How I Fell Into My Past Lives (And Found a Method in the Madness)

How I Fell Into My Past Lives (And Found a Method in the Madness)

My journey into reincarnation research didn’t begin with books or academic curiosity — it started with direct experience.

During the first lockdown, I found myself without a home. At a gig, I met someone I now recognize as a high-level soulmate. He brought me to Leipzig, and that’s where everything began to unfold.

I started receiving specific memories and found myself drawn to certain places that seemed to trigger recognition — as if they were leaving clues about my past lives. Strange things began to happen. For a while, I became deeply fascinated with dark magick and Draconian rituals. I even prepared to work with my own blood, but something always stopped me — the music I was playing would suddenly cut out, or the atmosphere would shift. It felt like a force beyond me was saying: not this again.

Later, I realized I wasn’t supposed to dabble in black magick — not in this life. I had already learned that lesson the hard way, in both my most recent and an even older incarnation.

That’s when the whole good/evil glitch came online, and I got obsessed with Faust. I was living near a village Goethe once visited, and I kept trying to order the book, but my orders were cancelled — twice. Not the right time.

Since 2019, I’ve been doing past life readings using tarot. It started with a small book that taught me how to ask the right questions. Through it, I discovered a recurring connection to Hermetic teachings. During those early readings, synchronicities started piling up — my keyboard would type by itself, I’d see double digits constantly, and other signs would appear as if I was tapping into something much larger than me.

Eventually, I decided to dive deeper into my most recent past life, as it seemed to be the one influencing me most subconsciously. I found a detailed tarot protocol — a long list of questions exploring everything from personality and family dynamics to soul lessons and life purpose.

That session turned into a 60-page Word document, filled with copied card descriptions and my intuitive highlights.

A few months later, I met my twin flame — someone who shares the same soul frequency. I was already on a spiritual path since getting sober in 2012, but this meeting pulled me deeper. Twin flame connections activate you. In my case, he ran — and I got obsessed.

That longing unlocked something in me: psychic gifts, memories, sensitivities. I started using tarot to explore our shared past lives. Over time, I realized I was accessing what many call the Akashic Records — or, as I prefer: the Universal Mind, a multidimensional field storing the emotional and spiritual imprint of every soul’s journey.

Around this time, I was working on KYBALION: The Musical. It started as an album inspired by lines from the Kybalion, but when I was invited to create something for a live event at a gallery, it quickly evolved — what followed was like a three-week bender of nonstop writing, during which I barely slept, as if taken over by something beyond me; it later felt less like a creative process and more like a deep channeling, culminating in a full two-hour theater experience.
Ten characters appeared to a central figure named Giek — who later revealed themselves as soul fragments of me.

One was a cult leader. Another, a magician living in hiding in a queen’s castle, persecuted for being a heretic.

While writing, I stumbled on John Dee’s Monas Hieroglyphica, a symbol that eerily resembled a tapestry a friend had made for the show. Turns out, she was my wife in the life connected to that symbol.

After the show, I felt the need to come down and began researching Dee and his partner Edward Kelley. Reading about Kelley made the hairs on my body rise — his personality mirrored my twin flame’s exactly. It felt like a cosmic alignment.

Kelley led me to Aleister Crowley, who claimed to be Kelley reincarnated. Crowley felt oddly familiar, so I used the past life reading protocol again. That’s how I found Herbert Charles Pollitt — also known as Jerome — a female impersonator, poet, and Crowley’s lover during his time at Cambridge. It turned out that I, as Pollitt, had been the one who inspired Crowley to start writing poetry in the first place. Their connection mirrored the exact twin flame dynamic I had experienced in this life — the intense magnetism, the creative ignition, followed by fear, obsession, push and pull, and ultimately heartbreak.

Crowley’s writings included lists of his own past lives, which gave me clues to search for my own. I kept doing readings, uncovering life after life.

For instance, I noticed how Goethe’s Mephistopheles bore an uncanny resemblance to Count Cagliostro — a trickster, magician, manipulator. Goethe had even gone to Italy to investigate if Cagliostro’s name was fake. That obsession echoed mine.

At this point, I was still trying to understand why my twin flame kept running. My soul was guiding me to look deeper — not into him, but into me.

Eventually, I turned back to that first long reading I had done — the one pointing to a past life as a star. I had always assumed I’d been some kind of cult leader in the ’60s, but none of the famous ones fit. They were all too extreme, too psychopathic. My reading said I had issues, sure — but I wasn’t a murderer. Not in that life, anyway. Let’s just say I’d already played the role of power-hungry moralist with blood on his hands… somewhere back in the Middle Ages.

Then YouTube suggested a video about The Doors.

Suddenly, the energy rushed in. I got sweaty. A rock star as a cult leader? Reading about Jim Morrison felt like reading my own words. Every detail in that 60-page reading matched his life.

That’s when everything cracked open. Within two weeks, I was in debt and lost my home. I had been living in a dream world, still on Dutch welfare, making art by a lake. But this revelation forced me to face myself.

Jim’s life wasn’t just a story — it was an energetic blueprint still shaping my fears, gifts, and relationships. And I’m still uncovering layers from that life — and from Pollitt’s, too.

That’s when astrology — something I’d studied quietly for years — began to click. The birth chart, I realized, is a karmic blueprint carrying echoes from our soul’s other lives.

What started as a private spiral of discovery turned into a calling.

Eventually, I began finding past lives of friends, and helping others tap into this field using the tools I had refined: tarot, astrology, trance states, and — more recently — AI-supported pattern recognition.

The method I use now wasn’t born overnight. It’s the result of years of tracking synchronicities, following threads, working with clients, and revisiting my own multidimensional story.

And this blog is where I’ll begin to share it.

If you want to dive deeper, you can follow my ongoing research and discoveries on the Reincarnation Research page.

I’m also soon releasing the Past Life Podcast, where I’ll explore these journeys in conversation and story form.

Plus, I’m working on launching a new website platform where people can register claiming to have been famous historical figures in past lives — allowing me to analyze their astrology birth charts and do past life readings as data for my ongoing research.

Stay tuned for more!