hree weeks passed before we met again. My brief illness and her vacation had caused the delay. Catherine continued to prosper during this period, but when we began the session, she seemed anxious. She announced that she was doing so well and feeling so much better that she did not feel hypnosis could help her any more than it already had. She was right, of course. Under ordinary circumstances, we might have begun terminating therapy weeks ago. We had continued in part because of my interest in the messages from the Masters and because some minor problems still persisted in Catherine's present-day life. Catherine was nearly cured, and the lifetimes were repeating. But what if the Masters had more to tell me? How could we communicate without Catherine? I knew she would continue our sessions if I insisted. But I did not feel right

about insisting. With some sadness, I agreed with her. We chatted about the events of the past three weeks, but my heart was not in it.

Five months drifted by. Catherine maintained her clinical improvement. Her fears and anxieties were minimal. The quality of her life and her relationships was dramatically uplifted. She was dating other men now, although Stuart was still in the picture. For the first time since she was a young child, she felt some joy and real happiness in her life. Occasionally, we would pass each other in the hallway or in the cafeteria line, but we had no formal doctor-patient contact.

Winter passed and spring began. Catherine scheduled an appointment in the office. She had been having a recurring dream about a religious sacrifice of some sort that involved snakes in a pit. People, including herself, were being forced into the pit. She was in the pit, trying to climb out by digging her hands into the sandy walls. The snakes were just below her. At this point in the dream she would awaken, her heart pounding wildly.

Despite the long hiatus, she fell quickly into a deep hypnotic state.

Not surprisingly, she was instantly back in an ancient lifetime.

"It is very hot where I am," she began. "I see two black men standing near stone walls that are cold and damp. They have headpieces on. There is a rope around their right ankles. The rope is braided with beads and tassels coming off it. They are making a storage house out of stone and clay, putting wheat in it, some type of crushed grain. The grain is brought in a cart with iron wheels. Woven mats are on the cart or part of it. I see water, very blue. Someone in charge is giving the orders to the others. There are three steps down into the granary. There is a statue of a god on the outside. He has the head of an animal, a bird, and the body of a man. He is a god of the seasons. The walls are sealed with some sort of tar to prevent air from coming in and to keep the grain fresh. My face is itching.... I see blue beads in my hair. There are bugs or flies around, making my face and hands itch. I put something sticky on my face to keep them away... it smells terrible, the sap from some tree.

"I have braids in my hair and beads in the braids, with gold strings.

My hair is dark black. I am part of the royal house-hold. I am there because of some feast. I have come to watch an

anointing of priests... a festivity to the gods for the coming harvest. There are only animal sacrifices, no humans. Blood from the sacrificed animals runs from a white stand into a basin... it runs into the mouth of a serpent. The men wear small gold hats. Everyone is dark-skinned. We have slaves from other lands, from across the sea...."

She fell silent, and we were waiting, as if the months had never passed. She seemed to become vigilant, listening to something. "All is so fast and complicated... what they are telling me... about change and growth and different planes. There is a plane of awareness and a plane of transition. We come from one life, and, if the lessons are completed, we move on to another dimension, another life. We must understand fully. If we do not, we are not allowed to pass on... we must repeat because we do not learn. We must experience from all sides. We must know the side of wanting, but also to give.... There is so much to know, so many spirits involved. That is why we are here. The Masters... are just one on this plane."

Catherine paused, then spoke with the voice of the poet Master. He was speaking to me.

"What we tell you is for now. You must now learn through your own intuition."

After a few minutes, Catherine spoke in her soft whisper. "There is a black fence... within are tombstones. Yours is there." "Mine?" I asked, surprised at this vision.

"Yes."

"Can you read the inscription?"

"The name is 'Noble': 1668-1724. There is a flower 196 Brian L Weiss, M.D.

on it.... It is in France or Russia. You were in a red uniform...

thrown from a horse..... There is a gold ring... with a lion's head...

used as an insignia.

There was no more. I interpreted the poet Master's statement to mean there would be no more revelations through Catherine's hypnosis, and this was indeed the case. We were to have no further sessions. Her cure had been complete, and I had learned all that I could through the regressions. The rest, what lay in the future, I had to learn through my own intuition.