Excerpt: You Will Reincarnate
I’m planning to indie-publish several books in my series on astrology and mind all at once in 2020, so they can be read conveniently one after the other, and also offered as a digital box set. More books in box set are also presently in the works and will be published a little while after these, as I’ve been writing them all concurrently over the years.
So, I’m giving you a little taste, here, of the first book in my series, You Will Reincarnate (the subtitle hasn’t been settled yet). The ebook version will be initially free (for as long as I can maintain a $0 price tag on Amazon) on all the major digital platforms, and the paper and audio versions (I’ll be narrating) will be priced.
You Will Reincarnate describes the research processes and findings from decades of my own clinical work with students, clients, and of course myself, with the help of other professionals such as kinesiologists and excellent spiritual mediums. Astrology has been a central tool in both validating and expanding on the results from these other sources. The asteroids never lie! … More on that in another book!
I hope you enjoy this little excerpt, which is the Preface in its entirety.
from Kerrie Redgate’s forthcoming book:
You Will Reincarnate
The Catholic Nun was covered in black, from toe to crown, with an oval face piercing through a starched white frame. Only her long-fingered white hands revealed the life within the blackness. She was a force. Dark, foreboding, all the clichés. The beads of her long rosary rattled as loudly as the tapping of her boots on the polished linoleum floor while she paced along the hallway toward our classroom.
It was 1962, and within the Catholic school system of those days, the nuns were designed to be overbearing figures of Authority.
I always sat straight and still in those classes. Not so much for The Nun, but from an inner sense of dignity and self-discipline, as though I had to prove myself to myself, before I could gain anyone’s respect. I also had a strong sense of justice, often arguing passionately with my parents about “human rights” (especially at bed-time when I wanted to linger late with the adults). I demanded to be treated as an equal.
However, I had not questioned the religious instruction we were given at school, until a particular day when the topic of The Nun’s teaching was Death. Actually, it was what happens after death. We sat through an entire exposé of the Heaven and Hell realms; and in those days, Purgatory, the half-way house, was also on the cards.
I recall being stunned in disbelief. What I was hearing from this darkly-clad image of stern responsibility was clearly a lie, an untruth, a deception!
Or so I was thinking.
I was too young to have known that religious belief is a matter of choice, and that there are many religions, philosophies, and beliefs, that can inspire any one of us—or conversely entrap us within the Realm of Intolerance and Self-Importance.
Well, perhaps I was a little involved in the Realm of Intolerance at that point, because I never trusted any of the Catholic nuns from that day onwards. In my heart, in that moment, I renounced my Catholic-ness, though I never lost a connection to what I would later term ‘Spirit’.
Perhaps I could be forgiven for such a rash, yet resolute, decision—I was only seven years old.
So, what was it that turned my young mind so against the very teacher I was supposed to revere as a role model and Bestower of Knowledge?
Astoundingly, it was memory. Clear as day. Vivid as your own memory of yesterday. As I listened to the dissertation on the Eternal Afterlife, my mind struggled with the memory of a time before I was born: my last lifetime as a young man in India, a medical doctor, trying to heal desperately diseased children. In 1962, I was too young to know the word ‘reincarnation’, but I knew for certain that we come back after our body has died.
My earliest memory of my current life takes me back to age four, or thereabouts, as I was able to speak well enough to express my thoughts. I was in a very large living-room (of course, it seemed large, as I was very small), enclosed by walls of adults holding drinks, smoking tobacco, and chatting noisily. They were skyscrapers in an oppressive city to me. I clearly remember looking upwards, grabbing a man’s trouser leg, giving it a couple of tugs to get his attention, and sternly announcing, “There-are-children-in-India-who-are-dying-and-starving-and-we-have-to-help-them!”.
Needless to say, my squeaky little voice had very little impact. So I tried some skirts as well… All that frivolity surrounding me when there was so much suffering in the world. I was incredulous.
Television was a new invention in the 1950s, and we did not have one in our house during my very early years. No one in my sphere of influence ever spoke of India or its starving children. My family knew no Indian people personally, as at that time Australia was still upholding a racist “White Australia Policy”, being years before an industrial-economic necessity would instigate an alternative multi-racial immigration scheme.
And yet, as a little four-year-old girl, I was stirred by a strong compassion for something that had been happening in another part of the world, on an entirely different landmass within a culture I could not have imagined.
There were many more years of religious indoctrination for me, but I never relented in my secret belief. And over the years I cemented a vow deeply into my psyche that I would one day prove the truth of rebirth; that I would educate people to know what really does lie ahead after we die; and most importantly, why we choose to come back! This book is the fulfilment of that vow.
— © 2019 Kerrie Redgate
publication date scheduled for 2020