All of the following stories are by Rev. Evan C. Corbett, and are copyrighted. Do not distribute. They are all memories of past lives, so are subject to a certain amount of scrutiny. This is not meant as a work of fiction.

Universal law supposedly prohibits the recollection of more than 22 past lives. Even then the recollection is usually scattered. The reason for this is if we were to recall all of the experience of our past lives we would stop making the same mistakes. The ability to recall anything I suspect comes from what is called the Reincarnating Personal Entity. This is a piece of our personality that changes little if at all from lifetime to lifetime. You might say it is the personality attribute of our soul. So therefore personality is not part of mind.

The first lifetime I can remember is that of a tree frog or some similar species. I had taken it unto myself to spend some of my spare time thinking. I also found I could communicate with some individuals of other species. While thinking is not something tree frogs usually do in great abundance, I thought it fun to daydream, and to talk with others. The talking I’m speaking of was telepathy. I knew there had to be more to life than what I was experiencing and this became my quest. Thinking wasn’t easy though. Every new day, I would be an ordinary tree frog, but on occasions where I was bored, I might start thinking. The thought level was similar to a human's, but I couldn’t do it all the time, and to do it I had to do absolutely nothing else. Even the slightest movement would break my concentration. I also had little to no memory. I might move one hop and completely forget what I was doing. But when I was meditating/thinking, I could remember a reasonable bit.

One day a young boy came close to my pond. Normally I would stand perfectly still so as not to be seen or hop into water or some other hiding place. This particular day I had been already doing a lot of thinking, and so I mentally called to him. He picked me up and I was terrified, and did my best to get away. He took me away to show others what he had caught, and was eventually told to return me, much to my thanking, and mental prodding (not that I think as a telepathic tree frog I did much to control the minds of humans).

The next day while thinking, and being thankful I escaped that harrowing experience, I realized that was the something more I had been seeking: I wanted to be one of them. So I asked the benevolent Being, that had helped me gather food and keep me safe, to make me one of those. He told me that I had more to go through in future lives, but that I and all of the life around me would eventually take such forms. I was disappointed, I wanted to be human right away, I was also disappointed that those that prey on me would become human, and before me at that. Mercifully, I died in the next couple of days.

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Another animal incarnation I recall is that of a Canadian or some other goose. I was a male. I hated that existence. It was always too cold, and we were always flying. Lots of work, migration is. I tried taking the lead once, but quickly tired. I think the reason that I disliked that existence is the fact I could not really communicate much with my gaggle, except to initiate mating, fleeing, or a change of direction to find food. I don’t think I knew any of the souls there and that led to loneliness.

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My first lifetime as a human took place in Norway. I was a huge man, and had been a pet dog in the community the lifetime before so I was familiar with it. But I was dumb as rocks. I didn’t understand what it was to be human. I was strong, and hard working and tried to do what I could to help. I followed orders. After adulthood, I wanted a mate, but being strong and hard working doesn’t make one desirable to the women, especially when my face was none too pretty, and my brains where as good as Lenny’s from Of Mice and Men.

The most honored people in our community were the sailors, the Vikings. The risked life and limb, and endured the toughest conditions to bring black plunder which made our community better as a whole. They had the best houses and the cutest of women.

So thinking that would improve my standing, I signed up to be a sailor. They took me because they thought I could row as two men, which really wasn’t true. I really was only as adequate as one man, but ate as two. I was a liability actually. But the retarded are always gifted with gleeful personalities. So I was pleasant to be around, and was kept around.

After my first trip, I was a veteran sailor, and was offered an immediate position on a warship, rather than the other vessel. I really just wanted to find a mate and settle down, but I still wasn’t any more appealing to the ladies, so I agreed to join up and this next mission which left just days after we got home from being gone for months.

Oh well, I consigned to myself that my life was going to be on the seas. At least I felt accepted there. It was on that trip, just a few days after we left home, I saw a mermaid off the side of the ship. I had been warned not to swim with armor on, but she was so beautiful, I had to go talk to her. Of course none of the other Vikings saw her, but that is the nature of a Fay. Drown I did, due to a prank caused a Fay, in this life incarnated as Angie Papkin.

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While I was still a young soul, I met both Dave and Dawn. They were female twins. Gypsy like nomads of the Sahara. I think I was a nomad of a different tribe, if not region, and male. I fell in love with Dave, and wanted him to marry me, but that would’ve meant leaving his tribe, and therefore his twin, which he could not do. I stayed with their tribe for several months if not years, and I only recall one moment from this lifetime. It was night, and we left the group to talk as those who are in love do. We were lying down on top of a sand dune, staring at the starry night sky, and she (now he) introduced me to the concept of the stars being pictures in the sky. Constellations.

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Five to fifty thousand years ago, in a land called Egypt, there were four friends. They had grown up together, and had gone to school together. The school they went to was not too unlike our own colleges. You paid tuition, assuming you were even noble enough to get in, you had teachers and homework, and when you graduated you were expected to gain employment. However, in ancient Egypt they did teach on a subject refuted by today's modern professors and scholars and scientists as being hogwash: The subject being magick.

And these four friends were quite well accomplished in the arts of making real what wasn't before. And they graduated so quickly it seemed as if time didn't want to stick around, as if it had someplace to be. All graduates where expected to pass a final test: they had to prove they were improving the community at large by adding something to it, by making it better. And so the four friends graduated and decided to go on a journey. They split up and went to the four corners of the globe, and after a while they came back with great magicks from foreign lands. This they said should allow them to past the tests and grant them admission into the priest caste, the caste that was just below nobility, and above the military.

And time when on and these four grew very strong with magicks they had learned from foreign waters, and found that there was nothing that was out of their power to do. No spell or sorcery had eluded them, they thought they were little gods, but they also knew they would be punished by the gods should they choose to be arrogant and misuse their mighty magicks.

So one day they sat around in the thinking chamber, and tried to figure if they really had come up with every magick possible and to decide if any more research in magick was ever needed to be done. In just a few minutes, one sat up a shouted that he had it! He exclaimed that the four friends could not possibly create a spell so powerful that it would unravel time and space.

So the four friends in agreement that it could not be done sat down and tried to do it.

Every young mage knows that the astral plane in a plane of energy, of vibration. And every young mage knows the entire physical world has an astral duplicate. And every young mage knows that the funny stone shapes we today call pyramids generate enormous amounts of this astral energy in a preserving frequency right in its dead center. Any magician working in such a place would have a great boost in raw power and creativity.

The four friends reserved time in just such a place for their secret plan. They labored for weeks on end, saving all the money they could to buy time in the pyramid and seeing as how they were very famous, and very powerful from their journeys, the high priests did give them a discount that made the effort much easier.

After a time their spell was finished, it was a spell that would end the existence, and with all the excess energy that a pyramid of such a stature creates, the spell activated and all was gone forever.

This memory is the least clear, and it could be whole or in part imaginary.

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Of all my past lives, this one except for my immediate past had the most influence on this life. I was in the priest hood in Egypt, and had risen to the highest rank in the most important priesthood. I was High Priest of the temple of Amun(?) in the capitol. It was an administrative position. I oversaw the priests who would personally attend to the pharaoh, as well as his advisors. I had risen to that position using the great magicks I had learned and earned in that lifetime. I charmed and schemed my way to the top.

The pharaoh was old, and his advisors ran the show, and I controlled the advisors. I controlled life and death, and the law of the land. But such power cannot stop someone from dyeing anyway of course. And the aged pharaoh died and his son took his place. At first he left things to me. But something had caused me to leave the capitol for a while and in my absence that pharaoh took charge with quite a will of his own. His advisors, who weren’t as loyal as I naively thought, warned him that I would try to control him, and of course I denied trying to influence anyone or anything. I had to be very careful in my ways. Those priest who were loyal to me were removed from positions, and my standing in the court was greatly weakened.

At one point I was called before him with only a few of his closest advisors present. I remember the torch lit room with curtains, if any, drawn and it being a very bright day. He asked me if I liked my job, what I really wanted to do in life, why I should be allowed to hold my job, or keep my life for that matter, with my attempts to rule the empire for myself. I managed to keep my life, by further denying that I had any influence in this court or the court of his father, and insisting that I only had his best spiritual interests in mind (It wasn’t just denial that saved me, it was every last bit of my magick as well.). He asked me to wait outside while he decided what he was going to do with me. I waited for many hours, which seemed like an eternity.

He decided to give me the task of performing daily rituals of prayer in his name so that he was free to rule the empire. I accepted this task. I doubted the gods would accept him doing prayers by proxy, but what can you do? The pharaoh had made up his mind that it would work and I couldn’t dissuade him otherwise. My life was saved.

So I transferred to another temple, which was better suited for my new task, which eventually I undertook with great humility. At first I was angry with myself for letting my power slip, when those who had come before me ruled the kingdom by controlling pharaoh had never been stopped. It was always the way things were done. Faith and superstition was king. It was just my bad luck to have a strong ruler who didn’t fear than man in front of him. So I did my duty, at first begrudgingly. I was high priest of that temple but designated the clerical work to subordinates and spent the nights in the town much as a commoner or merchant.

I eventually learned to enjoy the many hours a day it would take to do the rituals properly, and they greatly contributed to my magickal power. I had ruled the world before this, and found with my new power that again I could control the pharaoh but found that I really didn’t want to. It made me too snaky, and I didn’t much like the company of the other snakes in the court.

At some point in this life of prayer in the morning and partying in the evening I met a woman who fell in love with me. I’m sure I just used her for her body. With my snaky charm it wasn’t hard to get anything I wanted. As she began demanding more than just simple affection I forced her away. Little did I know that I was toying with her heart. I eventually felt compassion for her, and learned that I did not know how to love in that sense.

It was in that lifetime that I used great magicks to control the course of my reality. I was aware of reincarnation. I thought it was a curse put upon me by the gods. I tried using my magick to stop the cycle of reincarnation for myself. I demanded to go to either heaven or oblivion to no avail. I knew my efforts were to not succeed, but as is the way with the Egyptian believes I believed two opposing things at the same time.

I scanned the timeline and found that my present lifetime was the first possibility of feeling true love. I created my great desire in this life to find true love. I gave myself the message that Kate Maberly was my soulmate. And so for years in this life I pined for her. Eventually I gave up on that, as I had come to realize that I would never marry her. I later met Stefanie Layton. My intuition told me that she was the one. The intuitions of others said as much as well. Even the tarot agreed. The tarot had also agreed that Kate Maberly was my soulmate as well. Intuitions there were confuzeld as well. I knew Kate was the one yet others could clearly see that she was not going to be with me. Magick could not influence this. Even the mighty Perdé set was useless.

So I set myself up for a fall. My intuition, which I trusted, told me to turn off my safeties, and to collapse the Barker Street Defense, and to ignore pattern because I had found the one. Well hindsight is 20/20. While I should’ve known better, the extreme loneliness I felt and desperateness to get rid of my virginity and to start my householder’s life took over. Myself as the High Priest had engineered the whole thing. I had finally felt true love. True love for Stefanie. But that wasn’t enough to just feel it. I didn’t know that I was feeling it. I knew it, but not on the grand Meta level I think on as a mage. To feel it on that level it had to be taken away. Only by loving and loosing could I realize what it really felt like. All of this pain and suffering just to learn a simple lesson. I can never cause such pain to another.

The day the big ‘D’ word, divorce, was dropped, was the day I got the set from the High Priest. His influence over my life ended there. I died in that life believing that oblivion or heaven would await me.

Pattern now clearly indicates that I will meet the perfect mate next, but I am too damaged to stay in this incarnation. I can only hope that another perfect mate will meet me early in my next life. That is my greatest wish, but I doubt it will happen.

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I was again born into the priesthood in Egypt. I was not yet an adult before I was able to recall with clarity what had transpired in my last life. It took me virtually no time to rise to the highest station in the priesthood. I chose not to use my power to rule the kingdom, although I did use it to keep myself in power and to get done what I wanted to get done.

As I came into the knowledge of my past life early in my priestly studies, I found that others too recalled past life experiences, and had kept them to themselves as reincarnation is simply not part of the Egyptian beliefs. So I concluded that either the whole of the priesthood is cursed to come back, or perhaps all of Egypt was cursed. With this in mind I took it upon myself to change the way things are.

I created the necropolises and started binding every soul I met to them. I then set the priest hood in motion to write the book of the dead and distribute it to all of the temples. The rest is history.

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I had a lifetime in china not too long after I left Egypt. I was a gardener to a house of nobles. I was the kind of person (I think I was male, but I’m not sure) that everyone could talk to. I was a sworn keeper of secrets, and was often put in a position where my knowledge of what one person had said to me would get the other in trouble, or hurt them etc.

At one point the head of the household had demanded information from me. It was a speak and live or be silent or deceitful and die situation. So I told him everything he wanted to know, everything that would save my life, and nothing more. I didn’t want to betray any of my secrets, but in that situation they were not mine to keep. The people in the household forgave me, at least for the most part.

That life ended with the separation of my head from my body. The master of the house had done something wrong, and officials came and I think they were told that I knew what they wanted to know. I didn’t this time. I think that death of mine was due to me being loose lipped about the master’s secrets. They weren’t the kind of personal secrets about love and hate; they were about actions and whereabouts. I guess I thought those weren’t big secrets, and didn’t realize my actions.

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I had another incarnation in china, this time definitely as a male. I was well to do, as I recall having servants that were not employees for my business, but were employed for personal servitude i.e. gardeners, housemaids, etc. I may have inherited a fortune, and it may have been luck, but I had money. I think I traded in agricultural goods. I remember speaking to one of my employees/subcontractors one day. It was an overcast sky, and I was slightly disappointed in his performance. I wanted more productivity than what I was getting. He had with him his young son who was so handsome that I could barely keep my eyes off of him. I wanted that boy as my lover in the worst possible way and I did eventually get my wish. I know I devastated that boy. I paid for my transgression in my last life.

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I was once an orphan girl in France sometime around the 14^th century. I was raised in a religious institution. I was a place where a dark demon worshiping and human sacrificing took place. Having the pervious power of being a high priest of Egypt I made it my quest to destroy the cult. I was too young at first, as magic doesn’t really bloom in a person until after their mind reaches the full capacity for formal operational thought, which usually takes place around 13. So I guess I was somewhere between 13 and 23 when I snuck down into the dark chamber where the main rituals took place. I had already been initiated into their ways, so I had a direct connection with the demon, whose name and seal I suspect is in the Sumerian book of the dead (necronomicon). Having been connected to it actually made things more difficult because I had to fight the demon’s influence, and violate oaths. I tried using my power to cut the demons ties to this world, but I wasn’t strong enough to do it in one blow. I snuck down there several times, and by intuition of the high priests alone I was caught. But that led to their downfall. I used, I suspect, a karma-tesch spell to bind myself to the world, and they by sacrificing me to the demon not only freed my soul from its grasp, but also severed its ties to the earth. It was banished by my death.

“These things have to be done delicately” – Wicked Witch of the West

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I had a subsequent reincarnation in France immediately after. This time not an orphan, and I had a twin sister, who I’ve identified in this life as Bree Allan (sp?). While I accomplished my mission it was years before the cult was completely routed out of France.

I don’t remember the events that led up to this event, but I wound up stealing my twin sister’s soulmate out of jealousy.

I was eventually left on the streets. I remember that all I wanted to do was paint. Paint back then, of course, was very expensive. At one point I got my hands on some colored chalk and I decorated some sidewalks, but my artwork was washed away by rain. I eventually found a side of a building that never seemed to get wet, and was out of the way enough to for anyone to notice my graffiti. A policeman, or whatever they were called back then, caught me anyway. It was long after I did it, and had no chalk on me, but standing there admiring my own work, daydreaming, and staying out of the rain myself. But he had seen me chalk the sidewalks, which was permissible, but the sides of buildings were not. So in trouble ,I was.

Being on the streets of France I had no money, and was left to beg or steal, or work as a whore. I did occasionally find a guy who was willing to take me in, in trade for sex. Even found one good guy who wasn’t interested in sex, and for once I was. I so longed for the modern conveniences we take for granted today, such as enough food to eat, shelter from the elements, and television. I could foresee the present clearly, and longed for it. Now is the most convenient time to live in. Cherish it.

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Another clear past life memory I have is of being a male born in the UK in the 1740’s or so. I think I was named Chris. It was a rough time living in England. But I was doing all right, I was going to school for medicine. In my last year I was kicked out or left.

So then money was scarce and work was hard. I tried moving some distance away from the school and set up shop as a doctor anyway, but that didn’t last long. (I might have left medical school early just to set up shop. Maybe I had a disagreement with a professor) I met in this time a man that is now my stepfather. He was the owner of a general store. He had three sons, all of which hated him. I couldn’t see why at first because he was a very kind and talkative individual. I’d go there and spent hours there just chatting not necessarily buying anything. When he died the sons closed the shop, as I don’t think it was making a profit and I think they were paying for its losses, hence the dispute between father and sons.

After a while I decided to leave mother England. The shopkeeper was dead, and I didn’t I had any family that I was attached to so I went to the colonies. Boston specifically. Moving to the colonies was part of my plan for years. I often talked of it, but I so loved the style of living we had in England. Things were comfortable and safe.

I hated the trip over and swore I’d never get on a boat again. I found work down by the docks, and eventually decided to set up shop as a doctor out in the country. After a few years of making the measly wages of a country doctor I made way to set up shop in Boston. I was scared to do this at first as I didn’t speak doctor to well, and was afraid of being turned in by my fellow practitioners. I also seem to recall particularly catering to women, being the pervert that I was, giving them the attention their husbands failed to do so, but with a professional guise. Eventually I believe I was either caught or ran into an old classmate. My trouble coulda’ been worse, but some clever blackmail allowed me to close the shop and leave the area. I stayed around, but kept clear of the upper class I was once part of.

I was a drunk. Even went into a partnership to found a brewery. Also wanted to buy a yacht. Built a dock that floated on empty beer barrels. While I never wanted to sail on open seas again, I found that small boats were quite fun.

Theme Song: Old Blind Dogs – Moneymusk Lads

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I have but an excerpt of this american lifetime. It took place in Northern Virginia (I know this only because the terrain from driving through and the vibrations match). I think this was another lifetime where I was a drunk, taking place sometime around the civil war, but I have no memory of the conflict. I was a married drunk with a daughter, Caroline. But the mother (Suzie?) died, and I (named Stephen in that life), perhaps with help, perhaps by force, most likely out of my own free will, got on the wagon and owed up to my responsibility. Granted, I was a liaise fair sorta parent, as my daughter was already an old soul and didn’t seem to need much from me, at least in regards to house work, education, etc. She was pretty self sufficient, and I greatly enjoyed spending time with her; the ideal daughter. She was maybe eight when that happened, and we were farmers. Caroline was quite good with a violin.

And then another soul entered into our party of two. Her name was Carla (perhaps spelled with a ‘K’ or Clara). She was a chubby little chit of a child in my former perspective. She took my daughter away from me, playing in all their free time. My daughter was my emotional life raft, and Carla I couldn’t trust. Carla was marked as a dark being, and had previously been involved in the darker orders of Spain, Italy, or South America. As a sleeper I could still tell this.

One day Carla came over to talk to me. She knew she wasn’t supposed to come over until my daughter had finished chores. We went for a long walk, and Carla introduced herself talking spiritual being to spiritual being. She was clearly going to be awakened that life and I, due to the social influence of the Christian church at the time fear my own power as being something of evil. While this warmed Carla to me for a while, but she was still a trouble maker. Carla constantly wanted to involve my daughter in magick, boys, getting out of chores, among other things. Eventually rather than leaving it to silent pressure, I decided it would be best that I have an active hand, despite my fears of my apparent knowledge of the supernatural as being something of the devil.

Seven of us total were joined for a fate altering spell. The spell is now manifesting, and I seem to be the only one of the casters aware of it. I seek to change this, but it is going to be very delicate, as they are not aware, yet magickally active. Sleep walkers. Further, they are rich and famous, and I, well, am not. We did the spell one night by a bonfire. Both mine and Carla’s family were there, and possibly some other neighbors. Most of them were unaware that anything was happening apart from perhaps storytelling and play of the imagination. The souls involved included me, Caroline, Carla, Carla’s dad that I know of from that time line; me, the two somnambulists, their dad (aka Carla’s Dad), their oldest brother and possibly two of their step siblings. The spell also included a spirit, summoned by Carla… unbeknownst to me at first, this spirit lent energy to the work, and changed it: forcing me apart from everyone this lifetime.

That spirit, I believe, as of 5/07 is dead, for it made the mistake of pretending to be Apollo, whose portfolio includes celebrities and the arts. That spirit was blocking my magick from reaching out to those two, and had done so for years. It was either a Myan/Incan/Aztec spirit or an Abramelinic spirit.

Later Caroline married away, I believe without my permission or blessing to a richer family. She began living her dream early. I believe my friend Ashley Lankford in this life, was my daughter’s mother or sister in law in that life. I don’t remember what happened to any of the rest of them. My late wife from that lifetime is one of their sisters.

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This set of memories I have, I doubt. It’s my only famous lifetime. I was Orville Wright. My best friend in this life (Rev. David A. Donsky) was Wilbur. He was Doc. Holliday in a life probably just previous. I won’t bore you will the story of our life, as it is well documented. But I will tell you what I remember.

I remember leaving home to seek my fortune. I remember not liking my parents too much, and not having too much to do with my brother. He was a playmate when I was young, but we hadn’t bonded much. I failed to find fortune on my own, as is usually the case with me, and was strapped as usual for cash so I moved in with my brother. I don’t remember if he already had the bicycle shop or not but me working in it came quickly after.

Wilbur wanted to build a racecar in the shed like the ones we kept hearing about and probably went to see at one point or another. He thought we could make a lot of money winning races, but I thought our limited resources would only produce a mediocre car. I instead proposed the idea of us building the world’s first flying machine. Others have tried, as it was an engineering feat worthy of the history books. It was an eventuality that someone would build it.

For the most part it wasn’t about the fame or the money it was about the act of doing it. We didn’t care so much about being first. We cared about the fun we were having in the shed. We spent countless hours playing verbal role-playing games. We do this even today. It’s a learned skill. It’s part telepathic in the way we transfer images of what’s happening to each other. Anybody can role-play with a set of rules such as found in D&D or Vampire. And children role-play without complex rules all the time. We role-play with the rules being one person tells the other what’s going on and plays the background characters and the other plays the main character in the storyline. It’s the most fun I generally have.

I also recall being jealous of Wilbur having girlfriends, and he encouraged me to get one as well. Our wives became the greatest source of grief in our lives. I guess we picked poorly. They didn’t understand our desire to spend time more with each other alone than with them. Well at least that was my desire.

I also recall Wilbur having once committed adultery with my wife. It caused a bit of a fight, more with me and my wife than with Wilbur but we forgave each other in time. The biggest oddity I recall about this life is his having scrambled eggs and beer for breakfast. A local brewery had a beer that went just right with local scrambled eggs. It was a kind of harmonic resonance of food. The beer had to be very fresh and the eggs cooked just right.

Dave and I have discussed this life but he does not recall anything to confirm our identity but the beer and eggs and the gaming in the shed. He has told me that he would not be able to stand being named Orville, and I would be able to stand being named Wilbur so if the memory is correct, the identities are definitely correct.

After having watched a documentary on the Wright Brothers, I concluded that our poorly received strategy for selling our design for the airplane was something thought up by Wilbur. Even today Dave thinks in a similar matter. I think if such a business plan for such an important piece of technology today was proposed that it would be better received. Patents either didn’t exist then or weren’t highly trusted.

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I was in my last life Allison Parker. My middle name might have been Elizabeth (I think Beth was more likely a sister) or Anne, and my self-adopted nickname was Jazzy or Jasmine. I died in 1969, shot and killed by an ex in the Wading Pines campground. I was a hippie and a slut.

I grew up in Pennsylvania or New Jersey. We were a well to do middle class family. I went to private school and had about as much fun there as I did in this life, that is to say it was hell. Further I was physically, mentally and sexually abused. I had poor eyesight and exceptional manual dexterity. I was a lithe blonde with C cups and green eyes.

One clear memory of that life I had took place on a field trip to Rome of all places and I remember being in the coliseum and seeing the lions carved into the sides. I remember having to wear that god awful pleated skirt, when I preferred jeans. I remember thinking then, that I was bored to tears, as I had seen this before.

My teenage years were preoccupied with thoughts of sex, as they were in this life. However then I had an overwhelming fear of the pain that may accompany doing it for the first time. After my fourth lover or so the pain did go away.

I left home probably just after college and in I found it easy. I was hot, and living with fellow hippies made life easy. I rarely if ever worked in the conventional sense. I was an unmarried housewife or a party girl depending on how you look at it. I was taking a lifetime off.

I loved pot and cigarettes. I loved sex even more and had an extremely over active libido. Pot made me horny as hell and I made my boyfriends sore. Sex was not about love for me. It was more of an unhealthy obsession. At one point I tried making a game of it. I was living in a college town, maybe Rowan, and I tried having a new guy every night. I was conducting an unscientific study of O faces. I wanted to understand why some people made them and why not others and to what degree people would make them. I also wanted to be able to predict by looking at someone what kind of O face he’d make.

I was aware in this life, but didn’t know how or if I wanted to pursue my spiritual interests. I did find the path. I was initiated. I remember Harvey, the Master’s representative in the US at that time. I couldn’t however follow the path too well. Drugs we too fun, but I did cut back. I was equally addicted to cheese steaks. And then there was sex… Going a day without was like fasting. I felt as though I absolutely needed it to survive, but eventually I learned to masturbate adequately, but …

I knew if I was going to follow the path, which was a very strong desire of mine, I needed to quit those things. I could tell that I was not going to be able to complete the Great Work in that lifetime, so I began to prepare for my next one. I built for myself the Baker St. Defense. I planed a number of events for this lifetime. As it turned out I had done that in a past life already and I was stronger in that lifetime as a High Priest in Egypt. So I knew then that my next lifetime was going to be my last, and was very important.

I met a few people I know today. Mary Linthicum. Frank (was a manager at a Burger King I worked at but previously ran a rotisserie chicken shop in Philadelphia). I had stayed with her for a few months, and rode her motorcycles. My closed male companion was not exactly what I was looking for. He was not the knight on a white horse I was waiting for. He was Mr. Right Now. He was Bob, now known as Mike Yammer. He drove a yellow VW minibus with a Porsche engine. He was a bounty hunter by trade. We lived mostly in Elmer NJ.

At some point I must have worked as a wet nurse as I was always lactating yet had no kids. I was so bad that I carried a spare bra with me in case I started leaking.

Theme Song: Steely Dan -- Reeling in the Years

“Man, oh man, oh man!”

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So in conclusion, each lifetime is a unique experience, and each mind is unique, as they are mortal. Each soul is identical, as they are truly immortal. Personality seems to be a fused aspect of mind, soul, and reincarnating personal entity. Each soul knows what it needs to move on, and what it wants. Each reincarnating personal entity resists change. Families and friends tend to stick together lifetime after lifetime and are modernly called soul circles. It seems to me that most people have a unique soul circle unto themselves.

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© Rev. Evan C. Corbett