INDIA- Past life regression by Nogani Moore

|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.

INDIA: Siddha Kundalini energy healing by Nogani Moore

The monsoons have well and truly arrived, I’m spending more time sipping tea at cafes and making friends across tables then anything else lately. I allow the rain to wash away any need for urgentcy or to do anything really. For the first time in a long time I am completely relaxed. I have slowed down to a pace where my thoughts are coherent. My mind stops wondering but the clarity brings the bad with the good. While in the stillness, I plunge deep into the pool of my mind and find some pretty nasty stuff. I notice old wounds that I thought had healed hadn’t, I’m thinking about the life I’d lived up until now and start to question every thing about myself.

I purge a stream of tears until I feel space open up inside me, I decide I can fill it with better things. I make room for childish wonder; I giggle more and take in things around me as if I’m seeing them for the first time. The healing process has started, life doesn’t feel as heavy and things just seem to flow. I feel good with how much I’m shifting but can still feel knots inside my stomach I can’t seem to release or access.

But I’m about to cross paths with a special lady; one that would be able to release the knots I can’t reach.

Emma is sitting across from me, she’s beautiful. Her eyes look like an ocean above her cup as she sips on her tea. She’s watching Taiga; her daughter is a spitting image of her in every way. They both dance along the same path in life, living with open hearts and minds to match. Special kind of people that I can’t help but to be drawn to. Our conversation flows while I play with Taiga, we’re talking about what we love in the world. Before long we organize to do a swap of trades. I will take photos for her family and in return Emma will preform an energy healing on me. It feels right and I’m excited by what she tells me about the ritual she’ll be preforming, ancient tradition called ‘Siddha Kundalini’.

A few days after our conversation and I’m heading to the top of the mountain she’s staying. It’s taken me about an hour, all uphill. I’m so high even the flies don’t come up here. The monsoons have made lushness in the valleys denser and more beautiful then I’ve ever seen. I stop to appreciate where I am; I’m in the Himyalan Mountains, walking through the jungle to meet a healer of an ancient practice. I start singing TLC “chasing waterfalls” because I’ve got to do some thing to let out my joy. Places like Emma’s aren’t on any maps and so I’ve felt my way there hoping I’ve listened to the instructions well enough. Thankfully I’ve found it pretty easily and we meet at the bottom of the staircase right on que. The timing seems a bit too perfect; Emma’s sensed me arriving.

I walk in and see a beautiful menagerie of crystals carefully laid out in a pattern. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen and so I stare at it, trying to guess the messages that are hidden inside. I feel instantly calm. We talk about my intentions and I start telling Emma about the knots inside my belly I can’t reach. She understands, lays me down and sends me into a trance.   

For the second time on this trip I am in between worlds. I’m not asleep but not awake in some sort of limbo. I’m being sent back to my childhood; unlocking memories I didn’t know still existed.

I’m 5 years old on a balmy summers night, we have family friends over for a BBQ and I have been playing in the pool with the other kids for hours. I’m in a purple one piece that matches my big sisters, its damp but my eyes feel too heavy to bother getting a towel. The warm air acts as my blanket as I lay down on a soft patch of grass under the stars and let the sound of the crickets drift me to sleep. The smell of the pool is in my hair and I can feel an ant venture over my foot but none of this matters as a kid, I trust the world to look after me and sleep where I fall.

I travel to several other memories, some good and some bad until I hear Emma’s soft voice leading me back. I stay laying for a while, wondering what just happened. I’m confused but immediately notice the knots in my stomach are gone.

Still dazed, I get up slowly and feel like I’m walking on a cloud. Colours look brighter and the world feels like a different place. A better one, and I cant wipe the smile off my face. Its like I’m high, like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders. I try to explain myself to Emma, but there's no need. She understands. Soon after her husband and baby girl arrive home. They invite me to stay for while and we spend the rest of the afternoon sipping cacao, laughing, hugging, walking to hidden waterfalls and learning from each other.

She gifts me a quarts she’s dug up from her home country of Finland, it will serve as a reminder of the journey I went on that day. I gift her these images, another journey we all went on that day.

Thank you Emma, to you and your beautiful family. 


HAMPI: The city of stone by Nogani Moore

The doors of our overnight bus open and we are flooded by a sea of tuk tuk drivers. Men with strange names like 'black widow' fight over us like fresh meat among a pack of vultures. It's 5am, I'm exhausted from staying awake all night & feel too disoriented to deal with this. Lucky I have Marley, she's ahead of Jake and I doing all the negotiations. She grabs me and leads me away before I get swallowed in the pit of bodies.

As we drive through a maze of palm trees, rice fields and Coca-Cola signs I tune in and out of listening to our driver, Shiva. His saying something about the type of tours he offers, there to places I've ever heard of nor care for. Right now I'm too fixated on feeling the wind hit my face, putting much needed life back into my body. 

In the distance I can see large alien like formations, I tune back in long enough to hear Shiva explain these are the mysterious balancing rocks Hampi is famous for. The sun is breaking over the horizon and spilling light over them, painting the stones in a warm ocean of hues. My eyes have locked onto the golden heat wave and I allow its hypnotic beauty to carry me away to a state of bliss. I already know that this memory will stick forever so I take a moment to savour it, I breath in natures perfection through all my senses. I get butterflies in the pit of my belly and immediately decide this place is special. 

By the time we find ourselves a place to rest it's around 7am and I can feel the heat slowly melting my excitement. By twelve, I'm completely depleted and decide the only way to stay cool is a mixture of drinking my body weight of icy water and cold showers. Neither of which help for very long. I start looking forward to nighttime, though it means being eaten alive by bugs its still favourable. 

After a few days of this I finally start to climatise and I'm able to revive the magic I felt apon arriving. This place has awoken something in me, I could be delusional from the heat but I feel the need to explore. We hire bikes and feel invincible as we ride through rocky deserts, finding fresh watering holes to swim in and small villages hidden away in shady valleys.

Each evening we find a new, even better, spot to smoke a little hash and watch the sun melt back under the horizon. Then spend our nights making friends to include in tomorrow's adventures. 

Eventually our body's fill with strength again and our creative juices start flowing. Over a few day period we can't contain our creative urges. I'm not sure what happened, but without speaking a word about it we start to make something we can keep forever. A collection of thoughts and ideas stream out of us. Our way to express all our feelings and show the magic of this place. The film evolves each day until we cant express any more, before we even know what we have done it's completed.

We finish filming and embrace each other, proud to have been able to share this experience with such beautiful souls. We decide on the name 'elemental'. High on life we spend our last night sitting high up on a temple, sipping beer, giggling uncontrollably and reflecting on the adventure we just shared and the magic that we captured.

Feeling a little buzzed the feeling hits me that this is exactly where I'm meant to be, with the people Im meant with. We made Elemental with love and for nothing else but love. Press play.

INDIA: Me, Myself & Everyone Else by Nogani Moore

Another morning and another fly lands on my face to let me know its time to get up. Not the nicest alarm to wake to but for the first time in my life I actually get up the first time it goes off. Marley says "They should be called ‘lands’; all they seem to do is land on our faces, always". As if we have a sign that say’s 'land here, we love it'. Reality is I don’t love it but have grown accustom to it, like many other things in India.

I’m now accustom to old ladies handling cow poo mid conversation, having some one watching over my shoulder every time I pull out my phone or the necessity of having 10 people to do one job. I have learnt to accept the craziness, I enjoy that I always have some thing interesting going on around me.

It’s great entertainment but nothing really surprises me here anymore. An afternoon of people watching consists of a guy with a cow that has a half developed leg growing out its back. He claims the cow to be god and seems to truly believe it. A dog that has his balls growing from his abdomen, that I wish I could unsee, and a bunch of man that are homophobic but stand for hours with there fingers interlaced and arms around each other, hands in each others pockets. The things that shocked me in my first few weeks have come apart of the norm. I’ve learnt that with a population of 1.3 billion anything goes and while it seems crazy and out of control, much of the chaos is organised.

The funny thing is that, in this world full of colour and wild antics, I'm apparently the crazy one. Every time I tell some one where I’m from the response is always the same. “Australian? You guys are crazy!” with an expression that suggests they must have seen Australians do some seriously crazy shit! No one seems to get our sarcasm, I’m often left laughing alone at my jokes, which normally makes me laugh even harder or repeating it as if they’ve just missed the punch line.

Some times these interactions lead nowhere but more often they lead too other interesting topics to connect through other then humour. I've shared and heard stories that have highlighted we are all the same. Regardless of culture, we all face the same problems, we all feel the same emotions and we all know pain & love.

It’s like I’ve been sent here to ignore all the backwardness. To find some patience so I can see the magic and feel the love that’s on offer. Time again and again India takes what I need to learn and throws it in my face. I feel I’m here to learn about love, in all forms. Through the madness and the noises, through all the doubt and fear, I’m slowly learning to feel the love around me.

I have a tattoo that’s now faded and shy with regret.
“love is all around you.
People are only human.”

I got it when I was 17, at that time I felt this was a good reminder I could carry with me forever. Over the years, the meaning faded and I find myself wincing with embarrassment when some one asks me what it says. I always respected why I got it and wanted to feel what I once did but the meaning was lost, until recently. Being able to connect with all these wonderful, interesting, imperfect people, seeing their just like me brought back meaning to the words that permeate my skin. 

Love is all around you; I feel connections with strangers and realise that love isn’t only at home, it’s everywhere. With the man from the jewelry store that happily offered me his chia, the stray on the street that almost did a back flip with joy at any human interaction and the French girl that invited me over to eat with her, all the love I need is around me.

People are only human; We are all crazy bundles of energy doing what we think is right, acting on impulses. Making mistakes and get hurt by others mistakes. We are only human and doing the best we can- so not to be so hard on others or ourselves.

I got this tattoo before life got too real, before it felt too heavy. All this times it’s been here and only now I can see the meaning again, almost 10 years on, it stands as a reminder of who I was and want to be.

Full of love for the moment, not always thinking about my past or my future. I found the greatest gift in myself but I have this place to thank for it. India you make me live in the present & have opened my eyes to what’s always been in front of me, you are my greatest love story.

Chapter one, Love stories. by Nogani Moore


And my story begins,

Wrapped up in excitement, my belly full of knots. I let go of any expectations and booked it. Three months away from work, from home and another frosty Melbourne winter. I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing, but the universe seems to be telling me I am.

Everything feels like its falling into place, even the two days travel it took me to get to India were easy. I'm no Psychic but I can see the signs that are in front of me. The ones that are hidden in the details; like every time I reached the rotation belt after a flight my luggage would be sitting pretty or just when I think I'm lost, someone leads be to where I am supposed to be. Maybe its just luck, but from where I am standing its reinsurance that this is where I'm supposed to be. 

My new environment is vibrate, dull, rich, poor, cultured, futuristic, dated, It's everything I think it is and the opposite too. The diversity has sparked some thing in me and its obvious why the signs have lead me here. LOVE! 

Life was full in Melbourne, I found it hard to find my balance. I would often tell myself I wanted to work more creatively, to work for love, but my reality was that I was consumed by working for money. 

Like many other creatives, I’m most happy when I’m shooting for love. Also, like many other creatives, I forgot to make the time for the personal projects that I find so fulfilling. I was lacking the most important thing, balance. 

I remember now that I wanted to be a story teller, an author with out words, I hoped for my images to touch people. But as time passed, I put this part of myself in a smaller box to allow more room to make more money. Until one day I realised that the last time I shot for love was that of a distance memory, it hit me hard. 

How can I take photos every day & feel so distant?
I realised the need to reconnect, to regain the balance that I've lost. To find my love, bring it back, hold on to it tightly and ever loose it again. 

Suddenly I could see that if nothing changes then nothing changes, so now I’m in India. This is where I'll find some balance and my stories are those only of love. 

With that being said, welcome to my space, this is where I'll be sharing weekly & welcome you to join in my journey. Images of what I think make the world beautiful, stories of all the things that make me feel something.  

This space is where ‘My love stories’ begin…