All Means Must Have An End

I got to thinking about it today, and although it’s been fun keeping this blog, I feel like it’s losing its original purpose: namely, recording and sorting out past life memories and making some sense of the pain of the life I lost in 1915.

The process of making sense of it and coming to terms will be lifelong, but I feel like I’m running out of things to wax about.  New memories haven’t come in a while now, and I’ve moved a lot further on my spiritual path than I had when I first started out in late 2012.

I have decided I will keep this blog going, but only until I have completed a trip to Flanders, France, and England to put these ghosts to rest.  This doesn’t mean I’m not going to write about reincarnation or that I’ll be “better” after visiting these places, but it feels like a natural end point for me: to travel to the place where it all happened before putting an end to the blog where I’ve been asking “What the hell happened to me?” for almost four years.

It will still be a while.  The will is there but the money isn’t.  I think it goes without saying I didn’t win the billion.  Still hoping to make an honest living selling off some antiques I’ve been gathering for the last 20 years or so but there’ll be no easy money for me.

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