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THE TRUTH – Preview

Chapter 1: My Arrival

      My legal name is Paul Edward Halonen. I was born January 12th, 1967 in Sault Ste. Marie Ontario, Canada at 0220 hrs. 
      My actual memories of this life had been reset on March 7th 1970 in Surrey, British Columbia Canada during the major solar eclipse. I can’t say for certain that this was the day of the incident, but it fits my memory of what looked to be a blackout during my time of this physical blackout. I was just three years and two months old at that time; as far as just my physical body was concerned. 
      I had died for a brief moment in time. I left my body and saw below me children on bicycles with one of their back bicycle tires resting on my head. Another child behind that bike was swinging a baseball bat while circling me like a shark.  As quickly as I had left my body I had then returned as I was being resuscitated by the local paramedics or ambulance workers. 
      I can’t really tell you what exactly took place during this time other than waking up in a hospital bed having adult memories of some other time and place. Over the years, after going through one valuable life lesson at a time, I would receive a deeper understanding followed by an unlocking of a memory that would remind me of where I came from. Although these memories were pieces of a great puzzle and this puzzle has taken 55 years to complete one piece and one traumatic life lesson at a time. With every lesson, I would hear a still small voice say patience my son. 
     I can only describe the place within the ethers as a place between the atoms as its most accurate way I could possibly describe it. When my soul left my body, time and space did not exist and atoms were not a part of my spiritual body, yet I was super-conscious with a deep understanding of compassion and love. I actually felt deep compassion for the very children who were beating me up. Since that very day I had a very deep and profound knowing of a real live breathing and loving creator who has always called me his son and who has never left me.        
     My earliest memory of this was more like a dream or a virtual reality experience as I had just been flying through the low terrain between the neighborhood houses similar to a bird swooping down to catch its prey. Instead of catching food, I flew straight into this body which then felt like falling into a wet bag full of raw egg whites. My awareness of my soul became my awareness of my body and it was unpleasant but for a short second. It then was immediately followed by excruciating pain, noises and sensory overloads coming from all directions, but I really didn’t know how long I lay there or how soon before the ambulance arrived. I heard my mother crying and that’s when I blacked out. 
      My parents never really spoke of that day until recently in 2016 after I had a long conversation with my dad reminiscing about places we use to live when I was a still a child. I had an adult mind back then and remembered everything except anything before that day as I wanted to know why all of my memories had been wiped before the age of three. 
      My dad then told me of what he knew of it from the police report. That is all he remembered because he was in the Navy stationed at Esquimalt. According to him, my mother had been drinking and could not give a proper statement to the police. She saw some kids beating me up with a baseball bat and she ran out to pull them off of me. The police charged her with assault and as a result, she spent the next twelve months doing community service for causing harm to another child. 
      From my very first memory though, I felt like I was a giant who shrank down to the size of a bird and then a mouse jumping in through the top of my head. While looking down from above, I saw a few kids on their bikes. One of them running over my head as the others kept circling me like sharks in the ocean. My mother came rushing across the yard to the street corner where I lay unconscious. I never truly knew the complete story because my mother was drunk and my dad was away in the Navy. Neither of them truly knew what actually happened in detail. 
      My father continued to tell me that my mother ran out to try and save me by pulling one of the kids off of me as I lay unconscious and bleeding. He told me that my mother saved my life but in doing so, she ended up having to spend twelve months on probation and do community service because she was charged for harming a child while trying to save my life. 
      Dad thought that all this time that I knew the whole story, but I found out just a few years ago when I asked if he remembered the kids who ran me over me and where we lived near that time. It was the only address I didn’t remember. 
      I didn’t know the details of the baseball bat striking my head, and that I had actually been resuscitated by the paramedics who took some time to revive me. That day that was a real blur to my dad; he wasn’t home when it happened and my mother was drunk and could not get the real story straight. He told me that mom had said my lips turned blue and my face was getting cold. I had believed for some time that I was a walk-in, but I guess you can say that I was to a certain degree. I walked back in to this same body but any previous memories I had, were from another life somewhere else. As I will be explaining later in this book with every death, our memory of it is wiped clean so it can start a new life over from scratch. This is the true evolution of the soul as we become masters of every lifetime and when we wake up, we merge all of the mastery together into the body we are in now. This body then becomes an upgrade so long as you retain your sovereignty and not sell your soul or give up yourself to another master. 
      My real life began on the second day after waking up in St. Paul’s Hospital in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. I can’t say how long I was actually in a coma for and my dad couldn’t be there at the time. He came for short visits but then his memory was not great either. I think it was approximately one or maybe two weeks, but my first real memory was the frequent dreams. They were much worse than the incident. 
      It was my very first lucid dream; it was a very vivid and extremely painful. This one dream quickly became an almost daily reoccurring dream for the next six years to follow. The only people who can truly relate to this kind of dream are those who have experienced the loss of a spouse. Not the loss of a child or family member but of a spouse. These dreams are specific and have a special level of connection because when one loses a spouse, the dreams are of daily activities of romance within the bedroom etc. It is as if it is your daily life, the tragedy is waking up with the reality that they are not there and so you die inside every morning from that reality. 
      In my dream I was frantically searching for my long lost wife named Karrie. It was only a few short days lying in my hospital bed and feeling so distraught over searching for my long lost wife. The intense heartbreak hurt so much that I don’t even remember the actual physical pain I was in. I silently cried every morning when I woke up, and every night I wanted to go to sleep early to continue my search. I truly believed that I would find her. 
     The hospital room had a very strong smell of cigarettes and stale air but nothing fazed me at all. All I could do was stare through the doorway watching the nurses walk by wearing their nun habits. Here I was, a three year old boy who was mourning the loss of his long lost wife. The nurses came to try and comfort me and thought maybe I was still in pain from the concussion but the true reality was that I had a broken heart. I had memories of my previous life and I did not really feel like I was a child at all.
      I could never say much about any these things to my parents. I was only a child and really all my mother could say to me was it’s all a bad dream.  How could my dreams be so real and so vivid with such detail including the touch and the smells? I knew within myself that it wasn’t just a dream, but I could never prove it. At three years old, I had the mind of an adult. From the very beginning, I was able to remember street names, places, addresses and even many car makes and models. I paid attention to my surroundings. 
      It was almost as if I had to learn how to be a child. I had a difficult time with imaginary play but I took to coloring books, crayons and cartoons which took up 90% of my attention. On the second day of waking up in my hospital bed, I was feeling energetic enough to leave my bed. Upon waking up, I quickly seemed to forget about my pain as my curiosity quickly kicked in; filling up with new excitement of seeing a new roommate in the bed across form mine. Standing up on my bed; I tried to get a peek over my railing, I saw a boy about my age sleeping in the bed across from me. I wanted to go see him, so I climbed up and over my railing, slipped onto the floor and jumped up onto the side of his bed. Climbing right on top of him, and began waking him up by sitting on his legs and gently shook him. He tried to sit up, but I was still on him. I asked, “What’s your name?” “Michael!” “So what’s yours?”  I said, “Um” and then the nurse came in the room. “Paul!” What are you doing on Michael’s bed?” “He’s not well; you should go play on your bed!” So she lifted me out and put me down on my bed. Later that evening I climbed up on his bed again and we shared a coloring book and crayons while he talked about his illness called leukemia. I wanted to stay and play with my new friend but I ended up going home the very next day. It wasn’t for another four years that I would finally meet him again. 
     The dreams continued without end and never seemed to get any better. It wasn’t like a same reoccurring dream however, these dreams were consistent in the fact that I was looking for my wife Karrie and asking everyone in my dream if they knew where she was. Every dream was different. I would be in a different time and or place but always carrying a picture asking people if they had seen my wife; her name was Karrie. I would go to sleep as an older man but wake up as a child.I had been frantically searching for my long lost wife. 
      This kept waking me in my sleep continuously for the next six years. Every time it would hit me like a ton of bricks; it would make me gasping for air upon waking and covered in sweat. It could only be described as if I had a bulldozer sitting on my chest. It felt as if my heart had been shattered into a million pieces. I would remain quiet for the remainder of the day after waking from those dreams trying to make sense of it all. My three year old brain wasn’t ready for this kind of input but my billion year old soul knew exactly what it was. 
      So I had entered into this life holding on to trauma of my past life or very recent life right before my arrival here. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy and I certainly wasn’t prepared to arrive into such a battered body either. These dreams continued almost every night over the next three years until one day shortly after my sixth birthday. When in my dream, I finally had found her walking with her friends next to a park. I was so overjoyed and held her close. This was a very memorable reunion; to this day I would never ever forget. We were riding in a horse and buggy together. 
      She had long dark hair and a small slender face, small figure with large piercing brown eyes. Although I had carried her picture with me in all of my dreams, I was never able to view it myself for some reason. It would become distorted every time that I tried. So I spent the next few dreams for roughly two weeks with her and then she had to say goodbye. She said we will be together soon but she had to go. After that, I finally stopped looking and knew in my heart I would someday be reunited. I guess my thought was that she would somehow forget me.
      I always remained quiet and reserved as a child. I always preferred to be by myself always daydreaming and wondering where I was really, as this world always seemed so unreal to me and distant to some degree. 
CHAPTER 2: My Siblings

      I wasn’t the only child in my family; I had one younger brother Steven and an older sister Lisa. Lisa was three years older and was much more to me than a sister; she was my guardian angel! My brother on the other hand was my greatest antagonist. He had always challenged me which has taught me allot of patience and tolerance. Although growing up, we could never seem to stop fighting with each other. Sometimes I wish things could have been different. Right before my mother took this picture my brother pinched me extremely hard and drew blood; I still have the scar. This was the very day I met him for the first time. Before this day, I have no other memories of him or my sister other than the 8mm movie reels that my father kept of us growing up in Prince Rupert.

My brother and sister

My brother Steven and sister Lisa

      This picture of my brother was taken when I had come home from the hospital. My first memory of him was engraved within my mind. I think this has caused a lot of unnecessary hurt and rivalry between us. This is a day I had always wished would go away. I am mentioning this here because I love my brother very much and I do forgive him for that day. Since that day, we continuously fought nonstop. I believe this is where it all started with us and I wish I could take it all back. 
      The days that we didn’t actually fight were rare but in a strange way we still loved each other. We would never really be able to stay in each other’s company for very long. My brother in this case has been a great teacher because if it wasn’t for him, I probably would not have found the strength or compassion to endure and do some of the things that I have done in my life. He is brave and has compassion within him; however he has never been understood and doesn’t let anyone in. I would like to understand him, but I won’t pressure him to open up. I love him very much and I am very sorry for all the years I had fought against him. I hope he will see that his big brother loves him. 
      Before, I use to see him as a karmic mirror. I would do much of the opposite of what he was doing and so this caused us to grow very far apart. I look back at it now as me not being there for my brother and so I have abandoned him. This pains me and to this day he resents me and I am not sure if it is too late. His bitterness against me is justified but now I don’t know if I can ever reverse the damage that was done. I should have stood up for him, but many times I turned my back or ignored him when he wanted to spend time with me or talk to me. Anyway, back to my story. 
      Approximately one year later in the spring of 1971 during a transition process of moving into our new home on Turner Street in Burnaby, BC, my father brought Lisa, Steven and I to our Grandmother’s house to be looked after while my mother was packing up all of her belongings to move back to Sault Ste. Marie Ontario to go back and live next to her parents. My mother comes from a very big French Canadian family who are mostly Catholic. 
      My parents could no longer live together any more since my father had been away in the Navy and my mother’s infidelity had caught up to her. My dad had known from the beginning that mom was cheating on him, but he continued to love her anyway and he stayed because he hoped some day she would change. He continued to try and make it work, but it wasn’t until my mother began to drink much more heavily and had become extremely addicted to Valium which at one point could have ended up in tragedy as a small electrical short caused our old drier in the basement on Charles Street to catch fire. We were lucky thanks to the quick thinking of my then six year old sister Lisa to get us out of the house to safety as we watched our next door neighbor’s Mr. & Mrs. Brown’s only son and one of my mother’s “special friend” put out the electrical fire with the back yard hose. This could have also become a disaster but it didn’t and the fire was put out before the firemen arrived. 
      The fire itself was not anyone’s fault since it was an electrical fire in the basement in behind the old drier, but my mother was not around to wake us up. To this day, my suspicion was she was next door or around the block visiting another man who at that time were one of my many uncles my father didn’t know about. If it wasn’t for my sister Lisa’s quick thinking that got us all out of
the house in time and running next door for help, I would not be here today to write this book. This however was the straw that broke the Camels’ back and my dad asked my mom for a divorce. 
       Soon after this, I landed myself back into the hospital once again when I began jumping on the bed. On the second attempt after landing on the floor feet first, I hopped back up and lost my balance and fell forward hitting my left temple on the corner of the large oak dresser. Splitting my head open my mother called the ambulance and it felt like she was running warm water over my head.
At least that is what it felt like but in reality it was my blood running down my face. She had gotten a damp cloth and held it there until the ambulance arrived. I soon found myself back in that familiar place with the smell of St. Paul’s Hospital room but this time decided to stay in my bed. I believe I was only in the hospital for maybe two or three day’s tops, but when I arrived home; I noticed my parents were fighting. I kept quiet and Lisa came and comforted us. 
      Eventually their constant fighting became way too much for my dad to handle and my mother decided moved back to Ontario with her parents and tried to have my father charged with assault by claiming to threaten us with a gun. This however was untrue as my memory was sharp during those years. My father never pointed a gun at us. He would clean it in the basement away from everyone and he stored it in a safe place.

CHAPTER 3: Angels/Aliens & the Messiah

       All of us siblings were born in Sault Ste. Marie Ontario but we were never there long enough to remember any of it. In 1968 after my brother was born, we went to stay in Prince Rupert British Columbia where my father went to work at the old fishing cannery on the docks where we also lived which today it has become a museum. 

Prince Rupert BC Fishing Canary

It was shortly after that when we moved to Surrey BC where I had died and come back with my past life memories. 
      As my parents were fighting, they decided to separate in 1971. My Grandmother and my aunt Paivi had looked after the three us for a few weeks to keep us safe while my dad looked for a new home. He didn’t know that my mother was planning on kidnapping us to bring us back to Ontario with her. One Sunday morning my aunt decided to take me out to church while Lisa wanted to help Grandmother bake and Steven wanted to stay and play with the toys. My parents had never gone to church, so this was a new experience for me. We took a 10 cent transit to the First Baptist Church on Burrard Ave. Vancouver, BC which was built in 1911. 

                 Steven, Paivi and I

First Baptist Church Vancouver, BC

      As soon as I went into the front doors with my Aunt, I was greeted by a lady who had then taken me around to the back while my aunt stayed in the main building. We went around into another room where there were many other children my age sitting at tables with copies of coloring book pages and boxes of crayons. This was my element since I loved to color and draw. I always would sooner color than play with toys which was the opposite for my brother. He would color but after one minute he had to go play with his toys and constantly bug me to play with him until I would finally give in! 
      The picture on that page that I received had caused a mighty whirlwind of deep emotions I could never explain. I felt an overwhelming happy yet also sadness as I saw this man standing in a robe holding out his hand in such a way that reminded me of someone I had once known long ago. Although his face looked different, his clothes and demeanor and words brought me back to that place; a memory of a far distant past as if it was happening in the present. I felt his strong hand on my shoulder and a deep peace and warm shiver up my spine while I sat in a trance staring at this picture. I didn’t color it; instead I just stared at it the whole time. While everyone was coloring, the same woman who brought me inside had begun telling us that this is the Son of God who had saved everyone. Even the little children! 
      She spoke of the baby Jesus and the three wise men.  Saying that Jesus was Son of god who was born in a manger and then talked about him growing up as a child being obedient to his parents. 
      As soon as she said that, I somehow felt inside that she didn’t know him, because the way she had been describing him was not how I remembered. How could I know? I was only four. How could I know this so vividly and know exactly who she was talking about? This was my first time in a church and the first time I heard of the Son of God. How could I have these memories about that time if they were not my own? I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this person she was talking about would go somewhere by himself to be alone. His parents eventually stopped looking for him and his siblings thought he was weird. He always would go off to meditate and not come home for hours. How would I know this? I knew they were not always listening to him; he had a very strong mind of his own and put his heavenly father first. 
      How could I as a three year old know this? I just knew that he would often spend time alone in meditation or (daydreaming) and I seemed to have such a deep understanding of him yet at that moment in front of me he was just a coloring book character. How could I have known his childhood so well? These memories came flooding in as if it were something that happened just yesterday. It was the way he stood and held out his hand to show the way as if to say, “Come with me!”

Similar image to what I was given

    Right after church I looked up into the sky and saw a bright light slowly moving as I walked. It reminded me of the light the woman was describing the three wise men saw. But this wasn’t a star, nor was it the sun. I didn’t think much of it then, but I continued to daydream which I did a lot back then. I started to feel the hair on the back of my neck stiffen as a peaceful calming and warm shiver moved up and down my the base of my spine to the tip of my head and back like a steady flow of energy. 
      After getting on the bus with Paivi, we went just a couple short blocks before we arrived on Granville Street to transfer onto another bus. When we arrived at the next bus stop, we got off and waited. It was a very quiet corner and there were nobody else around but my auntie and I. Again I began feeling that wonderful feeling of warmth grow stronger and stronger by the second, and suddenly it became extremely intense. I didn’t see anyone coming, but I felt the presence and that’s when I received a tap on my shoulder from behind me. 
      Here I was face to face with a beautiful angel. I stood there in awe by the immense beauty radiating out of this little girls smile and face. She was emitting such love with real sincerity like no other and had a beautiful smell that I could not describe to this day. “Hi Paul!” kissing me on the cheek. “Want a candy?” she asked. I couldn’t speak I was so happy I was almost in tears. I held out my hand to receive the candy and her touch and smell felt very familiar. It felt like a long lost reunion, but I couldn’t remember where from. I felt that I knew her though; I took the candy as she gave me another kiss and a big warm hug saying, “I love you and were watching over you; be well!”
      Suddenly a very tall dark haired lady around my aunt’s age in her twenties was standing directly behind the girl. She was so tall that she looked to be as tall as the bus and she had even more of a radiant smile as well. For some strange reason I felt the same feelings I would get while sitting on my mother’s lap. The lady said “Come on ***** (I didn’t hear her name) it’s time to go.” I felt a rush of love move up and down throughout my whole being. It was like I was being hugged by all of the angels in Haven at once. My aunt then looked back as I took off the wrapper from my candy. “Where did you get that candy?” She asked while she was paying the driver the 10 cent fare. I turned to point to the girl behind me but she and her mother were gone. They seemed to just vanish into thin air before my very eyes. Paivi turned around and saw nobody in sight. By this time the candy had already entered my mouth and she let me keep it because she heard me unwrap it so it must be clean. She had suspected I picked it off the ground. 
      We got on the bus and I took the second window seat to the left. I was looking all around but could not see her or her mother anywhere in sight. Suddenly something told me to look up and as I did, I saw the same moving light in the sky which then turned into a silvery shiny disk shaped object floating about 100 feet directly above us. 

Ship similar to what I saw (7 meters)

      I didn’t say anything to my aunt, I just stared and watched it rise and disappear into the cloudless bright blue sky. During the rest of the bus ride, I began feeling a sadness like I did when my mom left for Ontario. I didn’t really know this person and I wish I had gotten her name. However she knew me and said she was watching over me. Every time I think of her, I would feel her presence, love and warmth deep within my heart. Staring into the sky, I spent the next twenty minutes on the bus ride going into a deep daydream as I always do. Looking back at it today, you can say this was my form of deep meditation that was my natural instinct. I always began with clearing the chatter within my mind through a form of de-focus as if going into a type of trance yet still being aware of my surroundings; well, sometimes. I would often stare at an image and completely relax my eyes. I began this particular daydream by make believing that I was with this character on the paper I was holding in front of me. I studied the image and make believed that I was with him sitting in a field talking with the other kids playing and running as I pondered on his image. 
      When we finally arrived at my Grandma’s house, I headed straight into my room and took out the folded picture from my pocket. Laying it out onto the bed, I stared at it and wishing for that time in history to come true. Then there was once again that strong gentle hand on my shoulder. There was now a very strong presence in my room and I could literally see in my mind’s eye that it was him.
I spoke out loud saying, “Will you be my friend?” Immediately my room lit up like a giant flood light. It was already bright outside and my curtains were open, so it was very bright to begin with, but at that moment love filled the room and the feeling I had while on the bus had intensified to 1000 fold. I felt I had known him forever and that I also have known God the father as well in such a way that nobody could ever teach me otherwise or convince me that God doesn't exist.
      I saw his angelic presence light up my room with a bright golden light and heard a voice coming from within me saying “Of course!” I can truly say that he has never ever left my side from that day forward. 

(Exactly like this but a “golden” light)

      Spirit and mind to me was always one in the same, but it was my mind that continued to separate itself from my own body over time. I never forgot his presence and when I am in a low place in my life, I call on my friend. Invisible to the naked eye, but clearly seen (understood) within my mind. I felt connected as if I am literally tethered to his side like a brother and friend with a special bond that could never be broken. 
      My brother and sister at the time had a very difficult experience having to be separated from our mother. It was for me as well, but because now I had this new direct connection with the Son of God, I did not cry or get upset so much. My connection to my mother was strong and I missed her all the time, but when I would begin to cry, the pain would seem to vanish just as quickly as it came. I would often feel my mother’s thoughts from far away and could sense when she was thinking about me. Usually at the time I would feel her she would call us. 
      It wasn’t long before my dad found us a new home near the PNE in Burnaby BC near Vancouver. I had now just turned five and my dad brought us to our new home with a fireplace and a basement that opened up from a hatch in the floor. We all arrived to our new home with sleeping bags and no furniture. When we arrived, my dad held us all up close and then broke down crying. He told us he loved us and that we will all be ok. I knew we would.

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