The push of a past life (1)

That cute 3-year old boy playing his violin on stage with Andre Rieu and his orchestra touched me. I was not the only one wiping away tears of joy – and amazement; while I watched the performance on my computer.

For those of us not conditioned by religion to deny the reality of the reincarnation process (for which there is much reliable evidence), this child demonstrated the push of a past life. I do not know whether his parents are musicians. He was most likely born into a family of musicians, as there is a logic (usually concealed) in significant events of human lives.

My intuition is that his past life memory would have led him to want to play the violin. This thought is buttressed by what we have seen on the Internet: lots of young children playing musical instruments at a high level of competence (normally beyond the competence of their age-cohorts and most adults).



Reality may be non-material

I prefer the material realm of the universe we occupy to be a projection of an ethereal realm. The latter realm is effectively unknown. It is also an inexplicable dimension of existence. Yet, reality also seems to me to be more ethereal than material. Why do I say that?

Because almost everything in the material realm is subject to change. Newton’s Second Law of Thermodynamics, of entropy, goes even further. Nothing of substance seems to be durable. While the material realm also cannot explain the ethereal realm, the latter may contain the templates (see Plato’s ‘real’) for transient materiality.

When Heraclitus (a Greek philosopher of yore) quoted a typically unrecognised Hindu thinker of centuries before him, saying “All is fire,” he was referring to the firmament which surrounds us. All my life, I have been enchanted by the apparently infinite number of balls of fire which we see as stars.

Recently, my mind’s-eye developed this scenario. The invisible ‘smoke’ from these fires could represent an integrated ‘mesh,’ the ephemeral realm of the Universe; and the ‘ashes’ and other disgorgements from each sun which fall upon their respective planets (such as Earth) could represent the material from which life forms eventually oozed or erupted. Does this vision make possible sense?

Then, there is the material realm of which we are part; that is, we are substantially matter. We are part of the 4% of the totality of matter estimated to exist in the Universe to be visible.

What of invisible matter? Two-thirds is said to be dark matter; one third is apparently dark energy. Was the latter transmuted from dark matter, or vice versa? However, since we cannot see either, could they actually exist? Of course they can, since bees and some animals are apparently able to use certain alternative strands of the electromagnetic spectrum to go about their business.

As well, there was my first clairvoyant who could see, and describe accurately, the spirit of my uncle who had manifested himself to him. That is, invisible cosmic matter may become visible under appropriate conditions; and invisible energy may be identifiable through its material impacts.

In the event, what is the point of all the fuss we make about the minuscule amount of visible matter in the Universe, including our human material selves? Are we not a lot more than our material bodies? The essence of each human being is of far more significance than the outer shell. Should we not be investigating non-visible matter and energy in their role in shaping humanity, in order to understand our place in the ephemeral realm?

Ultimate reality seems to be beyond the visible, tangible, cupidity and crudity of much of Earthly human existence.

Intimations about the Afterlife

I had a dream recently. I woke up at the conclusion of the dream, wondering whether it followed my recent speculations about the Afterlife. As a metaphysical Hindu, through some in-depth reading and careful analysis, I accept the probability of the existence of my soul, the reincarnation process, and a re-charging domain I conceive as the Afterlife.

The concept of an Afterlife is very challenging. Would insubstantial soul-entities, the spirits of former Earthlings, need a home of substance? But then I cannot conceive of an insubstantial place where a goodly number of soul-entities could sojourn. However, I realise that at age 89 I can expect to have my curiosity satisfied very soon.

Since I had been advised by a casual clairvoyant (or seer) to listen to my subconscious for messages from my Spirit Guide, I wonder if my dream was more than wishful thinking. Living in a flat country whose highest mountain is a mere pimple, whose rivers do not seem to flow like those in New Zealand, and whose dry terrain does not attract much rain (except for sudden troubling downpours occasionally), my subconscious may be seeking to compensate for this deprivation by Nature.

In my dream, I was on a lush mountain top, with a raging river below on one side and a cliff on the other – which allowed me to see the distant sea and a rocky shore. It was raining, but I do not remember getting wet. I heard voices, yet neither saw nor met anyone. It was as if we were all avoiding one another. In the morning, I again remembered this compensatory dream. After all, had I not been born and bred in a lush tropical terrain? Had I not enjoyed the years I had lived there?

Then, much to my great surprise, during my sleep a few nights later, I had a thought flitting through my mind. Intuitively, I felt that spirits created their own personal environments in the Afterlife. Was that message from my Spirit Guide? As a recluse of many years, I am attracted to this possibility.

Indubitably, the conceptual vista of my soul as a time-traveller, traversing countries and cultures through the occupation of a long series of human bodies, and living (with all its pains and pleasures), and learning while necessarily adapting to a new home, and ultimately returning to The Source morally purified is spiritually satisfying. As ever, it is the journey (in spite of great suffering on the way) which matters, not the arrival Home.

Past-life regressions

Unlike the spontaneous, volunteered claims by very young children (usually aged between 3 and about 6) about an immediate past life, regressions under hypnosis by adults to past lives – especially multiple past lives – cannot be as easily accepted as credible; they  cannot be investigated by interrogating anyone alive for confirmation.

My personal concern is of cryptomnesia (false memory). That could be triggered by the subject’s imagination and nature. In all investigations of the paranormal, some corruption by a parent, or a certain extent of subconscious recall by adults of what had been read or heard of – and interpreted through imagination – could be expected. The human mind is extensible and thereby fallible.

The great debunker Ian Wilson (refer his ‘After Death Experience’), in asking “Is a genuine ‘past life’ coming through?” when examining past-life regressions under hypnosis, begins with the Bridey Murphy case. Lacking verifiable historical information, that case was left in limbo (so to speak). However, good ‘deep trance’ subjects have reported regressions to past lives over the years. Wilson accepts that “there is not the slightest evidence for deliberate, conscious fraud on the part of either hypnotist or the subject hypnotised.”

Yet, “… many of these run-of-the-mill regressions can show signs of the subject fantasizing, or drawing on present twentieth-century knowledge, rather than knowledge of the period appropriate to his or her ‘past life.’” As well, while ‘suggestion’ by the hypnotist can, in fairness, be ruled out, subjects may be influenced by any ‘expectations’ expressed by a hypnotist; for ex ample, that there is no ‘no rest between one life and another.’

Credibly, Ian Wilson asks “… why we retain in our minds material that we cannot get access to without the aid of a hypnotist? … ‘we’, whatever ‘we’ might be, are something of rather more permanence than our physical bodies?” This is an encouraging conclusion by one who seems to have difficulty acknowledging the existence of human souls.

Hans TenDam (refer ‘Exploring Reincarnation’) makes a sound distinction between adult recollection and past-life regression under hypnosis. “Full regression, originally a hypnotic state, brings back memories, but more intense, more like reliving than remembering … we experience the situation just as it happened at that time.” That makes the reported regressed life more credible. Since “Hypnosis is a psychotic shift in consciousness, not a loss of will” (TenDam), the hypnotist needs to be trustworthy.

Hypnosis is subject to certain fears: that the subject is open to suggestion; losing control; given instructions contrary to one’s beliefs; or psychologically damaging; but all are without foundation. Stage hypnosis can, of course, be based on ridicule; but in fun.

Strangely, hypnosis can ease or solve psychosomatic complaints. Physical trauma in a past life can apparently manifest itself in the present body. Two friends and I can attest to seers removing specific pains. In my case, the seer/healer called upon her Spirit Healer to identify a couple of my past live traumas. When I challenged her by pointing out that my past lives are surely private (within my soul memory, possibly), she said that her Healer had access to them. What could I say?

After her healing, my pains disappeared, for ever. And I had not told anyone about them. What could I then say? And I had consulted the healer only in an investigative capacity; to learn about psychic healing. My friends had comparable experiences.

TenDam concludes from his survey thus: “Apparently our soul registers every experience, conscious as well as unconscious. It stores all of our sensory impressions, all our beliefs and thoughts, all our semi-conscious and subconscious reactions.”

I am not sure that I want to delve too deeply into my past lives. Yet, the most recent one intrigues me. And I have intimations of aspects of that life, and where on the globe that occurred. I find that fascinating.

As well, I have clear evidence of life after death.


Life after Earthly death?

Why not? Yet, there are those who say, with great certitude, that at death the body and everything associated with it – such as the mind and its memories – come to an end. Of course, they have no basis for that claim. How could they know?

Then, some church-attending friends told me that they do not accept that they have a soul, and which represents the core or essence of their existence. Indeed, in spite of their Bible offering eternal bliss in Heaven (by being with Christ), these genuinely good people do not know where they will go after death. A couple have said that an ‘essence’ of what they are may remain – possibly in the memories of their loved ones.

Those who have indicated that they fear death belong to a church which has threatened a location named hell for non-compliance with its teachings. Interestingly, it is decades since I heard reference by that Church to babies born in, or conceived in, sin; or to that location named ‘limbo.’

Yet, there are others whose religious beliefs offer – not damnation or bliss – but a continuity of existence after Earthly death; and which allows re-birth. The Western version of this belief – which I think of as ‘New Age’ – offers ‘guides’ in a location generally known as the Afterlife who – with or without any judgement about one’s past – either set a pathway for the next life or assist in choosing a pathway (always on Earth).
I have also been told of a faith whose members may move to another planet after life on Earth. Whether this offers a richer life than available after death through one of the ‘desert’ religions is not clear to me. This latter religion seems to offer pleasant surroundings and a pleasurable life.

The principal proponent of a sequence of re-births is Hinduism. Unlike some Western psychotherapists and ‘New Agers’ who refer to life between lives as something known, and who offer descriptions of the Afterlife as an abode (with some such abodes offering scope for self-assessment), Hinduism’s Afterlife offers (as told to me by a Western spiritualist) an opportunity to continue with my learning.

This may overlap another Western perspective of the Afterlife. Here one can purportedly have access to the ‘Akashic Record.’ This record allegedly covers every action ever taken on Earth by humans. Would this Record enable self-tuning of one’s next path on Earth?
So, we go nowhere after Earthly death. Or, we can, or do, go somewhere. That somewhere may offer pain or pleasure; or nothing specific. If ‘somewhere’ is a neutral place, the dead may choose their next life on Earth; or be guided to such a choice; or acquire learning; or just have a rest (slumber?) while waiting to commence the next life. For this process to be meaningful, through the principle of cause-and-effect, the next life would have, implicitly and autonomously, been shaped by one’s past lives (especially the most recent one), would it not?

How credible are those who provide descriptions of the Afterlife in both physical and sociological terms? As well, are modern-day descriptions more accurate than those going back 2,000 years or more? How would any of these writers know? If through revelation, how could one separate this from hallucinations or imagination?

The veil around Earthly life seems impenetrable.

RELIGION and I (Part 1)

As a primary school boy, I was sent to the Pilleyar (Ganesha) temple at examination times, although I topped my class by a large margin every term, except once.  I also accompanied my parents at other times.  We were ardent in our faith.  My father, having overcome a serious illness at about 33, died suddenly at 47, when I was 18.  Within 3 years I then lost the family’s savings through a spectacular academic failure.  So much for faith and fervent prayer.

My future was thereby destroyed, as clearly forewarned after my father’s demise by a perambulating yogi, but unheeded by us.  I doubt that my mother and I were competent to absorb such a warning.  In any event, surely what had to happen had to work itself out.  Late in life I realised that what the yogi had done was to turn my mother’s vision towards Australia, which was in a direction not normally taken by students from British Malaya seeking an overseas qualification.  My folly (or was it my destiny?) led to my mother and my sisters being impoverished.  So much for temple rituals and the priesthood.  I gave away God, Hinduism and all religio-cultural rituals.

Then learning and logic took over!  Studying the belief systems of the simpler societies at my university, and dipping into some anthropology, sociology, psychology, and the major religions, I realised that there has been, and is, an innate need in many, if not most, of us to understand what we humans are, and our place in the Cosmos.

I realised further that:  the complexity and beauty, as well as the observable but inadequately explicable aspects of the experienced world;  the exceedingly complex patterns of inter-linked cause and effect, action and reaction, and the inter-dependencies of the physical, chemical and electromagnetic forces affecting us;  the uniformity, the invariability, the predictive capacity of the laws of nature;  the ecological balance between mobile and fixed forms of life;  the intuitive yearning by sensitive souls for communion with sublime or higher forces not clearly understood;  and the inferred influence of the spirit world, all of which affect our lives, could not have occurred purely by chance.  Instead, they might, I felt, reflect the mind and soul of a Creator.  How else could all that have occurred?  By chance?  Is that another name for an inexplicable cause, akin to the gods of simpler people?

I did conclude, logically, that there had to be a Creator of all that exists.  I then noted, with great interest, that an academic and confirmed atheist had reached the same conclusion after a lifetime of non-belief in a Creator, for exactly the same reasons.  There has to be a Creator, he now accepts, thereby upsetting most severely his former fellow-believers in that causal mechanism named Chance.  Like me, he doesn’t claim to know; only that a creator god makes (unverifiable) sense.


(This is an extract from my book ‘Musings at Death’s Door: an ancient bicultural Asian-Australian ponders about Australian society.’)



Seeking to explain the Universe

I have great difficulty with the Big Bang Theory. I question the following: something arising from nothing; the origin of the vast energy necessary for the claimed initial expansion; whether light maintains its intensity through infinite space; how far does the Hubble Telescope see in infinite space; what is the role of ‘dark matter’ in this claimed expansion; is it not premature to claim that the Big Bang cosmogony is proven?

In the meantime, fellow-bloggers may be interested in the following extracts from ‘On the Cosmos’ in my book ‘Musings at death’s door.’

“Following a genuinely educational curriculum set by the British for Malaya, I read about the prevailing ‘Stationary State’ theory relating to the structure of the Cosmos.  So, modern cosmologists were agreeing with an ancient Hindu perspective of durability in the heavens.  Then, however, came the ‘Big Bang’ theory.  This presumably was needed to explain what the Hubble Telescope had shown; that all sighted cosmic objects were seemingly moving away from one another.

Then came the ‘Big Crunch’ concept, seemingly in recognition that unending expansion did not make sense even in an infinity of space.  I, however, wonder if a glimpse of Hindu cosmic speculations might also have been influential.

Then came the ‘Mini-Bang’ extension, presumably to explain the lack of accumulating empty spaces. That is, if everyone is moving out of a sports stadium through gates open 360 degrees, wouldn’t the stadium become empty eventually?  The idea of a ‘Mini-Crunch’ had logically to follow.  All that was to fit the Hubble Telescope’s observations within a durable Cosmos; and a hint that invisible matter (or energy) might be filling the spaces resulting from the expansion of visible galaxies.

We were now back to an enduring Cosmos, but with significant changes in structures.  It is durability but without stability – an interesting concept.  Did not some unknown Hindus postulate that the universe renews itself periodically?  There are two strands in this belief.  The first strand says that at the end of a ‘day of Brahma,’ Earth (and other worlds) are temporarily dissolved (another view is of a temporary suspension).  A ‘day’ is equal to 4.32 billion human years.  At the end of another 4.32 billion years, representing a ‘night’ of Brahma, regeneration commences.  Dissolved, suspended, crunched?

Brahma is the Creator God.  The other strand of this belief says that at the end of Brahma’s life, equal to 311.04 trillion years, the whole Cosmos is dissolved.  After a great cosmic rest period equivalent to the duration of Brahma’s life, yet another creative cycle will commence, with another Brahma creating another Cosmos.  What a quaint vista this is.  What kind of mind conceived it?

It all sounds so simple.  When and how did these concepts originate?  Why?  What was the trigger?  These speculations promise long-term durability, but with vast changes in structures occurring in a sequenced path.  What I was taught as a boy – that the universe is without a beginning or an end – seems to be quite correct.  Continuity is assured, but with gaps in the creative and regenerative process.  For some reason, the firefly’s winks of light come to mind.”