The Journey of Souls

Journey of Souls

When I first cracked open the door to my twin flame journey, I was reading Many Lives, Many Masters by Brian Weiss. At the time, I didn’t realize how profoundly that book would mirror my own life.

Weiss was a psychologist working with a client who suffered from severe phobias. Nothing he tried seemed to help. Eventually, he guided her into hypnosis to find the root of her fear — and she slipped into a past life. What unfolded changed everything for him.

That story resonated deeply with me. I had been having multidimensional experiences my entire life, along with vague memories of other lifetimes and timelines. What I loved most about Weiss’ work was that it came from the perspective of a scientist and skeptic. Many of us already believe in reincarnation when we read these books — but there’s something grounding and validating about someone who sets out to disprove something and ends up transformed by the evidence.

I’ve always been an experiential teacher. I learn through gnosis, through lived experience, and then I research to expand my understanding. But I deeply appreciate skeptics — especially the curious ones. They ask the questions that push us deeper. The best healers and seekers are those with open hearts and curious minds, willing to change their beliefs when new experiences arise.

As iOrigins asks so beautifully: “With enough empirical evidence, would you change your beliefs?”

I know I have. Many times.

Brian Weiss published Many Lives, Many Masters in 1988. Michael Newton followed with Journey of Souls in 1994, taking his clients beyond past lives and into the space between lives. I didn’t read Journey of Souls until years later — after I had already experienced past-life regressions, a near-death experience, and multiple shared-death experiences of my own.

When I finally read it, I found myself nodding again and again. Yes. Yes. That’s exactly how it felt.

Shared Death Experiences

I’ve had three shared death experiences in this lifetime.

The first happened when my twin flame attempted to take his own life. I was working behind the bar of a brewpub when I suddenly collapsed to the floor. I could see him leaving his body in my mind’s eye. But mostly I felt it! Our shared life force drained out of me. I ran home in hysterics, and as I changed out of my clothes, his spirit dropped into the room.

I screamed at him. I punched the air. And then he said clearly, “Not you. Do not follow me. You have important things to do in this life. Not you.”

The second shared death experience happened in 2017 when my ex-husband (the father of my children) was dying in the hospital after years of alcoholism. His organs were shutting down. Doctors said his brain would not survive. My children made the brave decision to remove life support.

But he didn’t die right away.

His sister texted me: “Kimber, he’s not going.”

I said, “Give me five minutes.”

I sat on the floor, entered meditation, and left my body. I traveled to the hospital in Tucson and found his spirit tethered to his body, wrapped around something like a stone at the bottom of a river. I called in the archangels — Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael — and the room filled with golden light.

I untethered him.

The moment I did, he left his body.

His sister texted me: “He’s gone.”

I told my children. Then I went back to my room and his spirit appeared, laughing:
“Dude! The multiverse is way cooler than we ever imagined.”

He took me on a journey through realms of sound, light, geometry, and star systems. He showed me the physics behind reality — equations, harmonics, dimensional layers. Months later, he returned again to show me his life review. Our entire soul contract made sense.

The third experience was two years ago, when my mother had a heart attack.

She was rushed to the hospital and placed on life support, but I knew immediately she had already left. I saw her move into the light and into the arms of Mother Mary. My mother had lived with deep anxiety her whole life and like magic she was free. Light. Peaceful.

She turned to me and said, “There’s Jakie! There’s Jakie!”

I didn’t understand at first. Then she showed me a baby boy, the child she had miscarried between my sisters. His name was Jacob.

My twin survived his near-death experience, but something in him changed. A part of his soul never fully returned.

Years later, during my own near-death experience, I was burning with fever. A tree of life grew from the top of my head and my consciousness climbed its branches. I entered a realm of music and light where great composers and musicians gathered, creating sound that held the architecture of reality together.

The angels told me I could stay.

I thought of my children and chose to return. But I wanted to see my beloved.

So I asked, “Where is he?”

A wormhole opened. I traveled through space and time, faster than light, until I reached a dark, fractured realm — what many would call hell. He was there, sitting among ruined buildings and ash. It was apocalyptic.

I grabbed him.  “Come with me.”

He resisted and yelled, “No! This is where I belong.”

That’s when I realized: hell is a thought-form. A self-created reality born of guilt, shame, and belief.

I pulled back the veil and behind it was a golden city of light.

The Realization

There are many realms.

Between heaven and earth is a space shaped by belief, memory, and frequency. When we die, we often go where our consciousness expects to go. Some see Jesus. Some see Krishna. Some see the void, the stars, or luminous beings. Some go to schools of light. Some become guides. Some dissolve back into Source.

And some, like my mother, go straight into love.

Eventually, all paths return to the same place — the Heart of the Goddess, the Mind of God, the Pleroma of all that is.

When Gandhi died, his last words were “Ram, Ram, Ram.” A name of God. A remembrance of truth.

And perhaps that is the great secret: Wherever we go next . . . we are always going home.