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Excerpt From "Soul Of Synchronicity"

by Cindy K Dhillon

Memories of a past life: The past life journey

Once, in conversation with him about one of my art projects

I had completed a few years back, I revealed a painting I had

produced in 1994 whilst studying at The London Art College.

A painting produced with colour graphic pencils, showing

how a scene from a time long ago was brought to life in a

sketch, the eye follows every detail to the tune of each tone

and colour bringing with it feelings of emotions and haste, a

desperate and final will for survival pushing the human spirit so

far, holding its last breath to see victory, that ebbs away leaving

defeat and death. As I described the details of the war scene

and the atmosphere within the painting, each word produced

the same painting in his mind. There was silence as he paused.

In those few seconds he had picked up an emotion in my

voice; it was connected to the painting in some way. Then he

asked if I have lived before during that life time once before.

I paused again for a few seconds before I answered. I could

see the trail of thoughts in my mind trying to link together

to fi nd a connection with the scene in the sketch that I once

drew many years ago just out of interest. A thought to pass the

time to make such a painting, a project or a theme that was

away from my normal art work, just something different to try.

Artists experiment all the time with different styles of paintings

and mediums. It felt that the way I described the details in the

painting was as if I had actually stood at that very scene, as if

the colour pencils and sketch pad worked together and a scene

unfolded before me; in my conscious mind I knew I had been

there before, it wasn’t impossible.

Then ‘G’ suggested if I had ever considered taking a look into

my past life, to go back in time, to see how all this links up.

Like some people who are curious about their past lives, there

is always some kind of fear of what they might discover. It is

more than likely, in some cases, that what we did or who we

were in our past lives was not much different to the life we live

today. This has always been an interesting subject and I did

want to find out more.

The more I thought about it the more it became clear that I

had an emotional connection with this panting and for days I

couldn’t stop thinking about it. I don’t know how that emotion

got there, and I didn’t really know much about the historical

events of the 19th century, let alone any other part of the world

– all I knew was what I had watched in the Western movies

and that there were a lot of gun fights.

The sketch was of a battle scene in the Wild West against the

indigenous people of America known as the Native Americans.

I was more interested in the way they lived, their belief in the

Great Spirit, the white buffalo. The way they dressed at that

time and particularly their clothing which was so different, so

simple, made creatively by hand. After our conversation I began

to think about seeing someone about a past life regression, the

more I thought about it the more I wanted to investigate. I was


It was the winter of 2004 I was on a short break to Inverness,

Scotland. It was a small retreat set in the middle of nowhere,

surrounded by lakes and snow-topped mountains. Travellers

came from miles around just to ski on those maintains and

enjoy the views as they sat in the wood cabin-styled cafe. It is a

beautiful place; many trees made the wilderness look wild and

untouched by man, and the landscape could be seen for miles

as it carried the fresh mountain breeze.

Once at the retreat, I unpacked my bags and settled in, not

knowing what to expect. It just so happened hypnosis for self-development

and past life regression was something I could

request if I wanted to utilise that option during the retreat.

After a weeklong retreat there was much to cover, it was only

towards the end that I finally decided to take up the past life

regression. As I closed my eyes and went into a deep relaxation

brought about by each breath, I was guided into a past life

that was so different from today’s life. I found myself walking

through a time and a path that was free from man’s mutilation

of the lands since the beginning of time. I began to recall those

memories that had remained in suspended consciousness for

years until this moment.

It was like watching an old movie from another time unfolding

before me; every vision, senses and emotion felt so real, I

could almost believe I was there yesterday. Once the past life

regression was over I sat in a quiet place to gather my thoughts,

taking all in everything I had just experienced.

I began writing everything down in a personal journal, recalling

as much detail as I could. Then I began sketching an image of

what I may have looked like, I trusted my intuition to guide

me throughout the time it took me to produce such a drawing

– an image of someone from the past, a blueprint of a soul that

once existed in 1876.

…The year is 1876, it is winter. I lived as a Sioux Indian in North

Dakota. My home was a tepee; there was a woman and a child sitting


I looked outside, the land was dry and stony, the grass was dull and

worn from the cold. I sensed there was a lake nearby. I noticed a small

tribe of people by the lake; it was a very quiet and peaceful place.

I was a young man; my hair was long and black. The clothes on my

back were buffalo hide, so were the shoes wrapped around my feet, with

long strands of leather made into laces holding them together.

As a young boy I lived in the same tepee, on the same land, back then

the grass was greener and rich. I could see the mountains and trees in

the distance.

Inside the tepee I saw my father, he looked like a chief, he could be a

medicine man, he was very brown, very thin and old. He wore a buffalo

head piece, his eyes had aged, they were very tired but they bore years

of knowledge and wisdom, passed down from his ancestors.

My mother was extremely young, her face was round, and her complexion

fair. Behind her was a child; at fi rst I thought this child was a girl,

but then saw it was a boy, my younger brother. He was always hiding

behind her.

As a young man I spent much of my time in talks with the elders and

gathering of groups like in a pow-wow.

I spent many happy moments with my family, the woman and child

in the tepee earlier, my son and all my tribal friends, cousins and


The time came when I had to face my fate, we suddenly found ourselves

in an unplanned battle. It happened so fast, I could see a heavy cloud

of dust surrounding all the warriors, I could hear chanting, shouting

and guns firing.

I was feeling confused, knowing that there was nowhere to turn, I

suddenly felt a sharp pain in my chest. I looked down and saw that I

was hit, it was an arrow, I fell from my horse, my lifeless body lay on the

ground. I died by an arrow and not the bullets from Custer’s men.

Battle of Little Bighorn, June 25th 1876

Cindy K Dhillon is a medical lab technician based in London, UK. Though a scientifically minded individual by trade, she believes that science can only explain a small proportion of life’s mysteries. Following an epiphany in her younger life Cindy found enlightenment, and by studying and learning from other leading spiritual minds she has enriched her understand of both the physical and non-physical world. Through her spiritual awakenings Dhillon has come to know many of the hidden worlds that we can all access by entering into a state of elevated consciousness.

Soul of Synchronicity by Cindy K. Dhillon (published by Balboa Press 2011, RRP $13.95) is available online from retailers including Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com and can be ordered from all good book stores. For more information go to www.soulofsynchronicity.com

Perfect Bound Soft cover (B/W), 180 pages, size 5.5x8.5, ISBN: 978-1-45253-694-1

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