by Bob Frank
“Si, si. I do,” she responded, and then began to play with her headphones.
“Please follow our instructions closely during the regression. You will be fully cognizant even though you are under hypnosis. At times, we might ask you to remove yourself from your body and only watch what you see like a movie. Please try your best to do this if we ask. Okay?”
“Si”, Sogui said slowly as she looked inquisitively at the equipment on the table next to her. Then she put the goggles over her eyes and moved her head as if looking around.
With a slight look of impatience, Clay continued, “As we told you in San Blas, we are looking for very important hidden secrets. We do not know where these secrets are located or even what they are exactly. However, we have reason to believe you may know from a past-life, or perhaps your soul guide might know. We suspect these secrets are documents or papers and not gold or jewels or other valuables. If we do not locate them during the regressions, you might see their location in a dream or during meditation in the future. If you do, please, talk to only us about the secrets — no one else. We believe there are people who have been trying to destroy these writings for thousands of years. They may stop at nothing to destroy these writings.”
Sogui lifted the goggles from her eyes with an impatient scowl. “Enough foreplay, my son. Do you want me to die before I get to see any action?” She winked at him with a sneaky grin.
Clay smiled, glanced at Shali and put the goggles back on Sogui’s eyes. He nodded at Shali to start the recording.
“This is Clay Barton, it is 8:12 a.m. in Panama City, Panama, on the twenty-ninth of March. This is the first in a sequence of past-life regression sessions on Sogui Iglesias, subject RB2837-JK3152; soul ID number DF73-7221. Shali Faisal is operating the control board. The objectives of the session are hypnosis and regression to previous lives. This will later be followed by an attempted transition to the LBL. Pre-hypnotic examination reveals that Sogui should easily adapt to PLR Protocol 73, being used for this regression. The subject will remember the entire regression experience after she comes out of hypnosis. She understands the possible adverse consequences of participating in this regression.”
Clay walked Sogui carefully through the PLR 73 scripts. The regression took Sogui to the period starting four thousand years earlier. With excitement they discovered that Sogui’s soul was Abraham himself about 1700 BC. Iqbal and Tommy’s souls had lived the lives of his two sons, Isaac and Ishmael.
When they finished reviewing the life of Moses, Clay said to Shali, “We sort of anticipated it, but today we hit a good one.”
“Agreed. The description of Abraham’s life, from his own perspective, was very similar to what we learned in the two earlier regressions. With three versions from the same cluster of biblical characters, the facts seem to be pretty indefensible.”
“I’d say so. The gist of many of the stories told by the Abrahamic religions may have happened, but their historical accuracy is far off, based on what we’ve heard. The Bible, Quran, Torah and Zohar were all obviously embellished to suit each of the religion’s needs.”
Clay continued the regression of Sogui, while Shali clicked away on the laptop, searching for evidence of the next life. Sogui revealed the life of another famous person from the mid-sixteen hundreds BC. As Sogui continued describing the life, Shali politely interrupted Clay, “Hey, this Zoroaster was a damn famous Iranian prophet and poet. Try asking her about The Gathas. It’s a large, ancient collection of cryptic Sanskrit verses he wrote. It’s almost unintelligible.”
Clay nodded and turned to Sogui. “Tell me, in this life as Zoroaster, did you write a book called The Gathas?”
A slight smile of pleasure grew on Sogui’s face. “Yes. Poems.”
“What were you trying to say in The Gathas?”
“The truth of the creation, the sun, the moon and the stars. The creator, the light, the power of one, the universe. All is one.”
“Where did you get this knowledge and how did you learn this truth you wanted to bring to others?”
“The Creator.”
“Who is the Creator? What and where is the Creator?”
“We are the Creator. We are one.”
“Why did you write this truth in poems? In verses? Why not write it in prose or words that were easier for others to understand?”
“I like poems; it sounds better.”
Shali gave Clay a quizzical look and then lifted her hands, palms up, and whispered a Homer Simpson-like, “Dohhh.”
Clay smiled sheepishly then continued with Sogui. “The words in The Gathas sound confusing, like a puzzle. Did you write like this on purpose?”
There was a long pause with no response. He nodded to Shali who shot a long micro-pulse to the Third Eye pulse pad.
No response came after several more prompts and micro-pulse shots. Clay continued with the uneventful regression of the life and then moved to the peaceful death of Zoroaster at an old age.
While letting Sogui rest and reminisce about that life for a few minutes, Shali said to Clay, “Do you think The Gathas are secret encoded messages this soul pod has been writing about for millennia? Like Jabir, and Ezra Pound’s The Cantos? If it is, and assuming we find these writings, how in hell are we going to be able to decode it all?”
“It could all be related. And to be honest I’m not sure how we’ll ever decode any of it.”
Shali looked back at the laptop and said, “After Zoro, an entire ancient religion called Zoroastrianism spun off, almost like a cult. It was evidently significant because it was formative for many modern religions. It established the single-god theory and kind of broke people out of worshiping bunches of gods, like the Greeks and Persians who worshiped several gods like Zeus, Athena, Apollo, Neptune and such. Zoro, here, led the change to just one god. But even though it had more initial influence than any other religion, it was nearly wiped out by a big Islamic expansion in Iran. If you don’t agree with it, crush it, huh?”
Clay nodded and then moved on to the next life. Another home-run incarnation came with the life of Moses himself around 1300 BC.
Sogui’s soul described the details of her life as Moses while Clay whispered to Shali, “Iqbal’s soul lived as Aaron, Moses brother; Tommy’s soul was Miriam, Moses’ sister. More proof that this soul pod reincarnated together.”
Shali replied, “Exactly. Sogui reiterated what Tommy’s and Iqbal’s souls said about Moses and Aaron not parting the Red Sea or turning the ocean to blood. They did not start famines or cause disasters. Moses just took advantage of the opportunity to claim credit for anomalous natural events. The historical rumor mill put the magic into their powers.”
Clay turned to Sogui. “Why did you deceive the Pharaoh with these natural events?”
Sogui laughed out loud. “That Pharaoh was so gullible, so naive.”
Clay probed further, “As Moses, did you have any prophetic, magical or super powers?”
The soul’s reply was rapid, blunt and almost sarcastic: “Are you kidding me?”
Clay and Shali looked at each other and quietly laughed. Shali whispered, “She is using the same direct, spontaneous language as Tommy’s soul. His soul must be rubbing off on her.”
“Very likely,” Clay whispered back. “Think about it: if people hang around together, they often pick up similar mannerisms. It’s probably the same with soul mates.”
* * * ~~~ * * *
They proceeded to review Sogui’s next past life as the Queen of Sheba. It was not surprising that Sogui’s soul had incarnated as the Queen of Sheba to be with a soul pod mate in King Solomon. Sogui’s detailed description of her passionate sexual liaison with Solomon was not surprising to Clay or Shali, considering her current life’s experience. Before starting the regression, Sogui had joked she wanted to see hot love affairs of her past lives. Now she would vividly remember every passionate love-making session she had with Solomon, and others. Yet her strong feelings for Solomon persisted through that life.
When Sogui died in that life as the queen, she said she saw Solomon’s eyes in the look of their son as he sat beside her on her death bed.
As they finished the life of the Queen of Sheba, Shali smiled sheepishly at Clay with teary eyes. “What a love story, huh? This would make a good chick-flick. Her past lives are even better than Iqbal’s and Tommy’s. We’ll be disappointed when we end up regressing normal lives again.”
“But look at all three of their lives as they live today. They are all plain, ordinary people with no connection between them. Let’s keep going and see what’s next.”
Chapter 12
Clay stretched his arms and rolled his head to stretch his neck. “Move to the door that takes you to the next life of a historically known person. What do you see? Where are you? Are you there, now?”
“Yes. My name is Kong Fudza. I am known as Master Kong. I am a writer, a teacher. No, a philosopher. Yes, a teacher and a philosopher, but only for the last years. I have done so many different things in my life. But now I just teach others.”
“What year is it?” Clay asked. “How old are you and where are you?”
“It is 460. No, 480 — 486 BC. I am sixty-five years old. I live in a town in a province in the East. Lu, Lu Qu Fu, east of the mountain. Tai Hang Mountain. It is cold now, very cold; but it is beautiful and I am peaceful. It has not been so peaceful in the past.”
“Tell me about your past. Return to your younger days.”
There was a hesitation, and Shali gave her a shot of micro-pulse to the Third Eye.
“No, my childhood was difficult. My mother was a young girl when I was born and my father was an old man, and they never married. I did not know my father because he died when I was a baby. My mother raised me by herself because she was outcast by the village. We had very little money and life was difficult, but she was a good mother. She died young, though.
“Later in this life, I saw my mother in my son’s eyes — and my son gave me a grandson. I am very close to my grandson; we are together all the time. I teach my grandson with my other students. After I am gone, he must continue to teach others what is right and wrong.”
Sogui paused and smiled with deep satisfaction. “I once tended cows in the fields, but I did not like that. Then I worked in an office for the local justice. I later became a judge or a magistrate, myself. There was much corruption. I did not like that, either. It was so wrong, so unfair; I could not be a part of that corruption.” Sogui continued to expound on this life as Master Kong.
Clay looked over to Shali and quietly commented, “This guy sure is a Chatty-Kathy, huh?”
“Yes, but who the hell is he? Kong Fudza. I’m not finding anything in the files or on the ‘net. I need more data points.”
“Data points? You techno-weenie.” said Clay teasingly.
Shali flushed red and nodded her head toward Sogui, signaling for Clay to keep moving.
Sogui continued describing this life: “My wife was nice when we were young. I loved her very much, but she became a bitch. She nagged me all the time, so I stayed away to do my work. What is her problem, anyway? I love her, but I don’t want to be around her; she is just plain nasty. I focus on my studies. I read, study, think and talk to others. I enjoy discussing social and behavioral issues with my students. But sometimes I feel like I am lost, as if I am not in my own body. Sometimes I have difficulty concentrating or focusing, but only sometimes. Other times I feel euphoric, like I am one with the universe and can see to infinity. Most of my life I feel this, but it has increased in my later years in this body.”
There was a pause. Clay allowed Sogui time to absorb what her soul saw. He turned to Shali, who was feverishly searching the Internet in an attempt to identify this person.
“Shali, this regression sounds more like what we are used to seeing: a regular person with all of the difficult and confusing problems of life. Sogui’s blunt commentary makes this a little entertaining — not as good as Tommy, but interesting nonetheless.”
Shali did not even look up. “Yeah, I hear you.”
“Find anything at all?”
“Nothing. This Kong guy is obviously Chinese, and that makes it difficult to find connections, even if he was famous. Romanizing Chinese characters often butchers words in translation. Plus Chinese sometimes reverse their names, cut the names short or use nicknames. The pronunciation of a single spoken Chinese character could have a dozen different possible written characters or meanings. To complicate it further, geographic names in China have changed a lot in the last several thousand years.”
“Don’t worry, Shali. We’ll get another shot during the LBL. We can always dig in tonight and see if we can find something. We’ll have to wrap up soon anyway. We have to keep our days shorter with Sogui since this has got to be hard on her.”
Shali looked up. “You’re right. She is remembering everything too, so should we ease off and let her sleep on it?”
“Yeah. Her body is not in the greatest shape. I’ll do one more life after Kong and then quit for today. We’ll take tomorrow off, head to the mountains and let her rest for a day.”
Clay finished reviewing the life of the unknown Chinese guy from east of the mountains. This life ended in a mournful death that followed soon after the death of his son.
Clay looked over to Shali. She nodded for him to proceed. “Continue down the hall to the door of the next life of a historically prominent person. Enter the door. What do you see? Where are you?”
No response.
“Are you there?”
Shali pressed the button for a micro-pulse shock to the balls of Sogui’s feet. Her feet curled up slightly.
“Are you at the door?”
No response.
Shali pressed a shock on the shoulder pads.
Sogui snapped, “No. No. There are two doors. I’ve gone in one but I’ve already been in that door.”
“Go to the other door. Open it and go inside. Tell me what you see.”
“It is a beautiful house. A big house. Even more. This is a palace. It is huge and beautiful.”
“Walk through this palace and tell me what you see. Look at yourself and describe yourself.”
“I am a young man. I am a prince, and this all belongs to me. But I am empty, lost. I do not know why I am so confused, so helpless. My wife is in the other side of the palace. She gave me a wonderful son, but I feel affection only on the outside. Inside, there is nothing; I need more.”
“Where are you located now?”
“In Nepal, in the West of Nepal. Capi — lava — du. Capila — vasdu.
Capilavasdu. It sounds something like that.”
Clay leaned over to Shali. “See if you find that on GoogleEarth. Look around Nepal, India and Tibet; the borders have shifted over time. The Indians didn’t mess around with their geographical names as much as the Chinese, so it might be easier to find.” He turned back Sogui. “What is your name?”
“Sidada — Gadada — Sigada — Gadama. Something like that.”
Clay glanced at Shali, but she was furiously clicking away on the laptop, running multiple Internet search engines to figure out who this was and where they had been living.
Clay continued the script while Shali searched and occasionally pressed a micro-pulse shock button on Clay’s cue.
“What year is it now and how old are you?”
“It is 500 — 550 — 540. Yes, 545 BC. I am a young adult. I think I am nineteen years old.”
Shali clicked away on the keyboard and then stopped. Her eyebrows curled inward, her lips narrowed firmly in excitement. She suddenly swung her chair away from the laptop and grabbed the binder with the timeline of the last four thousand years of historically famous people. She furiously flipped through the pages.
“Holy crap, Clay. I think this is the Buddha. Yeah, I’m telling you, I think this is Siddhartha Gautama. His father was the king of a small kingdom around Kapialvastu in Nepal before he ran off to India and freaked out on meditation. Co
uld Sogui really be the Buddha?”
A huge smile broke out on Clay’s face. “Oh boy. I’ve got a rough idea of Buddha’s story, so I’ll play it along. We just might have the pot-belly, himself.”
Clay continued the regression for fifteen minutes and took the soul through his many years spent fasting, abstaining and meditating. “Move forward in this life to a time of great peacefulness for your soul. Move to a time when you are always in meditation, deep in thought, deep in peace. Where are you? What year is it? Describe everything around you and what you are doing.”
“I am in the south now. India. Platna. No, Gaya. The land is flat, dry, boring. Boring is good for me now, because it is difficult to meditate in a place of wonderful beauty like my father’s land. I am fifty-eight years old. Sometimes it is so hot I go into the river to cool down. The rivers are wide and shallow, so I lie in the river. The water is cool from the mountains. I like to lie under the trees to rest and meditate. Many people follow me around wherever I go. They think I have great wisdom and hidden secrets for peacefulness.”
“Do you have wisdom or secret knowledge? If you have this wisdom, where did you get it and what did you do with it?”
There was a long pause. Shali shot Sogui with a three second micro-pulse to the Third Eye. Sogui’s head turned upward slightly from the stimulus.
“Yes. I was given this knowledge by the elders in my meditation. I am told not to reveal much of the knowledge. The people are not ready. There are lessons to be learned, and they cannot learn their lessons if this knowledge is revealed to the world. They will not know what to do with the knowledge. It will be abused and lessons will not be learned under the best circumstances.”
Clay asked, “So what did you do with this knowledge?”
“I write. It is written. For years, I have had two scribes working with me to write it. But what is written cannot be understood by most. The real truth is hidden in the words.”