I can’t remember a time when I didn’t wonder what life was all about. As a child, I asked endless questions seeking understanding, but I was told to stop questioning and instead accept what authorities said was true, rather than expect a personal experience of truth.
In high school, I read books that I hoped would bring clarity and purpose, but I was directionless and had a challenging time finding what I needed. I didn’t know that Divine guidance was possible or how to ask for it. Yet, my unspoken desire eventually led to the study of philosophy, world religions, and metaphysics. Books by the best minds and greatest spiritual seekers were a gift of immeasurable value. From Plato’s works to those of Zen masters, they pointed the way to a more meaningful, conscious life, and to a Divine Source. That Source was beyond human comprehension, they agreed, but never-the-less intelligible and undeniably manifest as Being. What I came to believe was that my seemingly aimless existence was really the Divine guiding me, perfectly and lovingly, to my greatest good. Being was not frustratingly random or confused; but just, loving, and intentional.
When I discovered Edgar Cayce’s past-life readings, they were life illuminating. I saw that I had been in the same situation many times before, in other lives, seeking spiritual growth and understanding, trying to find the trail. With almost every word, every reading, a part of me responded with a resounding, “Yes! I know this. I have experienced this.”
Cayce gave me the perspective I needed to see that the road I am on today is a continuation of one traveled over many lifetimes. The readings showed that it is not that we have lived on this planet before, but how we have lived and what we have learned that’s important. They revealed how we stumble along making choices that are often misguided due to selfish or egotistical motives. I began to hope that if we all woke up and recognized these destructive patterns, that if we loved and served one another as we are meant to do, then humanity would move to a place of healing and spiritual enlightenment. The readings also reminded me that we are not separate from one another, or from all Being, but part of a whole.
The readings on Atlantis interested me the most, as I tried to comprehend the self-destructive human behavior that is still evident today. One reading of a life in Atlantis seemed strangely familiar. It concerned a woman torn between her family, which was devoted to the Law of One, and the man she loved who followed the Sons of Belial. I knew that I had been connected in that life to the entity being discussed, because I could see more about her story than was shown in the reading; details were clear, as if I remembered them. I began to write about what I saw, hoping that more would be revealed. I especially wanted to understand the conflicts between the people of Atlantis and the destructive uses of advanced technology.
The lessons of Cayce’s Atlantis, lessons of a divided people whose conflicts caused their ruin, eventually expanded into a book of metaphysical fiction that I wrote about Atlantis.
As I continued to read and ponder Cayce’s past-life accounts, looking for inspiration and guidance, seeking answers in a world that doesn’t often make sense, it’s clear that we are even now a people separated from each other and from the All, in struggles that portend disastrous consequences. We, the people, can and must make the choice to change the outcome. In each life, we are given another chance, another choice. Do we choose to live in selfish misery with our egos and possessions? Or do we learn from the past and live in loving service to one another, recognizing that we are all One, and what affects each of us individually affects all of us as a whole? We can choose the path of mutual destruction, as we did in Atlantis. Or, we can choose to be conscious beings, alive in the knowledge that our existence is astounding and purposeful, never to be wasted.
