Tuesday, 13 December 2016

The incarnation of Ned Kelly, part 1

This is the story of me identifying as the reincarnation of Edward "Ned" Kelly, a bushranger born in Australia. As always, one must make sure isn't making things up about 'national hero' incarnations and it's been quite a ride proving myself I'm not misleading myself, I tell you. On the other hand, even people who were famous or became famous after death have always been human-- nothing less or nothing more, that's something I really want people to remember in our glamour-loving society... I would actually love not having to explain this whole "fame is an illusion thing, yadayada", I wish it was an evident fact.
First, if you want to learn more on the historical background, check this out: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ned_Kelly

I'm dreaming about writing a book on past lives inspired by these experiences. I've learned a lot and I know in my heart there will be more. I'm still waiting for the day I'm brave enough to ask from my friends and family members if it's okay to publish their photos and the meaningful things on their backgrounds to help telling my story which also is their story on the other hand (I have no idea what they could think about this reincarnation story). From my point of view they're an important part of telling the story as they kind of complete the whole puzzle, that's how I feel about the information. I know I can't tell here about their lives (unless having a permission). I've told about this to pretty much all my close friends as they are by coincidence open-minded people and who more or less (--more) accept the existence of what people usually call paranormal. But telling this to my other very much significant relatives? Help.

About thirteen months ago I was researching my past life situated around the 50's as an English woman (I was born maybe in 30's or 40's). I yearned to learn more about that life as it has affected me a lot, I think, but not as much as I think my other future discovery would. Around those times I didn't meditate too much, but I spontaneously thought of giving it a try, finding out more about that past life in England. I very quickly was given in the meditation a year '1856' and two foreign words 'Jacques depot'. I wrote them down on a piece of paper after realizing I didn't understand, how these two things were related to anything I had been searching for.

In two weeks after this, there occurred a dream. I was in a toy store, trying to find some toy bullets for my toy gun. I got slightly disappointed finding out there are no toy bullets that could fit my gun (all of this could happen to me in real life as I have hobbies that include also fake weapons, that I sometimes buy from toy stores). Suddenly I recalled I own an unopened package that included a gun and bullets (that were really big to be toy bullets). The bullets were fake, but I soon found myself fascinated by all those bits that really showed the gun was an old one and actually real (although it took some time for me to figure that out). I turned right there were I was standing 180 degrees and the package with the gun and bullets somehow appears in front of me. It opens by itself, only from my thought of opening it. The package and the gun leak dry dirt from every little hole and corner. Soon the toy package of the revolver gun disappears and I find myself holding this revolver while it's still leaking the dirt as if it had been buried somewhere (for a long time). The same instance I notice my hands and left arm were dirty from that soil. The rest of the dream goes as follows: I find my way to the cashier and I argue with a man about something. He thinks I've been doing something criminal in this store and the whole situation feels embarrassing while AT THE SAME TIME I find myself in a bank in the 1800's in a similar situation, doing a robbery and there is a man in a black suit, old modeled eye-glasses and dark fine mustache. Before this experience I never knew that dreaming in two layers happening at the same time was even possible. I wake up.

I felt instantly that my dream was affected by spirit. I don't understand at all what I had been going through. At that point I thought that perhaps a spirit was trying to connect with me and telling his story. So I once again tried meditating as I rarely did at that time. I was given words: "Murder never expires" and right after that saw a man like from a cowboy film. What I got was that he was most possibly a criminal, that was the basic feel to it all. He had a dark beard and a light colored hat that created a shadow on his face that prevented me from seeing his features. The surroundings looked so hot and dry that it made me think of Mexico or another place in South America. There was also something about his weakly visible facial features that made me think again about Mexico. That moment I was somewhat scared and confused, because of the apparent murder theme. I thought all the possibilities through, but I didn't get the hang of it. So I decided that I'll just leave the dream be and that if it's important, it will come to me later in life.

Only a few days later the same week I go to meet my old high school friends. We watch a movie together and after it do something we wouldn't usually do: Leave the tv channel open while we talk about girl stuff and politics. The channel represents multiple documentaries in a row that are situated in Australia. One of them tells the story of the bushranger Ned Kelly. My thoughts at that point were these: "Ahh, I remember this man as a topic from high school. We had a chapter in our English books about him and that time I wrote that text about him in my personal blog symbolizing my life in a way." That was true, it had been about four years or more since I had last thought about this man and his history which was also my first one. We kept talking and me watching the documentary here and there. I noted that one of the guns shown actually looked very much like the revolver in my dream. I didn't feel any different.

When I go home, I have the urge to find out what "1856 Jacques depot" meant in my meditation state from two weeks earlier. I once again try to research the meaning from the internet. I go to Wikipedia, just as I had probably done two weeks ago and scroll through things that had happened in 1856. '1856' bushranger Ned Kelly's possible year of birth it said (usually they think it's more probable it's 1854 or 1855). I open the article and after a few seconds I find my self shaking and shivering, my muscles stiffened. I just KNEW I was him. I had stared at the picture of his armor in a museum and I could feel my mind being sucked into the picture or something hitting my consciousness slightly physically (I feel this mental suction when I do past life readings for other people live)... All I remember from that night is more shaking, muscles stiffening and thoughts of "oh my god, I killed people" and washing the dishes in a state that could resemble a shock.

All of this was followed by a huge amount of my own skepticism, feeling of guilt and still knowing in my heart that it had to be true, somehow wanting it to be true as it would've explained many things occurring in my life. 

Soon, I rediscovered my old blog text. It was a long one, myself ranting in a very deep point of depression, desperate about my situation in life and being bullied at home and in school. I remember myself very angry and crying while writing it. In the end I had attached an old drawing of Ned wearing his famous armor in the Glenrowan incident and these words symbolizing my desperation in life as I wasn't sure how long I was able to take all those bad things anymore: "I've been my own hero for a long time. I have a self-made tinarmour and I've had various bullets in my chest, legs and arms. I'm slowly bleeding to death. I don't think I can be Ned Kelly. I think the hero is going to die."

I started to think about my life from many aspects after accepting the possibility I used to be Ned. This would explain my irrational fear of the police as I had still the feeling I could be arrested any time for my criminal actions, which of course I had done none in this life. This feeling had secretly been burdening with me since my childhood. I don't know if my family ever noticed such, but my girlfriend before all this happened did. Also, it lifted some of the burden on my experience of my gender. I've had times since my teens when I've thought myself as more male than female, but usually androgynous. As a child I was more of a tomboy anyway.

I had been also keen on the name Edward and used it for years online in different forms. 'Sir Edward', 'Eddie', '-Ed', 'PumpkiN-Ed' etc. were my nicknames, all these before a couple of years before I was ever introduced briefly to history on Ned Kelly. Could this be it, I thought? What I believe these days is that I have been called Edward in at least two lives serving my time on Earth.

There was something else too. When I was young, about eight years old, I used to held secret wrestling tournaments with the other kids on our backyard. My father had always been against violence and guns very strictly, so for me it was no question to use actually violence that would hurt badly, so especially using fists against anyone was strictly prohibited. At that time I wanted to be "Pippi Longstocking" from children's story books, the strongest girl on Earth. I by the way was usually the one who won, if not always.

When I was thirteen, I decided I wanted to start boxing, perhaps kick boxing. I really wanted my mother to buy me a sack and gloves for a long time, even that I had noticed my joints felt as if they could be actually easily damaged, even broken after a couple of hits. As my mother didn't agree with my wishes, so the aspiration to start boxing (and become good in it) was left behind and never thought about it again, after I found other hobbies. Still I used the nickname inspired by a movie I hadn't yet seen "million dollar girl" online for a while. Ned was known for bare-knuckle boxing and once even the unofficial champion of his district.

I did read a very small amount of details of Ned's life (there exists a lot of it) from that Wikipedia article and elsewhere in the internet, because I really wanted to prove myself I wasn't imagining things. One of the things I did read back then was that his famous last words have been suspected to be "Such is life". I recalled something from my childhood. I was about seven or eight years old, when my father received a call and asked me to go outside with my little sisters. I was blowing some soap bubbles when soon my father came out and sat on the steps crying in a very heartbreaking manner. He told me that my his father, my grandfather had died. My father's reaction did sadden and shock me inside, but for some reason I remained calm. I sat beside him, gave him a hug and said: "Sellaista se elämä on" meaning "Such is life". My father still reminds me of this from time to time as he thought it was more or less funny from a young girl like that.

I still doubted myself. It wasn't enough proof for me to really let myself believe all that even if I tried so.

Soon I found myself observing some of the photos of the Kelly family members. That's when I first had the feeling one of Ned's brothers Jim Kelly was someone I know very closely in this life: My father. Another picture made me think of something similar: young Kate Kelly reminded me of one of my close relatives.

That's when I held a session using pendulum to connect the names and the photos with my best friend. We intuitively chose names of my relatives and friends in this life. We had quite amazing results and I found I had erred with the identification of Kate as the pendulum after many times of asking didn't change it's answer. Ned's sister Kate is these days the person I call my mother. We found out that each of Ned's closest relatives are very much near to each other in this life living in my family and my uncle's family. I would tell some crazy and sometimes funny details of all the people I found incarnated nearby me, but I haven't asked for the permission to share their intriguing stories or pictures just yet online. And on the other hand there remains essential family members I haven't told anything about this.

When I compared the pictures side by side with my friend, we were stunned. There were similarities that I just couldn't deny as they occurred on so many of these people. I believe there must be people who would want to disagree, but personally I cannot. As it has to be accepted that our most recent race and gender do redefine many of our physical characteristics, I still find similarities between these pictures. All my family and relatives related to this past time and place are Finnish as the Kelly family was of Irish decent and who knows where the other people I was able to recognize who weren't part of the Kelly family were from. Later I've realized the reason some of my relatives in this life had lived many years in Australia and my family members visited there for other reasons is our mutual past life... I had also short thoughts of visiting this country many times earlier, but there has always been reasons that prevented me from really wanting it in the end 1) the serious heat 2) deadly animals and insects. 

Even after this, more proof came by my side. I had almost forgot about the results I had during the first meditation I mentioned. "1856 Jacques depot". At this point I had long confessed to myself that one of the least probable years of birth-- 1856, where this all started didn't alone prove myself anything. Maybe I had just mislead myself on the wrong path? I suddenly recalled something important. All along I had thought that "Jacques depot" was connected with the past life I had tried to meditate on. I had tried to find it's meaning again online, but all I found out was a café in Australia and nothing else on any other part of the globe. In AUSTRALIA. I googled the address and placed it on a map. Then I tried finding Ned's birth place. As it wasn't known I found the address of Ned's childhood home. I was perfectly struck by it again. The café was placed on the coast and the Kelly's used to live 60 kilometers straight to north from that point up.

The conclusion I've come to about this meditation is that I was given by the spirit world my past life coordinates.

Later on, I've seen two other symbolic dreams clearly related with Ned. In the latter I dug the grave open and I found his body under a white linen cloth. Bodies under white cloth have been in my dreams the symbol of people who have really died in this world. Ned's body was partially blackened from the skin. I remember myself staring his hands, "my hands". But what I couldn't do was revealing his face under the cloth. What I felt there was fear, because somehow I was afraid his face was seriously damaged to something horrible. So I covered the body and refilled the grave. When I was ready, I suddenly changed my mind. I wanted to be brave and see the face. I woke up while I started to dig the grave open again and was committed to "face" my fears.

After this dream actually, I haven't been scared of reading more history on Ned's life. After all, my intention wasn't quite to scientifically prove all the skeptics in the world I was Ned Kelly, the bloke many people in Australia wants to argue about (if this could end some stupid battles and waste of plastic and stuff on his toy figures, then it could be great though, or maybe.. I don't know... allow me to touch something 'he' owned). Was he a cold blooded selfish murderer? Well guess what, I want to know the truth as well. Even though I have my doubts, I have decided I don't want my insecurity to control me on this. I feel what I feel in my heart and I've seen all these things I just told. I haven't agreed to understand before recently that yes, Ned's life must be a significant one for me in this life as many of my childhood problems seem to have been born in Australia more than 135 years ago and these people haven't gone anywhere.

So this was my story, in a brief form, even though I know it's a long one. I'm not going to lie that after two years of (re)discovering all these things I'm still excited, scared and awaiting for this adventure of self-discovery to continue.

People I've managed to recognize ever since the incarnation came into light for me (reincarnated in close doings with me): 

Ellen Kelly (Ned's mother)
John "Red" Kelly (Ned's father)
Dan Kelly (Ned's brother and gang member)
Jim Kelly (Ned's brother)
Kate Kelly (Ned's sister)
Grace Kelly (Ned's sister)
Margaret Skillion (Ned's sister)
Anne Gunn (Ned's sister)
Joe Byrne (Ned's important friend and an gang member)
Tom Lloyd (Ned's cousin, a dear friend and an important supporter of the gang)
Aaron Sherritt (uncertain) (Ned's gang member)
Isaiah "Wild" Wright (Ned's gang's supporter and a good friend)
Constable Lonigan (Constable who Ned shot)
Constable Kennedy (Constable who Ned shot)
Constable Fitzpatrick (Constable who caused some serious trouble to the Kelly family)
Ettie Hart (uncertain) (Ned's gang member's sister)

Richard Shelton (the boy who Ned saved from drowning)

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