My Extremely Haunted Life: ~Picking Fluffies~

Due to experiences that had occurred when my eldest child was all of two years of age, I had begun reading; with tremendous interest, whatever I could get my hands on about reincarnation.

I read book after book and found myself intrigued by the numerous stories, especially stories of children who talked about "another" life and/or family.

I was rather fascinated by stories of children that recalled moments and events from history that at their young age would have no way of knowing.

I was amazed when I read that some children have even been able to recall names of places they have never been to, as well as names of people that once walked the face of the earth many, many years before they were even born; which when investigated were completely accurate.

During this time, my daughter was about two and a half years old. Months prior, she had developed a red, peeling rash on the tips of all of her fingers.

I had taken her to our family doctor numerous times who insisted that it was eczema. The doctor prescribed cream after cream, but none of them worked.

The doctor eventually sent my daughter to see a Dermatologist, a doctor specializing in diseases and afflictions/infections of the skin.

The Dermatologist was dumbfounded and couldn't understand why the creams our family doctor had prescribed had not worked. She said that every single cream our doctor had prescribed were known to be highly effective at treating the eczema my daughter had.

The Dermatologist did not want to prescribe anything stronger, so she encouraged me to keep applying the cream our family doctor had prescribed, in hopes that it would work.

In the meantime, my poor daughter had to deal with having red, inflamed skin on the tips of all of her fingers that continually cracked and bled. But, she was a trooper, ever willing and eager to allow me to put anything on her skin in hopes that it would clear it up.

One evening, while she was in the bath, I was washing her hair. She was playing with one of her Barbie dolls and singing away. I was suddenly aware of the song she was humming and singing. I had heard the song before but couldn't remember where.

It really wasn't surprising since there was always music playing in our house. I either had the radio on, or I was playing C.D's. I was always singing along to one song or another. I was also always singing songs to my daughter, and had been since I was pregnant with her.

All of a sudden it dawned on me, my daughter was singing an old slave song. I remembered learning that song in school when I was just a kid, while learning all about Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad.

I knew the song, and I knew for a fact that I had never sang that song to my daughter, and I certainly did not teach it to her. Where could she have possibly heard it?

At a loss for words I said to my daughter, "Wow. That's a really old song. Where did you hear it? Did Nana teach you that song?"

Without even looking up from her Barbie my daughter said, "No mommy. I learned that song before. We sang it while we picked fluffies."

Having no idea what she was talking about I said, "Fluffies? What are fluffies?"

She said, "Fluffies that grow outside."

I still had no clue what she was talking about.

She then looked at her little fingers and said, "That's why my fingers are all pinkly" (that's what she called the dry, cracked, 'peeling' skin). She then went on to tell me that she would cut her fingers "on the sticks when picking the fluffies".

Still not understanding what she was talking about, I simply left it at that and finished washing her hair.

A few days later while visiting at my parents home, I mentioned the conversation with my daughter to my mom. My mom's eyes immediately went big and she said, "Could she be talking about picking cotton?"

I was startled and quite surprised. I said, "Holy shit! I never thought of that! Do you think that's what she's talking about? Really?"

My mom then asked me how the hell my daughter who wasn't yet 3, could possibly know an old song that slaves used to sing. She also said, "And how the hell would she know about picking it, and cutting her fingers on the branches and stuff?"

I couldn't believe it. I had to admit, I thought that perhaps my mom was right. I was amazed, and actually kind of scared. It was a little bit creepy, and rather sad to me.

That night while laying with my daughter and reading her a bedtime story I asked her about picking the fluffies. But before I did, I went into the washroom and brought out a cotton ball.

I would buy and keep bags of cotton balls up in the cupboard in our bathroom, and use them to take my eye make-up off at bedtime.

I sat down on my daughter's bed and said, "Remember how you were telling me about picking fluffies?" She nodded her head yes. I said, "Did they look like this?", and I handed her the cotton ball.

She took it, held it and told me that it was kind of like the fluffies, but that the fluffies had "pokey" things on them, and sometimes the pokey things were sharp. She then asked me, "Don't you remember Mommy?"

I told her that no, I didn't remember. And the truth was I didn't. I had no clue what she was even talking a bout.

She then explained how she hated picking the fluffies because the pokey things hurt and cut her fingers, making them bleed. She also told me that it was so hot outside when we picked fluffies.

I was speechless.

I told her not to worry about it anymore, bent down, tucked her in, and kissed her good-night.

While laying in my own bed that night, I suddenly recalled some information that I had come across while reading up about reincarnation and children.

Somewhere, I had read about cell memory and how it is believed that our cells in our body can retain information or "imprints" from our soul memory, from previous incarnations.

I had read that birth marks and other skin anomalies are believed to actually be retained cell memory from a previous incarnation.

I had also read somewhere that it is suggested that we can talk to our child while they are asleep to reach their sub-conscious.

While talking to them, we can reassure them that they are safe and can let go of the past, that they are in a new life and a new body.

I had read accounts where parents had supposedly done this and to their astonishment their child's port wine stain, and/or other birthmark(s) slowly faded until it was gone. Eventually there was no indication that the birthmark or port wine stain ever existed.

I thought about my daughter and everything she had said and wondered if talking to her, to her sub-conscious while she was asleep, might help heal the skin on her fingers.

At first I thought it was a stupid idea and just lame hocus pocus crap, but then a voice inside me thought, "Who cares? What have you got to lose? The poor kid has tried prescription after prescription. What's the worst that could happen? It would either work, or it wouldn't."

My mind was made up. I got up off my bed and headed to my daughter's bedroom. I slowly opened her door and found her sound asleep.

I quietly entered the room and laid down beside her. I got really close to her and I whispered very quietly into her ear.

I called her name and then said, "Can you hear me? Can you hear mommy?" She moved her head slightly so I asked her again, "Can you hear me? Tell me if you can hear me?" I heard her give a faint, "Mmm hmm."

I can't recall exactly what I said to her word for word, but I basically told her that she was in a new life, and safe. That she was now in a new, healthy body. I told her to let her current physical body heal, and to let her body release any physical hurts from any past lives. I told her that the things from before could no longer hurt her now.

I then asked her, "If you heard everything I said, say yes." My daughter then mumbled a faint, "Yes."

I kissed her and told her how much I loved her. I then quietly got off of her bed and left the room.

The next morning when she woke up her fingers actually looked better than they had in months.

And I swear to God, I would not have believed it if I hadn't seen it for myself, but the second morning she woke up, her fingers were completely healed.

My daughter is 19 now, and has never had any problems with eczema or skin rashes appearing anywhere on her body since.

"I did not begin when I was born, nor when I was conceived. I have been growing, developing, through incalculable myriads of millenniums. All my previous selves have their voices, echoes, promptings in me..."
~Jack London~

freshly picked cotton