One night I went to bed and had a dream, the dream was that I was in a realm where all around me I saw white. Nothing but white, but of white what I cannot say. Although others was there with me I saw no one, no physical bodies, but I was aware of plenty beings there with me. Someone who I perceived as Chinese spoke to me and told me to go and get a laughing Buddha and I should light a specific candle to it. I asked what was a laughing Buddha and they showed me the statue of a laughing Buddha with his hand up in the air with palms tuned up, a chubby pleasant looking man.
I woke up the morning and called a friend of mine and asked her to follow me to China Town to look for this Buddha. I went into several stores looking for the Buddha I saw in the realm where I received this message, I remembered clearly the instructions of how it should look and how I should take care of it, the Chinese man had told me that it was for my prosperity, I needed it at the time especially, I was going through a rough patch. I went from shop to shop but none of the Buddha that I saw spoke to me. I eventually went into a shop where I saw an older Chinese woman, the usual behavior in trying to move her product met me at the door, speaking very fast in her limited English, which was an act at first. I called her one side, too embarrass to tell her my dream in full ear shot of others. Her English, although heavily accented was better than I thought or what she pretended it to be and I proceeded to tell her what I was looking for and what the Chinese man in “heaven”, I called it that, thinking she would understand that word better pass “realm”, told me and of the instructions he gave. She stepped back and looked at me wide eye, and said incredulously “Buddha came to you!”
She looked around as if she was about to let loose some state secret, and told me that in China they normally give the Buddha red light, but as I was told something else then I should do that, I should listen to the instructions. She said she could not believe that Buddha came to me, and she looked me over as if she wanted Sue Ming to step out of my body instead of this Black girl she saw standing before her.
I got the Buddha and she instructed me on where to go and get it prayed over by the monks at the Temple. I went made a donation and left it there for some days to return for it. She said when I leave it, there were things these monks would do to bring it alive, she explained to me that she would normally sell these things but not explain any of what she did to me to her customers, I guessed my vision convinced her that with me there was something special going on. And indeed it was – oh, if I could tell you all how my life changed after that!
I have had many dreams of Chinese people coming to me and speaking to me. Once when I was in California, I saw myself in a very tiny shop, which was packed with Chinese artifacts. I saw two very pretty Chinese young ladies and I knew instantly that they were my family. One was smiling at me and the other was hurrying me up, telling me that “Mommy” was waiting for me; they both spoke Cantonese of course, telepathically and I understood them. She was upset with me that I took long to come, they ushered me into another small room, where I saw a very beautiful and richly dressed older woman with a stern face. I ran to her, but her stance was solid and as I embraced she did not return it. I was unperturbed by this because I knew her anger would soon come down, and she softened somewhat enough to tell me to get Quan Yin (the Chinese Osun). Again like the girls she spoke to me through her mind. Quan Yin was in the shop and she told me to take it and go, she warned me not to stay away so long again. I saw them again about ten other times in my visions and dreams and I have since realized that they were my family in one of my incarnations.
The first language I spoke when I first became possessed was Chinese. Often times when I hear Mandarin and Cantonese spoken I know what is being said, this is not often but it has happened enough and I still speak Chinese when I am possessed lol, it is something to see and hear. People who knows me and can “see,” will ask me if there is Chinese in my family, to which I would secretly smile. In my house I have a Chinese shrine with all the major deities. I am drawn to China and Mr. Chin or his wife cannot cook Chinese food like me. I believe that my last incarnation may have been there. I have more to discuss on this subject, more personal stories, but it will be another time for now Read this
Obara Meji Chinn!
Yesterday somebody sent this to me and told me to share if I wanted to, I thought it quite interesting, so I will. The person directed me to a link on his facebook page and so I have copied the story and pasted it. Enjoy!
Tophers’ Two Cents – Reincarnation
I would like to share a story with all of you. I know it’s not your average socially acceptable story, but it’s a true story nonetheless. I’ve talked to a few people about posting this and I’ve heard mixed opinions. I’ve heard “People will judge you.” and “People will think you’re crazy.” Yeah…maybe…but that doesn’t bother me. After the events you’ll read about you’ll understand why nothing really gets to me anymore. This whole thing is about reincarnation, as you see in the title. If this is something you don’t want to read about then it’s ok to stop reading here. I used to scoff when people talked about it. I used to think it’s a ridiculous notion. So I understand.
A few people know about my strange experiences in Maine. If you don’t I’ll give a little back story.
When I was a kid I remember drawing lighthouses. It wasn’t an obsession, but I remember really enjoying them. I remember drawing 2 of them as a kid. One was short and had a flat top and one a little taller and had regular type roof. As most of you know, Meredith partly grew up in Maine. Her mother knew I liked lighthouses and sent me a picture of the Portland Head Light in Cape Elizabeth, ME. It was the same lighthouse as the second one I drew. I thought it had to be coincidence. Maybe I inadvertently saw it growing up. But it was a little scary nonetheless.
Shortly after, Meredith and I were talking about our upcoming trip to Maine and I was talking about what I thought the air would feel like, how it looked and just felt in general. She asked me “Are you sure you’ve never been there?” I hadn’t at this point, but I was spot on. It was all coincidences and good guesses, as far as I was concerned.
So we fly out there. I was excited to go to a new, foreign place and I’ve always wanted to see and touch an actual lighthouse. When I get off the plane I expected the excitement to continue. Instead, what I mainly felt was a sort of calm. I felt I was “home”. I felt that I belonged there. Sure, I was still a little excited. But it became like a secondary emotion. After meeting Meredith’s parents we immediately go to the Portland Head Light. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. The closer I got to it; the more my emotions became a weird mix of calm, fear, and nerves. I walked up to it, touched the lighthouse and pictured myself standing in front of that other light house I drew (the one with more of a flat top). It made absolutely no sense and typically I would brush something like that aside. But when the picture flashed in my head I felt a lot of peace. I felt different. Maybe pride? Happiness? I don’t know. Once reality set in the whole situation freaked me out because even though it was a little picture in my head, it was real to me.
Now this is the first time I met Mere’s Parents so, obviously, I had to internalize everything that was happening. I didn’t want them thinking I was some kind of crackpot. I definitely felt like it. I kept telling myself it’s all in my head. As we drove from Portland to Brunswick, all the old buildings and the geography felt familiar. Even though I kept all these thoughts to myself, I couldn’t keep in was how comfortable I was there. It was apparently noticeable because, after a few days of being there, I was told maybe I was a lighthouse keeper in a previous life. I laughed it off. I didn’t believe in “past lives”. To me reincarnation was an interesting and fun metaphysical topic, but nothing more.
I wanted to shrug it off (The image) but the next morning we noticed something on the front page of the Portland Press Herald. There were sailboat races happening while we were picnicking at the Portland Head Light and there was a plane flying around taking photos. There, on the front page, was a large aerial photo. We were looking to see if we could find us at our table. Zooming in on the photo we see the moment I touched the lighthouse, confirmed with the photo Mere got of that exact moment, which is also the exact moment I had that little image in my head. You can see a picture of the comparison on my Facebook (in my mobile photos). I also uploaded it to this note if you don’t want to search. Even though it was really cool I knew it had to be a coincidence…one hell of a coincidence but a coincidence nonetheless. But now after everything I don’t think it was. Now after everything that’s happened I think it’s almost as if the universe was trying to get me to find answers. Like “Hey, you can’t ignore me now”. Though there were plenty of little situations, the Portland Head Light situation was the biggest thing that happened there.
Then it was time to leave. It hurt. I felt like I was coming back to a place I didn’t belong. I still don’t feel I belong here. When it was all said and done, enough experiences made me want to find answers. I started questioning everything I learned in my life. I questioned everything I conditioned myself to “believe”. I wanted to know why I had these experiences. So I searched right when I got back
I kept coming up empty until I found that 1st flat top lighthouse I used to draw. That flat top lighthouse is also the Portland Head Light. It was remodeled and raised during the Civil War, which gave it its current look. This, of course, made me want more answers. But after that I kept coming up with nothing.
Then I was given a session with a hypnotherapist. Maybe I could find answers. I was hoping to but I could never have expected what happened. This is something I recommend everyone do whether or not you believe in reincarnation.
The hypnotherapist did his thing and put me under. Once we were ready he asked me a series of questions. It was a 1 hour 45 min session that felt like 15 minutes to me.
Here are the key points of this session:
Therapist – Where are you
Me- A field
Therapist – Where’s the field?
Me – Massachusetts.
Therapist – What’s your name?
Me – James.
Therapist – What are you wearing?
Me – Something blue. (I realized I was a soldier) I’m a Captain.
Therapist – What year is it?
Therapist – What’s happening?
Me – I just won land.
Therapist – What for?
Me – For the battles
Therapist – What battles?
Me – I don’t remember their names. But I think all of them.
Therapist – How do you feel?
Me – It’s bittersweet
Therapist – Why?
This is where I start uncontrollably sobbing
Me – I lost my brother.
Therapist – What his name
Me – I don’t remember
Therapist – Who is with you?
Me – My wife
Therapist – What’s her name?
Me – Esther
He then told me to go to James deathbed.
Therapist – How old are you?
Me – 72
Therapist – What year is it?
Me – 1817
Therapist – What are you dying of.
Me – I don’t know. I can’t move.
Therapist – Who’s with you?
Me – My family
Therapist – What have you learned from this life
Me – Family is important.
Therapist – How did you feel about this life?
I start sobbing again
Me – I killed so many people…..for land. It’s not worth it.
Therapist – Who did you kill?
Me – The “Reds”. They were innocent. I killed them.
The therapist then asked me to go forward to the next important part of this journey.
Therapist – Where are you?
I started talking funny, at least funny to me. I wasn’t talking like “me”.
Me – An alley. It’s cold.
Therapist – Who’s with you?
Me – A bunch of people. I don’t know them
Therapist – Where is this alley?
Me – Chicago
Therapist – How are you feeling?
Me – I’m excited
Therapist – Why are you excited?
Me – Martin Luther King is gonna be on the TV
Therapist – That makes you happy?
Me – He’s gonna save us. I shouldn’t talk about this. My wife says to keep my
mouth shut. She says I talk too much. People like us need to stay quiet.
Therapist – Why?
Me – It’s dangerous for us. (I remember getting really angry here) Black folk need
to know our place
Earlier I said I thought I was talking funny. You probably gathered I was talking like a “ghetto”1960’s black guy. The therapist asked me a few other things that I don’t recall and then he had me go to the end of that “life”. I started shaking. I remember feeling scared and I felt something hard and cold at the base of my skull. I remember the therapist helping me disassociate from the emotions. He told me to look at it as an outsider. I remember being able to kind of do that. But I was still crying pretty hard.
Therapist – What’s going on?
Me – They killed her
I remember feeling the emotions again and remember either thinking or saying Oh god please.
Therapist – They killed who?
Me – My wife. I think I’m next
Therapist – Why are they there?
Me – I think they’re robbing me. I don’t know. I have nothing
Therapist – What are they saying?
Me – Niggers don’t deserve life.
Therapist – Do you know them?
Me – No. Just another “Whitey”
He has me go passed this life to the next important part. I did, but not before I heard the bang and the back of my head felt a mix of hot and cold. This is probably the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t remember this session like a bad dream. They feel like memories now, I felt I was there. And never in my life had I been this terrified. After the bang I started feeling calm. I felt love. I felt peace.
Therapist – Where are you?
Me – I don’t know
Therapist – What does it look like?
Me – I don’t know. It’s nothing.
Therapist – What do you see?
Me – Nothing. It’s white. But not white. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It’s nothing
Therapist – Who is with you?
Me – (Really happy at this point) It’s Sammy!
Therapist – Who’s Sammy?
Me – He’s my friend
Therapist – What does he look like?
Me – (I thought this was a stupid question) He looks like Sammy. He just is.
Therapist – He doesn’t have a face?
Me – (Once again I thought this was a stupid question) No. No one does.
Therapist – Is anyone else there?
Me – Yes
Therapist – Who else is there?
Me – 6 others.
Therapist – Who are they?
Me – Elders. They help.
Then I remember trying to explain what I saw again. No words do it justice. It was literally like everything and nothing all at once. No color yet every color.
Therapist – Is Sammy telling you anything?
Me – He asked if I learned my lesson and if I could finally forgive myself
Therapist – What lesson?
Me – I killed so many innocent people. I needed to be the innocent one being killed.
Therapist – How many times did you become the innocent man?
Me – A few
Therapist – So did you learn?
Me – I don’t know. Sammy and the others are telling me I have to go back now. I don’t want to.
Therapist – Why not?
Me – I’m scared. Sammy told me that this will be different. I will probably struggle.
Therapist – With what?
Me – I don’t know
Therapist – What else is he telling you?
Me – When I do he will be there to help me be the best soul I can be. I don’t want to
The therapist has me continue. It’s cold. I’m scared. I see my aunt Gloria (which is weird) then I see a middle aged man. Then I find myself in the “area” the Therapist put me in before the regression began. At this point I was being pulled out of the hypnosis.
Whether this was all “in my head” or not it’s still an incredible story. A man punishing himself over and over again due to his guilt. I came out of this session a different person. I felt “I” could “forgive myself”. A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders and my overall demeanor changed. But that evening I left being fairly confused. I almost expected the regression to put me in Maine. I expected to be a lighthouse keeper or someone who had something to do with it. I’ve never liked the name “James”. Why would I call myself that? Though I felt happier, it opened my world to a whole lot more questions
Now this last part is why *I don’t feel it’s in my head. I searched for “Captain James” and I found quite a few, but none matched. Then I finally stumbled upon Captain James Buxton.
Around 1780 Captain James Buxton was awarded 300 acres of land in Massachusetts for his service in the war. His wife’s name was Esther Southwick. He was a musician. He either played the drums or flute. I’m not sure which but a fife and drum corp is named after him. Interesting side note is before I played trumpet in 3rd grade I wanted to play drums in the school band. All of the spots were taken. Then I wanted to play the flute but the teacher said I had the wrong fingers. That may be coincidence, but if it is it’s a pretty big one. James died in 1817 at the age of 72. His reported cause of death was paralysis. If you read this far it all sounds familiar. Almost everything with the regression matches James’ life.
At first I was confused about what I meant by “The Reds” that James killed. In searching for James I realized that the British wore red uniforms, hence “the reds”.
So where does the image of the original Portland Head Light come into play?
I also learned that at that time Maine was still part of the Colony of Massachusetts. George Washington engaged two men to build the Portland Head Light in 1787. As you read before, this is the same timeframe as James Buxton and Buxton served under George Washington. It is feasible Buxton was there for the construction, or completion. This isn’t a for sure thing, but looking at everything else it would make sense.
Unfortunately I found nothing on the guy in the 60’s. But I remember him being a nobody and if someone black got murdered in the 60’s it wasn’t necessarily newsworthy. But the important thing about that part of the regression is my birthmark. After the regression I also looked up a lot of stuff on reincarnation in general. Dr. Ian Stevenson worked for decades with children who claimed to remember past lives. One of the things he noticed with almost all of the children with birthmarks or birth defects were they were in correlation with the “past life” memory. For example, there is a child who remembers being stabbed in the chest. Per the medical records of the man the child claimed to have been, not only did the birthmark match the location of the stab wound but the shape of the wound and the birthmark matched perfectly. This is only one case. There have been hundreds that match the same way. I don’t know if some of you have seen my birthmark. It a large red birthmark that looks just like someone put a gun to the back of my head.
Another interesting fact is seeing my Aunt Gloria who is pretty much not in the family now. My Mother confirmed that she was there in the room when I was born.
The last part is about the strange everything/nothing place. While looking into it I stumbled upon something that’s called “LBL Regression”. It stands for Life Between Lives”. There are quite a few people who have had them. The atmosphere and the surroundings vary depending on the person. But there are always more than one “being” present and they are always called “Elders” and in every LBL regression somebody has a guide which is a more advanced “soul”. They usually remember being asked “What did you learn?” or something similar. These are people from all over the world. People who have never met one another. People who really can’t share stories. Yet they all have similar accounts, just like mine.
What’s the importance of Sammy? I remember recognizing the “being” as my friend Sam. I spent 30 years not knowing who I was. I didn’t know how I was supposed to be. I made a lot of mistakes and I started hating everyone else because of it. I didn’t like my life and I hit my breaking point. Insert Sam.
I won’t go into certain personal details of my life but yes. At 30 years old, insert Sam, who saved my life and to this day challenges me to better myself.
Theoretical physics speaks of the possibilities of reincarnation. Every religion, including 1st century Christianity speaks of it. The Ancient Greeks spoke of it. It was a unanimous belief prior to 500 AD. I think the religious and spiritual unanimity along with theoretical physics gives it at least a shred of weight. After my experiences and discoveries I genuinely belief it exists. And this, for me, eliminates fear. It eliminates worry. It eliminates stress. There are far more important things than what we, as a society, worry about.
So why am I telling everybody about this experience? I want to encourage those who have similar situations to dig, and dig deep. I feel that there are always answers. We just might not always know where to look. I want to encourage people who may be scared to open up about it because of some social stigma. It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks about you but you. If you have ever had any kind of gut feeling like this, or if you’ve had any crazy experiences like I did, have a regression done. You may be surprised at what you find.
Now after nearly 8 pages of typing in Microsoft Word I’ll let you all go. Thanks for reading, and take care.
A kì í mọ̀ọ́ rìn mọ̀ọ́ yan kí orí má mì l’ọ́rùn. /
One can’t be so adept at walking and marching that the head won’t shake on the neck….Yoruba Proverb!
[No one is perfect]
All religions are valid as long as it teaches peace and love…..Obara Meji!
There are no disappointments in life, only lessons learned…..Obara Meji!