Soul Life Purpose: Completing Your Jigsaw Puzzle Between Lives

She had all the pieces. She knew this. In her mid-forties, she could look back at her life and see the elements that were supposed to add up to something: a career she was competent at but not passionate about, a relationship that was warm but somehow incomplete, a persistent creative longing she had been managing rather than following, a sense of purpose that felt perpetually just out of reach, like a word she kept almost remembering.

She was not unhappy. She was something more specific than unhappy: she was unfinished. And she had been for long enough that she suspected the feeling was trying to tell her something she hadn’t yet learned to hear.

The LBL session she describes in Memories of the Afterlife (2009) — documented by a certified Newton Institute therapist — gave her what she had been missing: not a new piece, but the image on the box. The one that shows you how the puzzle is supposed to look before you start.

The Soul Plan You Forgot

The therapist reported that the client moved into the between-lives space with unusual ease — as if some part of her had been trying to get there for years and was relieved to finally arrive. What she encountered was not the peaceful, featureless rest that some people expect. It was a context rich with information: the sense of being in the presence of her guides, who had been holding something for her that she had agreed to come back and retrieve.

What they held out to her was the plan. Not metaphorically — she experienced it as something she could perceive, though the perception was not visual in any ordinary sense. More like recognizing, from the other side of forgetting, what she had always known. The shape of what her current life was supposed to accomplish was there, complete and coherent, and she understood immediately — with the clarity that comes before language — how the pieces she had been managing separately were supposed to fit together.

According to Newton’s method, every soul enters each incarnation with a life plan: a set of intentions, lessons, and purposes agreed upon in the between-lives state, with input from guides and the Council of Elders. These plans are not scripts — they do not predetermine every choice. They are more like architectural drawings: structural intentions that constrain the range of meaningful choices without determining which choices will be made.

The plan the client recalled was, in retrospect, obvious. Of course it was. The parts of her life that had felt most real — the creative work she had been doing on weekends in the margins of her actual schedule, the specific people she kept being drawn to help in specific ways, the particular quality of her unease with her current career — were all legible, from the between-lives vantage point, as pieces of a design she had drawn herself.

The Missing Piece She Had Been Looking For

The therapist reported that the client’s most significant discovery in the session was not the overall plan but a specific piece of it she had been unable to locate in ordinary life.

She had known, for years, that something was missing — something that would make the other pieces cohere. She had searched for it in various places: in relationships, in career changes she had considered but not made, in the creative work she kept almost committing to and then pulling back from. The missing piece had the quality of something essential that she could feel the absence of but couldn’t name.

In the between-lives space, she found it. It was specific and quiet and, once she saw it, completely obvious: a form of service involving the creative work she had been keeping in the margins. Not as a hobby, not as a career pivot undertaken for practical reasons, but as the actual shape of the contribution her soul had planned to make.

The client recalled under LBL hypnosis her guides showing her, with what she described as patient amusement at how long it had taken her to find this, exactly how the missing piece connected everything else. The career competence was not incidental — it had built specific skills that the creative work would require. The relationship warmth was not insufficient — it was the foundation from which the more public contribution could be made. The persistent longing had not been a problem. It had been an accurate compass, pointing at exactly the right thing, that she had been second-guessing for fifteen years.

When the Picture Finally Comes Together

According to Newton’s method, the experience of the soul plan in LBL is often described as recognition rather than revelation — not the discovery of something new but the recovery of something known. The soul, in the between-lives state, designed the plan with full understanding of its own developmental needs and capacities. The incarnate self, navigating a physical life without that memory, can spend decades moving toward the plan’s expression without being able to see clearly what it is.

The therapist noted that the client’s relief at finally seeing the picture on the box was profound and somewhat funny. She had been doing the puzzle correctly, she realized. She had been placing pieces in the right locations. She had simply been working without the reference image, which made the process much slower and more anxiety-provoking than it needed to be.

This reframing — from «I have been missing something» to «I have been doing the work without the reference image, and the work has been correct» — changed something significant for the client. The self-criticism she had been directing at her failure to find her purpose dissolved in the recognition that she had been executing it all along. Imperfectly, partially, without full understanding — but in the right direction.

The Pieces That Were Never Wasted

One of the most consoling aspects of the client’s session, the therapist reported, was the between-lives view of the years she had considered wasted. The career she had been competent at but not passionate about had not been a detour. The creative work she had kept in the margins had not been a hobby — it had been, in the soul plan’s logic, exactly where it needed to be while she built the other capacities she would need.

According to Newton’s method, the soul’s plans often include what might look, from inside the life, like detours — periods of apparent irrelevance that are, from the between-lives perspective, essential preparatory phases. The musician who spent years in a demanding corporate environment before returning to music. The therapist who spent a decade in law. The writer who spent years raising children and considers those years lost to the work.

They are not lost. They are building something the work will require. The jigsaw puzzle of a human life rarely has pieces that turn out to be from the wrong puzzle. The problem is usually perspective: the piece that doesn’t seem to fit is waiting for the surrounding pieces to be placed before its position becomes clear.

What This Means for You

If you are living with a version of the feeling this client carried — the sense that your life has all the pieces but they won’t quite cohere into the picture you expected — LBL accounts suggest that the picture may be forming more correctly than your current vantage point allows you to see.

The soul plan is not a test you can fail. It is a living design, made by your own soul in full possession of what you need and what you are capable of. The persistent longing you have been managing rather than following is likely the most accurate piece of guidance you possess. The work you keep almost committing to is probably the thing you actually came here to do.

You do not need an LBL session to begin. But if the unfinished feeling has persisted long enough — if you have spent enough years knowing that something is missing without being able to locate it — the between-lives perspective may offer exactly what she found: not a new piece, but the image on the box.

—

This story was uncovered through LBL therapy. Ready to explore your own? [Find a certified therapist →](https://www.reincarnatiopedia.com/catalog//)