Have We All Been Here Before?

Energy never dies, but is only transformed. What becomes of our energy once our physical bodies can no longer function? Is it on to a final rest after one single lifetime in the body, or do we take on a new shell, like spirit hermit crabs and graduate to a new level of education at schoolhouse Earth? I have to concede to the possibility that perhaps not only does our soul, our life-force, leave our bodies upon death, but it may enter a new body to further progress in our life lessons. One life just doesn’t seem like much time to attain all the wisdom there is in the universe. What if we get more than one chance at trying life on Earth? This seems like a reasonable possibility to me.
Some years ago I was invited to an evening of “past life regression” at the home of a friend. I always take these kind of things with a grain of salt, but I have a very open mind, and I thought it would be interesting.
A young woman with bunches of dark wavy hair and a long, purple, velour dress was holding court when I arrived, doing readings for people in small groups. She touted herself as a past life reader and promised to reveal to each of us, a past life persona.
The person she saw me as in my most recent life was a male. He was a dark, brooding, sort of menacing guy. His name was Jason, and he was a shaman or sorcerer of some kind. It didn't really sound like he was a nice person. She told me that my current life was all about regaining the power I had in that life, but channeling it toward good this time around.
As interesting as the tale of Jason was, I'd been a little disappointed not to hear about a life spent as an American Indian. For reasons I've never understood, I always been deeply interested in Native Americans. I've collected many books on subjects related to American Indians and their culture as well as some recordings of their music. As a child, I liked to play a game with friends that consisted of us living like natives in the woods and performing rituals with sticks, stones and water. Whenever games had a western theme, I would always be the Indian and never the cowgirl. The first pieces of jewelry I ever bought for myself were silver and turquoise made by a native artisan. I prefer them to diamonds.
I've also had a dream in which I am dressed in buckskin clothing and moccasins. In this dream, I'm running for my life across a desolate landscape. I trip and fall, and when I look up at my pursuer, he is raising a tomahawk over me. I've wondered whether this dream could be a traumatic memory of the end of a past life...or then again, maybe it's a just a dream?