June 4


The TooMuch woman travels in time, episode 6

By IsayaBelle

June 4, 2021

energy, memories, past lives, Titanic

Lessons about the past, beliefs and fan girl attitudes

Picture this.
Belfast, October 2019.
I am 52 years old.

I am on the deck of the Titanic, DiCaprio style.
Literally (or at least where the Titanic was last docked on land)
Ever since I can remember, I have been obsessed with the Titanic.
The boat, not the movie.
And yes, that means I'm old, because I knew about the boat long before the movie ever existed.
I must have been 8, I wasn't a very good reader yet...
My parents had a huge collection of books, shelves and shelves of paperbacks in every house we lived in (and there were many but this is yet another story). Every time, my father would build a library, a room for the books to live in.
I had my own shelves with my own books of course, since books were such a sacred object in our family (my father literally believed that literature had saved his life when he spent 2 years in hospital at age 15). So yes I had my own books, full of stories and images and other worlds I could visit any time I felt lonely or sad, being an only child in the world of very self-centered adults.
But the library, my parents’ library, contained secret and almost forbidden treasures and I would sneak peek at it every chance I got.
One book in particular was always calling me. A very shabby, dusty, cheap edition of Walter Lord’s book narrating the events that happened on that fateful April night of 1912.
The cover of the book, a rather badly painted scene of the actual sinking, was attracting me like a magnet, and I would go and look at it at least once a month…
I never read the book back then.
I just gazed at the other cover and made up the stories and imagined what it could be about.
I have a very vivid imagination.
Or do I ?
Fast forward 20 years.
I'm a book shopkeeper (yes that would make sense, wouldn’t it?) and happy owner of my own bookstore.
Every month, the various publishers' representatives come and present the new books to be released soon.
At the end of 1997, all of them from literally all the French publishers, have books about the Titanic. It so happens THE movie is about to be released, and James Cameron, who directed the movie has led an expedition beforehand to recover the actual sunk ship.
And they did. They found the wreck… And brought back stuff from the Titanic they found at the bottom of the ocean.
The whole world is suddenly obsessed…
It brings back the memory of that book cover for me.
And I blissfully sink back into my own fascination.
I read all the books.
Watch all the documentaries.
Of course I go and see THE movie, as soon as it is released in France ( January 1998)
And I enjoy all that so much…
To the point of real obsession.
I collect memorabilia, visit the exhibition of the objects reclaimed from the sea ( I actually had to travel 4 hours in a huge snowstorm to do so, but that didn't stop me)
And just to be precise…
It has nothing to do with Kate and Leo..
Or maybe just a tad…
But it's way more profound than that.
I do not even understanding my fascination.
I do try it to justify it by arguing that the event was the last hurrah of the Industrial Revolution, the first blow to a society that believed that Science and Industry could defy nature and win, that I was curious about so many amazing facts around the catastrophe, that many created a precedent on how we deal with things nowadays … The first ever SOS, the lesson about the number of lifeboats and life vests that could have been/ should now be included on any boat, etc…
But truthfully I did not know.
I indulged myself and voilà.
Fast forward another 20 years.
And here I am.
Belfast, October 2019.
About to visit the Titanic Belfast Museum.
A year before that, still indulging my obsession, I went to Cobh, in Ireland to visit the Titanic Experience, Cobh being the last port the Titanic visited before its dramatic journey across the Atlantic Ocean.
Loads of emotions and feelings, but still I do not understand my attraction for all things Titanic.
Let me specify that, ever since the beginning, all this interest has been layered with emotion. I cried so hard at every book, every movie… The 1999 exhibition had me in tears again, and don't get me started about the views of the actual ship in THE movie or the documentaries.
Belfast, 2019.
By then I believe I know merely everything there is to know about the darn boat, the journey, the iceberg, the Unsinkable Molly Brown, the imbecility of poor Thomas Andrews, architect of the boat, the behaviors of all officers and notable passengers, and so forth…
Still I have booked myself the VIP treatment in Belfast.
Premium ticket that includes the discovery tour, the audio guide, the photo and afternoon tea in the restaurant that reproduces the actual first-class dining room of the ship.
I will end up spending a whole day there.
Even my beloved mentor, inviting me for tea with a friend, could not pull me out of there.
I was immersed (lol!) in the presentations and stories, the building of the ship, the photos, the reconstitution of the cabins and dining rooms, the reenactment videos, etc …
I, as I said earlier, also stood at the front end of the ship's last land placement, raised my arms and shouted “I'm the queen of the world”.
Because that's what you do.
All the while fully enjoying myself.
And completely oblivious to the reasons why I was fascinated, obsessed even.
And then…
A passengers’ list.
With photographs. Even 3rd class passengers often had photographs, since they were emigrating to the US and leaving a souvenir behind for the family not travelling.
The umpteenth one I’d looked at over the years…
Suddenly I saw me.
There I was. There she was.
She was 8 years old when she drowned.
She was no one.
Just a blonde chubby eight-year old little Swedish girl, third class passenger with all her family (seven or eight brothers and sisters and the parents, if I remember).
All perished.
She was me. I was her.
That now explained everything.
The fascination. The obsession. The emotional attachment ever since I was eight year-old myself.

Ok. So I don’t believe in past lives.
Or at least I didn't.
But this.
This was a game-changer in my life.
A huge shift in my spiritual journey and awakening.
I knew, I know deep in my heart and in my belly, I was on that ship and I drowned, on that fateful night of 1912.
I remember now.

I gave myself permission that day to allow for my beliefs to change and to acknowledge facts that I did not want (feared ?) to allow before.
I gave myself permission to fully enter the weirdo world of past lives, Spirit World and the like.
I gave myself permission to be the full-on, TooMuch, Witchy, Magick Connected Woman Goddess I am.
Today I give myself permission to share that with you, with the world.
I was on the Titanic.
I remember.
As a matter of fact, I remember so much more now, so many more lives and experiences..
Do you ?
Do you feel there is much more “to it” than visible ?
Do you desire to find out?
Are you ok to change your beliefs ?
Whether about past lives or anything else ...
Are you ok to face the fear of change and enter a whole new world, a whole new life ?

If you feel this is your path, that you need help to let go of your past and fully step into your present, and into Radical Responsibility towards yourself, Absolute Self-Love and stop betraying yourself every chance you get, if you're ready to invest in yourself … I’ve got several spots for 1:1 coaching in June !

Let's connect in a free Dare to Shine discovery call and see if we could work together! (this is NOT a sales call, and there are NO strings attached!)

I would be so happy to hear from you about all that. Thank you in advance for your comment.
So much for today ...
See you soon, for my next online adventures!
Until then I send you love, light and gratitude.
  • {"email":"Email address invalid","url":"Website address invalid","required":"Required field missing"}

    Join my Facebook group

    Living a Goddess Life