My trip to Arizona turned out to be much more than a magnificent sight-seeing tour. This taught me yet another lesson.
I am in the habit of saying that I can see everyones past lives right back to their first one - I am wrong, as you will see.
We were about half an hour from the Grand Canyon and I was in the front seat of my friends (Cyndi) tour bus,
enjoying the climb away from the desert into forested lands. Suddenly I found myself sitting on a horse,
looking around the countryside and thinking how beautiful it all was. Then I noticed my squaw also astride a horse,
and how beautiful she was too. However, the regression to one of my past lives was quickly over.
I was back in the bus, in floods of tears, with one thought going through my mind, ‘Oh, I have come home’.

Thus it was that this event led to the rapid demolition of one of my most closely held assumptions, if some of
my past lives remain ‘hidden’ until something triggers its revelation how can I, any longer, claim to see
all of other peoples past lives. And to ram the point home I noticed that there were two further lifetimes
spent as a Native American prior to the one I had just briefly experienced.

But it doesn’t end there and those of a fragile nature might like to avert their eyes at this point, it all gets a little gory.
Towards the end of my holiday we set off for a Hopi indian reservation. There are three villages on top
of a flat top mountain (mesa) which had grown, over the centuries, to become one. Curiously and again, we were
half an hour from our destination when I became, what can only be described as, seriously upset, in a state of some
agitation I asked Don to stop the bus whereupon I leapt out swiftly followed by Cyndi who offered much in the way of comfort.
But not before I was transported back two hundred years to a small canyon occupied by three teepees. I was
immediately aware that I was a seven-year old Native American boy, playing with my siblings and friends.

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