|A Past life regression is a technique that uses hypnosis to recover what practitioners believe are memories of past lives or incarnation|
As I’m unraveling the many layers of India, I decide it’s time to start doing some internal peeling back of my own. I want to try something different and lucky for me, different isn’t hard to find here. In the months I’ve been in India I’ve tried lots of new things. Reiki, women’s circles and heart opening workshops to name a few but this time I want to put myself further out of my comfort zone.
After walking several laps around the streets of Bhagsu, reading all the fliers and posters to see what’s on offer, I decide on a past life regression.
A delightful Indian lady with a warm smile greets me at the counter. She says she can do a regression for me in an hour, to bring cash and not to be late. She adds that I need to keep an open mind; she can’t promise anything but I do get to a past life she will be there to guide me through it.
I understand the reasons why she can’t guarantee any thing will happen. I would imagine it’s not the type of thing that can be forced- But 4500 rupees ($90 AUS) is a lot to pay if nothing happens. Nonetheless I book it and come back an hour later with a hand full of cash.
I step into the back room and the delightful lady I had met at the counter has transformed and is now mysterious and deep. Candles are lit and the music is soothing like a heartbeat. Again, she tells me to let go any expectations and reminds me that there is no proof of what I might see is real. Which sounds a bit disappointing but I am here and have already paid so decide to go ahead anyway.
The ritual starts by getting me into a deep guided meditation. “Deeper and deeper” she says as she leads me through hallways and gardens of my subconscious mind. Everything from the real world falls away. I’m in deep. All I can hear is her voice guiding me as if it’s inside my mind, I’m in a trace and this world feels as real as the one I just left.
I’m on a cloud and the mysterious voice tells me its time to get off. Where am I?
At the edge of a large pine forest, I feel afraid and confused. I look down at my hands; they are worked and browned with dirt. From where I’m standing I can see the village where I live, it’s a dusty patch in the distance. The sun is low and illuminating the smoke that is coming from the bonfires in town. I breathe in deep and can smell what seems to be a mixture of mud and a damp freshness form the tress behind me.
I’m wearing a bonnet and pioneer style clothing that looks old, poor and worn. My hair is brown with silky curls. I’m petit and have soft features with piercing green eyes. Wait, what’s that noise? I spin around to find my three kids huddled together behind me and the fear I had felt earlier comes racing back.
My eldest is seven, he has mousey brown hair and when I look into his green eyes I feel as though I’ve met him before in my current life. I’m most connected with him, I feel he is special. My daughter is five; she’s a reflection of me, soft curls and all. My youngest son who is three has darker features, he looks healthier and plumper then the other two.
I still haven’t worked out why I feel so much terror but both my body in this life and my current one are shaking uncontrollably. I feel sick like I want to throw up. I’m staring ahead like I’m waiting for someone to appear, then I see my husband coming from the village.
A voice pops into my head as if I’m reading someone else’s thoughts, the voice isn’t mine nor is the language but I can understand it perfectly “He's going to kill me this time”. His temper is hot and he has a sword in his hand. There’s nowhere else to run so I start begging, crying for him not to do this in front of the kids. The desperation in my voice is disturbingly raw.
The mysterious voice from the real world chimes in to calm me down. It tells me we are going back further now and brings me back to several other pivotal moments from this life. The flashbacks help me understand how I got to this moment in the forest.
My husband thinks I’m an embarrassment. I’m not a good wife and I misbehave, he would often say things like “why cant you change! Why can’t you behave! Why do you make me do this?” after beating me. I talk too much and brought shame to the family. Ladies don’t talk about what I do; ladies don’t talk about ideas and theories. He loves me but can’t understand why I can’t stop being who I am. And apparently this time, he found out I’d been talking, and it’s the straw that broke the camels back.
He’s too hot to cool down or reason with. Blinded with anger, he's close enough now that I can see it in his eyes. It’s now I except my fate and feel calm. One swift action and suddenly I’m on the ground, bleeding out from my stomach. The physical pain is unbearable but the emotional pain is worse. He has the kids, they are crying as he is leading them away. My vision starts to fade and I feel a sadness I’ve never felt before. My kids will never see me again, but it hurts more as I realise I'll never see them.
I am left there, laying with my hands above my head and the rest of my body curled in a fetal position. I'm feeling unloved and discarded like rubbish. I knew that if my body was found, no one would make a fuss, life would go on as normal. The only connection I had with this world now would be through my children’s memories of me, which I knew would eventually fade.
In my current life I’m still deep in traced but hysterical, I’m feeling someone else’s pain and thoughts as if they were my own. The magical voice comes back and again calms me. She's asking me questions that I answer as my soul leaves my body and makes its way toward the light. How old am I? I’m 32. Where am I? I’m in Europe. What year is it? It’s 1856. Clues to understand where I just was, the place I am now leaving.
I climb back on the cloud and slowly back though the levels of my consciousness until I’m aware enough to open my eyes. I am back in my current life and feel a mixture of emotions, I am tired and confused with how to process what I’ve just seen. Was it real? Can we really harbor memories from past lives? Did that really just happen? So many questions answered but now new ones weigh on me.