Ok Cat, your response was enough for me to reread what I posted and come clean on what I wrote about the first life. My apologies. In the first life above, I combined what was possibly two lives (not sure why but this is the first time I have written these down ... ever, so please treat the version above as a first draft). Both lives involve Paris and at this time the boundaries between the two lives are a little blurred, for reasons you'll understand with the following revised version.
I had a past life reading in my early twenties. A number of lives came up but the main theme was about one particular one. The reader saw me standing in a Parisian bank. I had been falsely accused of embezzlement and I felt betrayed. I left my job, my wife, my family and walked away. I kept on walking without the will to live until I ended up living in the sewers, ready to die. A poor woman took pity on me and shared a spoonful of soup. The compassion of that gesture was enough to give me the will to live. I recovered and became a leader of the community in the sewers, a “king rat”.
Around turning 40 in my current life, I had listened to a past life regression audio one evening, not with any real insights. However, the next day got a feeling about having been Jewish in that life around the time of Dreyfus in France (late 1800s). A couple of days past that recall, I was telling this story to a close group of friends and, as I got to the part about the woman with the spoonful of soup, I looked across the room at one of my friends and gasped, “OMG. It was you!” (which was all the more remarkable because she was always talking about seeing herself ending up as a bag lady leftover, I think, from her days in the Paris sewers).
Fast forward 15 years and I was working with another friend of mine (who didn’t know this story) and her guides. At the end of the session, one of her guides turned to me and said “Good to see you again, Trevor.” Of course this surprised me and when I asked for details I got the reply “Let me just say, do you remember Paris?”.
Well yes, I remembered Paris! although the story the guide told me was somewhat different from the one above, hence the inclination to think that they were two different lives (and the confusion between them)
This guide had his last incarnation when I was a French aristocrat around the 1400’s. I had gone drinking in town with the commoners for a lark with some friends. I got mugged and beaten up and left for dead. I was revived by a poor woman (my same compassionate friend as above) who looked after me, despite suffering from complete amnesia. I struggled to regain my memory of who I was but as my past life came back to me, I started to see the injustices around me. I became a social activist in that life. My upper class accent was too strong to give me any street cred so I couldn’t work with the general population. I was a backroom organizer and the guide, in human body, was my go-between.
For that matter, both tie into the "Never again" life in terms of reconciling myself with my role as a community leader.