BOOMBOOM

BOOMBOOM

I rarely have the opportunity to do a “targeted” PsychicGenealogy reading where the person I am reading for has a time period, and perhaps even a specific personality in mind. Such was the case for Kimberly. She had a place, at a specific point in time, and also a particular personality in mind! In addition, she had had a very vivid, short dream to share before the reading began.

In The Dream…

She saw herself as a man in military uniform, in a small building full of communication equipment and an operator. She saw herself, as the soldier, turn away from the equipment officer to go stand in the doorway of the building. He had a coffee mug in his hand. He took what was left in the mug and threw it out on the ground. She remembers that the ground was a red-colored earth, and when the coffee hit the earth, it kicked up a little red dust cloud…That was it.

Upon hearing the dream, my connection to the targeted time, place, and personality, was instantaneous.
‘It’s getting so hot in here,’ I told Kimberly, ‘and kind of crowded.’ We were expecting to meet one guy, but I could feel my room filling up with the energies of many dead beings.

“There are so many!” I heard Kimberly exclaim. She too was aware of the large number of beings in attendance.

“So many…” I repeated. When I turned my head from side to side and looked around, I was seeing into a vast space and realized that the large group filling my room was one of thousands of large groups of dead Vietnam soldiers hunkering down together like big grey-white smoke-rings with dark centers.

The sheer number of these rings was a shock to my system; I felt tightness in my chest and it was hard to breathe.

Suddenly, the rings sent us a message, “We speak as one mind, we inhale and exhale as one.” This was an entire unit of Vietnam/Cambodia Vets, killed all together, at the same time. These were some of the men who dug and lived and died in the tunnels, the red-dirt hellholes of Cambodia – on covert missions.

They had formed themselves into this “Collective.” At the center was the one we were hoping to meet; the man in Kimberly’s dream. They kept him in the center to keep him safe; they were fiercely protective of him, the one they called, “The Heart.”

His name, Kimberly would later intuit, was Dave. But no one called him that – to his men he was, “Boss.” After death, they gave him several nicknames: “BoomBoom,” “Boom,” and “The Heart.” These referred to the way they died – they heard the first blast that hit close by; that was the little Boom. But nobody heard the second one – the one that took them out – the one that had stopped their hearts – the big Boom.

We learned that because of the turmoil surrounding the validity of the Vietnam War, many of our soldiers passed away with deeply conflicted spirits. Some felt stupid – some felt used. They were all disillusioned and depressed, and this was why they were collapsed into the shape of a single, cloudy smoke-ring, hunkered down around a single heart, “BoomBoom,” who was now ready to speak!

He looked over at Kimberly, saying, “That was some pretty shitty coffee, wasn’t it?”

“Really shitty,” she replied casually, speaking to him like they were speaking to themselves, and they were! I was, on the other hand, not so calm and collected; it was a trip to have this happen! No medium required!

“It even looked shitty, didn’t it?” he continued to complain.

“It did,” Kimberly confirmed.

“You made it that morning, Boss.” One of the guys reminded him.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right….” he was clearly amused. They loved to bust him like that and he loved them for doing it. The truth was, that although Dave was their superior, he didn’t feel superior just because he had had the advantage of a better-than-most education. And he didn’t feel special because he had been chosen for leadership training.

However, he did recognize that his advantages in those areas had provided him with experiences and perspectives that not all of them had yet developed. In other words, Dave knew that among this group of guys at least, he was the best man for the job; so that’s what he did. He became their boss, and their heart; and in return, he put them above all else.

His unit became more important to him than the wife he barely knew, and the infant son he had never met. And in the end, the men in his unit became more important than his own life. Dave’s day-in and day-out reality was all about keeping them alive, period. They had really gotten a raw deal in Cambodia; they at the very least deserved to be led by someone who truly cared.

For most of her life, Kimberly had felt a very deep connection to the Vietnam War. She was born with a large hole-shaped birthmark right between her shoulder blades that always seemed significant; perhaps an indication of a past life injury, perhaps from a bullet received during that war. She did countless hours of research, looking for clues to this strong sense of connection. And then she had the dream.

The image of that dry, red dirt splashed up by the wretched coffee led her to research the Cambodian phase of the war effort, which in and of itself was a horror, as well as a revelation. Now, Kimberly knew for sure – that is where they were, that is where they died — where she had been, where she had died.

Boom showed us what happened to him right after the dream’s abrupt ending. After throwing out the coffee, as he turned to go back into the radio bunker, a shell hit nearby and a flaming piece of shrapnel struck him in the back, right between the shoulder blades.

He was taken to the hospital, and although it was a pretty touch-and-go situation, he pulled through. He was informed that as a result of his injury, he would be going back to the states; to his wife and young son. He told us, “But I knew what was coming down the pike.” I wasn’t sure what, exactly, he meant, but I could feel it weighing heavily in his heart. “I just couldn’t let that happen.” He said, with grave conviction.

So, Boom began researching his condition. This became his new, personal, covert mission. He learned exactly what he needed to say, and precisely how he needed to act, to convince the doctors that he was doing remarkably well and that he might, actually, be able to go back to work – back to his men.

The doctors had lab reports, x-rays, etc… and, to be sure, not all the details added up, but Boom was good and he fooled them and soon enough — way too soon in fact — he got back to his unit and back to the task at hand.

His determination was driven by one fact and one fact alone – the message he had received that morning in the radio room was the worst news possible. His unit was being sent, not only back to the combat zone, but also back down into the tunnels. There was no way in hell Boom was going to see them go there under different leadership. He owed them this and he was determined to deliver.

“Hey, Boss, you look like hell!” They all noticed but didn’t want to believe. “So pasty, man!” They tried to joke it off, however, secretly they were nervous, but the comfort in having him back was too strong. Everybody bought into the delusion that he was okay and they got back to work.

“Why did you contact me, Dave,” Kimberly wanted to know, “What do you want me to know?” she asked respectfully.

“You tell me,” Boom replied, “you’re in the future, what do we need to know?”

His question was kind of blunt, and his energy a bit challenging. But he had done his best with these guys, and things were pretty bleak, so his exasperation was perfectly understandable.

I watched Kimberly gather herself together and soon she knew exactly what to say.

“You did NOT die in vain. Over the years, more information has come to light that proves that what you did was important and necessary. You did NOT die in vain.”

As she spoke this deeply moving message, Boom told his men to go towards her energy. “I’m the Heart,” he told them, “but she’s the Fire.” And so, they gathered their smoke-ring around Kimberly.

As they listened, and as each one began to comprehend what she was saying, I saw them morph back into individuals! They were becoming themselves again, and they could see each other as individuals again! They had faces smudged with red dirt, some mixed with blood, and they were in uniform. I watched one guy take a black grease pencil from his pocket. He pulled up his shirt sleeve and twisted his arm around so he could reach the Vietnam tattoo. He scratched out “Vietnam” and wrote “Cambodia” instead.

They were reclaiming their missions as valid and worthy; reclaiming their self respect as soldiers to an appreciative nation, becoming spirited again and whole. They had all died carrying the weight of disgrace on their backs; finally, they were free.

Boom seized the moment, recognizing that now they needed a new mission; a mission that could fill their spirits’ desires to serve, one they could do without reservation.

“Alright you guys, let’s get going!” They snapped to and gave him their full attention. “You see this?” (He was showing them the vision I had seen of all the thousands of Vietnam Vet smoke-ring circles, like it was on a map.) “All of these circles have to be informed. We can’t leave a single group behind. They need to know this truth to be set free and that’s our job. You got it?”

They did. And I saw most of them heading out with enthusiasm and determination. One soldier ran off, so to speak. He just wanted “out” rather than a mission, but eventually he wandered back and met up with those who knew him.

Another, who had always been “the A-hole in the unit,” made some crack about “Now that their fearless leader was in a woman’s body,” etc…. He was mouthing off about the cliché “Boom Boom Room,” when Dave just up and knocked him out! He had never tolerated disrespect towards women before in life, so he certainly wasn’t going to tolerate it after death. The rest of the men laughed so hard! Apparently, the guy was so obnoxious, it was a wonder someone hadn’t punched out his lights a long time ago!

After that, Kimberly and Boom talked a bit more about how their psychic union might impact Kimberly’s personality. Boom was concerned that she might take on some of his habits, “Don’t let my influence get you running your family’s life on military time or make you start ordering people around, because I’ve had enough of that!” He was more interested in experiencing the here and now through Kimberly’s awareness and present life, with kids that could be held and loved. He longed to come to know what their smiles looked like and to learn how to make them feel better when they hurt.

Kimberly had plunged into Dave’s world to find a missing piece of herself – now, he wanted to dive into hers to find the same wholeness. It seems a perfect irony that a lot of this journey began because of a mysterious dark birthmark – and in the end, that hole became a portal to wholeness for so many – so many.

Epilogue:

As it often is with these PsychicGenealogy readings, more information came forward after the original experience:

• I kept receiving flashbacks of the soldier who scratched out “Vietnam” and wrote “Cambodia” on his tattoo. He wanted me to see that upon completion, he had handed the pencil to the soldier on his left, and in succession, each of the other soldiers did the same thing to their tattoos and/or patches.
• When I attempted to jot down the first notes from this reading, I wrote the title as, “BoomBoom.” Noticing that for some reason the first “Boom” was significantly smaller than the second “Boom,” I erased it and tried again. The same thing happened – the first “Boom” was still smaller – like I couldn’t control my own handwriting! I tried once more with the same results, so I asked, ‘What is this about?’ I had the following vision:

I used to stand with Women in Black,
Fridays at noon, in the community I was living.
In the vision, it was one of those days and I saw myself standing, gently playing an American Indian drum, (as was my habit). It was difficult, at first, to play a steady heart beat for a full hour! However, I really wanted to provide that feeling, so I kept at it, and soon enough, I was able to play the steady rhythm. It was also important to me, that I was playing the sound of a true heart beat, rather than that stupid Hollywood version of Indian drumming…
“BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!”

• In a healthy heart, the first beat is softer than the second… “BoomBoom BoomBoom BoomBoom BoomBoom.”

A few hours after this reading, Kimberly’s youngest daughter found a bottle of wine at the supermarket called BOOM BOOM! (And YES! Of course, we did!)

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