Remnants of my Previous Incarnation Exist…

As I find myself grabbing my imaginary crotch here and there from time to time (I’m female, btw).

Yes, you heard that right. I pretend as though I still have a dick, even though I don’t, in this lifetime.

I went to see a psychic a few years ago to help me resolve a few issues that had been lingering on at that moment in time for me. One, I had horrible left shoulder pain that I just wanted to get rid of. Two, my best friend had just garnered her wings after her ex had passed away. Her ex Justin had become the wings on her back. I wanted some psychic counseling with all these massive events that were being thrown my way.

I had seen a psychic somewhere in downtown Toronto. I wanted to know where I should take things from here in terms of my life. I also wanted to know why I’ve held onto this longstanding anxiety that had stuck with me throughout my entire life. I wasn’t sure where it came from necessarily. All I knew was that I was way more anxious than your average joe. I held onto symptoms of fight or flight a lot and applied that to everyday situations. It didn’t necessarily make sense. This was until I visited a psychic. He meditated for 2 hours to contact Archangel Michael. This spirit mentioned that I was a soldier named Luka in my most recent past life. I had to fight as a Taiwanese soldier during the 18th century in Han China.

The psychic mentioned to me, “Please wait 2 to 3 weeks for Archangel Michael to help fix that shoulder pain of yours.” Adding on, he said, “Also, Archangel Michael told me that you were a Taiwanese soldier in 18th century China who fought in the war. I sense a lot of rough energies and aggressive energies that still remain. You have to work to learn to channel more ease into your everyday life.”

So I was a male soldier? Okay. In this lifetime, I was raised into a quiet, Chinese immigrant family. I can’t say that any of my immediate family members were outrageous and had that threatening surge to them. Yet, I tried to maintain my past life energy in me. I remember the slightest instances triggering some part of me that I tried to maintain and suppress.

“Why are you telling me to take off my shoes?!” I would shout in the loudest voice to my grandmother or mother as a young child when I came home. I would relate my parental figures to authority figures at boot camp instantaneously I remember one time at home in my late teens my sister made her typical snide remarks to my mother one day. My mother broke down into tears. That Luka part of me came out where I felt the need to defend for something, and show my proud ways to state morality and ethics. I stomped down the stairs to make my presence and state my point.

Standing in front of them with my chest high up and ready to serve as a soldier of some sort, I went on to make my statement. “How DARE YOU speak to our very own mother like this?!” I berated my sister. “You will have to pay for this I’m sure! In a manner that will be unheard of! Nobody deserves this kind of ethical treatment!” My commanding tone and overbearing presence scared my younger sister, to the point where she ran away from the house for a day or two. She was afraid I would have pulled out a rifle on her, or beat her to death if anything. I think she went to an emergency foster care area close by.

Luka comes out especially in work situations. I remember having the highest fear of working in general. Nothing gave me more anxiety than being in work situations. Female authority figures scared me to death. Imagine being a soldier in a past life, whereby you go through boot camp and have a trainer who would come out in front of you to shout in your face to properly do your job or else. “Are you doing enough push ups?!” “This is not enough!!” is the typical way a trainer has to primp up a soldier in its preparation for battle where bombs would go off. I related the past trauma of that to everyday work situations. I related my experiences as a cashier at the local dollar store to this.

I remember a scene one morning as I had just signed into my work shift at Dollar Tree. My female authority figures were ready to harp about something, much in the same usual way they would pester and harass any other employee. Yet, they picked on me the most only because I left a bad first impression during my first shift at work. I remember leaving items on the back of the shelf still yet to be front faced. That first shift, I was so nervous that I forgot to close and lock certain drawers. This view of me as someone who did not know how to do her job efficiently and quickly clung on, even though I had shown my improvement over several shifts and beyond.

The 2 assistant managers holed me into a corner at the back of the store to give me a rant about taking out the garbage that was scheduled yesterday. I was hustled into a dark corner that morning in the back room. Both of them huddled together to yell at me and bully me about proper work practices and work ethics.

“The garbage MUST be taken out every Thursday morning!” one assistant manager shouted. In my subconscious mind, I was relaying this instance to one of my instances as Luka in the army. I was being berated by a commander or superior, yet this time, he or she was dressed in a green corporate tee shirt. My fight or flight part of my brain was triggered again, and I relayed this instance of retail corporate politics with employees as though some superior was commanding more out of me than could be humanly possible. Taking out the garbage was the same as putting my life on the line in order to serve my higher ups.

“I’m going to kill myself!” I shouted in the loudest, most forceful tone. I gathered up the same energy as Luka would, and using my integrity, I was ready to walk out the door.

“If you walk out the door, you’re fired!” The assistant manager threatened. At this moment, I felt like I couldn’t escape now, and being in that fight or flight mode, I was now wired to fight after having been caged in the small back room. I looked around the dark, small storage room. My head quickly turned to see who was within my gaze.

My assistant manager Jen was sitting right across from me on the chair, of course. The spotlight was placed on her now. Without thinking, I took out my arm and used my hand to swipe at her right cheek. She flinched. I was this close to slapping her. I am sure my Luka side was coming out right there and then.

From that moment onwards, that scene triggered remorse for my actions. I deeply felt remorse for my actions. You don’t have time to think much during life and death situations, and being scolded for not taking out the garbage the previous day was somehow one of those life and death situations for my subconscious. I drummed up all of the ways I would apologize to Jen if we were to bump into each other again for a shift (not too far away).

I had heard rumors from the rest of my coworkers that Jen had called the Ministry of Labor on me. “She’s waiting for their reply,” my coworker Sarah mentioned.

A week had passed almost, and I finally came into contact with Jen again. I saw her cleaning up the supplies in the store. She was staying a bit late. I had just arrived for my shift. This contact forced me to begin with my apologies. “Listen, I’m sorry for what I did, I truly am…” I came out with in a sorrow manner. I had the most regretful face on me.

She quickly turned her head to face me with the most fierce, scorned face that was likened to the way a typical Luka would have presented with. Then she shot her hand right up in front of my face indicating she didn’t want to be anywhere near me at all. In her defensive manner, she shouted in the most rapturous tone, “BACK OFF!” Suddenly, my Luka sense of integrity only got the better of me. My thoughts were, “Was this going to be resolved? Was this a lost cause? If so, then I’m OUT.” I turned my back and stomped my feet away, only to head towards the exit door of the store. This was done in much the same way Luka would have walked out from a ruthless scene that couldn’t be solved.

I walked home that day riled with the biggest amount of anger and resentment. I quickly raced home much in the same way Luka would seek his shelter or safe haven. The apartment was just two blocks from the Dollar Tree. I turned my key inside the keyhole of my apartment door, and forced my body onto my bed. What a day.

That is just one example of how remnants of our past life traumas dictate us in very subconscious ways. To this day, I have a fear of going back inside the Dollar Tree in fear of bumping into my assistant managers again, Jen and Anna. This was just one ‘Luka’ moment amongst many others that have popped up here and there in everyday life for me.

Other examples that play out in everyday life surface as well. I have a subconscious fear of fire scenarios whenever I’m presented with instances that remind me of this. “I am afraid my skin will catch on fire if I were to use a lighter to attempt to sage my apartment with herbs.” I have this strong fear of being late and not meeting strict appointment times. “I’m afraid of setting my alarm clock for a simple zoom training session with Simply Green Home Services, the sales company I was just hired from, to do in-home telephone sales.” I am always afraid to pull my covid mask down in fear that a superior or someone will come attack me for not wearing my gear properly. “If I pull my mask down to give myself a proper breath while walking done the aisle of Walmart, an employee dressed in a blue shirt will sternly point their finger at me and shout, ‘wear your mask properly, or ELSE!'”

My past life plays out in this lifetime in little ways that adds up. I can’t necessarily ignore this other side of me, although I am a different character in this lifetime compared to what I was in a previous lifetime. In this lifetime, I happen to be an introverted female. I am someone who tries to ignore any negativities around me because I can be overstimulated as well. I can shut up for the longest time and not spend any time around people and be fine. Yet, those Luka soldier triggers do occur from time to time. I guess the best way to work with this different character energy is to maintain it as best as I can. Yet, as I had mentioned before, when I am lying in bed, my fingers will somehow magically rub that private part of myself in that crotch area that just doesn’t exist in the here and now.