Shamanic Past Life Wisdom Retrieval: I Remember Atlantis

I remember Atlantis.

I remember the fall most vividly, but I remember some of the circumstances and power struggles that lead up to the devastating end.

I remember soaring crystal pillars and smooth floors that hummed with power. I remember the beauty of the temples and the elegant architecture of precious stone.

I remember my studies as a young priestess, my growing awareness of different factions and philosophies, and the unease that grew as I progressed on my path of service.

I remember when I was initiated into the role of high priestess, my mentor counseled me to be very careful. She told me to remember the teachings I had received in the right use of power, and to use the influence of my position to protect the safety of my people.

I remember walking through a vast hallway when I was suddenly brought to my knees by discordant sounds screeching through my bones. I covered my ears in pain, but the sounds were inaudible vibrations ricocheting through me.

I got up and ran into a massive room with towering crystal columns and giant orbs that crackled and sparked. Something was very wrong. Two of my priestess sisters were already there, and the three of us took our places together to drop into a trance and assess what was wrong with the energetic architecture of the grid.

I felt it immediately. I saw where someone had tried to magnify an output of power from one of the generator stations, and the entire grid of Atlantis was fluctuating wildly as it tried to compensate for the imbalance.

I heard a deep cracking sound, and opened my eyes to see fractures running the entire length of the crystal columns, all the way up to the orbs at the top.

My heart broke. My sisters and I stood and raised our hands to try to offer what support we could in one final attempt to stabilize the grid. I remember singing cords of light into the glowing crystal pillars.

But the rumbling started, and soon after, the waters came crashing in, and Atlantis was no more.

——

This memory surfaced many years ago in the early days of my awakening. It served as an important part of me claiming my own power and integrating the remembered wisdom teachings from other incarnations into my current life and service.

And honestly, I had kind of forgotten about it until February, when I received a healing session from my Shaman mentor and it all came flooding back. (Along with a memory of the fall of ancient Sumer, but that’s another story.)

The heartbreak and despair I felt from the fall of Atlantis is rippling through the timeline to the heartbreak I feel watching the misuse of power and political upheaval now. I am once again a wisdom keeper who has pledged her life in spiritual service, and I am trying my best to support my community and protect the right balance of power to prevent the fall of another civilization.

It all feels a little too familiar.

But it also feels different.

This time feels different, because it’s not just a small group of wisdom keepers who are trying to hold the balance. This time, it’s much more out the in the open. The awareness of that imbalance is spreading, and more and more people are standing up to protect the right use of power.

I have lived many lifetimes of service in the mysteries. I’ve lived through the collapse of multiple ancient and powerful civilizations. Part of my practice has been to draw upon the experience of other incarnations and to integrate that knowledge, so I can move forward from the fully empowered wholeness of my eternal spirit and all the wisdom I have gained through all my lifetimes.

I am once again feeling some deep inner re-structuring, and it’s a bit uncomfortable, but also feels very powerful and clarifying.

And I know other people are remembering powerful mystery teachings, too.

This is a time when we are all being called upon to embody the knowledge not only of our current incarnations and the teachings we have received this time around, but to implement the hard-earned wisdom, codes and spiritual technology we carry from all of our many lifetimes.

I feel strongly that we are living through a very powerful portal, where we get to put this wisdom to work and achieve different outcomes than we have in the past.

But it requires courage, deep alignment and skillful application of this wisdom. It requires us to not only remember and feel the echos of our other incarnations, but to integrate the wisdom codes and transmute them into our empowered actions in this Earthwalk.

Friends — The mysteries are alive and asking to be remembered.

Maybe you've felt some recognition or knowing that doesn't make logical sense.

Maybe you've felt your bones hum like tuning forks when you hear the name of an ancient people.

Maybe you hear the whispers of your ancestors, and the lineage holders and wisdom keepers, beckoning you to listen, and feel, and remember.

What spiritual technology wants to awaken within you? What codes and mysteries are asking to come alive in your consciousness so they can once again serve in the world?

If you feel the call and resonance of this story and know that there is remembered wisdom awakening within you —

I am offering 1:1 support with Past Life Wisdom Retrieval.

If you’re ready to fully awaken and embody your inner knowing —

If you feel the remembrance of wisdom from other incarnations and you want to anchor it into this lifetime —

If you know that you are here to be a force of healing, transformation and creation in the world —

If you’re ready to master the spiritual technology, codes and mysteries that you’ve inherited from all your lifetimes —

>>>Book a call with me to retrieve and integrate your Past Life Wisdom.

Many blessings,

Michelle Hawk

I Am Not A Musician

I AM NOT A MUSICIAN.

…or so I keep telling myself, but my relationship to music and the way it manifests through me seems to be up for reconsideration.

I love to sing. My voice has always been my chosen musical medium, and other than my ceremonial hand drum, I have only ever played an instrument with the intention of providing a background for song to pour through me. Over the last several years as I stepped more fully into the practice of channeling healing songs during my energy work, what began as a few hesitant notes and chants eventually grew in fluency and fluidity. They now flow effortlessly in a cascade of moving energy to support nurturing, catharsis, activation, clearing and death. The healing songs I bring forth have given a voice to the grief, joy, innocence, pain, sweetness, rage and love of my clients (and of myself). Sometimes these songs have words, but mostly they consist of a blend of syllables and tones that provide some semblance of structure to an otherwise formless melody. While there might be similar themes, most of the songs are completely new in the moment and leave my consciousness as soon as they pour out of my throat. One or two, however, have come through so often and so strongly that I know them as allies that are here to stay and can call upon them consciously.

So, you might ask, what is it that has me meditating on the medicine of music? Let me take you through some standout events of the past week.

Last Friday, I attended a gong meditation and sound healing bath. I absolutely love these events and always go deep with the sound healing, and this was no exception. Despite the volume and intensity of the gong, I fell asleep, as I do when receiving deep healing. When I awoke near the end of the event, I suddenly heard a chorus of flutes within the shimmering tones of the gong. I listened, transfixed, and perceived the melodies of the ancestors making their way through the gong vibration. I felt my body respond with subtle shifts and releases as the sound of flutes intensified.

The next evening, I went to the closing ceremony of Sun Gate studio. In addition to the beautiful community container and celebration of the space, this wonderful event featured some amazing live music. As I drank in the deep heart songs, I heard that same chorus of ancestral flutes! Someone there was playing the flute, but what came through was much richer and more ancient than a single instrument and I knew that the ancestors were making their presence known. Later in the evening as other musicians shared their medicine, I experienced similar sensations of seeing/knowing/feeling the space from which they were channeling, and feeling that intimate connection with my own version of bringing forth healing songs.

Also at this event, I ran into a friend of mine whom I hadn’t seen in a while. He is a wonderful cellist, and we have enjoyed the occasional singing and playing together. He asked me, “Michelle, when are we going to make some music together?” I told him I don’t play an instrument, and he said “Well yeah, I know, but you sing.” I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I do remember the feelings of resistance and shame and shyness that rushed through me, because after all, I’m not a musician and would have nothing to offer.

Fast forward a couple of days to a conversation with a friend. I don’t remember how the conversation arrived at this point, but he said something to the effect of “You’re going to sing during your speech” (meaning the speech that I gave yesterday at Embrace Festival) and my reaction was along the lines of “Haha, yeah right. I’m not a musician.”

The conference began on Friday, and the very first speaker was a woman from Australia who captivated me with her heartfelt talk on nonviolent direct action… and the pieces of songs of Australian First People that she wove into her talk.

Yesterday, I gave my speech at the conference, and as my friend predicted, I sang onstage. It was entirely unplanned, but as I gave my talk, I realized that I was actually offering a group healing session to the audience. In typical fashion, a healing song poured out of me. That was the first time I had ever sung a healing song in any kind of public context—a fact that didn’t register with me until just now.

Last night, I received some more deep medicine of powerful heart music during the Embrace Festival closing ceremony. I enjoyed every musical offering, but hearing Peia and the profound ancestral magic that poured out of her left me dissolving and raw.

…oh, and yesterday, a friend with whom I haven’t spoken in several months got in touch out of the blue to ask if I wanted to buy her ukulele.

…and the woman from Australia, after hearing me sing a healing song during my talk, said she wanted to give me some songs, so we sang magic together as we walked through the streets of downtown Portland.

I don’t really need to be a “musician.” I don’t even know what that means. But I do think my relationship to song and the way in which I share it with the world is up for reexamination. I know I cracked at least a few people open from giving my talk, and song medicine was a part of that. Given my philosophy on radical transparency (the reason I publish all the personal musings), if anyone anywhere could benefit even a little bit from me sharing a story, no matter how vulnerable, then I share it. I think the same goes for song. I have no idea what that looks like moving forward, but I will hold space for it to manifest in its perfect space and time.

Words—my normal, comfortable means of communication and a significant component of my medicine—seem to be failing me at the moment. The same thing happened repeatedly last week whenever the music cracked me wide open (as it did a few times) and I was left trying to communicate that which exists beyond words. Better quit while I’m ahead and leave it to a song for another time.