During a session, I told a client how she’d had her eye gouged out in a past life. She let out a yelp, not because it was such a shocking thing to be told, but because ten seconds earlier she’d experienced a stabbing pain behind her eye. “Your right eye?” I asked her. Sure enough, it was the right eye. In my past life stories, whether about celebrities or people just like you, it’s important to learn how what happened in your past lives impacts you in this one. And what you can do about it. In another session, I discovered that a different client, a woman in this life, had been a young man in Hollywood during the silent movie era. Down on his luck, he had stolen a wallet from a wealthy businessman, who had shot him in the hip as he’d tried to run away. A second or two before I told her the location of the bullet wound, she grabbed her hip and let out a very loud “Ow!” We hold memories of past lives in our bodies. I call them Achilles body parts. They’re where we have weaknesses, or where we continually have aches and pains. Several of my clients have had exploratory surgery to find the cause of unexplained abdominal pains. Doctors were unable to find anything, because the cause was spiritual rather than physical. Why did my clients suddenly have stabbing pains during their sessions? As I told them what happened to them in the past, their souls instantly recalled the trauma, which manifested as pain. It happened moments before I told them where the injury occurred, because time is fluid on the other side. The soul often experiences events before they happen. (That’s why you sometimes know who’s on the line before you answer the phone, or why you might feel anxiety before receiving bad news.) In my line of work, I’m used to weird things happening. But one of the oddest occurred when I was calmly telling a client how she’d died many lifetimes ago. “You joined the British Army and were posted to India,” I told her. “Not long after, you died of Tetanus. I believe it’s called lockj…OW!” The moment I said the word “tetanus,” I experienced an excruciating pain in my jaw. It ran from my temples down both sides of my face to my chin, and spread down to the top of my chest. I thought that my guides were giving me some kind of empathic reaction. My client recalls me exclaiming, “I get it!” and “Enough, already!” She thought to herself, “Wow! Ainslie and his guides are almost arguing!” Meanwhile, my heart was pounding as I struggled to suppress a feeling of intense panic. The worst of the pain subsided after a minute or so. I was left with a dull ache and a slight constriction in my throat. At the end of the session, I apologized to my client for all the drama, and moved on to my next appointment. I shared with my next client what had just happened. But when I uttered the word “tetanus,” the pain came back almost instantly. It wasn’t quite as intense as before, but enough to cause my heart to race and the muscles in my jaw to clench. My next call was with a doctor client. Again, I shared what had happened, and the moment I said the “T” word, the pain enveloped my jaw once more. “It sounds like a past-life issue to me,” he said. And, sure enough, it was. When I had a few minutes to myself, I asked my guides what was going on. It was far from some overblown empathic reaction. I had stumbled upon a past-life issue of my own. My client’s death in India mirrored my own death in America during the same period. I had my guides take me back into a life in the Carolinas, where I’d been a barefoot boy living on a farm. I was playing in a hayloft when someone called me from outside the barn. I jumped down, cutting my toe on some rusty farm implements. I contracted tetanus and died in extreme pain not long after. The session with my client had triggered a deep memory within my soul. Once I’d explored that particular life and death, however, the ache in my jaw dissipated and has never returned, no matter how often I use the words “tetanus” and “lockjaw.” After we uncovered her prior incarnation in India, I asked my client if she had issues with her jaw. It was not surprising to hear that she did. Her jaw would lock in the dentist’s chair, causing her extreme distress. The same thing would happen when she threw up. Since we did the past-life work together, however, she’s had no problems with her jaw. And neither have I. (In the past, I’d broken two molars from clenching my jaw, prompting my dentist ask me, “What’s the matter? Don’t you like your teeth?” The key to healing Achilles body parts is to remind your soul that “that was then and this is now.” Often, it involves little more than finding the past-life source of the ailment so that your soul can let go of the resonances it stores in your body. Then your soul says to itself, “Oh, right, so that happened in another incarnation? In that case, I don’t have to carry this memory with me any longer.” This will allow you to move forward without aches, pains, or physical weaknesses that have no place in your present life. There are many ways to learn about who you were in your past lives.