Women with a mission: Finding purpose through past and present lives

The Psychic Life of Muriel, The Lady Dowding: An Autobiography. Formerly published under the title Beauty Without Cruelty. The Theosophical Publishing House: Wheaton, IL., Madras, London. Quest edition (1981) pp.272, photographic plates. ISBN 0-8356-0564-7.

Bound by Destiny: a past life journey to the present by Kathleen Ross. Balboa Press – A Division of Hay House Books: Bloomington, IN. (2011) pp.288. ISBN 978-1-4525-4271-3. $19.99

These books, published thirty years apart, describe the authors’ quests to discover their destiny and fulfil their life’s purpose. Although Muriel Dowding and Kathleen Ross come from different social and cultural backgrounds they share many beliefs drawn from the Nineteenth and Twentieth Century esoteric traditions. In Muriel Dowding’s case, the influence of Theosophy, Spiritualism and the White Eagle Lodge are acknowledged. As was often the case these sat relatively easily within a broad Christian heritage and background. The notion that we come into this life within a web of relationships that have a past as well as present history, and that we have a particular lesson or lessons to learn and a mission to fulfil in each lifetime, is apparent in both works. There are however marked differences in style. Muriel Dowding (1908-1993) is discrete when it comes to personal details of those other than herself, and while she hints at difficulties and disagreements, in particular opposition to her marriage to Hugh Dowding, she does not name the protagonists. Kathleen Ross’s work, as indicated below, comes more into the ‘tell it all’ category.

Muriel Dowding rather delightfully describes seeing fairies as a child, which ‘seemed to be of a substance similar to that of a soap-bubble; semi-transparent and of beautiful colours. They came in different sizes and during the time my parents lived in London I used to see them in Kensington Gardens’ (p.12). As is so often the case with children with psychic abilities, she did not realise that not everyone saw them. As Muriel’s mother was also psychic and had esoteric interests, Muriel was not ridiculed for the ability to see what she later, through Theosophical studies, came to know as ‘elementals’.

Muriel’s life, while outwardly comfortable, was far from easy or stable. Her parents’ relationship broke up when she was still young and she spent a period in hiding, moving from place to place, until discovered by private detectives paid for by her father. Her mother lost custody of Muriel and her sister, although her sister was allowed to return to their mother due to her poor health. Nominally in her father’s custody, Muriel was brought up by a kindly and well-to-do childless couple their parents had met on holiday. After leaving school she was given the choice to go to finishing school and be presented at court, or to return to her mother and live in relatively humble circumstances. She chose the latter, and claimed that much of what she was and became she owed to her mother.

Muriel was married at an early age to a dashing airman, Max Whiting, somewhat to her own surprise, as since childhood she had had a recurrent dream of an older man who would comfort her nightmares. ‘He was a figure in khaki, a soldier, and somehow I knew his that his name was Hugh’ (p.31). The nightmares she came to believe could have been fragments of earlier lives, and they faded as she grew older, but the soldier in khaki remained with her. From an early age she was convinced that he was to be her husband in this life.

Hugh and Muriel Dowding

Max and Muriel had a son, David, but after nine years of marriage Max, a pilot in bomber command during the Second World War, was declared missing in action. It was the need to achieve some certitude as to whether Max was dead or alive (despite several experiences that told her that he was in fact very much alive, and protecting her, but from the ‘other side’), that led eventually to Muriel’s meeting with Hugh Dowding. A famous and somewhat controversial figure, Dowding had been widowed many years before and had recently retired from the RAF as Air Chief Marshall. From 1936-1940 Hugh Dowding had been in charge of Fighter Command, and it was the brilliance of his tactics that are generally credited with Britain’s outnumbered and outclassed fighter pilots winning the decisive Second World War Battle of Britain. Lord Dowding had become interested in spiritualism as a result of his experiences with the families of missing and killed airmen, and was involved in ‘rescue circles’ that sought to help those who had suffered sudden and violent deaths to move into the spirit world. After reading Dowding’s book, Many Mansions, which set out his views on life after death, Muriel’s father-in-law suggested that Muriel write to him. Lord Dowding invited Muriel to lunch at his London club, and when she first got a chance to look at him properly she realised that ‘He was the person I had known as a little girl, the figure in khaki who calmed me after my nightmares and promised that we would marry… ‘(p.87). Much to her embarrassment she gasped ‘Hugh’, and then retreated embarrassed at her over familiarity. Fortunately Hugh was charmed, and they were eventually united in a deeply compatible and happy marriage.

     Through various mediums, intuitions and circumstances, Muriel was aware of being prepared for some mission or work, but it was only after her marriage to Hugh Dowding, and with his support, that it really came into focus. Her life-long love for animals and espousal of causes such as the Anti-Vivisection Movement led to the development of a company, Beauty Without Cruelty, which aimed to provide positive alternatives to clothes and cosmetics produced through animal cruelty. She travelled and spoke, organised and lobbied, and had a considerable influence on animal welfare nationally and internationally. The book contains several tributes from colleagues and friends, which make it clear the extent to which Muriel overcame her natural shyness, fear of flying, and poor health (following a riding accident in her youth) in order to promote the causes about which she felt so passionately.

Kathleen Ross was born in Canada, and describes herself as ‘one of those ex-flower children who have tried just about everything in the search for that nebulous nirvana’ (p.1). In some respects her search provides a journey through the eclectic religious landscape that has been a feature of Euro-American life for the past half century. The Transcendental Meditation techniques of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, which Ross first learned in 1975, have evidently played an important role in her life. She also admits to having taken up Yoga, absorbed Self-help literature, and taken an interest in psychic phenomena. The starting point for the book is none of these familiar features of modern religiosity. It was past-life regression that unlocked what seemed to be visions and memories of previous lives and, key to the present story, previous loves. To be more precise, a relationship with one lover or soul-mate with whom Kathleen felt she had shared many lives. In some of these past lives they were siblings, or master and apprentice, but in most a similar pattern emerged. Kathleen played the part of relatively powerless, usually female, sexual partner to a man who loved her deeply, but who was unable to fully commit to her. In many lives this was due to a parallel commitment to another woman (or less often a man), who had some kind of hold over him. The narrative of the book interweaves the meeting and struggles of Kathleen and this lover/soul-mate in her current life, with past life encounters involving many of the same characters. In order to identify the dramatis personae they are given the same initial for their first name in each life. The message is that unless we learn to deal with certain patterns of behaviour and tendencies in our character, they will continue to repeat themselves. This is karma not as destiny, but as a force of habit. Understanding the patterns is not enough in itself. It takes determination and courage not to repeat our mistakes in one life after another, and to move forward in a way that it true to our higher self.

The voice of the higher self, given the name Ezekiel by Ross, is expressed through a short excerpt at the beginning of each chapter. Although not stated explicitly, the implication is that Kathleen receives these messages directly rather than through a third party, although the process is not actually described. She is a little vague as to the identity of ‘Ezekiel’, who is described as being possibly an angel, spirit guide or holy spirit, as well as her higher self. The terminology or exact source is clearly less important to Ross than the content of the messages, which often take up themes of personal choice and responsibility, and of life as a school of spiritual development. On page 42, for instance, Ezekiel takes up themes familiar to those who have read Michael Newton’s accounts of Interlife regression (see my review on this website) and other similar sources:

As an evolved human being you decide the journey you are to follow on Earth. Before you enter the physical body, you construct a blueprint for your life. You choose where you will be born, who your parents will be and all the lessons you need to learn. … It is all planned.

I found Bound by Destiny a riveting read, but also voyeuristic at times. Ross’s alcoholic husband and her lover’s possessive wife are not spared in this life or in previous ones. We do not hear their side of the story, and there is none of Muriel Dowding’s polite discretion. It is very much the perspective of Ross herself that dominates. By using diary entries and letters along with a narrative account of her current life, we get deeply personal view, although whether these texts are imaginative narratives or verbatim accounts is not clear. The publicity surrounding the book describes it as ‘a metaphysical novel based on a true story’ and it is left to the reader to decide whether the cast are closer to fictional characters or real people.

The use of past-life stories raises interesting questions as to the boundedness of the individual. For Ross, past life memories (which sometimes appear to be ‘seen’ or shared by others) clearly provide a rich source of material from which to work on her present life dilemmas. The characters are both the same and not the same person. She recognizes emotional patterns that provide a thread through many lives, and which may explain why people so often respond to situations in the ways they do. Whether this knowledge is empowering is less obvious. At an intuitive level, the idea that we respond to some people not just because of common interests, or chemical attraction (or dislike them for similar reasons), but also because of a ‘past history’ strikes me as plausible. We may feel at ease with virtual strangers, or wary of someone for no apparent reason, feel a deep connection with others, or visceral distrust. No doubt there are chemical and other physiological analogues to these reactions, but they can be hard to explain in rational terms. The title of the book may, however, be a little fatalistic to do it justice. We are not bound by our past, whether in this life or past lives. Our future depends on choices made in the present, and there is always room for creativity, agency and new beginnings. As this book itself demonstrates, the past is material with which we work, not a destiny to which we are bound. A determination to work for the good of others and not just for one’s self, as Muriel Dowding’s life so amply illustrates, is probably the surest way to live a fulfilled life without regrets, whatever the struggles and lessons along the way.