Whaddup GG's! Really excited to read to you this recount of a very trippy past life recall experience that my friend Stefan had when he underwent a medical procedure. Trust me this is worth the listen. He felt as if he was in another dimension for 1000 years reliving all of his past lives in vivid detail. I absolutely loved reading this and wanted to share with my fellow galactic peeps! Was I dying? I did not think so. But the energy was so strong, so imperative, so insistent, so demanding! I received a telepathic message that I was going to have the opportunity to see/relive some, perhaps all, of my past lives in miniature. And it was going to start unfolding for me, to me, right now!I was surrounded, ethereally at least, by enormous clouds of negative energies emanating from an enormous crowd of thugs, murderers, cutthroats, pickpockets, grifters, grafters, dope dealers, assassins, thieves and pedophiles. As much as I was appalled by this grotesque presence, I also realized with a shock, that I had been all of them at some time, in some form. I saw the most degraded, disgusting, profaned, unethical, immoral, tainted and tarnished behaviors imaginable—and I had participated in them all!I was momentarily moved to run, to hide, to disappear! I almost blacked out from the enormity of the shame and heartless, listless ennui that immediately settled over me. But some fragment of soul (I could call it no other) rallied and sent a call for action to every neuron and axon in my body, flooding the quadrillions of octillions of cells with the purest vitality—and I, the “I” who believed I was “I,” infused the flagging body and arose, a phoenix from its ashes, unburdened for just the slightest fraction of a fraction of a second (zeptosecond flashed through my brain), full and strong and vital, as if this were, in fact, a last ditch opportunity to draw a last full breath and live; or in the immortal words of Country Joe McDonald:And now my friend we meet again.We shall see which one will bendUnder the strain of death's golden eyes,Which one of us shall win the prizeTo live, and which one will die.'Tis I, my friend, yes 'tis I,Shall kill to live, again and again,To clutch the throat of sweet revenge,For life is here, only for the taking.It had never occurred to me before that somehow this famous Latin saying might apply to me, but in that moment, I totally embodied it as I turned to brace the ravening hordes. The words of my death song rang and sang through me, clear and strong and beautiful. Tears ran down my cheeks. I smiled and readied myself with another deep breath to oxygenate my every cell, and my soul prepared to embrace It All.A blinding flash split the screen of my consciousness into multiple monitors, each of them filled with glaringly different scenes of murder and mayhem, stabbings and slashings. Multiple identities appeared: professional assassin, heroin smuggler, pirate captain, being born over and over again, one of which was myself as a Mayan woman squatting in a field, birthing myself and anointing the field with my placenta, cocaine dealer, a teacher, junkie many times, student, sex trafficker, mother, father brother, sister, hermit, policeman, monk, magician, magus, sage, cook, fire-eater, snake charmer, indigenous people of many tribes, hunter, lawyer, prostitute both male and female, rock star, mortician, soldier in many legions including Rome. All possible human misery was available to me. All human misery was mine. There were so many screens with so much content I could not take it all in except as a montage, a mélange of flavors and colors and tastes and tones, absorbing it all at once, hopefully to sort out and dissect at a later time when and if I were ever granted the luxury of doing so.While I staggered mentally and emotionally, my mind was somehow able to start sorting these multiple lifetimes, living each of them as if each were the one and only, each filled with loves and joys, fear, shame and pain, ups and downs and all arounds. The immensity of the input was potentially so astounding that it could literally have shattered my brain, but I had such strength and joy of heart and soul—and was consoled by the presence and compassion of my personal Virgil—that I was able to simple assimilate all of this incredible input on the run, as it were, never stopping, never faltering. I lived thoroughly fully, though some of my many lives were cut short by violence or the forces of nature taking their toll on my admittedly high-risk lifestyles. Stefan Malecek (2019)Sorry I couldn't paste all of the words, it was too long!You can get Stefan's books online, such as 'Crucible of Shame' you'd like to get in touch with stefanmalecek@gmail.com
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