Shining Through

So...the end of the world didn’t come on December 21, 2012 as so many thought it would. However, I’m pretty sure that the “physical or spiritual transformation” that others believed would happen has started. I think it is both physical and spiritual; the past is finally catching up to us, one person at a time. The event that started my investigation into the matter involved my 9 year-old son, Sam.

I was working out using the weight set in our basement playroom, listening to Black Sabbath like I usually did. Sam would often hang out with me while I lifted, playing with his Legos on the floor. He knows We Sold Our Soul for Rock ‘n’ Roll backwards and forwards and loves every song. Or, at least he used to.

War Pigs came on, that slow, distorted guitar filling the low-ceilinged room. Sam seemed oblivious and continued building his latest creation, a heliport for the chopper he had cobbled together. Then the air raid siren started up in the song and all hell broke loose. Sam dropped his Legos, clamped his hands over his ears, squeezed his eyes shut, and began rocking back and forth. A look of pure terror distorted his handsome little face.


The fear in his voice turned my stomach; no father wants to hear his child scream like that. I ran over to the stereo and killed the power, then scooped Sam up and held him tightly to my chest. He wrapped his arms around my neck and began to sob, his face buried in my sweaty t-shirt. Between muffled breaths it sounded as if he were mumbling “want my mom, want my mom” over and over. Turns out it was “no more bombs, no more bombs”.


A South African man, born and raised in nearby Cape Town, was surfing the South West Coast when he wiped out, hitting his head on his board. Luckily, his friends saw that he was unconscious and got him safely to shore. When he awoke, the man was shaken up but spoke fluent Russian.

Blind from birth to poor, uneducated parents, a young Chinese girl from the rural province of Qinghai never learned to read braille; there was no one to teach her and no books for a hundred miles or more. No electricity for television or radio, either. Despite all of this, she was able to describe, in precise detail, the layout of Washington, D.C. and its numerous historic buildings and landmarks to a Chinese-American Peace Corps volunteer visiting her village.

A nursing home in Birmingham, England is home to a large number of former factory workers from the Sutton Coldfield area. Many of its residents were forced to leave school at a young age and go to work to help support their families. Needless to say, music lessons were not a part of childhood there. So how could an 87 year-old man suffering from dementia, with no prior experience, wheel over to a piano brought in for a party and flawlessly play a piece from Gaspard de la nuit by Maurice Ravel?


Those are just three of the countless stories I have discovered since I began researching this post-12/21/12 phenomenon (plus the one I witnessed first hand, of course). My theory thus far is that there has been a shift in our universe and, somehow, our past lives are starting to “shine through” for lack of a better term. The fabric separating the journey of our soul through its lifetimes here on Earth from the present has worn thin, my friends, and there is no mending it.

What will be the impact when Atilla, Stalin, and Hitler rear their ugly heads? Better yet, what if it happens to be you?