

John came in because the connection he has with his wife has always felt a bit bigger than the relationship itself. He carries a lot for her emotionally, mentally, practically and stated that he is overly attached to her presence.
He described himself as working in a job that he didn’t enjoy, yet he tolerated it to provide stability, believing that making life easier for his wife was his purpose. Beyond responsibility, John recognized a profound emotional neediness: he craved her constant presence and reassurance, often feeling anxious or incomplete when she was not available. Always worrying, feeling uneasy if she’s gone for too long. When she’s not immediately available, something inside him ramps up, and he’s not sure why. This neediness manifested in subtle ways, such as constantly checking in, preemptively trying to solve her problems, and feeling guilt when he could not meet all expectations.
When John started talking about his day-to-day life, he shared feeling over-responsible, feeling that he consistently prioritized his wife and family’s well-being over his own. Always taking the heavier end of the load, he normally puts himself last without even noticing he’s doing it.
Then there’s the ultra-running. Out of nowhere, he became absolutely obsessed with running 50–100 km races. He said it makes no sense; he has never been like that. That stood out because sudden, unexplained compulsions usually have a deeper root.
His goal for the session was clarity, plain and simple. He wanted to know whether the intensity of his feelings, the neediness, and the sense of over-responsibility were coming from something in this life or was something from another lifetime influencing the way he shows up in this one. He also wanted direction around his purpose, because right now everything in his life was built around carrying other people.
The questions he brought were:
Why do I feel so responsible for her? Why is the attachment so strong? And what is the deal with these extreme runs? He also hoped to gain guidance on living in alignment with his purpose, beyond habitual self-sacrifice.
Session
John immediately sensed a comforting yet intense presence of his Higher Self, describing it as “a steady energy that knows me in ways words cannot touch.” He was first drawn to a past life that felt almost identical in emotional tone to what he deals with now.
He said he recognized her immediately. Not because of her face, but because of the feeling. It was the same connection he feels with his wife now. The same sense that she was his person. Even in that lifetime, he felt protective of her. It wasn’t dramatic or possessive. It was instinct. If she was walking somewhere alone, he noticed. If something felt off, he paid attention.
They lived simply. She would often go out to gather berries not far from where they stayed. It was something she had done many times before. On this particular day, he remembered feeling uneasy when she left. There wasn’t a clear reason. Nothing obvious was wrong. But he didn’t feel settled about it.
After some time passed and she hadn’t returned, the uneasiness turned into concern. He followed the path she usually took. He expected to meet her on the way back. But she wasn’t there. He searched the area where the berries grew. He called her name. He looked for signs that she had wandered off or gotten hurt. There was nothing clear. No struggle. No answers. Just her absence.
He kept searching.
He said he spent forty days looking for her. He walked the same paths over and over. He expanded the search further each time. He barely rested. His mind wouldn’t accept that she was simply gone. The need to find her took over everything else. It wasn’t logical anymore. It was driven by attachment and by guilt. He kept thinking that if he had just gone with her, this wouldn’t have happened.
Eventually, he came back again to the berry bushes. He realized she must have eaten from them. He hadn’t known they were poisonous. In that time, people learned through experience which plants were safe and which weren’t. He understood then that she likely died from the berries.
He described feeling empty after that realization. The searching had given him purpose. Once he understood what probably happened, there was nothing left to do. He felt that he had failed to protect her. That belief stayed strong.
He ate the same berries.He said it wasn’t dramatic or impulsive. It felt like following her. Like closing the gap between them. He lay down not far from where the bushes were and waited as his body weakened.
What stayed with him across lifetimes wasn’t the death itself. It was the unresolved grief. The forty days of searching. The guilt. The belief that if he had just insisted on going with her, he could have prevented it.
In this life, that shows up as strong protectiveness toward his wife and a deep fear of losing her. Not because something is wrong now, but because a part of him still remembers losing her once before.
When he crossed over, he saw her immediately. She told him she had never left him, even though he couldn’t see her physically anymore. That moment explained so much. It made sense why, in this life, even short separations create a spike of anxiety for him. The fear isn’t new, it’s old. It’s wired into him from an experience where he literally lost her.
The ultra-marathons suddenly clicked too. John’s compulsion to run ultra-marathons became clear: “You run these races because your soul is still running after her,” his Higher Self explained. “It’s not the distance; it’s the search. The craving to connect, to find completion, drives you forward physically and emotionally.”
John reflected with awe: “All these long runs, I thought it was obsession, but now I see it’s a need that comes from my soul trying to reunite with hers.”
His Higher Self explained that the running wasn’t random at all. It was the old pattern replaying. In the past life, he ran and searched for days on end. In this life, his soul repeats the motion because that energy was never resolved. He said it hit him immediately—what he thought was just a strange hobby was actually tied to a deeper emotional memory.
John’s Higher Self reassured him that neediness becomes transformative when consciously understood: “Your neediness is not a burden; it’s a sign of how deeply you love. But you are learning now to balance your care with your own life and freedom.” This helped John see that his dependency could be transformed into conscious, loving attention without losing his sense of self.
He also revisited the energetic origin of their bond, and this time, instead of feeling frantic or responsible, he felt calm. He could finally feel the connection without the panic attached to it.
His Higher Self told him, very clearly, “Your neediness makes sense based on what you’ve lived. But you don’t have to operate from fear anymore.” That was the turning point for him. He realized he wasn’t being “too much” or “overly attached”—he was reacting from an old injury. By the end of the session, he could see the difference between loving someone deeply and carrying their entire world on his shoulders. He finally understood where the intensity came from.
As the session wrapped up, John had a completely different view of himself. The emotional dependence, the caretaking, the guilt, the urgency: it all traced back to losing her in that past life. He said, “I honestly thought this was just me being insecure. But it’s not. It’s history.”
Once he understood that, the pressure eased. He realized he didn’t need to hold everything together out of fear. He could still show up fully in the relationship without feeling like one small mistake would cost him everything. The old instinct to “fix, protect, carry, and chase” finally made sense, and that allowed him to let go of it.
We talked about his purpose too. He recognized that he’s not meant to live his life burning himself out emotionally or physically. That pattern only existed because of the past-life trauma. He understood he could love his wife without losing his boundaries, without running himself into the ground, and without taking on more than any one person should.
He also said he finally understood the ultra-running. “It’s not obsession—it’s leftover energy,” he said. And once he saw that, it stopped feeling like something that controlled him.
John’s LBL session helped him understand everything on a much deeper level. He said he felt lighter and more aware, as if everything finally clicked into place. Seeing her again in the afterlife shifted something for him as he now knew that what they share isn’t limited to a physical lifetime. The connection didn’t end before, and it wouldn’t end again. That understanding changed everything for him.
For anyone now learning his story, it shows how strong emotional patterns don’t always start in this lifetime. Sometimes the intensity we carry has deeper roots. When we understand where it comes from, we can choose to stop judging ourselves for it. We respond with more patience and clarity instead of shame. ♥
Kristina Le Claire is an LBL Facilitator in London, Ontario, Canada and sees clients in-person and online worldwide.
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