Whether you believe in past lives or not, I think that everyone gets a little thrill at the prospect of past-life regression. If nothing else, it's an entertaining little mind-movie, a fascinating way to stretch your imagination muscles. As a small child, I was always the first to suggest a seance or ghost stories at a slumber party. As time went on, I stayed open-minded; although am skeptical by nature, I also believe that there is far more out there than we can possibly conceive of. People who are adamantly closed to the idea of something because they have never experienced it annoy the hell out of me. I've never seen an armadillo, but I'm pretty sure they exist even though one hasn't crossed my path yet. With all this being said, I was excited to take part in a past-life regression last night. At least, at first I was. Now that I have been getting hypnotized on a regular basis, it has become very easy for me to go under. And once I am under, I go deep. So I sat in my office with a friend and listened to a past-life regression CD. As I relaxed, the voice on the CD led me down a long, winding path, and eventually I ended up in a hallway. I chose a door and walked though it.
Now, before I go on, I want to state that I am not sure if this experience was pure imagination, half imagination, or has actual validity. As I said, I am open-minded, but skeptical. I do have a very active imagination, and my visualizations are very clear. All I know is that the vision I had was extremely vivid, like a waking dream...and I was depressed and upset for hours afterward, which doesn't usually happen even when I have a very realistic nightmare.
After I opened the door in the hallway, I walked into a movie theater. It was old, musty, and empty. The carpeting was black and red checkered. The seats were worn and red. I started walking up a long corridor when I noticed a man sitting by himself in one of the seats. He had a heavy face, although he wasn't fat. His features were thick, and he had a longish dirty-blonde mustache, and a large mole on his cheek. I began to feel fearful as I approached him, but I kept walking up toward the front row. As I passed him, I felt a moment of relief, and then as I walked further, I felt him grab the back of my shirt. I can still see it: I was a 12 year old boy, and I was wearing a white polo shirt with a broad gray stripe. I had on khakis and Keds. It was December 11, 1972. And as he grabbed me, I felt something like small punches all over my back. This was him stabbing me repeatedly. I got tired, gave up, and felt myself lifted up, away from it all. As I looked down at myself, my last thought was, "I'm always alone. If I wasn't alone all the time, this wouldn't have happened." My last image, as I floated up out of my body, was of a bright blue garbage can. My leg was inside of it, still wearing the white Ked.
As you can imagine, this freaked me the hell out. In fact, I'm embarrassed to admit that I checked my trunk for hidden murderers before I drove home. You know how you feel when you watch a scary movie, and your senses go into overdrive? I was in high gear last night, I tell you. I checked my shower, under my bed, and the space beneath my kitchen table twice before I was able to relax enough to pour myself a glass of wine. I felt like a little kid looking for closet monsters. In fact, it was the first time in my life that I was relieved about not having lots of extra closet space.
So, what exactly happened last night? I have no idea. I've never done a full regression before, so I didn't know what to expect. I certainly didn't think that it would be such a pants-wetting experience. It very well could have been pure imagination, but why did it turn down such an ugly path? And if it was imagination, why did that feeling of depression and fear stay with me so vividly? What the hell was my subconscious trying to tell me? I'd love to hear back from any of you who have tried regression work and hear what you have to say!