Recap Insights – My Usher

It was November 2003 and I had completed my first life pass, even to having memories of my first “thoughts” in the hospital room after the delivery. I had come to see some events in new ways, had gained some energy each time I recapped thus felt I understood the process. I was wrong. The powers of recap would soon slap me in the face. Finally after three long years of active recap, spontaneous recap and an usher pulled forth their truth.

The revelation revolved around two women in my life: PW specifically and JA marginally. I will provide a little background to help you understand the experience. J had been my first love when I was 16. At the time I had no idea what love was, thus I had no idea what I felt. There wasn’t much love around my own home, so nowhere could I see this marvelous force modeled. Yet, still I felt it. However, I was frozen in fear partially because I didn’t know what to do, and partially because I felt that I had nothing to do it with anyway. I knew she was seeing another guy, who was a few years older, played in a better hockey league, and had his own car. Thus he was far ahead of me in every competitive situation. I tried my best to win her heart, but she wound up choosing “him.” I gained the mistaken belief that women will choose things over what is in people’s hearts. In time, J and I developed a friendship. I loved her so there was no need to condemn her just for making a choice, even if I felt it was the wrong one.

In May 1990 I was in Olivers, the campus bar at the Carleton University as I was back in Ottawa for the summer. As mentioned in the chapter on intent, this was one of those days when my connection to intent was strong. I felt sure that today was a day that I would meet “a very special woman and I would date her for a long time.” I went to the bar with a buzz of inner knowing that “this woman” would be there. So who did I run into? None other than JA, but even though my heart has my senses on high alert and even though I still loved her, I felt that she was not the woman I was supposed to meet.

An hour or so later I saw her. PW. Every cell in my body told me that this was the girl I had come here to meet. Fear evaporated from my being and was replaced with a place of sureness. I went to talk to her. We talked all night, then went on a date, then two. We began dating. I felt something so special for P, but like with J I had no idea what I was actually feeling. Like most young men I had not been taught to feel, only to drink more and hide away from those feelings.

A voce in my head kept saying, “you are going back to university in September, there will be other girls there.” For some unknown reason I listened to this voice, even though it sounded nothing like the “other voice” that led me to P in the first place. Still I stayed non-committal with her, telling her this should be a summer thing, so as to keep my options available in the fall. What would my friends think if I was dating? I wouldn’t be a man then. P didn’t care about all that. She could feel what she felt, I just wasn’t ready to hear it from her. In September I went back to university and we broke up, but we didn’t really part fully. While I chased other women I realized that I didn’t want to catch any of them. Each time I heard her voice on the phone, or the few times I saw her in person were feelings beyond anything I had experienced. Why was I so unable to acknowledge what I was feeling? What kind of society do we live in where boys are not allowed to have feelings?

She came to visit for the last week of the school year in 1991, and then we would take the train back together to Ottawa. It was the most amazing week to that point in my life, and little did I know, the last week of “normalcy” in my life until 2005. The story I had kept in my mind all these years that we came home, parted, and that was that. That is what my head kept telling me. That summer I would have a giant breakdown with my father, he stole money from me and went to jail, I ran away from my final year in university to start a business that failed miserably. In fact I only went back to university that year to claim my clothes, all my furniture I just left there, in essence threw it away. All this symbolism my mind ignored too, but not my True Mind. P and I kept in contact for a while. I ran off to Australia for a few years, she became a police officer. We lost contact in 1996.

In 2003 my recap session had ended and I felt a sense of pride at actually having accomplished it. For whatever reason I decided to make a journey to 1999 (the year I was supposed to die). I wanted to see what my life would have been like in “that life.” I drifted back until I was in a townhouse in southern Ontario (it felt like Oakville). I felt it was morning and I was dressed for work. I looked around “my” townhouse. In my actual life I have never owned anything. That alone was enough to fill me with a longing, even for a life in which I would already be dead. Two kids ran around the corner, my kids. At that moment I realized that for there to be kids, there had to be a wife and I was curious what she looked like. Around the corner stepped P. Even though I was actually lying down, I felt like I had fallen off a ten-story building. P had been the one. I had never realized it until “that” moment. But the clarity was unmistakable. Spirit had fated her to be my wife, and I turned my back on fate and her. I had been too arrogant, too self-important to see the omens. I wanted to cry but I could not find the tears. I thought back to the day I met her and realized it has a touch of great irony. My first love (J) had been there to introduce me to my wife. Yet this is but a small piece, the usher still had not yet found me.

The next day I was at a computer sending an email to, you guessed it, J- when the spontaneous recap hit me. It was April 1991 again and I was back on that train to Ottawa with P. There was no computer store anymore, no 2003, I was on that train. I remember thinking how amazing the week together had been and that maybe I was making a mistake by not having this woman in my life. as the train stopped and we gathered up our baggage I said, “P, the last week together was so great maybe we should think about dating again this summer.” Her response was, “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” and then she told me how she had no interest in dating me anymore.

My legs buckled, both back in 1991 and in the moment in 2003, it showed the eternity of time. That moment, like any moment, is always happening. I staggered down the train stairs, though I don’t know how because my legs did not really function. My heart, oh yes my heart. It was as if I had suffered a shot gun blast to the chest. I was numb, my world had been shattered, more than I ever imagined. Spirit had fated P to be my wife, but I had pushed her away long enough that she finally decided to follow my pushing. Her sister was waiting for us on the platform. Something happened, something shifted. I had to go on, but to do so, somehow I just eliminated the last 60 seconds from my memory. Sixty vital seconds were erased, and a different scene placed overtop. That quick, that easy. Gone, but never really forgotten. Something deep within kept wanting me to acknowledge and feel that pain, feel that loss. It made my life and relationships since horrible, trying to get me to wake up, to remember what my mind had hidden. It was only the process of recap that waked it up.

I also realized that ever since 1991 I had blamed all the crap in my life on what my Dad had done to me that summer, and don’t get me wrong he was a jerk in his actions, but now I see that the main acting force in my life was that I did not accept my fate and marry P. When I said that it felt like my world had shattered, it did, it had to. The gods had to re-script a new fate for me, the old one was now useless for I had not accepted it. They started doing everything to put my “normal” life into the garbage can in an effort to show me that my life was not something else. But I held onto that old life, held onto it until my fingertips turned blue.

P accepted her new fate far easier than I did. I did not really accept it at all until 2003. She likely felt and grieved properly back in 1991, and that change allowed her to become a police officer, something I am sure would not have been on her life path had she stayed with me.

I looked back now on all of 1991. I remember when I decided not to go back to university for my fourth year and finish my degree, even though it meant not being at 27 Fir St. with four of my best friends in the world. I couldn’t go back to that house, it was the last place “we” were together. It was why I left all of my furniture, especially my bed, for it was the last place “we” had slept together. How could I ever sleep on it again? Of course all of these things were buried, hidden under so many other lies, but recap was bringing them out. How could I have missed all this at the time? How could I have been so numb? Now I understand just how much truth we all bury.

On November 8, 2003 I took a dreaming journey to see P. She was sitting across from me at a table. I immediately apologized and asked her to forgive me for not realizing our fate. I complimented her on moving on with her life so well, to which she said that it had not been easy. At times I felt like crying, other times my heart felt warm just to be with her. I had prayed the night before to talk with her, and I asked if she heard my prayer, to which she said, ” I’m here aren’t I?” She also told me not to be disappointed if she did not contact me in the physical.

She told me that what she had liked most about me was my ability to make her laugh. I asked her about fate, and she told me that our time together had a lot to reveal to me. She reminded me of the need to find more fun in my current life. we went for a walk on a path in the woods. She looked just like I had remembered her from 1990. P turned to me and said, “I may not look like this now.” She finally said that it was time for her to go, and I kissed her. It was the “realest” moment that I have ever had on a journey. For a se cond I even smelled her. I can’t remember that smell now, but in that second it was there. I went to kiss her again when she told me that she was married and had two children (both things would be found as correct a week later). She told me that she was doing fine, her husband was a great guy, so there was nothing to worry about. Her life had turned out fine. I said good bye and watched her walk to the path when she hollered out, “how ya been jellybean? See ya later alligator. Maybe we’ll get a chance in another life?” With that, she walked into the woods and was gone. As she left all I felt was sadness. It was finally ok to grieve my lover, and also wish her well, with love and gratitude.

I woke the next morning feeling energized, but I knew it wasn’t over yet. The journey was healing, but I knew what I had to do. Many “new age” teachers would tell you in a situation like this to write that person a letter and then burn it in a fire to release the feelings. Crap! Thankfully I have had true teachers, and they would want me to release those feelings in person. This was the not-doing to complete the recap. I had to do it for real in the physical world.

It had been seven years since I knew here whereabouts, as a police officer. So I called them, which was a rather fearful thing phoning a police station to try and contact a female officer. I was a potential stalker or looking for revenge. But I had to do it. The receptionist I spoke to said P no longer worked there, and passed my message on to her supervisor. I thought that would be the end of it, but at least when I had gotten off the phone I felt better about trying. I had really tried to find her.

A week later I was in the Calgary airport flying out to do a show in Northern BC, and I had the urge to check my email before getting on the plane. There was an odd email from someone I did not recognize. P was right, as promised she would not contact me in the physical- but her husband did. The message had got from the police force to him, and he emailed me to pass on his wife’s number. The trust he showed in her and me made me instantly like this man.

November 19 was call day. I had no idea what I was going to say. I was more nervous than at any time in my life. how would she handle my stories of journeys, recap, spirits and seeing events that never happened? Would she think that I was trying to start a relationship with her again? It was a moment of great advancement on the warrior’s path. The true path is not all fun and games, it will take us to the depth of all that we are trying to hide. I know that no matter what PW thought, I had to call her and release the unknown burden I had been carrying for the last thirteen years.

I won’t go into any detail of that phone call, that is one of those things meant to stay with her and me. Yet even so, I remember very little of the conversation, but I did what I had needed to do. It was one of the hardest experiences to hear her voice (the tone, pauses, inflections were all as I had remembered). The whole time my legs were shaking, almost as bad as on the train. When I had hung up the phone with her “don’t worry about it, it was a long time ago, we were young,” I realized that she did not fully understand what had transpired in 1991. At least not now, maybe in ten years she might, and I may get a call from her then. I felt a tremendous sense of relief and heat in my body. In an hour or so, all I felt was exhaustion. Yet I did it. I’m not sure how many other men would have done something like that. I was free, by finally honouring and wishing well a woman I had loved from the depth of my being, from the depth of my inner silence.

I was staying at my friend B’s, but had trouble sleeping that night. No surprise. I thought it was due to the 100 rock sweat lodge I had been part of the day before, a sweat that had pulled a lot out. All night my stomach was in pain, like I had food poisoning. I hadn’t slept at all and in the morning the pain was now in my kidneys. With B “too busy” to help me, which was odd him being such a caring person, I used the last of my money to take a cab to a healer to work on me. She claimed I was not having a physical problem, but that I had suffered several kundalini releases. So much was happening, my system was cleansing profusely. Afterward I felt better, a bit light-headed, but decided to walk back to B’s. I got more dizzy as I walked, sadness began pouring out. I made to a hotel on 8th avenue, and I went inside to sit on a bench. I had gone in to be close to a phone in case I had to call an ambulance.

I was short of breath and my left arm was tingling. I had read about this, a heart attack. I was having a heart attack…at 34 years old! I kept breathing and after 15-20 minutes I felt much better. I made it back to B’s when I plopped down on his bed, he was not yet home. I couldn’t move, even breathing was a chore. I saw a black ball rolling at me, just like Theun mares had explained death (tumbler) looked like. I had paid little attention while I had been reading feeling it was a metaphor. Yet I was being slammed to death by a metaphor. It is interesting what you think about when you believe you are about to die. My number one thought was that the most important people in my life who I would want told of my death I contact by email, but no one knew my hotmail password so not one would get a message to them.

Somewhere in the midst of all these thoughts, I dozed off. An hour later B arrived and I woke up. I realized I was not going to die, the worst was over, but I felt horrible. I had B take me to my friend D’s where the environment would be more healing. I slept for two straight days. Did I really have a heart attack? I’m not sure. I thought of it later as a symbolic heart attack. My heart broke on that train in 1991, but I had stuffed it down never feeling it. My experience that day was my body’s reaction to the stored pain that I had blocked for so long.

With that I end this section on recap. I wrote all this to prepare you for where recap in time can lead you, the truth and the ability to release the past, but to get to it you are going to have to see everything you don’t want to see, and as you could read- that is not necessarily fun.

NOTE: Names initialed to protect the people involved. If they choose in time to let their full names be revealed, I will edit the text for that.