Past Life Regression: A Review

http://instagram.com/p/o9O3CyBhuF/ Por fin (finally) it’s time to write this.

What: Past Life Regression Therapy Session #1. June, 2014.

Why: I’m curious. And not afraid of the depths of my mind as I once was.

Where: Maha Rose Center for Healing. A great location for learning, and community. I received my Reiki 1 Certification there and recommend it for new field explorers (it’s a friendly and unintimidating place with genuinely kind and educated teachers).

The rest:

The hypnotherapist, Daniel Ryan, and I are the only two in the center on a summer Saturday afternoon. We take to a quiet room in the back and talk briefly over a glass of water. Why am I there? Just curious. For fun. Want to experience this. What do I hope to accomplish? Learning only. No set goal, question or conflict to resolve. Then, let’s begin.

He talks me through to relaxed and then – similar to the guided meditation I’d done previously – we start in my happy place. A haven of my subconscious making, the details of which I won’t share with you but that I can say surprised me in their clarity and beauty. The place is unbound by natural laws, which my mind seemed to know immediately – building landscapes around me, filling in scents and sounds and sensations.

In regression therapy, one progresses through a series of regressions – these are the past lives. Truly, if that is what you believe, or as a model for navigating the subconscious. For two hours, I was consciously experiencing my subconscious – guided by Daniel.

I leave Eden for “the first past life we’ll experience today”.

1. A beach. I’m a barefoot person, alone – looking out to the sea. I want to go in that direction. I say – because it’s escape but then I realize that rather, it’s a destination. It’s opportunity, the unknown and newness. I smell the air (flowers), see some of the scene (huts, boats), but there’s little else. What it means for this life is that “I don’t like to stop moving” (my conscious interpretation).

2. Through a door and I’m split – caught half between a forest and a suburban neighborhood. We retrace and step through the door again and I’m in the forest. I’m a youngish man, responsible and content (I say “complacent”). I work there in the woods, cutting trees. I say that I enjoy the forest. I know it’s all I’ll do with my life, but that’s okay. I am simple.

Daniel asks me if there’s anything else I’d like to see, or should we move on? I say that I’d like to see some people. So, where are they? Up ahead – off to the right. “You know exactly where they are so go to them.” I do and when I see them, my buddies, they’re happy to see me albeit a bit preoccupied by making lunch over a little campfire. I think they call me Joe. I’m really happy to see them. Just to know that they’re my friends. It’s nothing significant – I see them every day – but yes, happy.

I start laughing (in reality – not in my mind – and I get happier and happier. I’m overwhelmed by it. Surprised and grinning and laughing, which now I can’t stop. It feels like the happiest day of my life. Daniel is laughing now too. I don’t know that I have ever, ever felt that happy before. It’s blooming in my chest and face – unmixed, positivity.

He tells me to take it in – enjoy it, let it absorb, and I do and then nearly as suddenly, I’m terrified. Physically cold and scared. (I realize later, as has been a pattern in my life always, that it was the lack of control that scared me. The happiness took over and ironically that made me unhappy and fearful.) Daniel and I analyze the fear – what it looks like, what to do with it. His questions are always for me to ask myself, which I do and then my self answers.

We continue.

3. The third is another life, very different from the first two. I spend some time in it, just walking, and looking around. What I learn from it is that 1. I’d like to have children someday (or so my conscious mind thinks, at the time) and 2. That I’m very strong.

It’s a bit exhausting, the regressions – a lot of mental work. I start to feel it here but don’t want to stop so we return to Eden as my last scene to learn from.

4. There, Daniel suggests we ask for a guide. I do, and receive a little ray of light – an orb like a firefly. I ask the light to take a form so that I might have a conversation with it. It begins – growing into a human shape but without any detail in face or body. I can’t recognize it as familiar or even man or woman. This turns into a playful game. The light lets me poke at it, which creates some more shape, revealing what’s underneath but then quickly returning to anonymity. I try hard to recognize someone but I don’t. I can’t.

And then I realize that it’s me.

“Beautiful. In many ways, your guide will always be a reflection of yourself, Rachelle.”

It is that. A version of me that is more outwardly happy. Laughing and playful. Immediately, my best friend. I am my best friend and it doesn’t make me less happy. I say “It’s good because it let’s me play.” (Conscious utterances aren’t particularly cerebral, if you’ve noticed.)

We are arm-in-arm, the light reflection of myself, in the Garden of Eden. That’s pretty goddamn great.

Daniel asks if I’m ready to go.

I ask if (how) I can bring her with.

He tells me to ask her, so I do.

She wraps herself around me, melts into my body, and becomes a glow that I am and so can take.

I say, “Okay, we’re ready.”

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After the session, we speak a bit more, though not much as the realizations had mostly been had. A few more would come later (I dictated the session as I biked home). I enjoyed the experience so much that I went back to the Center the next day for a several hour group regression session led by Daniel again. In that, I experienced several more lives, all very different and with their own epiphanies.

Daniel complimented my deftness with the therapy. “Good at it” because, he said, “you trust your mind”.

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Maha Rose Center for Healing

Daniel Ryan, CHT, CRT (Hypnotherapist and Regression Therapy)