Karma

How Travel Helped Me Discover Past Lives

By Jason Young

Travel Triggers a Past Life Recall

It was the summer of 1990 and my girlfriend and I were river and trail guides. As summer wrapped up, we took a trip from Colorado to California. Then unusual experiences began!

Near Steamboat Springs, Colorado, another camper casually asked if we were on our honeymoon. We weren’t—but the question sparked something inside me. It felt like a “waking dream”—an experience that grabs your attention and hints at a deeper spiritual message. I didn’t understand it yet, but I knew to pay attention.

A Mystery Illness in the Mountains

A day later, while we were driving west near the base of the Wasatch Mountains, I was suddenly overcome by a mysterious illness. I became delirious and feverish, haunted by inner visions of a nightmarish, blinding light. I needed rest, so we found a place to camp, and I immediately fell asleep in the middle of the afternoon. That night, I woke up—the fever had broken, and I felt better.

At the time, I suspected it was some kind of cellular memory—a past-life echo bubbling up in my body. I filed the experience away.

A Past Life from Donner Pass?

A few days later, we found ourselves driving through the infamous Donner Pass. It was late, and the only option we had was to sleep in the car at a rest area. The next morning, we discovered we were near the very site of the historic Donner Party tragedy.

My girlfriend Suzie, a history major, filled me in on the harrowing journey of pioneers who faced starvation, brutal elements, and death in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. I began to wonder: Could I have been one of them?

Discovering Jay Fosdick

Months later, I found a book listing the names of those in the Donner Party. One name stood out: Jay Fosdick. He joined up with the Donners later at the base of the Wasatch Mountains—interestingly, while also on his honeymoon with his wife, Sarah. Suddenly that question from the camper made sense— “Are you on your honeymoon?”

The mysterious illness I experienced near the Wasatch Mountains occurred at the very place where Jay, his wife, and the Donner Party first encountered serious trouble. Cutting a trail through the rugged terrain delayed them by a month. My blinding inner vision echoed reports of sun blindness during the harsh desert stretch of their journey, which also took longer than expected. The final blow came in the Sierra Nevada, where record-breaking early snow left them trapped. In a desperate bid for survival, Jay and some others set off in search of help. Only a handful survived, including Jay’s wife. Jay, however, died in the wilderness of starvation and exposure.

A bigger picture was coming into focus.

Other parallels emerged: Jay had a violin; I had played violin in a youth symphony. Jay had a gold pocket watch. When I was young, I had a similar treasured pocket watch—an odd choice for a kid! These weren’t just coincidences. I came to understand: I had been Jay Fosdick in that life.

I couldn’t help but wonder: “Why did I have that lifetime as Jay Fosdick who died an awful death, frozen and starved in the snow?”

I would soon find out.

Another Past Life—as an Aztec Priest

Later on, in the mid-1990s, I visited Teotihuacan near Mexico City. A local vendor there insisted I buy a beautifully decorated flute. I didn’t want it—but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. It had an obsidian blade on the end, like those used in ancient sacrifices. Eventually, I gave in and bought it.

Shortly after the purchase, I developed a splitting headache unlike anything I’d ever experienced. In quiet contemplation, I received a vision of a past life—as an Aztec priest. In that life, I had sacrificed people, even though I knew it was wrong. I had the opportunity to refuse—but I likely would have been sacrificed myself.

Going Even Deeper

How were these lives connected? And why had I become that priest in the first place? Again, I entered contemplation. In my inner vision, a scene unfolded from 14^th century England. I was a religious hermit, deeply connected to Divine Spirit, hearing the inner Sound of God. However, I lacked humility and harshly judged others.

In that life, I had boasted, “I’d rather die the most awful death than offend God!” That bold claim set a karmic lesson into motion—my reincarnation as the Aztec priest was a test where I had to choose: sacrifice others or die an awful death myself. In turn, Jay Fosdick’s life was sacrificed, thus completing the karmic cycle.

The Gift of My Spiritual Guide

Throughout this journey, I was guided inwardly by the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ—an inner spiritual teacher who offers personalized instruction through dreams, insights, subtle nudges, and more.

He didn’t walk the path for me, but he pointed the way. He helped me see that karma isn’t punishment—it’s education for Soul, the eternal and unique identity of every person. It is a way to learn responsibility and grow in divine love.

Going Beyond Karma

Some might say my stories are just coincidences. And I get it—this kind of experience is deeply personal. But for me, the connections are undeniable.

A simple yet powerful tool I used in my contemplations was singing HU—an ancient mantra and sacred sound. HU uplifts, purifies, and helps me stay receptive to divine guidance, which is always available. I sing it while driving, walking, or quietly to myself during a busy day. Through this simple practice, I came to understand my past-life experiences. Ultimately, I was able to work off the karma I had accumulated and step into greater freedom and love—reflected in my life today.

These are the gifts the HU, the Mᴀʜᴀɴᴛᴀ, and the ECK teachings offer to all who are sincere in their search for truth.

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Ready to break free from old recurring patterns and fear? Here are the practices that have consistently worked for me. They can work for anyone who is sincere in wanting to know truth.