences returned to their bodies. There is a striking similarity in their stories. They become detached from their bodies and “watch" resuscitation

efforts from a point above their bodies. They eventually become aware of a bright light or a glowing “spiritual" figure in the distance, sometimes at the end of a tunnel. They feel no pain. As they become aware that their tasks on earth are not yet completed, and they must return to their bodies, they are

immediately rejoined to their bodies and once again are aware of pain and other physical sensations.

I have had several patients with neardeath experiences. The most interesting account was that of a successful South American businessman who was seen by me for several

sessions of conventional psychotherapy about two years after Catherine’s treatment ended. Jacob had been run over and knocked unconscious by a motorcycle in Holland in 1975, when he was in his early thirties. He remembers floating above his body and looking down at the scene of the accident, taking note of the am-

Many Lives, Many Masters 71

bulance, the doctor attending his injuries, and the growing crowd of onlookers. He became aware of a golden light in the distance, and as he approached it, he saw a monk wearing a brown robe. The monk told Jacob that this was not his

time to pass over, that he had to return to his body. Jacob felt the wisdom and power of the monk, who also related several future events in Jacob’s life, all of which later occurred. Jacob was whooshed back into his body, now in a hospital bed, regained consciousness, and, for the first time, became aware of excruciating

pain. In 1980, while traveling in Israel, Jacob, who is Jewish, visited the Cave of the Patriarchs in Hebron, which is a holy site to both Jews and Muslims. After his experience in Hol land, he had become more religious and had begun to pray more often. He saw the

saw the nearby mosque and sat down to pray with the Muslims there. After a while, he rose to leave. An old Muslim man came up to him and said, “You are different from the others. They very rarely sit down to pray with us." The old man paused for a moment, looking closely at

Jacob before continuing. “You have met the monk. Do not forget what he has told you." Five years after the accident and thou sands of miles distant, an old man knew about Jacob’s en- counter with the monk, an encounter that happened while Jacob had been unconscious.

unconscious.

In the office, pondering Catherine’s latest revelations, I wondered what our Founding Fathers would have thought about the proposition that all humans are not created equal. People are born with talents, abilities, and powers

accrued from other lifetimes. “But eventually we will reach a point where we will all be equal." I suspected that this point was many, many life times distant. 73 Many Lives, Many Masters

I’m very restless being here. I do

want to go. … When the time is right, I will go." Again, minutes silently passed. Finally the time must have been right. She had fallen into another lifetime. – I see apple trees _. . and a house, a white house. I live in the house. The apples are rotten . . . worms, no good to eat. There is a swing, a swing on the tree." I asked her

to look at herself. I have light hair, blond hair; I’m five years old. My name is Catherine." I was surprised. She had entered her present lifetime; she was Catherine at age five. But she must be there for some reason. “Did something happen there, Catherine? " My

father is angry-at us … ’cause we’re not supposed to be outside. ‘He . . . he’s hitting me with a stick. It’s very heavy; it hurts. . . . I’m afraid." She was whining, speaking like a child. “He won’t stop till he’s hurt us. Why does he do this to us? Why is he so mean?" I asked her to see her life from a higher perspective

and to answer her own questions. I had recently read about people being able to do this. Some writers called this perspective one’s Higher Self or Greater Self. I was curious whether Catherine could reach this state, if it existed. If she could, this would be a powerful therapeutic technique, a shortcut to insight

and understanding.

He never wanted us," she whispered very softly. “He feels we’re an intrusion in his life. . . . He doesn’t want us." Your brother, too?" I asked. Yes, my brother even more. They never planned for my brother. They weren’t

married when … he was conceived." This proved to be startling new information for Catherine. She had never known about the premarital pregnancy. Her mother later confirmed the accuracy of Catherine’s revelation. Although she was recounting a lifetime, Catherine now

exhibited a wisdom and a perspective about her life that had

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previously been restricted to the inbetween, or spiritual, state. Somehow there was a “higher" part of her mind, a sort of superconscious . Perhaps this was the Higher Self that others

have described. Although not in contact with the Masters and their spectacular knowledge, nevertheless, in her superconscious state she possessed profound insights and information, such as her brother’s conception. The conscious Catherine, when awake, was much more anxious and limited, much simpler

and comparatively superficial. She could not tap into this superconscious state. I wondered if the prophets and sages of Eastern and Western religions, those called “actualized," were able to utilize this superconscious state to obtain their wisdom and knowledge. If so, then we all had the ability to do so, for we must all

possess this superconscious . The psychoanalyst Carl Jung was aware of the different levels of consciousness. He wrote about the collective unconscious, a state with similarities to Catherine’s superconscious.

I would become increasingly frustrated by the uncrossable gulf between Catherine’s conscious, awake

intellect and her trancelevel superconscious mind. While she was hypnotized, I would have fascinating philosophical dialogues with her at the superconscious level. When awake, however, Catherine had no interest in philosophy or related matters. She lived in the world of everyday detail, oblivious of the genius within

her. Meanwhile, her father was tormenting her, and the reasons were becoming evident. “He has many lessons to learn," I stated in a questioning way. Yes … so he does." I asked her if she knew what he had to learn. “This knowl edge is not revealed to me." Her

tone was detached, distant. “What is revealed to me is what is important to me, what con- Many Lives, Many Masters 75

cerns me. Each person must be concerned with himor herself . . . with making himor herself . . . whole. We have lessons to learn . . . each one of us. They must

be learned one at a time … in order. Only then can we know what the next person needs, what he or she lacks or what we lack, to make us whole." She spoke in a soft whisper, and her whisper conveyed a feeling of loving detachment.

When Catherine spoke again, the childlike voice had returned.

"He’s making me sick! He’s making me eat this stuff that I don’t want. It’s some food . . . lettuce, onions, stuff I hate. He’s making me eat it, and he knows I’m gonna be sick. But he doesn’t care!" Catherine began to gag. She was gasping for air. I again suggested that she view the scene from a higher perspective,

that she needed to understand why her father acted this way. Catherine spoke in a raspy whisper. “It must fill some void in him. He hates me because of what he did. He hates me for that, and he hates himself." I had nearly forgotten about the sexual assault when she was three years old. “So he must

punish me. … I must have done something to make him do that." She was only three years old, and her father was drunk. Yet she had carried this guilt deep within her ever since. I ex-/ plained the obvious. You were just a baby. You must now relieve yourself of this guilt. You didn’t do anything. What

could a three-yearold do? It wasn’t you; it was your father." He must have hated me then, too," she gently whispered. “I knew him before, but I cannot draw on that information now. I must go back to that time." Although several hours had already passed, I wanted to go back to their previous

relation ship. I gave her detailed instructions.

You are in a deep state. In a moment I am going to count 76 Brian L, Weiss, M.D.

backward, from three to one. You will be in a deeper state and will feel totally safe. Your mind will be free to

roam back in time again, back to the time when the connection to your fa there in your current life began, back to the time that had the most significant bearing on what happened in your childhood between you and him. When I say ‘one,’ you will go back to that lifetime and remember it. It is important

for your cure. You can do that. Three . . . two . . . one." There was a long pause. I do not see him . . . but I see people being killed!" Her voice became loud and husky. “We have no right to abruptly halt peoples’ lives before they have lived out their karma. And we are doing

it. We have no right. They will suffer greater retribution if we let them live. When they die and go to the next dimension, they will suffer there. They will be left in a very restless state. They will have no peace. And they will be sent back, but their lives will be very hard. And they will have to make up to those people that

they hurt for the injustices that they did against them. They are halting these people’s lives, and they have no right to do that. Only God can punish them, not us. They will be punished."

A minute of silence passed. “They are gone," she whispered. The Master Spirits had given us one more

message today, strong and clear. We are not to kill, no matter what the circumstances . Only God can punish. Catherine was exhausted. I decided to postpone our pursuit of the pastlife connection to her father, and I brought her out of her trance. She remembered nothing except her incarnations

as Christian and as young Catherine. She was tired, yet peaceful and relaxed, as if a huge weight had been lifted from her. My eyes met Carole’s. We were also exhausted. We had shivered and we had sweated, hanging on to every word. We had shared an incredible experience.

CHAPTER 6
I now scheduled Catherine’s weekly sessions at the end of the day, because they were lasting several hours. She still had that peaceful look about her when she came in the following week. She had talked with her father on the phone. Without giving him any

details, she had, in her own way, forgiven him. I had never seen her this serene. I marveled at the rapidity of her progress. It was rare for a patient with such chronic, deepseated anxieties and fears to improve so dramatically. But then, of course, Catherine was hardly an ordinary patient,

and the course her therapy had taken was certainly unique. I see a porcelain doll sitting on some type of mantel." She had quickly fallen into a deep trance. “There are books next to the fireplace on both sides. It’s a room within some house. There are candlesticks next to the doll. And a painting . .

. of the face, the man’s face. It’s him. . . ." She was scanning the room. I asked her what she was seeing. Some type of covering on the floor. It’s fuzzy like it’s . . . it is an animal skin, yes … some type of animalskin covering on the floor. To the right there are two glass doors . . . that lead out onto the

veranda. There are four steps 鈥攃olumns on the front of the house 鈥攆our steps down. They lead out to a path. Big trees are all around. . . . There are some horses

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Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters

81

outside. The horses are bridled … to some posts that are sitting out front." Do you know where this is?" I inquired. Catherine took a deep breath. I don’t see a name," she whispered, “but the year, the year must be somewhere.

It’s the eighteenth century, but I don’t . . . there are trees and yellow flowers, very pretty yellow flowers." She was distracted by these flowers. “They smell wonderful; they smell sweet, the flowers . . . strange flowers, big flowers . . . yellow flowers with black centers in them." She

paused, remaining among the flowers. I was re minded of a field of sunflowers in the south of France. I asked her about the climate. It’s very temperate, but it’s not breezy. It’s neither hot nor cold." We were not making any progress in identifying the locale.

I rook her back into the house, away from the fascinating yellow flowers, and I asked her whose portrait was above the mantel. I can’t … I keep hearing Aaron … his name is Aaron." I asked if he owned the house. “No, his son does. I work there." Once again she was cast as a

servant. She had never even remotely approached the status of a Cleopatra or a Napoleon. Doubters of reincarnation, including my own scientifically trained self until the past two months, often point to the much higher than expected frequency of incarnations as famous people.

Now I found myself in the most unusual position of having reincarnation being proved scientifically right in my offices in the Department of Psychiatry. And much more than reincarnation was being revealed. My leg is very . . ." Catherine continued, “very heavy. It hurts. It almost feels like it’s not there. . . .

My leg is hurt. The horses kicked me." I told her to look at herself. I have brown hair, brown curly hair. I have some type of bonnet on, some type of white bonnet … a blue dress with some type of pinafore on the dress . . . apron. I’m young, but not a child. But my leg

hurts. It just happened. It hurts terribly ." She was visibly in great pain. “Shoe . . . shoe. He kicked me with his shoe. He’s a very, very mean horse." Her voice grew softer as the pain finally subsided. “I can smell the hay, the feed in the barn. There are other people working in the stable area." I

asked about her duties. I was responsible for serving . . . for serving in the big house. I also had something to do with milking the cows." I wanted to know more about the owners. The wife is rather plump, very dowdylooking. And there are two daughters. … I do not know

them," she added, anticipating my next question whether any had appeared yet in Catherine’s current lifetime. I inquired about her own family in the eighteenth century. 鈥 I don’t know; I don’t see them. I don’t see anybody with me." I asked if she lives there. “I lived here, yes, but not in the main

house. Very small . . . the house is provided for us. There are chickens. We gather up the eggs. They’re brown eggs. My house is very small . . . and white . . . one room. I see a man. I live with him. He has very curly hair and blue eyes." I asked if they are married. Not their understanding of

marriage, no." Was she born there? “No, I was brought to the estate when I was very young. My family was very poor." Her mate did not seem familiar. I directed her to move ahead in time to the next significant event in that lifetime. I see something white . . . white with many ribbons on it. Must be

a hat. Some type of bonnet, with feathers and white ribbons." Who is wearing the hat? Is it鈥? She cut me off. The lady of the house, of course." I felt a bit stupid. “It’s 82 Brian L Weiss, M.D.

the marriage of one of

their daughters. The whole estate joined in the celebration." I asked if there was anything in the newspaper about the wedding. If there was, I would have had her look at the date. No, I don’t believe they have newspapers there. I see nothing like that." Documentation was proving difficult to come by in this lifetime.

"Do you see yourself at the wedding?" I asked. She answered quickly, in a loud whisper. We’re not at the wedding. We can only watch the people coming and going. The servants are not allowed." What are you feeling? " Hatred."

Why?

Do they treat you poorly? " Because we are poor," she answered softly, “and we’re bonded to them. And we have so little compared to what they have." Do you ever get to leave the estate? Or do you live out your life there? " She answered wistfully. “I live out my life there."

I could feel her sadness. Her life was both difficult and hopeless. I progressed her to the day of her death. I see a house. I’m lying in bed, lying on the bed. They’re giving me something to drink, something warm. It has a minty odor to it. My chest is very heavy. It’s difficult to breathe. . . . I have pain in my

chest and my back. . . . It’s a bad pain . . . difficult to talk." She was breathing rapidly and shallowly, in great pain. After a few minutes of agony, her face softened, and her body relaxed. Her breathing returned to normal. I have left my body." Her voice was louder and husky. “I see a wonderful

light. . . . There are people coming to me. They are coming to help me. Wonderful people. They are not afraid. … I feel very light. . . ." There was a long pause.

Many Lives, Many Masters 83

Do you have any thoughts about the lifetime you just left?"

That is for later. For now, I just feel the peace. It’s a time of comfort. The party must be comforted. The soul … the soul finds peace here. You leave all the bodily pains behind you. Your soul is peaceful and serene. It’s a wonderful feeling . . . wonderful, like the sun is always shining on you. The

light is so brilliant! Everything conies from the light! Energy comes from this light. Our soul immediately goes there. It’s almost like a magnetic force that we’re attracted to. It’s wonderful. It’s like a power source. It knows how to heal." Does it have a color?" It’s many

colors." She paused, resting in this light. What are you experiencing? “I ventured.

Nothing . . . just peacefulness. You’re among your friends. They are all there. I set many people. Some are familiar; others are not. But we’re there, waiting." She continued

to wait, as minutes slowly passed. I decided to push the pace. I have a question to ask." Of whom," Catherine asked. Somebody 鈥攜ou or the Masters," I hedged. “I think the understanding of this will help us. The question is this: Do we choose the times and the manner of

our birth and our death? Can we choose our situation? Can we choose the time of our passing over again? I think understanding that will ease a lot of your fears. Is there anyone there who can answer that question?" The room felt cold. When Catherine spoke again, her voice was deeper

and more resonant. It was a voice I had never heard before. It was the voice of a poet. Yes, we choose when we will come into our physical state and when we will leave. We know when we have accomplished what we were sent down here to accomplish. We know when the time is up, and you will accept

your death. 84 Brian L. Weiss, M,D.

For you know that you can get nothing more out of this life time. When you have time, when you have had the time to rest and reenergize your soul, you are allowed to choose your reentry back into the physical

state. Those people who hesitate , who are not sure of their return here, they might lose the chance that was given them, a chance to fulfill what they must when they’re in physical state." I knew immediately and completely that this was not Catherine speaking. “Who is speaking

to me," I implored; “who is talking?" Catherine answered in her familiar soft whisper. “I don’t know. The voice of someone very . . . somebody who controls things, but I don’t know who it is. I can only hear his voice and try to tell you what he says." She also knew this knowledge

knowledge was not coming from herself, not from the subconscious, nor from the unconscious. Not even her superconscious self. She was somehow listening to, then conveying to me, the words or thoughts of someone very special, someone who “controls things." Thus another Master had

appeared, different from the one, or several, from whom the previous wisdomladen messages had come. This was a new spirit, with a characteristic voice and style, poetic and serene. This was a Master who spoke about death without any hesitation, yet whose voice and thoughts were steeped with love.

The love felt warm and real, yet detached and universal. It felt blissful, yet not smothering or emotional or binding. It relayed a feeling of loving detachment or detached lovingkindness, and it felt distantly familiar. Catherine’s whisper grew louder. “I have no faith in these people."

No faith in which people?" I queried. In the Masters."

No faith?" Many Lives, Many Masters 85

No, I have lack of faith. That’s why my life has been so difficult. I had no faith in that lifetime."

She was calmly evaluating her eighteenthcentury life. I asked her what she had learned in that lifetime. I learned about anger and resentment, about harboring your feelings toward people. I also had to learn that I have no control over my life. I want control, but I don’t have any. I

must have faith in the Masters. They will guide me through out. But I did not have the faith. I felt like I was doomed from the beginning. I never looked at things very pleasantly. We must have faith … we must have faith. And I doubt. I choose to doubt instead of believe." She paused. What should

you do, and I do, to make ourselves better? Are our paths the same?" I asked. The answer came from the Master who last week had spoken of intuitive powers and of returning from comas. The voice, the style, the tone, were all different from both Catherine’s and from the masculine, poetic Master who had

just spoken. Everybody’s path is basically the same. We all must learn certain attitudes while we’re in physical state. Some of us are quicker to accept them than others. Charity, hope, faith, love … we must all know these things and know them well. It’s not just one hope and one faith

and one love鈥攕o many things feed into each one of these. There are so many ways to demonstrate them. And yet we’ve only tapped into a little bit of each one. . . . People of the religious orders have come closer than any of us have because they’ve taken these vows of chastity and

obedience. They’ve given up so much without asking for anything in return. The rest of us continue to ask for rewardsrewards and justifications for our behavior . . . when there are no rewards, rewards t h a t we want. The reward is in doing, but doing without expecting anything . . . doing unselfishly.

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I have not learned that," Catherine added, in her soft whisper. For a moment I was confused by the word “chastity," but I remembered that the root meant

"pure," referring to a much different state from that of just sexual abstinence.

. . . Not to overindulge," she continued. “Anything done to excess … in excess. . . . You will understand. You really do understand." She paused again. I’m trying," added. Then I I

decided to focus on Catherine . Perhaps the Masters had not yet left. “What can I do to best help Catherine to overcome her fears and anxieties? And to learn her lessons? Is this the best way, or should I change something? Or follow up in a specific area? How can I help her the best?" The

answer came in the deep voice of the poet Master. I leaned forward in my chair. You are doing what is correct. But this is for you, not for her." Once again, the message was that this was for my benefit more than for Catherine’s.

Forme? " Yes. What we

say is for you." Not only was he referring to Catherine in the third person, but he said “we." There were, indeed, several Master Spirits in attendance.

Can I know your names?" I asked, immediately wincing at the mundane nature of my question. “I need guidance. I have so much to

know." The answer was a love poem, a poem about my life and my death. The voice was soft and tender, and I felt the loving detachment of a universal spirit. I listened in awe, You will be guided in time. You will be guided … in time. When you accomplish what you have been sent here

to accomplish, then your life will be ended. But not before then. You have much time ahead of you . . . much time." I was simultaneously anxious and relieved. I was glad he was not more specific. Catherine was becoming restless. She spoke in a small whisper. I’m falling, falling . . . trying to

find my life … falling." She sighed, and I did, too. The Masters were gone. I pondered the miraculous messages, very personalized messages from very spiritual sources. The implications were overwhelming . The light after death and the life after death; our choosing when we are born and when we will die;

the sure and unerring guidance of the Masters; lifetimes measured in lessons learned and tasks fulfilled, not in years; charity, hope, faith, and love; doing without expectations of return 鈥攖his knowledge was for me. But for what purpose? What was I sent here to accomplish?

The dramatic messages and events cascading upon me in the office mirrored deep changes in my personal and family life. The transformation gradually crept into my awareness. For example, I was driving with my son to a college baseball game when we became stuck in a huge

traffic jam. I have always been annoyed by traffic jams, and now we would miss the first inning or two as well. I was aware of not being annoyed. I wasn’t projecting the blame on some incompetent driver. My neck and shoulder muscles were relaxed. I didn’t take out my irritation on my son, and we were passing

the time talking to each other. I became aware of just wanting to spend a happy afternoon with Jordan, watching a game we both enjoy. The goal of the afternoon was to spend time together. If I had become annoyed and angry, the whole outing would have been ruined. I would look at my children

and my wife and wonder if we had been together before. Had we chosen to share the

88 Brian L. Weiss, M.D,

trials and tragedies and joys of this life? Were we ageless? I felt a great love and tenderness toward

them. I realized that their flaws and faults are minor. These are not really so important . Love is. I even found myself overlooking my own flaws, for the same reasons. I didn’t need to try to be perfect or in control all the time. There really was no need to impress anyone. I very that was glad I

could share this experience with Carole. We would often talk after dinner and sort out my feelings and reactions to Catherine’s sessions. Carole has an analytical mind and is very well grounded. She knew how driven I was to pursue the experience with Catherine in a careful,

scientific manner, and she would play the devil’s advocate to help me look at this information objectively. As the critical evidence mounted that Catherine was indeed revealing great truths, Carole felt and shared my apprehensions and my joys.

CHAPTER 7

W
hen Catherine arrived for her next appointment one week later, I was ready to play the tape of last week’s incredible dialogue. After all, she was providing me with celestial poetry in addition to past-life recall. I told her that she had related information from afterdeath experiences,

even though she had no memory at all of the in-between or spiritual state. She was reluctant to listen. Overwhelmingly improved and happier, she had no need to listen to this material. Besides, it was all somewhat “eerie." I prevailed upon her to listen. It was wonderful, beautiful, uplifting,

and it came through her. I wanted to share it with her. She listened to her soft whisper on the tape for only a few minutes, and then she made me turn it off. She said that it was just too weird and made her uncomfortable. Silently, I remembered “this is for you, not for her." I wondered

how long these sessions would continue because she was improving every week. Now only a few ripples remained in her onceturbulent pond. She was still afraid of enclosed places, and the relationship with Stuart was still literally touch and go. Otherwise her progress was remarkable.

We had not had a traditional psychotherapy session for months. None was necessary. We would chat for a few minutes to catch up on the events of the week, then move quickly

91 92 Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters

93 to the hypnotic regression. Whether due to the actual memories of major traumas or daily minitraumas or to the process of reliving the experiences, Catherine was virtually cured. Her phobias and panic attacks had just about disappeared. She had no fear of death or dying.

She was no longer afraid of losing control. Psychiatrists are now using high doses of tranquilizers and antidepressant medicines to treat people with Catherine’s symptoms. In addition to the medicines, the patients are also often in intensive psychotherapy or attending phobia group therapy

sessions. Many psychiatrists believe that symptoms such as Catherine’s have a biological basis, that there are deficiencies in one or several brain chemicals.

As I hypnotized Catherine to a deep trance state, I thought about how remarkable and wonderful it was that in a period

of weeks, without the use of medicines, traditional therapy, or group therapy, she was nearly cured. This was not just the suppression of symptoms nor the gritting of teeth and living through it, a life racked by fears. This was a cure, the absence of symptoms. And she was radiant, serene, and happy beyond

my wildest hopes. Her voice was a soft whisper again. “I’m in a building, something with a domed ceiling. The ceiling is blue and gold. There are other people with me. They’re dressed in … old . . . some type of robe, very old and dirty. I don’t know how we got there. There are many

figures in the room. There are also some pieces, some pieces standing on some stone structure. There’s a large gold figure at one end of the room. He ap pears. . . . He’s very large, with wings. He’s very evil. It’s very hot in the room, very hot. . . . It’s hot because there are no openings into the room. We have to

stay away from the village. There’s something wrong with us." “Are you sick?" “Yes, we are all sick. I don’t know what it is we have, but our skin dies. It becomes very black. I feel very cold. The air is very dry, very stale. We cannot return to the village. We must stay out. Some of the faces

are deformed."

This disease sounded terrible, like leprosy. If she had once had a glamorous lifetime, we had not yet stumbled across it, “How long do you have to stay there?" Forever," she answered gloomily, “until we die. There is no cure for this." Do you

know the name of the illness? What is it called?" No. The skin gets very dry and shrivels up. I have been there for years. There are others who have just arrived. There is no way back. We have been cast out … to die." She suffered a wretched existence,

living in a cave. We must hunt for our food. I see some type of wild beast that we are hunting for … with horns. He’s brown with horns, big horns." ^ Does anybody visit you?" No, they cannot go near or they will suffer from the evil, too. We

have been cursed … for some evil we have done. And this is our punishment." The sands of her theology were constantly shifting in the hourglass of her lives. Only after death, in the spiritual state, was there a welcome and reassuring constancy.

Do you know what

year it is?" We have lost track of time. We are sick; we just await our death." Is there no hope?" I felt the infectious despair. There is no hope. We will all die. And there is much pain in my hands. My whole body is weak. I am old. It is difficult for me to move."

What happens when you cannot move anymore? " You are moved to another cave, and you’re left there to die."

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Brian L. Weiss, M.D.

What do they do with the dead?" They seal the entrance

to the cave." Do they ever seal a cave before the person is dead?" I was searching for a clue to her fear of enclosed places. I do not know. I have never been there. I’m in the room with other people. It’s very hot. I’m against the wall, just lying there."

What is the room for?" It is for the worship … many gods. It’s very hot." I advanced her in time. “I see something white. I see some thing white, some type of canopy. They’re moving somebody."

Is it you?" I don’t

know. I will welcome death. My body is in so much pain." Catherine’s lips were drawn thin in pain, and she was panting because of the heat in the cave. I took her to the day of her death. She was still panting. Is it hard to breathe? “I asked. Yes, so hot in here . . . feels …

so hot, very dark. I can’t see … and I can’t move." She was dying, paralyzed and alone, in the hot, dark cave. The mouth of the cave was already sealed shut. She was frightened and miserable. Her breathing grew more rapid and irregular, and she mercifully died, ending this anguished life. I feel

very light . . . like I’m floating. It’s very bright here. It’s wonderful!"

Ate you in pain?" No!" She paused, and I awaited the Masters. Instead, she was whisked away. “I’m falling very fast. I’m going back to a body!" She seemed as surprised as I was. I see

buildings, buildings with round columns. There are many buildings. We are outside. There are trees 鈥攐live trees鈥?around. It’s very beautiful. We are watching something. . . . Many Lives, Many Masters 95

People have on very funny masks;

these cover their faces. It is some festivities. They’re dressed in long robes, and they have masks that cover their faces. They pretend to be what they’re not. They are on a platform . . . above where we sit." Are you watching a play?" Yes." What do you look

like? Look at yourself."

I have brown hair. My hair is in a braid." She paused. Her description of herself and the presence of olive trees reminded me of Catherine’s Greek-like lifetime fifteen hundred years before Christ, when I was her teacher, Diogenes. I decided to

investigate.

Do you know the date?" No." Are there people with you that you know?" Yes, my husband is sitting next-to ape. I do not know him" {in her present lifetime. Do you have children?

" I am with child now." Her choice of words was interesting, somehow ancient and not at all like Catherine’s conscious style. Is your father there?" I do not see him. You are there somewhere . . . but not with me." So I was right. We were back thirty-five centuries. What

do I do there?" You are just watching, but you teach. You teach. . . . We have learned from you . . . squares and circles, funny things. Diogenes, you are there." What else do you know of me?" You are old. Somehow we are related . . . you are my

mother’s brother." Do you know others of my family?"

96
Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters 97 I know your wife . . . and your children. You have sons. Two of them are

them are older than I. My mother has died; she died very young." Has your father raised you?" Yes, but I am married now." You’re expecting a baby?" Yes. I’m afraid. I do not want to die while the

baby is born." Did that happen to your mother? " “Yes." And you’re afraid it will happen to you also?" It happens many times." Is this your first child?"

Yes; I am frightened. I expect it soon. I’m very big. It is uncomfortable for me to move. … It is cold." She had moved herself ahead in time. The baby was about to be born. Catherine had never had a baby, and I had not delivered any in the fourteen years since my obstetrics rotation in medical school. Where

are you?" I inquired.

I’m lying on something stone. It’s very cold. I’m having pain. . . . Somebody must help me. Somebody must help me." I told her to breathe deeply; the baby would be born without pain. She was panting and groaning at the same time. Her labor lasted several

more agonizing minutes, and then her child was born. She had a daughter. Do you feel better now?" Very weak … so much blood!" Do you know what you will name her?" No, I’m too tired. … I want my baby." Your baby is here," I

ad-libbed , “a little girl." Yes, my husband is pleased." She was exhausted. I in-

structed her to take a short nap and to awaken refreshed. After a minute of two, I awakened her from the nap. Do you feel better now?" I Yes. … see

animals. They are carrying something on their backs. They have baskets on them. There are many things in the baskets . . . food . . . some red fruits. . . .’* Is it a pretty land?" Yes, with much food." Do you know the name of the land? What do

you call it when a stranger asks you the name of the village?" Cathenia … Cathenia."

It sounds like a Greek town," I prompted.

I don’t know that. Do you know that? You have been away from the village and returned. I have not." This was a twist.

Since, in that lifetime, I was her uncle^ older and wiser, she was asking me if I knew the answer to my own question. Un fortunately, I did not have access to that information.

Have you lived all your life in the village?" I asked. Yes," she whispered,

"but you travel, so you can know what you teach. You travel to learn, to learn the land . . . the different trade routes so you can put them down and make maps. . . . You are old. You go with the younger people because you understand the charts. You are very wise." Which charts

do you mean? Charts of the stars?" You, you understand the symbols. You can help them to make . . . help them to make maps." Do you recognize other people from the village? " I do not know them . . . but I know you."

All right. How is our relationship? " Very good. You are very kind. I like to just sit next to you; it’s very comforting. . . . You have helped us. You have helped my sisters. …" 98 Brian L. Weiss, M.D, 99 Many Lives, Many

Masters There comes a time, though, when I must leave you, for I am old." No." She was not ready to deal with my death. “I see some bread, flat bread, very flat and thin." Are people eating the bread?" Yes, my father and my husband

and I. And other people in the village," What is the occasion? " It is some . . . some festival."

Is your father there?" Yes." Is your baby there?" Yes, but she’s not with me. She’s

with my sister." Look closely at your sister," I suggested, looking for that recognition of a significant person in Catherine’s current life. Yes. I do not know her." Do you recognize your father?" Yes … yes … Edward. There are

figs, figs and olives . , . and red fruit. There is flat bread. And they have killed some sheep. They are roasting the sheep." There was a long pause. “I see something white, . . ." She had again progressed herself in time. “It’s a white . . . it’s a square box. It’s where they put people

when they die," Did someone die, then?" Yes . . . my father. I don’t like to look at him. I don’t want to see him." Do you have to look?" Yes. They will take him away to bury him. I feel very sad." Yes, I know. How many

children do you have? " The re porter in me was not letting her grieve. I have three, two boys and a girl." After dutifully answering my question, she returned to her grief. “They have put his body under something, under some cover. . – ." She seemed

very sad. Have I died by this time, too?" No. We are drinking some grapes, grapes in a cup." What do I look like now?" You are very, very old." Are you feeling better yet?" No!

When you die I’ll be alone." Have you outlived your children? They will take care of you." But you know so much." She sounded like a little girl. You will get by. You know a lot, too. You’ll be safe." I reassured her, and she appeared

to be resting peacefully.

Are you more peaceful? Where are you now?" I don’t know." She had apparently crossed over into the spiritual state, even though she had not experienced her death in that lifetime. This week we had gone through

two lifetimes in considerable detail. I awaited the Masters, but Catherine continued to rest. After several more minutes of waiting, I asked if she could talk to the Master Spirits. I have not reached that plane," she explained. “I cannot speak until I do."

She never did reach that plane. After much waiting, I brought her out of the trance.

CHAPTER 8
hree weeks passed before our next session. On ray vacation, lying on a tropical beach, I had the time and distance to

T

reflect on what had transpired with Catherine: hypnotic regression to past lives with detailed observations and explanations of objects, processes, and facts 鈥攚hich she had no knowledge of in her normal, waking state; improvement in her symptoms through the regressions 鈥攊mprovement

not even remotely achieved by conventional psychotherapy over the first eighteen months of treatment; chillingly accurate revelations from the afterdeath, spiritual state, conveying knowledge she had no access to; spiritual poetry, and lessons about the dimensions , after death, about life

and death, birth and rebirth, from Master Spirits who spoke with a wisdom and in a style well beyond Catherine’s capabilities. There was, indeed, a lot to contem plate. Over the years I had treated many hundreds, perhaps thou sands, of psychiatric patients, and they reflected

the entire spectrum of emotional disorders. I had directed inpatient units at four major medical schools, I had spent years in psychiatric emergency rooms, outpatient clinics, and various other settings, evaluating and treating outpatients. I knew all about the auditory and visual hallucinations and the

delusions of schizophrenia , I had treated many patients with borderline syn-

103

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Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters 105 dromes and hysterical character disorders,

including split or multiple personalities, I had been a Career Teacher in Drug and Alcohol Abuse, funded by the National Institute of Drug Abuse (NIDA), and I was very familiar with the gamut of drug effects on the brain. Catherine had none of these symptoms or syndromes.

What had occurred was not a manifestation of psychiatric illness. She was not psychotic, not out of touch with reality, and she had never suffered from hallucinations (seeing or hearing things not actually there) or delusions (false beliefs). She did not use

drugs, and she had no sociopathic traits. She did not have a hysterical personality, and she did not have dissociative tendencies. That is, she was generally aware of what she was doing and thinking, did not function on “automatic pilot," and had never had any split or multiple personalities. The material she

produced was often beyond her conscious capabilities in both style and content. Some of it was particularly psychic, such as the references to specific events and facts from my own past (e.g., the knowledge about my father and my son), as well as from her own. She had knowledge that she had never had access to, or

accumulated, in her present life. This knowledge, as well as the whole experience, was alien to her culture and upbringing and contrary to many of her beliefs. Catherine is a relatively simple and honest person. She is not a scholar, and she could not have invented the facts, details, historical events,

descriptions, and poetry that came through her. As a psychiatrist, a scientist, I was certain that the material originated from some portion of her unconscious mind. It was real, beyond any doubt. Even if Catherine were a skilled actress, she could not have recreated these happenings . The knowledge was too accurate and too specific,

lying beyond her capacity. I pondered the therapeutic purpose of exploring Catherine’s past lives. Once we had stumbled into this new realm, her improvement was dramatically rapid, without any medicine. There is some powerful curative force in this realm, a force

apparently much more effective than conventional therapy or modern medicines. The force includes remembering and re living not just momentous traumatic events, but also the daily insults to our bodies, minds, and egos. In my questions, as we scanned lifetimes, I was looking for the patterns of

these insults, patterns such as chronic emotional or physical abuse, poverty and starvation, illness and handicaps, persistent persecution and prejudice, repeated failures, and so on. I also kept an eye out for those more piercing tragedies, such as a traumatic death experience, rape, mass catastrophe, or any other

horrifying event that might leave a permanent imprint. The technique was similar to reviewing a childhood in conventional therapy, except that the time frame was several thousand years, rather than the usual ten or fifteen years. Therefore my questions were more direct and more

leading than in conventional therapy. But the success of our unorthodox exploration was unquestionable. She {and others I later would treat with hypnotic regression] was being cured with tremendous rapidity. But were there other explanations for Catherine’s past-life memories? Could the memories

be carried in her genes? This possibility is scientifically remote. Genetic memory requires the unbroken passage of genetic material from generation to generation. Catherine lived all over the earth, and her genetic line was interrupted repeatedly. She would die in a flood with her offspring,

or be childless, or die in her youth. Her genetic pool ended and was not transmitted. And what of her survival after death and the inbetween state? There was no body and certainly no genetic material, and yet her memories continued. No, the genetic explanation had to be discarded. 106

Brian L Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters 107 What about Jung’s idea of the collective unconscious, a reservoir of all human memory and experience that could somehow be tapped into? Divergent cultures often contain similar

symbols, even in dreams. According to Jung, the collective unconscious was not personally acquired but “inherited somehow in the brain structure. It includes motives and images that spring anew in every culture, without relying upon historical tradition or dissemination.

I thought Catherine’s memories were too specific to be explained by Jung’s concept. She did not reveal symbols and universal images or motives. She related detailed descriptions of specific people and places. Jung’s ideas seemed too vague. And there was still the inbetween state to

consider. All in all, reincarnation made the most sense. Catherine’s knowledge was not only detailed and specific, but also beyond her conscious capacity. She knew things that could not be gleaned from a book and then temporarily forgotten. Her knowledge could not have been acquired in

her childhood and then similarly suppressed or repressed from consciousness . And what about the Masters and their messages? This came through Catherine but was not of Catherine. And their wisdom was also reflected in Catherine’s memories of lifetimes. I knew that this information and these messages

were ttue. I knew this not only from many years of careful study of people, their minds and brains and personalities, but I also knew this intuitively, even before the visit from my father and my son. My brain with its years of careful scientific training knew this, and my bones also knew.

I see pots with some type of oil in them." Despite the threeweek hiatus, Catherine had quickly lapsed into a deep trance. She was enmeshed in another body, in another time. “There are different oils in the pots. It seems to be some type of storehouse or someplace

where they store things. The pots are red . . . red, made out of some type of red earth. They have blue bands around them, blue bands around the top. I see men there . . . there are men in the cave. They’re moving the jars and the pots around, stacking them up and putting them in a certain area. Their heads are

shaved . . . they have no hair on their heads. Their skin is brown . . . brown skin." Are you there?" Yes . . . I’m sealing up some of the jars . . . with some type of wax . . . sealing the top of the jars with_the wax." Do you know what the oils are used for?"

I don’t know." Do you see yourself? Look at yourself. Tell me what you look like." She paused as she observed herself. I have a braid. There’s a braid in my hair. I have some type of long . . . longmaterial garment on. It has a gold border around the outside."

Do you work for these priests鈥攐r the men 鈥攚ith the shaved heads?" It is my job to seal the jars with the wax. That’s my job." But you don’t know what the jars are used for?" They appear to be used in some religious ritual. But I’m not sure . . .

what it is. There’s some anointing, something on the heads . . . something on your heads and your hands, your hands. I see a bird, a gold bird, that’s around my neck. It’s fiat. It has a flat tail, a very flat tail, and its head is pointing down … to my feet." To your feet?" Yes, that’s the

way it must be worn. There’s a black . . . black sticky substance. I don’t know what it is." 108 Brian L. Weiss, M.D. 109 Many Lives, Many Masters Where is it?" It’s in a marble container. They use that, too,

that, too, but I don’t know what for." Is there anything in the cave for you to read so that you can tell me the name of the country 鈥攖he place 鈥攚here you live, or the date?" There’s nothing on the walls; they’re empty. I do not know the name." I progressed her in time. There’s a white jar, some type of white

jar. The handle on the top is gold, some type of gold inlay on it." What is in the jar?" Some type of ointment. It has something to do with the passage into the other world." Are you the person to be passing now?" “No! It is no one I know." Is this

Is this your job, too? To prepare people for this passage? " “No. The priest must do that, not me. We just keep them supplied with the ointments, the incense. . . ." “About how old do you appear to be now?" “Sixteen."

Are you

living with your parents? " “Yes, a stone house, some type of stone dwelling. It’s not very large. It’s very hot and dry. The climate is very hot." “Go to your house." “I’m there." Do you see other people around in your family?"

"I see a brother, and my mother is there, and a baby, some body’s baby." Is that your baby?" “No." What is significant now? Go to something significant that explains your symptoms in your current lifetime. We need

to understand. It is safe to experience it Go to the events." She answered in a very soft whisper. “Everything in time. … I see people dying." People dying?" Yes . . . they don’t know what it is." An illness?" Suddenly it dawned on me that she was

again touching on an ancient lifetime, one that she had regressed to previously. In that lifetime, a waterborne plague had killed Catherine’s father and one of her brothers. Catherine had also suffered from the illness, but she had not died from it. The people used garlic and other herbs to try to ward off the

plague. Catherine had been upset because the dead were not being properly embalmed.

But now we had approached that lifetime from a different angle. “Does it have something to do with the water? " I asked. They believe so. Many people are dying." I already

knew the ending. But you don’t die, not from this?" No, I do not die." But you get sick. You become ill." Yes, I’m very cold . . . very cold. I need water . . . water. They think it comes from the water* . . and some thing black. . . .

Someone dies." Who dies?" My father dies, and one brother dies also. My mother is okay; she recovers. She’s very weak. They must bury the people. They must bury them, and people are upset because it’s against religious practices."

What was the

practice?" I marveled at the consistency of her recall, fact for fact, exactly as she had recounted the lifetime several months ago. Again this deviation from the normal burial customs greatly upset her. People were put in caves. The bodies were kept in caves. But first, the bodies had to be prepared

by the priests. They 111 110 Brian L Weiss, M.D.

must be wrapped and anointed. They were kept in caves, but the land is flooding. . . . They say the water is bad. Don’t drink the water." Is there a way of treating it? Did

anything work?" We were given herbs, different herbs. The odors . . . the herbs and . . . smell the odor. I can smell it!" Do you recognize the smell?" It’s white. They hang it from the ceiling." Is it like garlic?"

It’s hung around … the properties are similar, yes. Its properties . . . you put it in your mouth, your ears, your nose, everywhere. The odor was strong. It was believed to block the evil spirits from entering your body. Purple . . . fruit or something round with purple covering, purple skin to it. . . ."

Do you recognize the culture that you’re in? Does it seem familiar?" I don’t know." Is the purple a fruit of some sort?" Tannis."

Would that help you? Is that for the illness? " It was at that time." Tannis,"

I repeated, again trying to see if she was talking about what we refer to as tannin or tannic acid. “Is that what they called it? Tannis?" I just … I keep hearing ‘Tannis.'"

What in this lifetime has buried itself in your current life time? Why do you keep coming

back here? What is it that is so uncomfortable? " The religion," Catherine quickly whispered, “the religion of that time. It was a religion of fear . . . fear. There were so many things to fear . . . and so many gods." Do you remember the names of any gods?"

Many Lives, Many Masters

I see eyes. I see a black . . . some type of … it looks like a jackal. He’s in a statue. He’s a guardian of some type … I see a woman, a goddess, with some type of a headpiece on." Do you know her name, the goddess? " “Osiris , , . Sirus . . .

something like that. I see an eye . . . eye, just an eye, an eye on a chain. It’s gold." “An eye?" Yes. . . . Who is Hathor? " “What? " Hathor! Who is that!" I had never heard of Hathor, although I knew that Osiris, if the

pronunciation was accurate, was the brotherhusband of Isis, a major Egyptian deity. Hathor, I later learned, was the Egyptian goddess of love, mirth, and joy. “Is it one of the gods?" I asked. Hathor! Hathor." There was a long pause. “Bird . . . he’s flat . . . fiat, a phoenix.

phoenix. . . ." She was silent again, Go ahead in time now to your final day in that lifetime. Go to your final day, but before you have died. Tell me what you see." She answered in a very soft whisper. “I see people and buildings. I see sandals,

sandals. There is a rough cloth, some type of rough cloth." What happens? Go to the time of your dying now. What happens to you? You can see it." I do not see it … I don’t see me anymore." “Where are you? What do

you see?" Nothing . . . just darkness. … I see a light, a warm light." She had already died, already passed over to the spiritual state. Apparently she did not need to experience her actual death again. Can you come to

the light?" I asked. 112 Brian L. Weiss, M,D.

I am going." She was resting peacefully, waiting again. Can you look backward now on the lessons of that life time? Are you aware of them yet?" No," she whispered.

She continued to wait. Suddenly she appeared alert, although her eyes remained closed, as they al ways did when she was in hypnotic trances. Her head was turning from side to side. What are you seeing now? What’s happening? " Her voice was louder. “I

feel . . . someone’s talking to me!" What do they say?" Talking about patience. One must have patience. . . ." Yes, go on." The answer came from the poet Master. “Patience and timing . . . everything comes when it must

come. A life cannot be rushed, cannot be worked on a schedule as so many people want it to be. We must accept what comes to us at a given time, and not ask for more. But life is endless, so we never die; we were never really born. We just pass through different phases. There is no end.

Humans have many dimensions. But time is not as we see time, but rather in lessons that are learned." There was a long pause. The poet Master continued.

Everything will be clear to you in time. But you must have a chance to digest the knowledge that we have given to you already."

Catherine was silent. Is there more I should learn?" I asked. They’ve gone," she softly whispered. “I don’t hear any body."

CHAPTER 9
Each week another layer of neurotic fears and anxieties was stripped

away from Catherine. Each week she appeared a bit more serene, a bit softer and more patient. She was more confident , and people were drawn to her. Catherine felt more loving, and others gave love back to her. The inner diamond that was her true personality was shining brilliantly for all to

see. Catherine’s regressions spanned millennia. Each time she entered a hypnotic trance, I had no idea where the threads of her lives would emerge. From prehistoric caves to ancient Egypt to modern times 鈥攕he had been there. And all of her lives had been lovingly overseen, somewhere

beyond time, by the Masters, In today’s session she emerged in the twentieth century, but not as Catherine. I see a fuselage and an airstrip^ some kind of airstrip," she whispered softly. Do you know where it is?" I can’t see … Alsatian?" Then,

more definitely, “Alsatian."

In France? " I don’t know, just Alsatian. … I see the name Von Marks, Von Marks [phonetic]. Some type of brown helmet or 117

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Many Lives, Many Masters Brian L. Weiss, M.D.

a hat … a hat with goggles on it. The troop has been destroyed . It appears to be a very remote area. I don’t think there’s a town nearby." What do you see?" I see buildings destroyed. I see buildings. . . . The land is torn up from . . . bombings. There’s a

There’s a very well hidden area." What are you doing?" I’m helping them with the wounded. They’re carrying them away." Look at yourself. Describe yourself. Look down and see what you’re wearing." I have some type of jacket on. I have

on. I have blond hair. I have blue eyes. My jacket is very dirty. There are many wounded people," Are you trained to help with the wounded? " No." Do you live there or were you brought there? Where do you live?" I don’t know."

About how old are you? " Thirtyfive." Catherine herself was twentynine, and she had hazel eyes, not blue, I continued the questioning.

Do you have a name? Is it on the jacket?" There are wings on the jacket. I’m a pilot . . ,

a pilot . . , some type of pilot." You fly the airplanes? " Yes, I have to." Who makes you fly? " I’m in service to fly. That’s my job." Do you drop the bombs, too?" We have a gunner on the plane.

There’s a navigator."

What kind of plane do you fly? " Some type of chopper plane. It has four propellers. It’s a fixed wing." I was amused, because Catherine knew nothing about airplanes. I wondered what she would think “fixed wing" meant. But, like

the making of butter or the embalming of the deceased, under hypnosis she possessed a vast store of knowledge. Only a fraction of this knowledge, however, was available to her everyday, conscious mind. I pressed on. Do you have a family?" They are not

with me." Are they safe?" I don’t know. I’m afraid . . . afraid they will come back. My friends are dying!" Who are you afraid will come back?" The enemy."

Who are they?"

The English . . . the American Armed Forces . . . the English."

Yes. Do you remember your family? " Remember it? There’s too much confusion."

Let’s go back in the same lifetime, back to a happier time,

before the war, the time with your family back at home. You can see that. I know it’s hard, but I want you to relax. Try and remember."

Catherine paused, then whispered, “I hear the name Eric. . . Eric. I see a blondhaired child, a girl." “Is that your daughter? "

" “Yes, it must be … Margot." “Is she close to you?" She’s with me. We’re on a picnic. The day is beautiful," “Is anyone else there with you? Besides Margot?" “I see a woman with brown hair sitting on the grass."

119

Many twes, Many Masters 118 Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Is she your wife?" Yes … I don’t know her," she added, referring to a recognition of someone in Catherine’s present lifetime. Do you know Margot?" Look at

Margot closely. Do you know her?" Yes, but I’m not sure how … I knew her from some where." It will come to you. Look into her eyes." It’s Judy," she answered. Judy was presently Catherine’s best friend. There had been an instant rapport at their first meeting,

and they had become true friends, implicitly trusting each other, knowing the other’s thoughts and needs before they were verbalized.

Judy? “I repeated.

Yes, Judy. She looks like her . . . she smiles like her." Yes, that’s

good. Are you happy at home, or are there problems ?" There are no problems." [Long pause] “Yes. Yes, it is a time of unrest. There’s a problem deep in the German government , the political structure. Too many people want to move in too many directions. It will eventually tear us apart. . . .

But I must fight for my country." Do you have strong feelings for your country? " I dislike war. I feel it is wrong to kill, but I must do my duty." Go back now, back to where you were, to the plane on the ground, and the bombings, and the war. It’s later; the

war has started. The English and the Americans are dropping bombs near you. Go back. Do you see the plane again?" Yes." Do you still have the same feelings about duty and killing and war?" Yes, we will die for nothing."

What?

" We will die for nothing," she repeated in a louder whisper. Nothing? Why for nothing? Is there no glory in it? No defense of your land or your loved ones?" We will die for defending the ideas of a few people." Even though these were the leaders

of your country? They can be wrong鈥? She quickly cut me off. They are not leaders. If they were leaders, there would not be so much internal strife … in government."

Some people call them mad. Does this make sense to you? Powercrazy?" We

must all be mad to be driven by them, to allow them to drive us … to kill people. And to kill ourselves. . . ." Have you any friends left?" Yes, there are still some alive." Are there any that you are particularly close to? In your airplane crew? Are your gunner

and your navigator still alive? " I don’t see them, but my plane wasn’t destroyed."

Do you fly again in the plane?" Yes, we must hurry to get the remaining aircraft off the strip . . . before they return." Go into your plane."

I don’t want to go." It was as if she could negotiate with me. But you must to get it off the ground."

It’s so senseless. . . ." What kind of profession did you have before the war? Do you remember? What did Eric do?" I was second in

command … on a small plane, some plane flying cargo." 120 Brian L. Weiss, M.D. 121 Many Lives, Many Masters So you were a pilot then, too?" Yes." That took you

away from home a lot?" She answered very softly, wistfully. “Yes." Go ahead in time," I instructed, “to the next flight. Can you do that?" There is no next flight" Does something happen to you? " Yes." Her

breathing was accelerating, and she was be coming agitated. She had gone ahead to the day of her death. What’s happening? " I’m running from the fire. My party’s being torn apart by the fire." Do you survive this?" Nobody survives . .

. nobody survives a war. I’m dying!" Her breathing was heavy. “Blood! Blood is everywhere! I have pain in my chest. I’ve been hit in my chest . . . and my leg … and my neck. It’s so much pain. . . ." She was in agony; but soon her breathing slowed and became more regular ; her facial muscles

relaxed, and a look of peacefulness came over her. I recognized the calm of the transition state. You look more comfortable. Is it over? " She paused, then answered very softly. I’m floating . . . away from my body. I have no body. I am in spirit again." Good.

Rest. You’ve had a difficult lifetime. You went through a difficult death. You need to rest. Restore yourself. What did you learn from that lifetime?" I learned about hate . . . senseless killing . . . misdirected hate . . . people who hate and they don’t know why. We are driven to it … by the evil, when we are in physical

state. . . ." Is there a higher duty than duty to the country? Some- thing that could have prevented you from killing? Even if you were ordered? A duty to yourself?" Yes. . . ." But she did not elaborate.

Are you

waiting for something now?" Yes . . . I’m waiting to go into a state of renewal. I must wait. They will come for me … they will come. . . ." Good. I would like to talk with them when they come." We waited for several more minutes. Then abruptly her voice was loud and husky, and the original

Master Spirit, not the poet Master, was speaking. You were correct in assuming this is the proper treatment for those in the physical state. You must eradicate the fears from their minds. It is a waste of energy when fear is present. It stifles them from fulfilling what they were sent here to fulfill. Take

your cues from your surroundings. They must first be put into a level very, very deep . . . where they no longer can feel their body. Then you can reach them. It’s only on the surface . . . that the troubles lie. Deep within their soul, where the ideas are created, that is where you must reach them. . Energy . .

everything is energy. So much is wasted. The mountains . . . inside the mountain it is quiet; it is calm at the center. But on the outside is where the trouble lies. Hu mans can only see the outside, but you can go much deeper. You have to see the volcano. To do it you have to go deep inside.

To be in physical state is abnormal. When you are in spiritual state, that is natural to you. When we are sent back, it’s like being sent back to something we do not know. It will take us longer,. In the spirit world you have to wait, and then you are renewed. There is a state of renewal. It’s a dimension

like the other dimensions, and you have almost succeeded in reaching that state. . . ." 123 122 Many Lives, Many Masters Brian L, Weiss, M,D. This caught me by surprise. How could I be approaching the state of

renewal? “I have almost reached it?" I asked in credulously.

Yes. You know so much more than the others. You understand so much more. Be patient with them. They don’t have the knowledge that you have. Spirits will be sent back to help you. But you are correct in what you are doing . . .

continue. This energy must not be wasted. You must get rid of the fear. That will be the greatest weapon you have. . . ." The Master Spirit was silent. I pondered the meaning of this incredible message. I knew I was successfully getting rid of Catherine’s fears, but this message

had a more global meaning. It was more than just a confirmation of the effectiveness of hypnosis as a therapeutic tool. It involved even more than pastlife regressions, which would be difficult to apply to the general population, one by one. No, I believed it concerned the fear of death, which is

the fear deep within the volcano. The fear of death, that hidden, constant fear that no amount of money or power can neutralize 鈥攖his is the core. But if people knew that “life is endless; so we never die; we were never really born," then this fear would dissolve. If they knew that they had lived countless

times before and would live countless times again, how reassured they would feel. If they knew that spirits were around to help them while they were in physical state and that after death, in spiritual state, they would join these spirits, including their deceased loved ones, how comforted they would be.

If they knew that guardian “angels" re a lly did exist, how much safer they would feel. If they knew that acts of violence and injustices against people did not go unnoted, but had to be repaid in kind in other life times, how much less anger and desire for vengeance they would harbor. And if indeed, “by

knowledge we approach God," of what use are material possessions, or power, when they are an end in themselves and not a means to that approach ? To be greedy or powerhungry has no value what soever. But how to reach people with this knowledge? Most people

recite prayers in their churches, synagogues, mosques, or temples , prayers that proclaim the immortality of the soul. Yet after worship is over, they go back into their competitive ruts, practicing greed and manipulation and self-centeredness . These traits retard the progress of the soul. So, if faith is not

enough, perhaps science will help. Perhaps experiences such as Catherine’s and mine need to be studied, analyzed, and reported in a detached, scientific manner by people trained in the behavioral and physical sciences. Yet, at this time, writing a scientific paper or a book was the furthest thing from

my mind, a remote and most unlikely possibility. I wondered about the spirits who would be sent back to help me. Help me do what? Catherine stirred and began to whisper. “Someone named Gideon, someone named Gideon . . . Gideon. He’s trying to talk to me." What does he say?"

He’s all around. He won’t stop. He’s some type of guardian … something. But he’s playing with me now." Is he one of your guardians? " Yes, but he’s playing . . . he’s just jumping all around. I think he wants me to know he’s all around me … every where."

Gideon? “I repeated.

He’s there." Does it make you feel safer?" Yes. He’ll be back when I need him." Good. Are there spirits around us?" She answered in a whisper, from the perspective of her

superconscious mind. “Oh, yes … many spirits. They only

124
Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters 125 come when they want to. They come . . . when they want to. We are all spirits. But others . . . some are in physical state and others are in a period

of renewal. And others are guardians . But we all go there. We have been guardians, too." Why do we come back to learn? Why can’t we learn as spirits? " Those are different levels of learning, and we must learn some of them in the flesh. We must feel

the pain. When you’re a spirit you feel no pain. It is a period of renewal. Your soul is being renewed. When you’re in physical state in the flesh, you can feel pain; you can hurt. In spiritual form you do not feel, There is only happiness, a sense of well-being. But it’s a renewal period for … us. The interaction

between people in the spiritual form is different. When you are in physical state . . . you can experience relationships."

I understand. It will be okay." She had become silent again. Minutes passed. I see a carriage," she began, “a blue carriage." “A baby carriage? "

No, a carriage that you ride in. … Something blue! A blue fringe on the top, blue outside. . . ." “Do horses pull the carriage? " It has big wheels. I don’t see anybody in it, but just two horses hitched to it … a gray one and a brown one. The horse’s name is Apple, the

gray one, because he likes apples. The other one’s name is Duke. They’re very nice. They won’t bite you. They have big feet . . . big feet." “Is there a mean horse, too? A different horse?" “No. They’re very nice." “Are you there?" Yes. I can see his nose. He’s so

He’s so much bigger than I am." “Do you ride the carriage? " By the nature of her responses I knew she was a child. There are horses. There’s a boy there, too." “How old are you?" Very little. I don’t know. I don’t think I know how to

how to count." Do you know the boy? Your friend? Your brother?" “He’s a neighbor. He’s there for … some party. They’re having a . . . wedding or something." “Do you know who is getting married?" “No. We were told not to get dirty. I have brown hair . . . shoes that

button on the side all the way up," “Are these your party clothes? Good clothes?" “0It’s a white . . . some type of white dress with a … something ruffly over it, and it ties in the back." “Is your house nearby?" “It’s a big house," the child answered. “Is that where you live?"

"Yes." Good. You can look into the house now; it’s okay. It’s an important day. Other people will be dressed well, too, wearing special clothes." They’re cooking food, lots of food." “Can you smell it? " Yes. They’re making some type

of bread. Bread . . . meat. . . . We’re told to go back outside again." I was amused at this. I had told her it was all right to go inside, and now she had been ordered out again. “Do they call your name?" “. . . Mandy .. .. Mandy and Edward." “Is he the boy?"

Yes." They won’t let you stay in the house?" “No, they’re too busy." “How do you feel about that?" 126

Brian L. Weiss,

We don’t care. But it’s hard to stay clean. We

can’t do anything."

Do you get to the wedding? Later that day?" “Yes … I see many people. It’s crowded in the room. It’s hot, a hot day. There’s a parson there; the parson’s there . . . with a funny hat, a big hat … black. It comes out over his face . . . quite a ways." “Is

this a happy time for your family?" “Yes,"

Do you know who’s getting married? " Just my sister." “Is she much older?" “Yes."

Do you see her now? Is she wearing her wedding dress?"

"Yes." Is she pretty?" Yes. She has lots of flowers around her hair." “Look at her closely. Do you know her from another time? Look at her eyes, her mouth. . . ."

Yes. I think she’s Becky . . . but smaller, much smaller." Becky was Catherine’s friend and coworker. They were close, yet Catherine resented Becky’s judgmental attitude and her intrusiveness into Catherine’s life and decisions. After all, she was a friend, not family. But perhaps the

distinction was now not so clear. “She . . . she likes me … and I can stand near the front because she does," “Good. Look around you. Are your parents there?" “Yes." Do they like you as much?" “Yes." That’s good. Look at them closely. First your mother. See

if you remember her. Look at her face." Catherine took several deep breaths. “I don’t know her." 127

Many Lives, Many Masters

Look at your father. Look at him closely.

Look at his expression , his eyes . . . also his mouth. Do you know him?" He’s Stuart," she quickly answered. So, Stuart had surfaced once again. This was worth exploring further. What’s your relationship with him like?" I him much he’s love very . . . very

good to me. But he thinks I am a nuisance. He thinks children are nuisances."

Is he too serious? " No, he likes to play with us. But we ask too many questions . But he’s very good to us, except we ask too many questions."

Does

that sometimes annoy him?" Yes, we must learn from the teacher, not from him. That’s why we go to school … to learn." That sounds like him talking. Does he say that to you? " Yes, he has more important things to do. He must run the farm."

Is it a big farm?" Yes." Do you know where it is?" No." Do they ever mention the city or the state? The name of the town?" She paused, listening carefully. “I don’t hear that." She" was silent again. Okay, do you

want to explore more in this lifetime? To go ahead in time or is this鈥? She cut me off. “This is enough."

During this entire process with Catherine, I had been reluctant to discuss her revelations with other professionals. Actually,

except for Carole and a few others who were “safe," I had 128 Brian L. Weiss, M.D.

not shared this remarkable information with others at all. I knew the knowledge from our sessions was both true and extremely important, yet anxiety about the reactions of my professional

professional and scientific colleagues caused me to keep silent. I was still concerned with my reputation, career, and what others thought of me. My personal skepticism had been eroded by the proofs that, week after week, fell from her lips. I would often replay the audio tapes

and reexperience the sessions, with all their drama and immediacy. But the others would have to rely on my experiences, powerful but nevertheless not their own. I felt compelled to gather even more data. As I gradually accepted and believed

the messages, my life became simpler and more satisfying. There was no need to play games, to pretend, to act out roles, or to be other than what I was. Relationships became more honest and direct. Family life was less confusing and more relaxed. My reluctance to share the wisdom that had been given

to me through Catherine began to diminish. Surprisingly, most people were very interested and wanted to know more. Many told me of their very private experiences of parapsychological events, whether ESP, deja vu, out-ofbody experiences, past-life dreams, or others. Many had never even told their

spouses about these experiences. People were almost uniformly afraid that, by sharing their experiences, others, even their own families and therapists, would consider them odd or strange. Yet these parapsychological events are fairly common, much more frequent than people realize. It is only the

reluctance to tell others about psychic occurrences that makes them seem rare. And the more highly trained are the most reluctant to share. The respected chairman of a major clinical department at my hospital is a man who is admired internationally for his expertise. He talks to his deceased father, who has several

Many Lives, Many Masters 129

times protected him from serious danger. Another professor has dreams that provide the missing steps or solutions to his complex research experiments. The

dreams are invariably correct. Another wellknown doctor usually knows who is calling him on the phone before he answers it. The wife of the Chairman of Psychiatry at a midwestern university has a Ph.D. in psychology. Her research projects are always carefully planned and executed. She had

never told anyone that when she first visited Rome, she moved through the city as if she had a road map imprinted in her memory. She unerringly knew what was around the next corner. Although she had never been to Italy previously and did not know the lan gauge, Italians repeatedly approached her in

Italian, continually mistaking her for a native. Her mind struggled to integrate her experiences in Rome. I understood why these highly trained professionals remained in the closet. I was one of them. We could not deny our own experiences and senses. Yet our training was in many

ways diametrically opposite to the information, experiences, and beliefs we had accumulated. So we remained quiet.

CHAPTER 10
The week passed quickly. I had listened over and over again to the tape of last week’s session. How was I approaching the state of renewal? I

did not feel particularly enlightened. And now spirits would be sent back to help me. But what was I supposed to do? When would I find out? Would I be up to the task? I knew I must wait and be patient. I remembered the words of the poet Master. Patience and timing . . . everything comes when it

must come. . . . Everything will be clear to you in time. But you must have a chance to digest the knowledge that we have given to you already." So I would wait. * At the beginning of this session Catherine related a fragment of a dream she had had several nights ago. In the

dream she was living in her parents’ house, and a fire had broken out during the night. She was in control, helping to evacuate the house, but her father was dawdling and seemingly indifferent to the urgency of the situation. She rushed him outside. Then he remembered something he had left in the

house, and he sent Catherine back into the raging fire to retrieve the object. She could not remember what it was. I decided not to interpret the dream yet, but to wait and see if the opportunity would arise while she was hypnotized.

She quickly entered a deep hypnotic trance. “I

see a woman

133

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Brian L. Weiss, M.D. 135 Many Lives, Many Masters with a hood over her head, not covering her face, just on her hair."

Then she was silent. Can you see that now? The hood? " I lost it. … I see some type of black material, brocade material with a gold design on it, … I see a building with some type of

structural points on it … white." Do you recognize the building? " No." Is it a large building? " No. There’s a mountain in the background with some snow on the top of it. But the grass is green

in the valley . . . where we’re at." Are you able to go into the building? " Yes. It’s made of some type of marble . , . very cold to the touch." Is it some sort of temple or religious building?"

"I don’t know. I thought it might be a prison." “Prison? “I repeated. “Are there people in the building? Around it?" Yes, some soldiers. They have black uniforms, black with gold shoulder pads . . , gold tassels

hanging off. Black helmets with some type of gold . . . something pointed and gold on the top … of the helmet. And a red sash, a red sash around the waist." Are there any soldiers around you?" “Maybe two or three." “Are you there?"

I’m somewhere, but I’m not in the building. But I’m nearby." Look around. See if you can find yourself. . , . The mountains are there, and the grass . . . and the white building. Are there other buildings, too?" If there

are other buildings, they’re not situated near this

one. I see one . . . isolated, with some type of wall built behind it … a wall." Do you think it’s a fort or a prison or something like that?" It might be, but … it’s very isolated."

Why is that important to you?" [Long pause “Do you know the name of the town or country where you are? Where the soldiers are?" I keep seeing ‘Ukraine.’ " Ukraine? " I repeated, fascinated by the diversity of her lifetimes. “Do you see a

year? Does that come to you? Or a period of time?" Seven teenseventeen," she answered hesitatingly, then corrected herself. “Seventeen fifty-eight . . . seventeen fifty- eight. There are many soldiers. I don’t know what their purpose is. With long swords

that curve." What else do you see or hear? “I inquired.

I see a fountain, a fountain where they water the horses."

Do the soldiers ride horses? " Yes." Are the soldiers

known by any other name? Do they call themselves anything special?" She listened. I don’t hear that." Are you among them?" No." Her answers were again a child’s, short and often monosyllabic. I had to be a very active interviewer.

But you’re seeing them nearby? " Yes." Are you in the town?" Yes." Do you live there?" I believe so." , Good. See if you can find yourself and where you live."

136
Brian L. Wetss, M.D. 137 Many Lwes, Many Masters I see some very ragged clothes. I see just a child, a boy. His clothes are ragged. He’s cold. . . ." Does he have a home in the town?" There was a long pause.

I don’t see that," she continues. She seemed to be having some difficulty connecting with this lifetime. She was some what vague in her answers, somehow unsure. Okay. Do you know the boy’s name? " No."

What happens to the boy? Go with him. See what hap pens." Someone he knows is a prisoner."

A friend? A relative? " I believe it’s his father." Her answers were brief.

Are you the boy?" I’m not sure." Do you know how he feels about his father being in prison?" Yes . . . he’s very afraid, afraid they might kill him." “What has his father done?" He

has stolen something from the soldiers, some papers or something."

The boy doesn’t understand completely? " “No. He might never see his father again." “Can he get to see his father at all?" “No." Do they know

they know for how long his father will be in the prison? Or if he will live?" No!" she answered. Her voice quavered. She was very upset, very sad. She was not providing much detail, yet she was visibly agitated by the events she was witnessing and experiencing.

You can feel what the boy is feeling," I

went on, “that kind of fear and anxiety. Do you feel it? " Yes." Again, she was silent. What happens? Go ahead in time now. I know it’s hard. Go ahead in time. Something happens." His father is executed."

How does he feel now?"

It was for something he never did. But they execute people for no reason at all." The boy must be very upset about this." I don’t believe he understands fully . . . what has happened."

Does he have other people to turn

to?" Yes, but his life will be very hard." What becomes of the boy?" I don’t know. He will probably die. . . ." She sounded so sad. She was again silent, then seemed to be looking around. What are you seeing? "

I see a hand … a hand closing around something . . . white. I don’t know what it is. . . ." She fell silent again, and minutes passed. What else do you see?" I asked. Nothing . . . darkness." She had either died or somehow disconnected from the sad boy who lived

in the Ukraine more than two hundred years ago. Have you left the boy?" Yes," she whispered. She was resting. What did you learn from that lifetime? Why -was it important ?" People cannot be judged hastily.

You have to be fair with someone. Many lives were ruined by being hasty in our judgments."

139
Many Lives, Many Masters 138 Brian L. Weiss, M.D. The boy’s life was short and hard because of that judgment

judgment . . . against his father." Yes." She was silent again. Are you seeing something else now? Do you hear any thing?" No." Again there was the brief answer and then silence. For some reason, this brief lifetime had been particularly grueling. I

gave her instructions to rest. Rest. Feel peacefulness. Your body is healing itself; your soul is resting. . . . Are you feeling better? Rested? It was difficult for the little boy. Very hard. But now you’re resting again. Your mind can take you to other places, other times . . . other memories.

Are you resting?" Yes." I decided to pursue the dream fragment about the burning house, her father’s unconcerned dawdling, and his sending her back into the conflagration in order to retrieve something of his. I have a question now about the dream you had . . . with your father. You can remember

it now; it’s safe. You’re in a deep trance. Do you remember? " Yes." You went back into the house to get something. Do you remember that?" Yes … it was a metal box." What was in it that he wanted so badly to send you back into a burning

house?" His stamps and his coins . . . that he saves," she answered . Her detailed recollection of the dream content under hypnosis contrasted dramatically with her sketchy recall while awake. Hypnosis was a powerful tool, not only providing access to the most remote,

hidden areas of the mind, but also allowing a much more detailed memory. Were his stamps and coins very important to him?" Yes." But to risk your life to go back into a burning house just for stamps and

coins鈥? She cut me off. “He didn’t think he was risking it." He thought it was safe?" Yes." Then, why didn’t he go back instead of you? " Because he thought I could go faster." I see.

Was there a risk to you, though?" “Yes, but he didn’t realize that." Was there more meaning to that dream for you? About your relationship with your father?" “I don’t know." He didn’t seem to be in much of

a hurry to get out of the burning house." “No." “Why was he so leisurely? You were fast; you saw the danger." Because he tries to hide from things." I seized this moment

to

interpret part of the dream. Yes, it’s an old pattern of his, and you do things for him, like fetching the box. I hope he can learn from you. I have a feeling that the fire represents time running out, that you realize the danger and that he doesn’t. While he dawdles and

sends you back for material objects, you know much more . . . and have much to teach him, but he doesn’t seem to want to learn." No," she agreed. “He doesn’t."

That’s how I see the dream. But you can’t force him. Only he can

can realize this." Yes," she agreed again, and her voice became deep and husky, “it is unimportant that our bodies get burned in fires if we don’t need them. …" A Master Spirit had shed an

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entirely

entirely different perspective on the dream. I was surprised at this sudden entrance, and I could only parrot back the thought, “We don’t need our bodies?" No. We go through so many stages when we’re here. We shed a baby body, go into a child’s, from child to an adult, an adult into old age. Why shouldn’t we go one step beyond

and shed the adult body and go on to a spiritual plane? That is what we do. We don’t just stop growing; we continue to grow. When we get to the spiritual plane, we keep growing there, too. We go through different stages of development. When we arrive, we’re burned out. We have to go through a renewal stage, a

learning stage, and a stage of decision. We decide when we want to return, where, and for what reasons. Some choose not to come back. They choose to go on to another stage of development. And they stay in spirit form . . . some for longer than others before they return. It is all growth and learning . . . continuous

growth. Our body is just a vehicle for us while we’re here. It is our soul and our spirit that last forever." I did not recognize the voice or style. A “new" Master was speaking, and speaking of important knowledge. I wanted to know more about these spiritual realms. Is learning

learning in the physical state faster? Are there reasons that people don’t all stay in the spiritual state?" No. Learning in the spiritual state is much faster, far accelerated from that in the physical state. But we choose what we need to learn. If we need to come back to work through a relationship, we come

back. If we are finished with that, we go on. In spiritual form you can always contact those that are in physical state if you choose to. But only if there is importance there … if you have to tell them something that they must know," 141

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How do you make contact? How does the message come through?" To my surprise, Catherine answered. Her whisper was faster and firmer. “Sometimes you can appear before that person . . . and look the same way you did when you were here. Other times you just make a mental

contact. Sometimes the messages are cryptic, but most often the person knows what it pertains to. They understand. It’s mindto-mind contact." I spoke to Catherine. “The knowledge that you have now, this information, this wisdom, which is very important . . . why is it not accessible

to you when you are awake and in the physical state?" I guess I wouldn’t understand it. I’m not capable of understanding it." Then, perhaps I can teach you to understand it, so that it doesn’t frighten you, and so that you learn." Yes." When you hear the voices of the

Masters, they say things similar to what you are telling me now. You must share a great deal of information." I was intrigued at the wisdom she possessed when she was in this state. Yes," she replied simply. And this comes from your own mind?"

But they have put it there." So she gave the credit to the Masters. Yes," I acknowledged. “How do I best communicate it back to you so that you grow and lose your fears?" You have already done that," she answered softly. She was right; her fears were nearly gone.

Once the hypnotic regressions had begun, her clinical progress had been incredibly rapid. 142 Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters 143 What lessons do you need to learn now? What is the most important thing you can learn

during this lifetime so that you can continue to grow and prosper?" Trust," she answered quickly. She had known what her principal task was.

Trust? " I repeated, surprised by the quickness of her retort. Yes. I must learn

to have faith, but also to trust people. I don’t. I think everybody is trying to do evil to me. That makes me stay away from people and situations that I probably shouldn’t stay away from. It’s keeping me with other people that I should break away from." Her insight

was tremendous when she was in this superconscious state. She knew her weaknesses and her strengths. She knew the areas that needed attention and work, and she knew what to do to improve matters. The only problem was that these insights needed to reach her conscious mind and needed to be applied to her waking life.

Superconscious insight was fascinating, but by itself it was not enough to transform her life. Who are these people to break away from?" I asked. She paused. “I am afraid of Becky. I’m afraid of Stuart . . . that somehow harm will come to me …

me … from them." Can you break away from that?" Not completely, but from some of their ideas, yes. Stuart is trying to keep me in prison, and he is succeeding. He knows that I’m afraid. He knows I’m afraid to be away from him, and he uses that knowledge to keep me with him."

And Becky? " She’s constantly trying to break down my faith in the people that I have faith in. When I see good, she sees evil. And she tries to plant those seeds in my mind. I’m learning to trust . . . people I should trust, but she fills me with

doubts

about them. And that’s her problem. I can’t let her make me think her way." In her Superconscious state, Catherine was able to pinpoint major character flaws in both Becky and Stuart. The hypnotized Catherine would make an excellent psychiatrist, em-pathic and unerringly intuitive. The awake

Catherine did not possess these attributes. It was my task to bridge the gulf. Her dramatic clinical improvement meant that some of this was seeping through. I attempted more bridgebuilding. Who can you trust?" I asked. “Think about it. Who are the people you can trust and learn from

and get closer to. Who are they?" I can trust you," she whispered. I knew this, but I knew she needed to trust people in her everyday life even more. Yes, you can. You are close to me, but you must get closer to other people in your life, too, people who can be with you more

than I can." I wanted her to be complete and indepen dent, not dependent on me. I can trust my sister. I don’t know the others. I can trust Stuart, but only to a certain extent. He does care about me, but he’s confused. In his confusion he unknowingly is doing me harm." Yes, it

is true. Is there another man that you can trust?" I can trust Robert," she answered. He was another physician in the hospital. They were good friends. Yes. Maybe there are still more for you to meet … in the future." Yes," she conceded.

The idea of future knowledge was distractingly intriguing. She had been so accurate about the past. She, through the Masters, had known specific, secret facts. Could they also know facts from the future? If so, could we share this foreknowl edge? A thousand questions burst into my mind.

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When you find contact with your superconscious mind, like now, and have this wisdom, do you also develop abilities in the psychic realm? Is it possible for you to look into the future? We have done much in the past."

That is possible," she conceded, “but I see nothing now." It is possible? “I echoed. I believe so."

Can you do this without being frightened? Can you go into the future and

obtain information of a neutral sort that will not be frightening to you? Can you see the future? " Her answer was swift, “I don’t see that. They will not allow it." I knew she

meant the Masters.

Are they around you now? " Yes."

Are they talking to you? " No. They monitor everything." So, being monitored, she was not

permitted to peer into the future. Perhaps we had nothing to gain personally from such a glimpse. Perhaps the adventure would have made Catherine too anxious. Perhaps we were not yet prepared to cope with this information. I did not push it.

The spirit that was around you before, Gideon . . ." “Yes."

What does he need? Why is he near? Do you know him?" “No, I don’t believe so." But he protects you

from danger? “, “Yes," The Masters. . . ." I don’t see them,"

Sometimes they have messages for me, messages that help you and help me. Are these messages available to you even when they’re not speaking? Do they put

thoughts in your mind?"

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ives, Many Masters Yes."

Do they monitor how far you can go? What you can remember? " Yes."

So there is a purpose

in this explanation of lifetimes. . . ." “Yes."

. . . For you and for me … to teach us. To bring us the disappearance of fear." There are many ways of communication. They choose many … to show that they do exist." Whether Catherine was

hearing their voices, visualizing past images and vistas, experiencing psychic phenomena, or having thoughts and ideas placed in her mind, the purpose was the same鈥攖o show that they do exist and, even beyond that, to help us, to aid us on our path by providing insights and

knowledge, to help us become godlike through wisdom. Do you know why they have chosen you. . , ."

No."

. . . to be a channel? " This was a delicate question, since the awake

Catherine could not even listen to the tapes. “No," she softly whispered. “Does it frighten you?" “Sometimes." “And other times not?" “Yes." It can be reassuring," I added. “We know now that we are eternal, so we lose our fear of death,"

Yes," she agreed. She paused. “I must learn to trust." She had returned to her lifetime’s major lesson. “When I’m told something, I must learn to trust what I am told . . . when the person is knowledgeable."

Certainly there are people not to trust," I added.

Yes, but I’m confused. And the people I know I should

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Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters 147 trust, I fight against that feeling. And I don’t want to trust anybody." She was silent as

I again admired her insight. Last time we talked about you as a child, in a garden with horses. Do you remember? Your sister’s wedding? " A little." Was there more to gather from that time? Do you know? " “Yes."

Would it be worthwhile to go back now and explore it?" “It won’t come back now. There are so many things in a lifetime . . . there is so much knowledge to attain . . . from each lifetime. Yes, we

must explore, but it won’t come back now." So I turned again to her troubled relationship with her father. “Your relationship with your father is another area, one that has affected you deeply in this life." “Yes," she answered simply.

It is another area to explore yet, too. You’ve had much to learn from this relationship. Compare it to the little boy in the Ukraine who lost his father at an early age. And this loss did not happen to you this time. And yet, having your father here, even though certain hardships were less . . ."

Was more of a burden," she concluded. “Thoughts …" she added, “thoughts. . . ." What thoughts? " I sensed she was in a new area. “About the anesthesia. When they give you anesthesia, can you hear? You c a n still hear!" She had answered her own question. She was whispering rapidly

now, becoming excited. “Your mind is very much aware of what’s going on. They were talking about my choking, about the possibility of me choking when they did the surgery on my throat." I remembered Catherine’s vocal cord surgery, which was performed just a few months before her first

appointment with me. She had been anxious prior to the surgery, but she was absolutely terrified upon awakening in the recovery room. It had taken the nursing staff hours to calm her. Now it appeared that what was said by the surgeons during the operation , during

the time she was under deep anesthesia, had precipitated her terror. My mind flipped back to medical school and my surgery rotation. I remembered the casual conversations during operations, while the patients were anesthetized. I remembered the jokes, the cursing, the arguments, and the

surgeons’ temper tantrums. What had the patients heard, at a subconscious level? How much registered to affect their thoughts and emotions, their fears and anxieties, after they awakened? Was the postoperative course, the patient’s very recovery from the surgery, influenced positively or negatively

by the remarks made during the operation? Had anyone died because of negative expectations overheard during surgery? Had they, feeling hopeless, just given up? Do you remember what they were saying? “I asked. That they had to put a

tube down. When they took the tube out, my throat might swell up. They didn’t think I could hear." But you did." Yes. That’s why I had all the problems." After today’s session, Catherine no longer had any fear of swallowing or choking. It was as

simple as that. “Allthe anixety . . ." she continued, “I thought I would choke." Do you feel free?" I asked. Yes. You can reverse what they did." Can I? " Yes. You are, ‘. . . They should be very careful of what they say. I remember

it now. They put a tube in my throat. And then I couldn’t talk afterward to tell them anything."

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Now you’re free. . . . You did hear them." Yes, I heard them talk. . . ." She fell silent for a minute or two, then began to

turn her head from side to side. She seemed to be listening to something,

You seem to be hearing messages. Do you know where that message came from? I was hoping the Masters would appear." Someone told me" was her cryptic answer. Somebody

was speaking to you? " But they’re gone." I tried to bring them back. See if you can bring back spirits with messages for us … to help us out." They come only when they want to, not when I choose," she answered firmly. You don’t

have any control over it? " No." Okay," I conceded, “but the message about the anesthesia was very important for you. That was the source of your choking." It was important for you, not me," she retorted. Her answer reverberated through my mind.

She would be cured of the terror of choking, yet this revelation was nevertheless more important for me than for her. I was the one doing the healing. Her simple answer contained many levels of meaning. I felt that if I truly understood these levels, these resonating octaves of meanings,

I would advance a quantum leap into the understanding of human relationships. Perhaps the helping was more important than the cure. For me to help you?" I asked. Yes. You can undo what they did. Y o u have been undoing what they did. . . ." She was resting. We had both learned a great

lesson. 149

Many Lives, Many Masters

Shortly after her third birthday my daughter, Amy, came running over to me, hugging me around the legs. She looked up and said,

"Daddy, I’ve loved you for forty thousand years." I looked down at her little face, and I felt very, very happy.

CHAPTER 11

s
everal nights later I was jolted awake from a deep sleep. Instantly alert, I had a vision of Catherine’s

face, several times larger than life-size. She looked upset, as if she needed my help. I looked over at the clock; it was 3:36 a.m. There had been no outside noises to awaken me. Carole was sleeping peacefully beside me. I dismissed the incident and fell back to sleep.

At about 3:30 that same morning, Catherine had awakened in a panic from a nightmare. She was sweating and her heart was racing. She decided to meditate to relax, visualizing my hypnotizing her in the office. She pictured my face, heard my voice, and gradually fell back to sleep. Catherine was

becoming increasingly psychic, and apparently so was I. I could hear my old psychiatry professors talking about transference and countertransference reactions in therapeutic relationships. Transference is the patient’s projection of feelings, thoughts, and wishes onto the therapist, who represents someone

from the patient’s past. Countertransference is the reverse, the therapist’s unconscious emotional reactions to the patient. But this 3:30 a.m. communication was neither. This was a telepathic bond along a wavelength outside the normal channels. Somehow the hypnosis was opening up this channel. Or was it

the audience, a diverse group of 154 Brian L, Weiss, M.D.

spirits 鈥擬asters and guardians and others 鈥攖hat was responsible for the new wavelength? I was beyond the point o f sur prise.

In the next session,

Catherine quickly reached a deep hypnotic level. She was instantly alarmed. “I see a big cloud . . -it scared me. It was there." She was breathing rapidly. Is it still there?" I don’t know. It came and went quickly . . . something up high on a mountain." She remained alarmed,

continuing to breathe heavily. I was afraid she was seeing a bomb. Could she look into the future? Can you see the mountain? Is it like a bomb? " I don’t know." Why did it scare you?" It was very sudden. It was just there. It’s very

smoky . . . very smoky. It’s big. It’s off at a distance. Oh. . . ." You’re safe. Can you get closer to it?" I don’t want to get closer!" she answered sharply. It was rare for her to be so resistant. Why are you so afraid of it?" I asked again.

I think it’s some chemicals or something. It’s hard to breathe when you’re around it." She was breathing laboriously.

Is it like a gas? Is it coming from the mountain itself . . . like a volcano?" I think so. It’s like a big mushroom. That’s what it looks like … a white one."

But not a bomb? It’s not an atomic bomb or anything like that?" She paused and then continued.

It’s a vol . . . some type of volcano or something, I think. It’s very scary. It’s hard to breathe. There’s dust in the air. I don’t want to be there." Slowly her breathing returned Many

Lives, Many Masters

to the usual deep and even respirations of the hypnotic state. She had left this frightening scene. Is it easier to breathe now?" Yes." Good. What are you seeing now?" Nothing. … I see a necklace,

a necklace on somebody’s neck. It’s blue . . . it’s silver and has a blue stone hanging off it, and then littler stones underneath that." Is there anything on the blue stone?" No, it’s seethrough. You can see through it. The lady has black hair and a blue hat on … with a big

feather, and the dress is velvet." Do you know the lady?" No." Are you there, or are you the lady?" I don’t know." But you see her?" Yes. I’m not the lady." How old is she?"

she?" In her forties. But she looks older than what she is." Is she doing anything? " No, she’s just standing next to the table. There’s a perfume bottle on the table. It’s white with green flowers on it. There’s a brush and a comb with silver handles." I w a s im

pressed with her eye for detail. Is it her room, or is it in a store?" It’s her room. There’s a bed in it … with four posts on it. It’s a brown bed. There’s a pitcher on the table." A pitcher? " Yes, there are no pictures in the room. There are

funny, dark curtains." Is anybody else around? " No." 156 157 Brian L. Weiss, M..D, Many Lives, Many Masters What relationship does this lady have to you?" I

serve her." Once again she was a servant.

Have you been with her long?" No … a few months."

Do you like that necklace? " Yes. She’s very elegant."

Have

you ever worn the necklace? " No," Her short answers required my active steering in order to obtain basic information. She reminded me of my preteenage son. How old are you now?" Maybe thirteen, fourteen. . . ."

About the same age. Why have you left your family?" I inquired.

I haven’t left them," she corrected me. “I just work there." I see. Do you go home^o your family after that?" “Yes." Her answers

left little room for exploration. “Do they live nearby? " Close enough. . . . We are very poor. It is necessary for us to work … to serve." Do you know the lady’s name?" “Belinda."

Does she treat you well?" “Yes."

Good. Do you work hard?" It’s not very tiring." Interviewing teenagers was never easy, even in past lifetimes. It was fortunate that I was well practiced. Good. Are you still seeing her now?" “No." Where are you now?"

In another room. There’s a table with a black covering on . . , and fringe around the bottom. It smells of many herbs . . . heavy perfume." Does this all belong to your mistress? Does she use a lot of perfume?" No, this is another room. I’m in another room."

Whose room is this?" It belongs to some dark lady." Dark how? Can you see her? " She has many coverings on her head," Catherine whispered , “many shawls. She’s old and wrinkled." What is your relationship to her?"

I’ve just gone to see her." For what?" So she may do the cards." Intuitively I knew that she had gone to a fortune teller, one who probably read tarot cards. This was an ironic twist. Here Catherine and I were involved in an incredible psychic adventure, spanning lifetimes

and dimensions beyond even that, and yet, perhaps two hundred years earlier, she had visited a psychic to find out about her future. I knew that Catherine had never visited a psychic in her present life, and she had no knowledge whatsoever about tarot cards or fortunetelling; these things frightened

her. Does she read fortunes? “I asked. She sees things." Do you have a question for her? What do you want to see?B What do you want to know?" About some man . . . that I might marry." , What does she say when

she does the cards?" The card with . . . some kind of poles on it. Poles and flowers . . . but poles, spears, or some kind of line. There’s another card with a chalice on it, a cup. … I see a card with a man or boy carrying a shield. She says I will marry, but I will not marry this man. … I see nothing else."

Do you see the lady?" I see some coins." 258 Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters

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Are you still with her, or is this a different place? "

I am with her." What do the coins look like?" They’re gold. The edges are not smooth. They are squared. There’s a crown on one side." See if there is a year imprinted on the coins. Something that you can read … in lettering."

Some foreign numbers," she replied. “X’s and I’s." Do you know what year that is? " Seventeen . . . something. I don’t know when." She was silent again. Why is this fortune-

teller important to you? " I don’t know. . . ." Does her fortune come true?" . . . But she’s gone," Catherine whispered. “It’s gone, I don’t know." Do you see anything now?" “No." No?" I

was surprised. Where was she? “Do you know your name in this lifetime?" I asked, hoping to pick up the thread of this life several hundred years ago. I’m gone from there." She had left the lifetime and was resting. She could do this now on her own. It was not necessary for her to experience

her death to do so. We waited for several minutes. This lifetime had not been spectacular. She had re membered only some descriptive highlights and the interesting visit to the fortuneteller. Do you see anything now?" I asked again. No," she whispered.

Are

you resting? " Yes . . . jewels of different colors. . . ." Jewels? " Yes. They’re really lights, but they look like jewels. . . ." What else?" I asked. I just . . ." she paused, and then

her whisper was loud and firm. “There are many words and thoughts that are flying around. . . . It’s about coexistence and harmony . . . the balance of things." I knew the Masters were nearby. Yes," I urged her on. “I want to know about these things. Can you tell me?"

Right now they’re just words," she answered.

Coexistence and harmony," I reminded her. When she answered , it was the voice of the poet Master. I was thrilled to hear from him again. Yes," he answered. “Everything must be balanced. Nature is balanced.

The beasts live in harmony. Humans have not learned to do that. They continue to destroy themselves. There is no harmony, no plan to what they do. It’s so different in nature. Nature is balanced. Nature is energy and life . . . and restoration. And humans just destroy. They destroy nature. They destroy

other humans. They will eventually destroy themselves."

This was an ominous prediction. With the world constantly in chaos and turmoil, I hoped this would not be soon. “When will this happen?" I asked. It will happen sooner than they think. Nature will survive. Plants will survive.

But we will not." Can we do anything to prevent that destruction? “- No. Everything must be balanced. . . ." Will this destruction happen in our lifetime? Can we avert it?" It will not happen in our lifetime. We will be on another plane,

another dimension, when it happens, but we will see it." Is there no way of teaching humankind? " I kept looking for a way out, for some mitigating possibility.

160 Brian L Weiss, M.D. 161 Many Lives, Many Masters

It will be done on another level. We will learn from that." I looked on the bright side. “Well, then our souls progress in different places." Yes. We will no longer be … here, as we know it. We will see it." Yes," I conceded. “I have a need to

teach these people, but I don’t know how to reach them. Is there a way, or do they have to learn this for themselves? " You cannot reach everyone. In order to stop the destruction you must reach everyone, and you cannot. It cannot be

stopped. They will learn. When they progress, they will learn. There will be peace, but not here, not here in this dimension." “Eventually there will be peace?" “Yes, on another level." It seems so far away, though," I complained. “People seem so petty now . . . greedy, powerhungry,

hungry, ambitious. They forget about love and understanding and knowledge. There is much to learn." “Yes." Can I write anything to help these people? Is there some way?" You know the way. We do not have to tell you. It will all be to no avail, for we will all reach the level, and they will see.

will see. We are all the same. One is no greater than the next. And all this is just lessons . . . and punishments."

Yes," I agreed. This lesson was a profound one, and I needed time to digest it. Catherine had become silent. We waited, she resting and I pensively absorbed in the

dramatic pronouncements of the past hour. Finally, she broke the spell. The jewels are gone," she whispered. “The jewels are gone. The lights . . . they’re gone." The voices, too? The words?"

Yes. I see nothing." As she paused, her head began to move

from side to side. “A spirit … is looking." At you?" Yes." Do you recognize the spirit?" I’m not sure … I think it might be Edward." Edward had died during the previous year. Edward was truly ubiquitous . He seemed to be always around her.

What did the spirit look like?" Just a … just white . . . like lights. He had no face, not like we know it, but I know it’s he." Was he communicating at all with you?" No, he was just watching."

Was he listening to what

I was saying? " Yes," she whispered. “But he’s gone now. He just wanted to be sure I’m all right." I thought about the popular mythology of the guardian angel. Certainly Edward, in the role of the hovering, loving spirit watching over her to make sure she was all right,

approached such an angelic role. And Catherine had already talked about guardian spirits. I wondered how many of our childhood “myths" were actually rooted in a dimly remembered past. I also wondered about the hierarchy of spirits, about who became a guardian and who a Master, and about

those who were neither, just learning. There must be gradations based upon wisdom and knowledge, with the ultimate goal that of becoming God-like and approaching, perhaps merging somehow, with God. This was the goal that mystic theologians had described in ecstatic terms over the

centuries. They had had glimpses of such a divine union. Short of such personal experience , vehicles such as Catherine, with her extraordinary talent, provided the best view. Edward had gone, and Catherine had become silent. Her

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Weiss, M.D. 163 Many Lives, Many Masters face was peaceful, and she was enveloped in serenity. What a marvelous talent she possessed 鈥攖he ability to see beyond life and beyond death, to talk with the “gods" and to

share their wisdom. We were eating from the Tree of Knowledge, no longer forbidden. I wondered how many apples were left.

Carole’s mother, Minette, was dying from the cancer that had spread from her breast to her bones and liver.

The process had been going on for four years and now could no longer be slowed down by chemotherapy. She was a brave woman who stoically endured the pain and weakness. But the disease was accelerating, and I knew that her death was approaching.

The sessions

with Catherine were going on simultaneously, and I shared the experience and revelations with Minette, I was mildly surprised that she, a practical businesswoman, readily accepted this knowledge and wanted to learn more- I gave her books to read, and she did so avidly. She arranged for and took a course with Carole and

me in kabbalah , the Jewish mystical writings that are centuries old. Reincarnation and the in-between planes are basic tenets of kabbalistic literature, yet most modernday Jews are unaware of this. Minette’s spirit strengthened as her body deteriorated. Her fear of death diminished. She began to anticipate being re

united with her beloved husband, Ben. She believed in the immortality of her soul, and this helped her endure the pain. She was holding on to life, awaiting the birth of another grandchild, her daughter Donna’s first baby. She had met Catherine in the hospital during one of her treatments, and their eyes and words joined

peacefully and eagerly. Catherine’s sincerity and honesty helped convince Minette that the existence of an afterlife was indeed true. A week before she died, Minette was admitted to the hos-

pital’s oncology floor. Carole and I were able

to spend time with her, talking about life and death, and what awaited us all after death. A lady of great dignity, she decided to die in the hospital, where the nurses could care for her. Donna, h e r hus band, and their sixweek-old daughter came to spend time with her and say good-bye. We were almost continuously

with her. About six in the evening of the night Minette died, Carole and I, having just arrived home from the hospital, both experienced a strong urge to go back. The next six or seven hours were filled with serenity and a ttanscendental spiritual energy. Although her breathing was labored,

Minette had no more pain. We talked about her transition to the inbetween state, the bright light, and the spiritual presence. She reviewed her life, mostly silently, and struggled to accept the negative parts. She seemed to know that she couldn’t let go until this process was completed.

She was waiting for a very specific time to die, in the early morning. She grew impatient for this time to come. Minette was the first person I had guided to and through death in this manner. She was strengthened, and our grief was assuaged by the entire experience.

I found that my

ability to heal my patients had significantly expanded, not just with phobias and anxieties, but especially in deathand-dying, or grief, counseling. I intuitively knew what was wrong and what directions to take in therapy. I was able to convey feelings of peacefulness, calm, and hope. After Minette’s death, many

others who were either dying or who were the survivors of a loved one’s death came for help. Many were not ready to know about Catherine or the literature about life after death. But even without imparting such specific knowledge, I felt that I could still deliver the mes sage. A tone of

voice, an empathic understanding of the process and of their fears and feelings, a look, a touch, a word-all could get through, at some level, and touch a chord of

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hope, of forgotten spirituality, of shared humanity, or even more. And

for those ready for more, to suggest readings and to share my experiences with Catherine and others was like opening a window to a fresh breeze. The ones who were ready were revived. They gained insights even more rapidly. I believe strongly that therapists must have open minds. Just as

more scientific work is necessary to document death-anddying experiences, such as Catherine’s, so is more experiential work necessary in the field. Therapists need to consider the possibility of life after death and integrate it into their counseling. They do not have to use hypnotic regressions, but they should keep their

minds open, share their knowledge with their patients, and not discount their patients’ experiences.

People are now devastated by threats to their mortality. The plague of AIDS, nuclear holocaust, terrorism, disease, and many other catastrophes hang over our heads and torture us daily. Many teenagers

believe that they won’t live past their twenties. This is incredible, reflecting the tremendous stresses in our society. On the individual level, Minette’s reaction to Catherine’s messages is encouraging. Her spirit had strengthened, and she had felt hope in the face of great physical pain and bodily

deterioration. But the messages are for all of us, not just the dying. There is hope for us, too. “We need more clinicians and scientists to report on other Catherines, to confirm and expand her messages. The answers are there. We are immortal. We will always be together.

CHAPTER 12
hree and a half months had passed since our first hypnosis session. Not only had Catherine’s symptoms virtually dis appeared, but she had progressed beyond merely being cured. She was radiant, with a peaceful energy

T

around her. People were drawn to her. When she ate breakfast in the hospital cafeteria, both men and women would rush to join her. “You look so beautiful; I just wanted to tell you that," they would say. Like a fisher, she would reel them in on an invisible psychic line. And

she had been eating unnoticed in the same cafeteria for years. As usual, she sank quickly into a deep hypnotic trance in my dimly lit office, her blond hair spilling over in rivulets on the familiar beige pillow. I see a building . . . it’s made out of stone. And there’s something

pointed on the top of it. It’s in a very mountainous area. It’s very damp . . . it’s very damp outside. I see a wagon. I see a wagon going by … the front. The wagon has hay in it, some kind of straw or hay or something for the animals to eat. There are some men there. They’re carrying some type of banners, something

flying on the end of a stick. Very bright colors. I hear them talking about Moors . . . Moors. And a war that’s being fought. There’s some type of

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metal, something metal covering their heads . . . some type of head covering made of metal. The year is 1483Something about Danes. Are we fighting the Danes? Some war is being fought." Are you there?" I questioned.

I don’t see that," she answered softly. “I see the wagons. They have two wheels on them, two wheels and an open back. They’re open; the sides are open with slats, some type of wooden slats held together. I see … something metal they wear around their necks . . . very heavy metal in the shape

of a cross. But the ends are curved, the ends are round … on the cross. It’s the feast of some saint. … I see swords. They have some type of knife or sword . . . very heavy, very blunt end. They are preparing for some battle." See if you can find yourself," I instructed. “Look around.

Perhaps you’re a soldier. You’re seeing them from some where," I’m not a soldier." She was definite about this, “Look around."

I have brought some of the provisions. It’s a village, some village." She was silent. “What do you see now?"

I see a banner, some type of banner. It’s red and white . . . white with a red cross." Is it the banner of your people?" I asked. “It’s the banner of the king’s soldiers," she responded. “Is this your king?" “Yes." Do you know the king’s name?" “I don’t

hear that. He’s not there." Can you look and see what you’re wearing? Look down and see what you’re wearing." “Some type of leather , . . leather tunic over . . . over a very rough shirt. A leather tunic . . . it’s short. Some type of animalskin shoes . . . not shoes, more like

boots or moccasins . No one’s talking to me." I understand. What color is your hair?" It’s light, but I’m old, and there’s some gray to it." How do you feel about this war?" It has become my way of life. I’ve lost a child

in a previous skirmish." A son? " Yes," She was sad. Who’s left for you? Who’s left in your family?" My wife . . . and my daughter." .^ What was your son’s name?" I don’t see his name. I

remember him. I see my wife." Catherine had been both male and female many times. Childless in her present life, she had parented numerous children in her other lifetimes. What does your wife look like?" She’s very tired, very tired. She’s old. We have some goats."

Does your daughter still live with you?" * No, she is married and left some time ago." Are you alone, then, you and your wife?" Yes." How is your life?" We are tired. We are very poor. It has not

been easy." No. You’ve lost your son. Do you miss him?" Yes," she answered simply, but the grief was palpable.

Have you been a farmer?" I changed the subject. Yes. There’s wheat . .

. wheat, something like wheat." Have there been many wars in your land, through your life, with much tragedy?" Yes." 170 Brian L. Weiss, M.D, Many Lives, Many Masters 171 But you have lived to

be old." But they fight away from the village, n o t in the village," she explained. “They must travel to where they do battle . . . over many mountains."

Do you know the name of the land that you live in? Or the town?" I don’t see it,

but it must have a name. I don’t see it." Is this a very religious time for you? You see crosses on the soldiers." For others, yes. Not for me." Is anybody alive yet from the rest of your family, other than your wife

and your daughter? " No." Your parents have died?" Yes." Brothers and sisters? " I have a sister. She is alive. I don’t know her," she added, referring to her life as Catherine.

Okay.

See if you recognize anyone else in the village or your family." If people did reincarnate in groups, she was likely to find someone there who was also significant in her current lifetime. I see a stone table … I see bowls." Is this your house? " Yes.

Something made out of ker . . . something yellow, something from corn … or something . . . yellow. We eat this. . . ." All right," I added, trying to quicken the pace. “This has been a very hard life for you, a very hard life. What are you thinking of?" Horses," she whispered.

Do you own horses? Or does somebody else?" No, soldiers . . . some of them. Mostly they walk. But they’re not horses; they’re donkeys or something littler than horses. They are mostly wild." Go ahead in time now," I instructed. “You’re very old. Try to go to the last

day in your lifetime as an old man." But I’m not very old," she objected. She was not particularly suggestible in these past lives. What was happening was happening. I could not suggest away the actual memories. I could not get her to change the details of what had happened and been remembered.

Is there more to happen in this lifetime?" I asked, changing my approach. “It is important for us to know." Nothing of significance," she answered without emotion.

Then, go ahead, go ahead in time. Let’s find out what you needed to learn. Do

you know?" No. I’m still there." Yes, I know. Are you seeing something? " A minute or two passed before she answered. I’m just floating," she whispered softly. Have you left him now?" Yes, I’m floating." She had

entered the spiritual state again. Do you know now what you needed to learn? It was another hard lifetime for you." I don’t know. I’m just floating."

Okay. Rest . . . rest." More minutes passed silently. Then she seemed to be listening to something.

Abruptly she spoke. Her voice was loud and deep. This was not Catherine. There are seven planes in all, seven planes, each one consisting of many levels, one of them being the plane of recollection . On that plane you are allowed to collect your thoughts. You are allowed to see your life that has just

passed. Those of 172 Brian L Weiss, M.D. 173 Many Lives, Many Masters the higher levels are allowed to see history. They can go back and teach us by learning about history. But we of the lower levels are only

only allowed to see our own life . . . that has just passed. We have debts that must be paid. If we have not paid out these debts, then we must take them into another life … in order that they may be worked through. You progress by paying your debts. Some souls

progress faster than others. When you’re in physical form and you are working through, you’re working through a life. … If something interrupts your ability … to pay that debt, you must return to the plane of recollection, and there you must wait until the soul you owe the debt to has come to see you. And when

you both can be returned to physical form at the same time, then you are allowed to return. But you determine when you are going back. You determine what must be done to pay that debt. You will not remember your other lives . . . only the one you have just come from. Only those souls on the higher level鈥攖he

sages 鈥攁re allowed to call upon history and past events . . . to help us, to teach us what we must do. There are seven planes . . . seven through which we must pass before we are returned. One of them is the plane of transition. There you wait. In that plane it is determined what you will take

back with you into the next life. We will all have … a dominant trait. This might be greed, or it might be lust, but whatever is determined, you need to fulfill your debts to those people. Then you must overcome this in that lifetime. You must learn to overcome greed. If you do not, when you return you will have to

carry that trait, as well as another one, into your next life. The burdens will become greater. With each life that you go through and you did not fulfill these debts, the next one will be harder. If you fulfill them, you will be given an easy life. So you choose what life you will have. In

the next phase, you are responsible for the life you have. You choose it." Catherine fell silent. This was apparently not from a Master. He identified himself as “we of the lower levels," in comparison with those souls on the higher level鈥?the sages." But the knowledge transmitted was both clear and practical. I wondered

about the five other planes and their qualities. Was the stage of renewal one of those planes? And what about the learning stage and the stage of decisions? All of the wisdom revealed through these messages from souls in various dimensions of the spiritual state was consistent. The style of delivery differed,

the phraseology and grammar differed, the sophistication of verse and vocabulary differed; but the content remained coherent. I was acquiring a systematic body of spiritual knowledge. This knowledge spoke of love and hope, faith and charity. It examined virtues and vices, debts owed to others and

to one’s self. It included past lifetimes and spiritual planes between lives. And it talked of the soul’s progress through harmony and balance, love and wisdom, progress toward a mystical and ecstatic connection with God. There was much practical advice along the way: the value of

patience and of waiting; the wisdom in the balance of nature; the eradication of fears, especially the fear of death; the need for learning about trust and forgiveness; the importance of learning not to judge others, or to halt anyone’s life; the accumulation and use of intuitive powers; and, perhaps

most of all, the unshakable knowledge that we are immortal. We are beyond life and death, beyond space and beyond time. We are the gods, and they are us. I’m floating," Catherine was whispering softly. What state are you in?" I asked. Nothing . . . I’m floating. . . . Edward

owes me something … he owes me something."

174
Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters 175 Do you know what he owes you?" “No. . . . Some

knowledge … he owes me. He had something to tell me, maybe about my sister’s child." “Your sister’s child?" I echoed. “Yes . . . it’s a girl. Her name is Stephanie." “Stephanie? What do you need to know about her? " “I need to know how to get in touch with her," she answered . Catherine had never mentioned anything to me about this

niece. Is she very close to you?" I asked. “No, but she’ll want to find them." “Find who?" I questioned. I was confused. “My sister and her husband. And the only way she can do that is through me. I’m the link. He has information. Her father is a doctor; he’s practicing somewhere in

Vermont, the southern part of Vermont. The information will come to me when it’s needed." I later learned that Catherine’s sister and her sister’s future husband had put their infant daughter up for adoption. They were teenagers at that time, and they were not yet married. The

adoption was arranged by the Church. There was no in formation available after that time. Yes," I agreed. “When it’s the right time." “Yes. Then he will tell me. He’ll tell me." “What other information does he have for you?" “I don’t know, but he has things to tell me. And he owes me something …

something. I don’t know what. He owes me something." She was silent. “Are you tired?" I asked. I see a bridle" was her whispered reply. “Tackle on the wall. A bridle … I see a blanket lying on the outside of a stall." Is it a barn?" They have horses there. They

have many horses."

What else do you see?" I see many trees 鈥攚ith yellow flowers. My father is there. He takes care of the horses." I realized I was talking to a child. What does he look like?" He’s very tall, with

gray hair." Do you see yourself? " I’m a child … a girl." Does your father own the horses or just take care of them?" He just takes care of them. We live nearby."

Do you like horses? " Yes."

Do you have a favorite? " Yes. My horse. His name is Apple." I remembered her lifetime as Mandy, when a horse named Apple had also appeared . Was she again repeating a lifetime we had already experienced? Perhaps she was approaching it from another perspective.

Apple . . . yes. Does your father let you ride Apple?" No, but I can feed him things. He’s used for pulling the master’s wagon, pulling his carriage. He’s very big. He has big feet. If you’re not careful, he’ll step on you." Who else is with you?" My mother is there. I see

a sister . . . she’s bigger than me. I don’t see anyone else." What do you see now?" I just see the horses." Is this a happy time for you?" Yes. I like the smell of the barn." She was being very specific, referring to that moment in time, in the barn.

Do you smell the horses? "

176
Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters 177 ‘Yes."

The hay?" Yes . . . their faces are so soft. There are dogs there, too , . . black

ones, some black ones and some cats . . . lots of animals. The dogs are used for hunting. When they hunt for birds, the dogs are allowed to go." “Does anything happen to you?" “No." My question was too vague. “Do you grow up on this farm?" Yes. The man who is

taking care of the horses." She paused. “He’s not really my father." I was confused. “He’s not your real father?" I don’t know, he’s . . . he’s not my real father, no. But he is like a father to me. He’s a second father. He is very good to me. He has green eyes." Look his

in

in his eyes 鈥攇reen eyes 鈥攁nd see if you can recognize him. He’s good to you. He loves you." He’s my grandfather . . . my grandfather. He loved us very much. My grandfather loved us very much. He used to take us out with him all the time. We used to go with him to where he would drink. And we could get sodas.

He liked us." My question had jolted her out of that lifetime into her observing, superconscious state. She was viewing Catherine’s life now and her relationship with her grandfather. “Do you still miss him?" I asked. “Yes," she answered softly. But you see he has been with you before." I was explaining , trying to minimize

minimize her hurt. He was very good to us. He loved us. He never hollered at us. He used to give us money and take us with him all the time. He liked that. But he died." Yes, but you’ll be with him again. You know that." Yes. I’ve been with him before. He

before. He was not like my father. They’re so different." Why does one love you so much and treat you so well, and the other one is so different?" Because one has learned. He has paid a debt he has owed. My father has not paid his debt. He has come back . . . without understanding. He will have to do it again."

Yes," I agreed. “He has to learn to love, to nurture."

Yes," she answered.

If they don’t understand this," I added, “they treat children like property, instead of like people to love." Yes," she agreed. Your father still has

to learn this." Yes." Your grandfather already knows. . . ." I know," she interjected. We have so many stages we go through when we’re in physical state . . . just like the other stages of evolution. We have to go through the infancy stage, the baby stage, the child stage. . . .

We have so far to go before we reach . . . before we reach our goal. The stages in physical form are hard. Those in the astral plane -are easy. There we just rest and wait. These are the hard stages now." How many planes are there in the astral state?" There are seven,"

she answered.

What are they," I questioned, looking to confirm those beyond the two mentioned earlier in the session. I’ve only been told two," she explained. “The transition stage and the stage of recollection."

Those are the two that I’m

familiar with, also." We will know the others later." You have learned at the same time I did," I observed. “We learned today about debts. It is very important."

178 Brian L. Weiss, M.D.

I will remember what I should remember," she added enigmatically.

Will you remember these planes?" I inquired.

No. They aren’t important to me. They are important to you." I had heard this before. This was for me. To help her, but more than that.

To help me, but more than that, too. Yet I could not quite fathom what the greater purpose could be. You seem to be getting so much better now," I went on. “You are learning so much." Yes," she agreed. Why are people now so drawn to you? Attracted

to you? " Because I’ve been freed from so many fears, and I’m able to help them. They feel some psychic pull to me." Are you able to deal with this?" Yes." There was no question about it. “I’m not afraid," she added. Good, I will help

you." I know," she replied. “You’re my teacher."

CHAPTER 13
atherine had gotten rid of her distressing symptoms. She was healthy beyond normal. Her lifetimes were beginning to repeat. I knew we

c

knew we were approaching a termination point, but what I did not realize on this autumn day as she again settled into her hypnotic trance was that five months would elapse between this hypnosis session and her next, which would be her last. I see carvings," she began. “Some of

them are done in gold. I see clay. People are making pots. They’re red . . . some type of red material they’re using. I see a brown building, some type of brown structure. That’s where we are." “Are you in the brown building or near it?" “I’m in it. We’re working on different things." “Can you

see yourself while you’re working?" I asked. “Can you describe yourself, what you’re wearing? Look down, What do you look like?" I have some type of red … some long red material on. I have funny shoes, like sandals. I have brown hair. I’m working on making some type

of figure. It’s a figure of a man . . . a man. He has some kind of a stick, a … a rod in his hand. The other people are making things out of … some out of metals." Is this done in a factory? "

181 182 Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Many

Lives, Many Masters 183 It’s just a building. The building’s made out of stone." “The statue that you’re working on, the man with the stick, do you know who it is?" No, it’s just a man. He takes care of the cattle . . . the

cows. There are lots of them [statues] around. We just know what they look like. It’s a very funny material. It’s hard to work on. It keeps crumbling."

Do you know the name of the material? " “I don’t see that. Just red, something red." “What will happen

to the statue after you make it?" “It will be sold. Some will be sold in the marketplace. Some will be given to the different nobles. Only those with the finest workmanship will be given to the houses of nobles. The rest will be sold." Do you ever

deal with these nobles? " No." Is this your job?" Yes." Do you like it?" Yes." Have you been doing this long?" No." Are

you good at it?" Not very." Do you need more experience? " Yes, I’m only learning."

I understand. Do you still live with your family? " I don’t know, but I see brown

boxes." Brown boxes?" I repeated.

They have little openings. They have a doorway in them, and some of the statues sit inside the door. They’re made of wood, some type of wood. We have to make the statues for them." What is the function of the statues?

" They’re religious," she answered.

What religion is there 鈥攖he statue? " There are many gods, many protectors . . . many gods. People are very frightened. There are many things made here. We make games, too . . . game

boards with holes in them. Animal heads go in the holes." Do you see anything else there?" It’s very hot, very hot and dusty . . . sandy." Is there water around? " Yes, it comes down from the mountains." This

lifetime was beginning to sound familiar, too. Are the people afraid?" I explored. “Are they superstitious people?" Yes," she answered. “There’s much fear. Everyone is afraid. I’m afraid, too. We must protect ourselves. There is sickness. We must protect ourselves."

What

kind of sickness? " Something is killing everyone. Lots of people are dying." From the water?" I inquired.

Yes. It’s very dry … very hot, because the gods are angry, and they are punishing us." She was revisiting the lifetime with the

tannis cure. I recognized the religion of fear, the religion of Osiris and Hathor. Why are the gods angry?" I asked, already knowing the answer, Because we have disobeyed the laws. They are angry." What laws have you disobeyed? "

Those that have been set down by the nobles." How can you appease the gods?" You must wear certain things. Some people wear things around their necks. They will help you with the evil." Is there a particular god that the people

fear most?"

184
Brian L Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters They’re afraid of all of them." Do you know the names of any gods?" I don’t know the names. I only see them.

There’s one that has a human body but has the head of an animal. There’s another one that looks like a sun. There’s one that looks like a bird; he’s black. They run a rope around their necks." Do you live through all this? " Yes, I do not die." But

members of your family do." I remembered.

Yes . . . my father. My mother is okay." Your brother? " My brother . . . he’s dead," she remembered.

Why do you survive? Is there something particular about

about you? Something you’ve done?" No," she answered, then changed the focus. “I see something with oil in it." What do you see?" Something white. It almost looks like marble. It’s . . . alabaster . . . some type of basin . . . they have oil in it. It’s used to anoint the heads. . . ."

. . . of the priests? “I added. Yes." What is your function now? Do you help with the oil?" No. I make the statues."

Is this in the same brown building? "

No . . . it’s later … a temple." She looked distressed for some reason. Is there a problem there for you?" Somebody has done something in the temple that has angered the gods. I don’t know. . . ." Was it you?" No, no, … I just see priests.

They are preparing some sacrifice, some animal . . . it’s a lamb. Their heads are bald. They have no hair on them at all, nor on their faces. . . ." She fell silent, and minutes slowly passed. Abruptly she be came alert, as if she were listening to something. When she spoke, her voice was

deep. A Master was present. It is on this plane that some souls are allowed to manifest themselves to the people who are still in physical form. They are allowed to come back . . . only if they have left some agreement unfulfilled. On this plane intercommunication is allowed. But the other planes. . . . This is

where you’re al lowed to use your psychic abilities and communicate with people in physical form. There are many ways to do this. Some are allowed the power of sight and can show them selves to the people still in physical form. Others have the power of movement and are allowed to

telepathically move objects. You only go to this plane if it is useful for you to go there. If you have left an agreement that has not been fulfilled, you may choose to go here and communicate in some way. But that is all … to which the agreement must be fulfilled. If your life had been abruptly ended, this would be a reason for

you to go to this plane. Many people choose to come here because they are allowed to see those who are still in physical form and very close to them. But not everyone chooses to have communication with these. To some people it may be too frightening." Catherine fell silent and seemed to be resting. She began

to whisper very softly. I see the light." Does the light give you energy? “I asked. It’s like starting over . . . it’s a rebirth." How can people in physical form feel this energy? How can they tap into it and be recharged? "

By their minds," she answered softly. But how do they reach this state?" They must be in a very relaxed state. You can renew 186 187 Many Lives, Many Masters Brian L. Weiss, M.D.

through light . . . through light. You must be very relaxed so you no longer are expending energy, but you are renewing yours. When you sleep you get renewed." She was in her superconscious state, and I decided to expand the questioning.

How many times have you been reborn?" I

asked. “Have they all been here in this environment, the earth, or elsewhere as well?" No," she answered, “not all here." What other planes, what other places, do you go to?" I have not finished what I have to do here. I cannot move on until I’ve

experienced all of life, and I have not. There will be many lifetimes … to fulfill all of the agreements and all of the debts that are owed." But you are making progress," I observed.

We always make progress."

How many times have you been through

lifetimes on the earth?" Eightysix."

Yes." Do you remember them all?" I will, when it is important for me to remember them." We had experienced either fragments or major portions of ten or twelve lives, and, lately these had

these had been repeating. Apparently she had no need to remember the remaining seventyfive or so lifetimes. She had indeed made remarkable progress, at least in my terms. What progress she made from here, from this point, might not depend on the recollection of lifetimes. Her future progress might not even

depend on me or my help. She began to whisper softly again. Some people touch the astral plane by using drugs, but they do not understand what they have experienced. But they have been allowed to cross over." I had not asked her about drugs. She was teaching, sharing

knowledge, whether I asked specifically or not. Can’t you use your psychic powers to help you progress here?" I asked. “You seem to be developing these more and more." Yes," she agreed. “It is important, but not so important here as it will be in the other planes. That is

part of evolution and growth." Important to me and to you?" Important to all of us," she replied. How do we develop these faculties? " You develop through relationships. There are some with higher powers who have come back with more knowledge.

They will seek out those who need the development and help them." She lapsed into a long silence. Leaving her superconscious state, she entered another lifetime. I see the ocean. I see a house near the ocean. It’s white. The ships come and go from the port. I can smell the seawater." Are

you there?" Yes." What is the house like?" It is small. It has some type of tower on the top … a window where you might look out onto the sea. It has some type of telescope. It’s brass, wood and brass." Do you use this telescope? " Yes, to

look for the ships." What do you do?" We report the merchant vessels when they come into port." I remembered she had done this in another past life time, when she was Christian, the sailor whose hand was wounded during a naval battle. Are you a sailor?"

I asked, looking for confirmation.

Many Lives, Many Masters 189 188 Brian L Weiss, M.D. I don’t know . . . maybe."

Can you see what you’re wearing? " Yes.

Some type of white shirt and brown short pants and shoes with big buckles. … I am a sailor later in my life, but not now." She could see into her future, but the act of doing so caused her to jump ahead to that future. I’m hurt," she winced, writhing in agony. My hand is hurt." She was

indeed Christian, and she was again reliving the sea battle. ^^ Was there an explosion? " Yes . . . I smell gunpowder!"

You will be all right," I reassured her, already knowing the outcome. Many people are dying!" She was still agitated.

"The sails are torn . . . part of the port side has been blown away." She was scanning the ship for damage. “We must repair the sails. They must be repaired." Do you recover? “I asked. Yes. It’s very difficult to stitch the fabric on the sails." Are

you able to work with your hand?" No, but I’m watching others . . . sails. They’re made of canvas, some type of canvas, very hard to stitch. . . . Many people are dead. They have much pain." She winced. What is it?" This pain . . . in my hand." Your

hand heals. Go ahead in time. Do you sail again?" Yes." She paused. “We are in South Wales. We must defend the coastline." Who is attacking you?" I believe they are Spanish . . . they have a large fleet." What happens next?"

I just see the ship. I see the port. There are shops. In some of the shops they make candles. There are shops where they buy books." Yes. Do you ever go in the book shops? " Yes. I like them very much. The books are wonderful

. . . I see many books. The red one is with history. They are written about towns … the land. There are maps. I like this book. . . . There’s a shop where they have hats." Is there a place where you drink?" I remembered Christian’s description of the ale. Yes, there are many," she

responded. “They serve ale … very dark ale … with some type of meat . . . some mutton and bread, very large bread. The ale is very bitter, very bitter. I can taste it. They have wine, too, and long wooden tables. …" I decided to call her by name, to see her responses. “Christian ," I called emphatically.

She

answered loudly, without hesitation. “Yes! What do you want? " Where is your family, Christian? " They are in an adjacent town. We sail from this port." Who is in your family?" * I have a sister … a sister, Mary."

Where is your girlfriend? " I don’t have one. Just the women in the town." Nobody special? " No, just the women … I returned to sailing. I fight in many battles, but I am safe." You grow old. . . ." Yes."

Do you ever marry? " I believe so. I see a ring." Do you have children? " 190 Brian L. Weiss, M.D.

Yes. My son will also sail. . . . There’s a ring, a ring with a hand. It’s a hand holding

something. I can’t see what. The ring is a hand; it’s a hand clasping something." Catherine began to gag. What’s wrong? " The people on the ship are sick . . . it’s from the food. We’ve eaten some food that is bad. It’s salt pork." Her gagging continued. I took her ahead in time, and the

gagging ceased. I decided not to progress her through Christian’s heart attack again. She was already exhausted, and so I brought her out of the trance.

CHAPTER 14
hree weeks passed before we met again. My brief illness and her

T

vacation had caused the delay. Catherine continued to prosper during this period, but when we began the session, she seemed anxious. She announced that she was doing so well and feeling so much better that she did not feel hypnosis could help her any more than it already had. She was right,

of course. Under ordinary circumstances, we might have be gun terminating therapy weeks ago. We had continued in part because of my interest in the messages from the Masters and because some minor problems still persisted in Catherine’s presentday life.

Catherine was nearly cured, and the lifetimes were repeating. But what if the Masters had more to tell me? How could we communicate without Catherine? I knew she would continue our sessions if I insisted. But I did not feel right about insisting. With some sadness, I agreed with her. We chatted

about the events of the past three weeks, but my heart was not in it. Five months drifted by. Catherine maintained her clinical improvement. Her fears and anxieties were minimal. The quality of her life and her relationships was dramatically uplifted. She was dating other men now, although Stuart was

still in the picture. For the first time since she was a young child, she felt some joy and real happiness in her life. Occa-

193 194
Brian L. Weiss, M.D. Many Lives, Many Masters sionally , we would pass

each other in the hallway or in the cafeteria line, but we had no formal doctorpatient contact. Winter passed and spring began. Catherine scheduled an appointment in the office. She had been having a recurring dream about a religious sacrifice of some sort that involved

snakes in a pit. People, including herself, were being forced into the pit. She was in the pit, trying to climb out by digging her hands into the sandy walls. The snakes were just below her. At this point in the dream she would awaken, her heart pounding wildly.

Despite the long hiatus, she fell quickly into a deep hypnotic state. Not surprisingly, she was instantly back in an ancient lifetime. It is very hot where I am," she began. “I see two black men standing near stone walls that are cold and damp. They have headpieces on. There is a rope around

their right ankles. The rope is braided with beads and tassels coming off it. They are making a storage house out of stone and clay, putting wheat in it, some type of crushed grain. The grain is brought in a cart with iron wheels. Woven mats are on the cart or part of it. I see water, very blue. Someone in charge is giving the orders to the

others. There are three steps down into the granary. There is a statue of a god on the outside. He has the head of an animal, a bird, and the body of a man. He is a god of the seasons. The walls are sealed with some sort of tar to prevent air from coming in and to keep the grain fresh. My face is itching. … I see blue beads in my hair. There are

bugs or flies around, making my face and hands itch. I put something sticky on my face to keep them away … it smells terrible, the sap from some tree. I have braids in my hair and beads in the braids, with gold strings. My hair is dark black. I am part of the royal house- hold. I am

there because of some feast. I have come to watch an anointing of priests … a festivity to the gods for the coming harvest. There are only animal sacrifices, no humans. Blood from the sacrificed animals runs from a white stand into a basin … it runs into the mouth of a serpent. The men

wear small gold hats. Everyone is darkskinned . We have slaves from other lands, from across the sea. . . ." She fell silent, and we were waiting, as if the months had never passed. She seemed to become vigilant, listening to something.

All is so fast and complicated . . . what they are

telling me … about change and growth and different planes. There is a plane of awareness and a plane of transition. We come from one life, and, if the lessons are completed, we move on to another dimension, another life. We must understand fully. If we do not, we are not allowed to pass on …

we must re peat because we do not learn. We must experience from all sides. We must know the side of wanting, but also to give. . . . There is so much to know, so many spirits involved. That is why we are here. The Masters … are just one on this plane." Catherine paused, then

spoke with the voice of the poet Master. He was speaking to me. What we tell you is for now. You must now learn through your own intuition." After a few minutes, Catherine spoke in her soft whisper. “There is a black fence . . . within are tombstones. Yours is there." Mine?" I asked,

surprised at this vision. Yes." Can you read the inscription? " The name is ‘Noble’: 16681724. There is a flower 196 Brian L Weiss, M.D. on it. … It is in France or Russia. You were in a red uniform . . . thrown from a horse. ….

There is a gold ring . . . with a lion’s head . . . used as an insignia. There was no more. I interpreted the poet Master’s statement to mean there would be no more revelations through Catherine’s hypnosis, and this was indeed the case. We were to have no further sessions. Her cure had been complete,

and I had learned all that I could through the regressions. The rest, what lay in the future, I had to learn through my own intuition.

CHAPTER 15
wo months after our last session, Catherine called and scheduled an appointment. She said she had something

T

very interesting to tell me. When she walked into the office, the presence of the new Catherine, happy, smiling, and radiating an inner peace that made her glow, briefly surprised me. For a moment, I thought about the old Catherine and how far she had come in such a very short time.

Catherine h a d gone to see Iris Saltzman, a wellknown psychic astrologer who specialized in past-life readings. I was a little surprised, but I understood Catherine’s curiosity and her need to seek some added confirmation for what she had experienced. I was glad she had the confidence to do this. Catherine had

recently heard about Iris from a friend. She had called and made an appointment without telling Iris about anything that had transpired in my office. Iris had asked her only for the date, time, and place of her birth. From this, Iris explained to her, she would construct an astrological wheel that,

in conjunction with Iris’s intuitive gifts, would enable her to discern details from Catherine’s past lives. This was Catherine’s first experience with a psychic, and she really didn’t know what to expect. To her amazement, Iris

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200 Brian L VPeiss, M.D. 201 Many Lives, Many Masters validated most of what Catherine had discovered under hypnosis.

Iris gradually worked herself into an altered state by talking

and by making notations on the hastily constructed astro logical graph. Minutes after she had entered this state, Iris reached for her own throat and announced that Catherine had been strangled and had had her throat cut in a previous life.

The throat cutting had been in a time of war, and Iris could see flames and destruction in the village many centuries ago. She said that Catherine had been a young man at the time of his death. Iris’s

eyes appeared glazed as she next described Catherine as a young male dressed in a naval uniform, with short black pants and shoes with odd buckles on them. Suddenly Iris grabbed her left hand and felt a throbbing pain, exclaiming that something sharp had entered

and damaged the hand, leaving a permanent scar. There were large sea battles, and the location was off the English coast. She went on to describe a life of sailing. Iris described more fragments of lifetimes. There was a brief life in Paris,

where Catherine was again a boy and had died young, in poverty. Another time she was a female American Indian on the southwest Florida coast. During this life time she was a healer and walked around barefoot. She was darkskinned and had odd eyes. She would apply ointments

to wounds and give herbal medicines, and she was very psychic. She loved to wear blue stone jewelry, a lot of lapis, with a red stone intertwined.

In another lifetime Catherine was Spanish and had lived as a prostitute. Her name began with the letter L She lived with with

an older man. In another life she was the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy father who had many titles. Iris saw the family crest on mugs in me large house. She said that Catherine was very fair and had long, tapering fingers. She played the harp.

Her marriage was arranged. Catherine loved animals, especially horses, and she treated the animals bettet than the people around her. In a,brief lifetime she was a young Moroccan boy who died of an illness in his youth. Once sKelived in Haiti, speaking the

the language and involved in magical practices. In an ancient lifetime she was Egyptian and was involved in the burial rites of that culture. She was a female with braided hair. She had several lifetimes in France and Italy. In one, she lived in Florence and was involve^

with _ religion. She later moved to Switzerland, where she was involved with a mon astery. She was a female and had two sons. She was fond of gold and gold sculpture, and she wore a gold cross. In France she had bein imprisoned in a cold and dark place. ~~" 7n

another life, Iris saw Catherine aT a male in a r e d uni form, involved with horses and soldiers. The uniform was red and gold, probably Russian. In yet another lifetime she was a Nubianjilavejn ancient Egypt. At one point she was captured aTfd thrown into jail. In

still another life, Catherine was a male in_Japan, involved with books and teaching, very scHolafly. She worked with schools and lived to an old age. And, finally, there was a more recent life as a German sol dier who was killed in battle. ~~’~~ ~

~~’~~ ~ “~ I was fascinated by the detailed accuracy of these past-life events as described by Iris. The correspondence to Catherine’s own recall while under hypnotic regression was startlingChristian’s hand injury while in the naval battle and the de scription of his clothes and

shoes; Louisa’s life as a Spanish prostitute; Aronda and the Egyptian burials; Johan, the young
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raider whose throat was cut by a previous incarnation of Stuart while Stuart’s village had burned; Eric, the doomed German pilot; and

and so on. There were also correspondences to Catherine’s present life. For example, Catherine loved blue stone jewelry, especially lapis lazuli. She was not wearing any, however, during her reading with Iris. She had always loved animals,

animals, especially horses and cats, feeling safer with them than with people. And, if she could pick one place in the world to visit, it would be Florence.

By no means would I call this experience a valid scientific experiment. I had

I had no way of controlling the variables. But it happened, and I think it is important to relate it here. I am not sure what occurred that day. Perhaps Iris unconsciously used telepathy and “read" Catherine’s mind, since the past lifetimes were already in Catherine’s

subconscious. Or perhaps Iris really was able to discern past-life information by the use of her psychic abilities, However it was done, the two of them obtained the same information by different means. What Catherine had arrived at through hypnotic regression, Iris had reached through

psychic channels.

Very few people would be able to do what Iris did. Many people who call themselves psychics are merely capitalizing on people’s fears as well as their curiosity about the unknown. Today, “psychic" hacks and fakes seem to be coming out of the woodwork. The popularity of books

such as Shirley MacLaine’s Out on a Limb has brought forth a torrent of new “trance mediums." Many rove around, advertising their presence locally, and they sit in a “trance" telling an enraptured and awestruck audience such platitudes as “If you are not in harmony with nature, nature will not be in harmony

with you." These pronouncements are usually intoned in a voice quite different from the “medium’s" own, often tinged with a 203

Many Lives, Many Masters

foreign accent of some sort. The messages are vague and applicable to a wide variety of

people. Often the messages deal principally with the spiritual dimensions, which are difficult to evaluate. It is important to weed out the false from the true so that the field is not discredited. Serious behavioral scientists are needed to do this important work. Psychiatrists are necessary to make diagnostic

assessments, to rule out mental illness, malingering (faking), and sociopathic (conning) tendencies. Statisticians, psychologists, and physicists are also vital for these evaluations and for further testing. The important strides that are going to be made in this field will be made using scientific

methodology. In science, a hypothesis , which is a preliminary assumption made about a series of observations, is initially created to explain a phenomenon . From there, the hypothesis must be tested under con trolled conditions. The results of these tests must be proved and replicated before a theory can be formed. Once the scientists

have what they think is a sound theory, it must be tested again and again by other researchers, and the results should be the same. The detailed, scientifically acceptable studies of Dr. Joseph B. Rhine at Duke University, of Dr. lan Stevenson at the University of Virginia, Department of Psychiatry, of Dr.

Gertrude Schmeidler at the College of the City of New York, and of many other serious researchers prove that this can be done.

CHAPTER 16
I,

almost four years have passed since Catherine and I shared this incredible experience.

It has changed us both profoundly.

On occasion, she drops into my office to say hello or to dis cuss a problem that she is having. She has never had the need nor the desire to be regressed again, either to deal with a symptom or to find out how new people in her life may have

related to her in the past. Our work is done. Catherine is now free to fully enjoy her life, no longer crippled by her disabling symptoms. She has found a sense of happiness and contentment that she never thought was possible. She no longer fears illness or death. Life has a meaning

and purpose for her now that she is balanced and in harmony with herself. She radiates an inner peace that many wish for but few attain. She feels more spiritual. To Catherine, what has happened is all very real. She does not doubt the veracity of any of it, and she accepts it all as an integral part of

who she is. She has no interest in pursuing the study of psychic phenomena, feeling that she “knows" in a way that cannot be learned from books or lectures. People who are dying or who have a family member dying often seek her out. They seem drawn to her. She sits and talks to them, and they feel

better. My life has changed almost as drastically as Catherine’s. I have become more intuitive, more aware of the hidden, secret

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parts of my patients, colleagues,

and friends. I seem to know a great deal about them, even before I should. My values and life goals have shifted to a more humanistic, less accumulative focus. Psychics, mediums, healers, and others appear in my life with increasing frequency, and I have started

to systematically evaluate their abilities. Carole has developed along with me. She has become particularly skillful in deathanddying counseling , and she now runs support groups for patients dying from AIDS. I have begun to meditate,

something that, until recently, I thought only Hindus and Californians practiced. The lessons transmitted through Catherine have become a conscious part of my daily life. Remembering the deeper meaning of life, and of death as a natural part of life, I have become more patient, more

empathic, more loving. I also feel more responsible for my actions, the negative as well as the lofty. I know there will be a price to pay. What goes around truly does come around. I still write scientific papers, lecture at professional meetings , and run the

Department of Psychiatry. But now I straddle two worlds; the phenomenal world of the five senses, rep resented by our bodies and physical needs; and the greater world of the nonphysical planes, represented by our souls and spirits. I know that the worlds are connected, that all is energy.

Yet they often seem so far apart. My job is to connect the worlds, to carefully and scientifically document their unity. My family has flourished. Carole and Amy have turned out to have aboveaverage psychic abilities, and we playfully encourage the further development of these skills. Jordan has

has become a powerful and charismatic teenager, a natural leader. I am finally becoming less serious, And I sometimes have un usual dreams. During the several months after Catherine’s last session, a 209

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Masters

peculiar tendency had begun to appear during my sleep. I would sometimes have a vivid dream, during which I would either be listening to a lecture or asking questions of the lecturer . The teacher’s name in the dream was Philo. Upon awakening , I would sometimes remember some of

the material dis cussed and jot it down. I am including a few examples here. The first was a lecture, and I recognized the influence of the messages from the Masters. . . . Wisdom is achieved very slowly. This is because intellectual knowledge, easily acquired, must be transformed

into ’emotional,’ or subconscious, knowledge. Once trans formed, the imprint is permanent. Behavioral practice is the necessary catalyst of this reaction. Without action, the concept will wither and fade. Theoretical knowledge without practical application is not enough. Balance and harmony

are neglected today, yet they are the foundations of wisdom. Everything is done to excess. People are overweight because they eat excessively. Joggers neglect aspects of themselves and others because they run excessively. People seem excessively mean. They drink too much, smoke too much, carouse too much (or too

little), talk too much without content, worry too much. There is too much black-orwhite thinking. All or none. This is not the way of nature. In nature there is balance. Beasts destroy in small amounts. Ecological systems are not eliminated en masse. Plants are consumed and then grow. The

sources of sustenance are dipped into and then replenished. The flower is enjoyed, the fruit eaten, the root preserved. Humankind has not learned about balance, let alone practiced it. It is guided by greed and ambition, steered by fear. In this way it will eventually destroy itself. But nature will survive; at least the plants will.

Happiness is really rooted in simplicity. The tendency to
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Brian L Weiss M.D, Many Lives, Many Masters 211 excessiveness in thought and action diminishes happiness. Excesses cloud basic values. Religious

people tell us that happi ness comes from filling one’s heart with love, from faith and hope, from practicing charity and dispensing kindness. They actually are right. Given those attitudes, balance and harmony usually follow. These are collectively a state

of being. In these days, they are an altered state of consciousness. It is as if hu mankind were not in its natural state while on earth. It must reach an altered state in order to fill itself with love and charity and simplicity, to feel purity, to rid itself of its chronic fearfulness.

How does one reach this altered state, this other value system? And once reached, how can it be sustained? The answer appears to be simple. It is the common denominator of all religions. Humankind is immortal, and what we are doing now is learning our lessons. We are

all in school. It is so simple if you can believe in immortality.

If a part of humankind is eternal, and there is much evidence and history to think so, then why are we doing such bad things to ourselves? Why do we step on and over others for our personal ‘gain’ when

actually we’re flunking the lesson? We all seem to be going to the same place ultimately, albeit at different speeds. No one is greater than another. Consider the lessons. Intellectually the answers have al ways been there, but this need to actualize by experience, to make the

subconscious imprint permanent by ’emotionalizing ‘ and practicing the concept, is the key. Memorizing in Sunday School is not good enough. Lip service without the behavior has no value. It is easy to read about or to talk about love and charity and faith. But to do it, to feel it, almost requires an altered state of

consciousness. Not the transient state induced by drugs, alcohol, or unexpected emotion. The perma- nent state is reached by knowledge and understanding. It is sustained by physical behavior, by act and deed, by practice. It is taking something nearly mystical and transforming

it to everyday familiarity by practice, making it a habit. Understand that no one is greater than another. Feel it. Practice helping another. We are all rowing the same boat. If we don’t pull together, out plants are going to be awfully lonely." On another night, in a different

dream I was asking a question . “How is it that you say all are equal, yet the obvious contradictions smack us in the face: inequalities in virtues, temperances , finances, rights, abilities and talents, intelligence, mathematical aptitude, ad infinitum? " The answer was a metaphor. “It is as if a large

diamond were to be found inside each person. Picture a diamond a foot long. The diamond has a thousand facets, but the facets are covered with dirt and tar. It is the job of the soul to clean each facet until the surface is brilliant and can reflect a rainbow of colors. Now, some have cleaned

many facets and gleam brightly. Others have only managed to clean a few; they do not sparkle so. Yet, underneath the dirt, each person possesses within his or her breast a brilliant diamond with a thousand gleaming facets. The diamond is perfect, not one flaw. The only differences among people are

the number of facetscleaned. But each diamond is the same, and each is perfect. When all the facets are cleaned and shining forth in a spectrum of lights, the diamond returns to the pure energy that it was originally. The lights remain. It is as if the process that goes into making the diamond is

reversed, all that pressure released. The pure energy exists in the rainbow of lights, and the lights possess consciousness and knowledge.

212 Brian L Weiss, M.D,

And all of the diamonds are perfect."

Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers simple.

What am I to do?" I was asking in a dream. “I know I can treat and heal people in pain. They come to me in numbers beyond

what I can handle. I am so tired. Yet can I say no when they are so needy and I can help rhem ? Is it right to say ‘No, enough already? ‘" Your role is not to be a lifeguard" was the answer.

The last example I will cite was a message to other psychiatrists . I awakened about six in the morning from a dream where I was giving a lecture, in this instance to a vast audience of psychiatrists,

In the rush toward the

medicalization of psychiatry, it is important that we do not abandon the traditional, albeit some times vague, teachings of our profession. We are the ones who still talk to our patients, patiently and with compassion. We still take the time to do this. We promote

the conceptual understanding of illness, healing with understanding and the induced discovery of selfknowledge, rather than just with laser beams. We still use hope to heal. In this day and age, other branches of medicine are finding these

traditional approaches to healing much too inefficient , timeconsuming, and unsubstantiated. They prefer technology to talk, computergenerated blood chemistries to the personal physicianpatient chemistry, which heals the patient and provides satisfaction to the doctor. Idealistic, ethical,

personally gratifying approaches to medicine lose ground to economic, efficient, insulating, and satisfactiondestroying approaches . As a result, our colleagues feel increasingly isolated and depressed. The patients feel rushed and empty, uncared for.

We

should avoid being seduced by high technology.

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Rather, we should be the role models for our colleagues. We should demonstrate how patience, understanding, and com

passion help both patient and physician. Taking more time to talk, to teach, to awaken hope and the expectation of recovery 鈥攖hese halfforgotten qualities of the physician as healer鈥?these we must always use ourselves and be an example to our fellow

physicians.

High technology is wonderful in research and to promote the understanding of human illness and disease. It can be an invaluable clinical tool, but it can never replace those inherently personal characteristics and methods of the true physician .

Psychiatry can be the most dignified of the medical specialties . We are the teachers. We should not abandon this role for the sake of assimilation, especially not now." I still have such dreams, although only occasionally. Often, in meditation, or sometimes while driving on

the highway, or even while daydreaming, phrases and thoughts and visualizations will pop into my mind. These often seem very different from my conscious and usual way of thinking or conceptualizing . They are frequently very timely and solve questions or problems I am having.

I use them in therapy and in my everyday life. I consider these phenomena to be an expansion of my intuitive abilities, and I am heartened by them. To me, they are signs that I am headed in the right direction, even if I have a long way to go. I listen to my dreams and intuitions. When I do, things seem to fall into place. When I do not, something invariably goes awry.

I still feel the Masters around me. I do not know for sure whether my dreams and intuitions are influenced by them, but I suspect so.


EPILOGUE

THE book is now completed, but the story goes on. Catherine remains cured, without any recurrence of her original symp toms. I have been very careful about regressing other patients. I am guided by the patient’s particular constellation o f symp toms and by his or her refractoriness to other treatments, by the ability to be easily hypnotized, by the patient’s openness to this approach, and by an intuitive feeling on my part that this is the path to take. Since Catherine, I have done detailed regressions to multiple past lives in a dozen more patients. None of these patients was psychotic, hallucinating, or experiencing multiple personalities. All improved dramatically.

The twelve patients have widely disparate backgrounds and personalities.

A Jewish housewife from Miami Beach vividly remembered being raped by a group of Roman soldiers in Palestine shortly after the death of Jesus. She ran a nineteenthcentury brothel in New Orleans, lived in a monastery in France in the Middle Ages, and had a distressing Japanese lifetime. She is the only one of the patients other than Catherine who could transmit messages back from the inbetween state. Her messages have been extremely psychic. She, too, knew facts and events from my past. She has even more of a facility for accurately predicting future events. Her messages come from a particular spirit, and I am currently in the process of carefully cataloging her sessions. I am still the scientist. All of her material must be scrutinized, evaluated, and validated. The others were not able to remember much beyond dying, leaving their bodies, and floating to the bright light. None could transmit messages or thoughts back to me. But all had vivid memories of previous lifetimes. A brilliant stockbroker lived a pleasant but boring life in Victorian England. An artist was tortured during the Spanish Inquisition. A restaurant owner, who could not drive over bridges or through tunnels, remembered being buried alive in an ancient NearEastern culture. A young physician recalled his trauma at sea, when he was a Viking. A television executive was tormented six hundred years ago in Florence. The list of patients goes on. These people remembered still other lifetimes as well. Symptoms resolved as the lifetimes unfolded. Each now firmly believes that he or she has lived before and will again. Their fear of death has diminished.
It is not necessary that everyone has regression therapy or visits psychics or even meditates. Those with disabling or bothersome symptoms may choose to do so. For the rest, keeping an open mind is the most important task. Realize that life is more than meets the eye. Life goes beyond our five senses. Be receptive to new knowledge and to new experiences. “Out task is to learn, to become God-like through knowledge."

I am no longer concerned with the effect this book may have on my career. The information that I have shared is far more important and, if heeded, will be far more beneficial to the world than anything I can do on an individual basis in my office. I hope that you will be helped by what you have read here, that your own fear of death has been diminished, and that the messages offered to you about the true meaning of life will free you to go about living yours to the fullest, seeking harmony and inner peace and reaching out in love to your fellow humans.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

After graduating magna cum laude from Columbia University and receiving his medical degree at the Yale University School of Medicine, Brian L. Weiss, M.D., served his internship at New York University’s Bellevue Medical Center and went on to become chief resident, Department of Psychiatry, at the Yale University School of Medicine. Currently, Dr. Weiss is chairman of the Department of Psychiatry at Mount Sinai Medical Center in Miami Beach, Florida, and clinical associate professor, Department of Psychiatry, at the University of Miami School of Medicine. He specializes in the study and treatment of depression and anxiety states, sleep disorders, substance abuse disorders, Alzheimer’s Disease, and brain chemistry.
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