Two Hearts, One Soul: My Journey Through Past Lives

Two Hearts, One Soul: My Journey Through Past Lives

by Janet Hoffman Cenzano


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Two Hearts, One Soul: My Journey Through Past Lives by Janet Hoffman Cenzano

Author and Reiki master Janet Hoffman Cenzano knows that everything is connected, and everything happens for a reason. Plagued by strong flashbacks of moments that didn’t exist in her current life, Cenzano was determined to learn the meaning behind her experience. Her search for answers led her to question the origin of her soul. Cenzano uncovered the answers to her questions through past life regression therapy, embarking on a revealing journey of self-discovery.

In this engaging narrative, Cenzano shares the discoveries of her past lives and how they pertain to her current life in vivid detail. Her experience with past life regression revealed not only the meaning behind her flashbacks and moments of déjà vu, but also made clear to her the timeless soul connection between herself and Donnie, her high school sweetheart.

Cenzano was able to tap into her intuitive self and alternative therapies which led her to unlock the mysteries of her soul. She hopes her inspiring story will encourage others to tap into their own inner wisdom so they can access soul connections in their lives, both past and present.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781475974799
Publisher: iUniverse, Incorporated
Publication date: 02/15/2013
Pages: 70
Product dimensions: 5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.15(d)

Read an Excerpt

Two Hearts One Soul

My Journey through Past Lives
By Janet Hoffman Cenzano

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2013 Janet Hoffman Cenzano
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4759-7479-9

Chapter One

Young Love: A Story of Connection

Summer had ended and another school year was beginning. It was 1962, and I had just turned sixteen in July and was entering my junior year. My friends and I were looking forward to attending school games, dances, and special events. This was a special semester for me, as I was enrolled in the driver's education class. I already had my driving permit since July and was fairly good at driving a car with an adult, but I was anxious to drive and be able to go places by myself. When I arrived at the driver's ed class, I met my teacher and the four other students. All of us were anxious to get our licenses, and I knew it would be a good class because everyone got along well.

After a few classes, one of the boys, Donnie, started talking with me. He was about six feet tall, thin, and blond with blue eyes. He was very nice and not as shy as I was, and he did most of the talking at first. He made me feel comfortable, and I knew he felt the same with me. We really didn't know each other because we lived on different ends of the town and went to different elementary and junior high schools, but all the schools in the district merged for high school.

Don and I talked about our other classes and realized we were both in the third period chorus. Third period! That was too early to be singing. At tryouts for chorus, the director decided that I was a second soprano, but that I could reach some of the first soprano notes. Don told me that he was a baritone. He never told me, though, that he sang solos and was singing on a local television show every Friday night. The first time I heard him sing in chorus, his clear, rich voice gave me goose bumps up and down my arms. His voice was familiar to me. Had I ever heard him before? I just stood very still and tried to digest my feelings and thoughts.

Donnie and I became fast, close friends. When we were in the backseat of the driver's ed car observing the other student driver, we had a chance to talk and get to know each other.

As we were talking about our families, I told him that my mom, a dietician at a local middle school, was the best cook ever. He asked me if she cooked Italian food, as it was his favorite. I said of course she did—she's Italian. When I arrived home from school that day, I asked my parents if I could invite Donnie for dinner. My mom asked me questions about him and then said I could invite him for dinner the following week. He could ride home with me on the school bus, and my parents would drive him home. I felt good about him coming onto my turf instead of the other way around.

Don came over for dinner the next week. My mom made a terrific Italian dinner consisting of spaghetti, meatballs, sausage, antipasto, Italian bread, and homemade apple pie. He must have enjoyed the meal because he had two helpings of everything. He stayed awhile, and my parents had the chance to get to know him, too. As an only child, I was close to my parents. They were good-hearted and welcoming people, and it was important to me that they liked Donnie. That evening, as my mom told stories about my childhood and my dad shared information about his work as an accountant, I was delighted that Donnie seemed to fit in so well with my family. Around 9:00 p.m., my mom and I drove him home, and he thanked her for the delicious dinner.

The next day, after class, he told me how much he enjoyed the meal and thanked me for inviting him. He chuckled and asked if he would ever be invited again. He also said that he felt comfortable with my family and that they reminded him of his.

During this semester, Donnie and I started dating. He gave me his jade ring to wear on a chain, so we were officially "going steady." From this point on we did everything and went everywhere together. For me, it felt right being together—like we fit.

Donnie and I discussed our futures, and I knew he would inevitably choose a career in singing. That was his first love, and I fully supported him. He got gigs at local nightclubs and was becoming a well-known singer/ entertainer in upstate New York. He also appeared in local plays and made a name for himself as an actor. My family and I attended his plays, and I always went to the nightclub he was appearing at on Saturday nights. Our parents often went, too. We all enjoyed listening to him.

Because I was conscious of what I looked like, I wore a pretty dress with heels and my long, curly hair up in a French twist. I wanted to look nice for him and for the people we met there. Every time I attended, I sat at the table facing Don. I knew his last song was for me. Afterward, he and I would go to the diner for breakfast.

As time went on, our families became friends, and we frequently had get-togethers. It seemed like we had known each other for a long time, and it was a comfortable relationship for all. We especially liked Donnie's sister, Joy, and her husband, Chuck. During one of our outings, his family told us that they had come from the Netherlands in 1948 and settled in this area because they had family here. Sometimes, when they were talking about their homeland, I would get quick flashes of images relating to what they were saying, such as an image of flat land with hills. I immediately dismissed it as just a fluke, thinking perhaps I had seen a photo or picture of Holland's countryside.

Don often told me I could easily blend in as a Dutch girl, even though I was Italian and German. With my fair coloring, I guess I could. The first time he said this, I had a flash of me in Holland as a young girl wearing a hat, a dress, and wooden shoes, and kneeling by rows of tulips. It felt so real. How weird, I thought. I didn't know anything about Holland! Or did I?

In January 1963, during the second semester of school, Don and I decided to take a personal typing class. We managed to get seats next to one another, and it was fun. He would always comment on how much faster I could type than he could. We both got a chuckle out of that. Before the semester began, we would check out where our classes were located and when and where we could meet up. Because there wasn't much time between classes and we couldn't talk, we would write notes to each other and make after-school plans. He always called me, though, at least once when he arrived home from school. Our big day came in February when we both took our driver's test in icy, snowy weather. Luckily, we both passed. Hooray!

Around that time, Donnie acquired an agent in New York City who was helping him build his singing career. We skipped school a couple of times to drive to New York City so he could meet with her. (By the way, our parents were aware of us not going to school—we were trustworthy teens!) Other times, we went to the city on our school breaks or days off. My parents were nice enough to let us use their car. Sometimes, they even came with us. We all had fun during those trips, walking the New York City streets, shopping, and going to dinner. We packed in a lot for one day. One time we couldn't drive home because we got caught in an unexpected snowstorm and the Thruway was closed. We just made the best of it, stayed over, and drove home the next day.

Chapter Two

Atlantic City: A Fun Time

By summer, Donnie and I were spending a lot of time together, especially now that we were both driving. If Don wanted the car for the day, he would take his father to the market where he worked as a butcher and pick him up at the end of the day. If I wanted to drive, I had to make sure my parents didn't need the car for that day. Finally, Don bought a 1956 Chevy Bel Air. It was a decent car and got us where we wanted to go. All summer long, we rode around town with the windows down and the radio blasting. When we first heard Elvis together, Donnie would roll his eyes and say, "I know he's your favorite, but what about me?" I assured him he was number one with me. For the rest of the summer, every time Elvis's song played, he would roll his eyes, and we would laugh. We had such fun driving around in that Chevy!

Donnie sang to me in private all the time, mostly while riding in the car or alone at his house or mine. We didn't have a special song, but he would always express his feelings with a love song. That summer, Donnie got a lot of singing engagements, so he was occupied most of the time. When he wasn't busy practicing or working, we would steal some time for ourselves. I busied myself with babysitting, as that was what teenage girls did at that time.

Our town had a beautiful outdoor summer theater, which brought in top-class plays like West Side Story and singers such as Tom Jones and Engelbert Humperdinck. For my birthday, Don bought us tickets to see Tab Hunter, one of my favorites. Tab was a well-known actor, singer, and teen idol. Besides all that, he was blond, tanned, and good-looking. I remember debating what I would wear. I decided on a beautiful off-white spaghetti-strap dress, and I put my hair up in a French twist. After the show, Don encouraged me to have a picture taken with Tab, so I got up the courage to ask him for a photo and to tell him that we shared the same birthday. At that point, I was shaking and my knees were knocking, but I did have my picture taken with him. What a terrific evening. Spending a night out with Donnie and meeting Tab Hunter—what else could a girl want? It was the very best birthday.

As September was closing in, Don invited my parents and me to go to the Miss America pageant in Atlantic City, New Jersey, on Labor Day weekend. We drove there on a Friday after my dad finished work, checked into the motel, and dashed out for a night on the boardwalk. What an exciting, fun place. Everything was open until at least midnight. The next day, Donnie and I went on an aerial sightseeing tour of Atlantic City. The scenery was breathtaking. We could see the boardwalk, buildings, the ocean, and the beach. We went back to the motel and told my parents how great the aerial tour was. As we were describing what the pilot pointed out to us, I suddenly had a strong flash of memory of another ocean. But what ocean? I thought. I had never been to the ocean before this trip to Atlantic City, so I was puzzled about feeling such a strong connection. At the time, I shrugged it off and left the motel to enjoy the afternoon on the beach. But images of oceans and lakes began to haunt my dreams. During daylight hours, vivid pictures would flash through my mind of row houses made of brick with big windows and rainy, dreary weather. It was confusing, so I tried to ignore it.

That evening, we all dressed up in semiformal outfits. I wore a turquoise chiffon cocktail dress, with silver earrings and a bracelet. My mom wore a black silk cocktail dress, accessorized with a simple gold chain necklace, a bracelet, and diamond earrings. She looked so beautiful on the arm of my handsome dad in his black tuxedo. We all felt like royalty as we left the motel and headed out to dinner at Captain Starns, a famous seafood restaurant that overlooked the boardwalk and ocean. By the time we arrived at the convention center for the pageant, I was so excited I could barely speak. Our seats were right near the runway, with a perfect view of the beautiful and talented contestants. Of course, we cheered for Miss New York, but Miss Ohio won. I was thrilled to be part of this adventure, especially with Donnie by my side. I was feeling closer to him than ever by now. Our relationship was strong, and I always felt that we could be ourselves with each other.

The next day, Sunday, we went back to the boardwalk and walked around, feeling a little sad that the fabulous weekend was winding down. As Don and I passed a jewelry store, he stopped and looked carefully at the jewelry in the display window. He pulled me inside the store and went immediately to the ring section while I stopped to look at the earrings. A few minutes later, I heard him calling my name.

"Come see," he said, holding up a silver ring with a pearl. "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful!" I felt a surge of incredible happiness when he presented the ring to me. I slipped it over my finger and promised to wear it every day.

As we strolled along the boardwalk again, we passed an artist who was sketching portraits of people. We watched him for a long time and thought that he really captured the person's looks. Don and I decided to have him sketch our portrait. When the artist was finished, we were astonished by its beauty. We gave it to my parents, who loved it and hung it in their living room. Donnie and I took a picture of it, and I carried it in my wallet. I still have the portrait and picture today.

During the summer, I had realized that Donnie and I often had the same thoughts, often saw things the same way, and would say the same thing at the same time and finish each other's sentences. We laughed about it at first, but after awhile I wasn't laughing. I told him we seemed to be on the same wavelength all the time. He agreed. It was like two people with one brain. How could two different people from different walks of life be so similar and familiar? I didn't have an answer and was even more puzzled when we started experiencing many ESP-like moments. All I'd have to do was think about him, and the next thing I knew, the phone would ring, and he was on the other end, telling me he was thinking about me. I tried to think about this as coincidence, but the connection between us became stronger and stronger, and these moments happened all the time. Still, we didn't think much about it then and just believed this made our relationship all the more special.

Chapter Three

New Beginnings: A Change in a Relationship

When our senior year began in September 1963, we weren't in any classes together except chorus. I was thinking about what college I might like to attend and what career to choose. My heart was set on becoming a mortician, but I had overprotective parents, and I knew the career I had hoped for was in jeopardy. They didn't want me to study in another town and talked me out of it. They suggested I choose a college near our town, but those colleges didn't offer the programs I wanted to study. My English and science teachers thought I should go into teaching these subjects, but I felt too shy about standing in front of twenty-five students and teaching them. Don had an idea, though. He said he was thinking about going to Holland to visit family, and if he decided to stay, I could stay with him there and study to become a Dutch/English interpreter. Decisions, decisions! I needed time to make my own decision about where my life was headed, and I wasn't ready to decide just yet. When he mentioned going to Holland, I again felt a funny feeling—almost an eerie, sad feeling. I also had glimpses of myself in Dutch clothing. Was I crazy? Dreaming?

Christmas came, and we were all excited about the holidays. We both planned on spending Christmas Eve and part of Christmas Day with our families. I asked him to come to my house when he could on Christmas Day so we could spend some time together. He bought me the most beautiful gift: a heart with a ruby (my birthstone) necklace. It was stunning and I treasured it. He certainly had good taste. By the way, I still have that necklace.

That winter, he received numerous offers for singing gigs, but he chose the one closest to home. He appeared there most of the winter and was making pretty good money.

In April 1964, Donnie was invited to Holland by his relatives. His uncle got him an audition for a singing part on a late-night show. He was asked to stay in Holland and was assured some jobs. He decided to return to the United States to finish school, but continued to work every show he could to save money for a return trip to Holland. We saw each other often that summer.

Before he returned to Holland in September 1964, he bought me a purple stuffed dog, which we named Van. He told me to put Van on my bed so that every night before I went to sleep, I'd think of him. I remember driving him to the airport so he could fly back to Holland. It was bittersweet. I was happy for him but sad that he was leaving. He tried to be uplifting, but I could see the sadness in his eyes. He talked about coming home for Christmas and all the things we could do when he returned. When he walked to the plane, he never looked back at me because he knew I was crying, as he was, too.


Excerpted from Two Hearts One Soul by Janet Hoffman Cenzano Copyright © 2013 by Janet Hoffman Cenzano. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents


Young Love: A Story of Connection....................1
Atlantic City: A Fun Time....................6
New Beginnings: A Change in a Relationship....................10
Henry: True Love....................14
Transition: Learning to Live Alone....................21
Past Lives: Tapping into My Psychic Abilities....................32
Donnie: Reconnecting with My Soul Mate....................42
Intuition: Everyone Has It....................46

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