This isn't the title of the latest James Bond movie, but refers to the fact that I'm a walk-in, as I realized in my Chinese past life rememberance.
Copied and pasted from my page Admin’s history:
During the course of this year I've come to realize that certain feelings and images in my head that I've had for all of my life go back to an incarnation in China. Maybe that was the Chinese version of my Banduri lifetime, in the sense that I was a child from a bloodline of psychically active women. In order to deal with the threat that I was under, I was brought to a secluded place, a house built into a vertical wall of a gorge at high altitude. I remember spending most of my time in a rather large room with very high windows, easily seven meters high, separated by heavy dark brown wooden beams. Not much to do there, except for the spectacular view across and into the gorge, the opposing side several hundred meters away. At one point a man lowered himself on a rope and sat there like a spider in the upper left corner of the left most window, a sight that still gives me the creeps, although I don't think things ended well for that guy.
During the past weeks I've been waiting for clues on how that lifetime went on, but it seems that it didn't. The man on the window blew himself up and I was killed in the blast.
The thing is, that lifetime and my present life overlapped for a few years. I'm a walk-in. This knowing has changed my sense of self more than any previous past life realization. Fact is indeed stranger than fiction.
And like I said on Admin's history, don't expect any cheery stories about glorious lifetimes, because it's the trauma that pierces through the veils of forgetfulness, not the happy days, at least not yet.
A famous walk-in was Abraham Lincoln, a chronically depressed soul that made a deal with another soul (at soul-level) to replace him, so that the public figure Lincoln could complete his role in history, unimpeded by depression.
For many years I have wondered why I don't have any memories from before I was four years old and also about the boy that I seemed to be before that. In the mid-sixties my father was a super-8 film enthusiast, and, among other things, made films about the boisterous toddler that I seemed to be, so much at variance with the lonely and desperate childhood that I remember. My family must have seen the discontinuity, but never really mentioned it.
So there I was, a Chinese girl in a Dutch boy's skin in a new family that I have problematic karmic ties with, see My father, the reptilian and Admin’s history, the latter page detailing this aspect of my, and my sister's soul history.
In a sense a walk-in is like any other incarnation in that you don't have any concrete memories of previous lives, except that normally souls take some time to recuperate from a previous life and to evaluate, but in my case it was all very sudden and instantaneous, at least, that's how it feels.
Another difference is that a newly born is a blank slate, while a walk-in's body already has an imprint of a life and a soul on its nervous system and cellular memory. The creation of a walk-in is like emptying a cup, where due to adhesion a thin layer with droplets remains. Likewise the consciousness of the previous person lingers in the nervous system, but I don't seem to have the memories collected by the previous soul.
As you can see, the Chinese have a flair for building in strange places. The place where I was didn't have the ornateness of traditional Chinese building but seemed modern, with large glass panels for windows.
I know now that I'm not Maarten. That's a name given to someone else and I wasn't there when Maarten was born. But I have taken excellent care of his body and he can have it back when time comes, with the most profound thanks, and brotherly love and blessings, presumably at the end of the Ascension process.
My sleep time consists of a series of cat naps of one, two or four hours at the most. It's the in-between time when I have my past life remembrances. My dreams during sleep-time consist of variations on real-life occurrences and are boring and meaningless. I have been intrigued, however, by dreams about a small group of people in a rather gloomy, twilight setting. The "image quality" of these dreams is so grainy that I never noticed that these people are Asian and that these dreams are about my time in China. That these folks show up in my "sleep dreams" leads me to regard my Chinese pre-walk-in lifetime as a backward extension of my present lifetime, rather than a proper past life.
For astral travel, what past life remembrance is, essentially, all you need is a "fix", such as a dream during sleep time and from there on I have been able to more precisely scrutinize the people in my grainy dream.
These were middle-aged, intelligent, very left-brain oriented folks, such as engineers. They are affluent and well-dressed in a 1960s western style, wearing sturdy coats suggesting a chilly climate. They are stocky rather than slender, their glasses are nerdy 1960s and the women wear (then) fashionable head scarves. All in all, I deduce/speculate these might be Mao's apparatshik, but I can't help thinking about the fabled Asian "secret organizations" that are said to be part of the Earth Alliance, see Glossary.
One really clear image that I have is of a woman, early to mid-30s, bending over to talk to me. I can clearly make out her good looking Chinese features. She talks with emphasis and concern while we stand in a park-like setting, as in the entrance to a luxury western styled dwelling. That would have to be (as I deduce) the top level of the structure built into the cliff, that was to become my safe place (but wasn't).
This page is a work in progress as new insights continue to come in. I have come to realize that my soul transfer was indeed instant, if not in time (but I'm not implying that it wasn't) then in experience. I remember realizing that I had been killed, but almost immediately realized that I was still there and elation very quickly turned into wonder and shock as to where I found myself. I was in my bed in the Netherlands, in the early morning hours, between waking and sleeping and was worried and very uncomfortable about these strange and new impressions of a cold and empty twilight world.
During or just after the transition I vividly remembered where I came from but that apparently faded. I don't recall any difficulties with (the Dutch) language except that I started to stutter around that time. This might actually have been a witch wound that I took with me from previous lifetimes, amplified by the assasination, which, in spite of my young age, was a witch hunt in the most literal sense. Also due to the walk-in process, as I've come to realize, was the gender ambivalence that I experienced, as I identified as a girl, which my mother tolerated, but not so my father and sister, so I quickly gave that up.
As a child I felt very uncomfortable in my body. I felt violated, but I'm not sure if the body felt invaded by the soul, or vice versa: that the soul felt imposed upon by the body. Maybe both, and the two remain a bit of a mismatch today. I don't really recognize myself in the mirror, it just doesn't really feel like me and only if I cross-dress I begin to see something and someone in the mirror. I'm a walking talking identity crisis, but on the whole not doing too shabby 😀.
For astral travel, what past life remembrance is, essentially, all you need is a "fix", such as a dream during sleep time and from there on I have been able to more precisely scrutinize the people in my grainy dream.
These were middle-aged, intelligent, very left-brain oriented folks, such as engineers. They are affluent and well-dressed in a 1960s western style, wearing sturdy coats suggesting a chilly climate. They are stocky rather than slender, their glasses are nerdy 1960s and the women wear (then) fashionable head scarves. All in all, I deduce/speculate these might be Mao's apparatshik, but I can't help thinking about the fabled Asian "secret organizations" that are said to be part of the Earth Alliance, see Glossary.
One really clear image that I have is of a woman, early to mid-30s, bending over to talk to me. I can clearly make out her good looking Chinese features. She talks with emphasis and concern while we stand in a park-like setting, as in the entrance to a luxury western styled dwelling. That would have to be (as I deduce) the top level of the structure built into the cliff, that was to become my safe place (but wasn't).
This page is a work in progress as new insights continue to come in. I have come to realize that my soul transfer was indeed instant, if not in time (but I'm not implying that it wasn't) then in experience. I remember realizing that I had been killed, but almost immediately realized that I was still there and elation very quickly turned into wonder and shock as to where I found myself. I was in my bed in the Netherlands, in the early morning hours, between waking and sleeping and was worried and very uncomfortable about these strange and new impressions of a cold and empty twilight world.
During or just after the transition I vividly remembered where I came from but that apparently faded. I don't recall any difficulties with (the Dutch) language except that I started to stutter around that time. This might actually have been a witch wound that I took with me from previous lifetimes, amplified by the assasination, which, in spite of my young age, was a witch hunt in the most literal sense. Also due to the walk-in process, as I've come to realize, was the gender ambivalence that I experienced, as I identified as a girl, which my mother tolerated, but not so my father and sister, so I quickly gave that up.
As a child I felt very uncomfortable in my body. I felt violated, but I'm not sure if the body felt invaded by the soul, or vice versa: that the soul felt imposed upon by the body. Maybe both, and the two remain a bit of a mismatch today. I don't really recognize myself in the mirror, it just doesn't really feel like me and only if I cross-dress I begin to see something and someone in the mirror. I'm a walking talking identity crisis, but on the whole not doing too shabby 😀.
In China, I remember a moment in which, as a very young girl, I'm dressed in traditional attire. A long dress that seemed older than ancient, with a craftsmanship unlike anything you see today. I didn't find a match online, but if anything, it's Mongolian rather than Chinese, without bright Asiatic color contrasts. The dress was dark red but very faded, quite heavy and cotton rather than silk, I'd say. It had vertical rows of stitchings, slightly ruffled perhaps, in the snug upper part. These were of incredible intracacy, with some cerulean-blue and off-white ornaments or stitchings.
It looks like someone went out of her way to dress me up, because I wore Asian clogs, a little black hat and a wooden hair pin that don't seem Mongolian. I remember the dress felt very cold to the touch. These memories, even when astral, are so lucid and visceral that they feel like a part of my present life.
During this astral travel to my past in China, I get a glimpse of myself and notice that I look just like a woman that I see both in a sleep-dream and in an astral presence. I thus deduce that's my mother and that the woman talking to me (see above) is probably my nanny.
It looks like someone went out of her way to dress me up, because I wore Asian clogs, a little black hat and a wooden hair pin that don't seem Mongolian. I remember the dress felt very cold to the touch. These memories, even when astral, are so lucid and visceral that they feel like a part of my present life.
During this astral travel to my past in China, I get a glimpse of myself and notice that I look just like a woman that I see both in a sleep-dream and in an astral presence. I thus deduce that's my mother and that the woman talking to me (see above) is probably my nanny.
I have acquired more insight into the, shocking, last moments of this life. As the man hangs from a rope and positioned on a window, he grunts heavily on each out-breath. From his voice it appears he's very young and I again emphasize that synthetic beings are soul-less and act solely according to their programming.
As I stand gazing like a deer in the headlight, my mother grabs my right arm and as she pulls me towards her, I see her distressed face, looking angrily at the synthetic creature. This attempt to get me out of harm's way being her last act of love towards me, the bomb goes of and I see a yellow jet of combusting gas.
An image that has haunted me in dreams was that of my mother's burnt face, but I didn't know what it was, until now.
However, the night after I wrote this, my mother visited me. I felt a strong presence beside me and after some confusion realized it was her (very briefly). This put everything into perpective as we could mutually tell we were well.
I now constantly feel her loving presence as we have become well and truly psychically linked, as of her astral visit a few nights ago. This is a very valuable addition to my state of being and plugs quite a few identity holes, since I now feel connected to our family's Mongolian-Chinese heritage, ancient and mysterious, and a loving family. This, by no means diminishes my Dutch family, but complements it.
This hopefully and once again underlines how insignificant the drama of the Earth-experience is, after you have been able to emotionally deal with it.
As I stand gazing like a deer in the headlight, my mother grabs my right arm and as she pulls me towards her, I see her distressed face, looking angrily at the synthetic creature. This attempt to get me out of harm's way being her last act of love towards me, the bomb goes of and I see a yellow jet of combusting gas.
An image that has haunted me in dreams was that of my mother's burnt face, but I didn't know what it was, until now.
However, the night after I wrote this, my mother visited me. I felt a strong presence beside me and after some confusion realized it was her (very briefly). This put everything into perpective as we could mutually tell we were well.
I now constantly feel her loving presence as we have become well and truly psychically linked, as of her astral visit a few nights ago. This is a very valuable addition to my state of being and plugs quite a few identity holes, since I now feel connected to our family's Mongolian-Chinese heritage, ancient and mysterious, and a loving family. This, by no means diminishes my Dutch family, but complements it.
This hopefully and once again underlines how insignificant the drama of the Earth-experience is, after you have been able to emotionally deal with it.
Why do I feel so connected to my Chinese parents' Mongolian heritage? Simply put, because my mother did so, and I am deeply connected to her and the few years we had together are hands down the best I can remember in my, still limited, perception of my soul history, in which her eyes are the single most clear memory. Since very recently she is part of my material realm (in a way I'm not going to explain), together with my motley crew of most trusted beings, my soul mate, Michael, Gaia, Yeshua and Zharion. Maybe over time my circle will evolve into a full menagerie of cosmic mothers, when I have reached that level of remembrance.
Another reason is my (and soul mate's) connection with Lyra. If the Native American culture almost seems like a carbon copy of the culture of the feline-humanoid tribes of ancient Lyra, it's because the Native Americans descend from the North-Asian nomadic tribes of Mongolia, Kazakhstan and Siberia.
Another reason is my (and soul mate's) connection with Lyra. If the Native American culture almost seems like a carbon copy of the culture of the feline-humanoid tribes of ancient Lyra, it's because the Native Americans descend from the North-Asian nomadic tribes of Mongolia, Kazakhstan and Siberia.