Whiteman, J H M relives putting on the red dress
Type of Spiritual Experience
All Whiteman's experiences are of woman because he was so desperate to get in touch with his femiine side, so the search criteria on his perceptions was always - 'woman' or 'feminine' , so all his past life experiences are of women.
But they are frustrating in some ways because all he seems to ever get is a short burst of recall, he never lives the experiences through to completion, often because his male ego gets the better of him and starts to tell him that is not what he wanted to be or see.
All I wanted to know from the following experience was what the occasion was that had produced enough emotion to make it a recallable experience.
It hints at fear.
A description of the experience
The Mystical Life – J H M Whiteman
I was in a bedroom where no windows were visible and the light seemed artificial; there was an impression that the room was a basement one, or possibly at ground level. I was standing near a dressing-table with a long mirror, holding in my hands a long dress of a deep red colour (like claret), an oldish woman being alongside, as if ready to tell me what to do. My age seemed to be about 11 or 12 years.
Obediently, I slipped the dress over my head, and the material slipped quickly over me with a strangely significant movement, so that the hem came nearly to my ankles. Then standing just before the dressing-table, I looked in the mirror. Dissatisfied with the appearance of my hair, which was dark and rather short, I fluffed it out at the sides with my fingers, looking at the effect meanwhile in the mirror.
The woman, of whom I was conscious all the time, now drew my attention to the white lace collar of the dress, leaning forward and nearly touching it with her fingers. One side, I could see by looking down, was creased and ruckled up, and I tried to put it straight, without much success. My face in the mirror, as I looked up again, seemed unduly pale; and distracted by this thought, and acting on an irrational impulse, I took up from the dressing-table a small pot that seemed to contain rouge, and tried to put colour on my cheeks. But the effect, as seen in the mirror, was ludicrously botched.
And becoming further displeased both with the conditions and with myself, I was brought back to the physical world.