Peeping into the Past. Or Whereabouts.

I had the most delicious weekend. The sort of weekend that leaves you gooey inside, like molten cheese and chocolate. That reminds you that happiness is really within reach. That there can be wonderful people who can enrich your moments. Who can turn those moments into life.

Among the many moments this weekend provided, one of them that stands out was this time I went for a past-life regression therapy. Yes. You read that right. I have always been interested in the worlds that exist beyond our sight. Somehow it is not what you see, but what is unseen that seems to hold greater wisdom and mystery. Maybe that is why God is so sought after. If he/she/it was just strolling around your garden everyday you wouldn’t want God all that much. If God was available as a number on your mobile phone, then maybe you would hardly call. Maybe we would tell God, “hey, I am driving dude, call later!” But anyway, that is part of the reason I am always attracted to things which I don’t understand. This past life regression center was in the back of beyond. But it being a Sunday, it took just under 40 minutes to reach, and oh, it was a pleasure to drive! The hypno therapist, well, was a rather unsmiling sort. My two friends waited outside, while I went inside to her cabin. She asked me why I would want to regress into a past life. I told her why. That I feel my life has been falling into some bizarre pattern that I feel has some meaning. You can’t keep meeting obnoxious people without a reason, right? She suggested a package that would take at least 6 sessions and includes aura cleansing, chakra cleansing and every detergent you can find for the soul. I demurred on the package. “That is my suggestion,” she said. “However, you can also opt for a single session of past-life regression. But you may not be able to understand some of the emotions and feelings that the past life may evoke in you because you haven’t gone through the steps before. It’s a bit like going straight to the 10th level in school from the 1st level.” I nodded. “But anyway, we can try for this. Many times some people cannot regress or see a past life, and then it is very stressful for me as well for them as they have to pay the money anyway.” I took that not-so-subtle disclaimer in my stride. After all, let’s see where this goes.

I was led to a wonderful comfortable recliner. She asked me to count backwards from 50. Two minutes that took. After that, it was more guided suggestion. I was to see a staircase. 20 steps. At the top of the stairs was a box into which I was to put all my doubts and worries. Then I descend down the steps, on her suggestion. I reach the end. To the left I see a corridor. I walk down it. There is a door. A red door. I push open the door. I see a garden where my mind has wandered thousand of times before. There is a white marble bench. I sit down on the bench. And I am instructed to ask my mind to reveal to me my spirit guides, who are supposed to descend on to my open palms. Really. And then I ask my spirit guides to guide me to a past life where I was successful.

Did I? Well, this is what my mind showed me. A village. A boy in shorts and a dark grey shirt. Peeping out from the house. “Do you see any people?” I was asked. Well, I saw a dark woman, who I think was my Mom in that lifetime. Then an equally dark man, who was my Dad in that lifetime. Move through to the next significant period in your life I was told. Well, I see a funeral pyre. The dark lady crying over the death of the dark man. I remain muted. Unable to cry. Another scene, I am running through the forest. Running like crazy. I am angry. There is a tightness in my chest. Barefoot. I stop, panting, bent over double with the effort. Then I see my wedding – at a temple in the village. I have come back from the city where I went to for my education.  Fast forward to my 40s. I am about to ride a bicycle.  But my thoughts are unhappy. I don’t have children. The dark lady in my life is ill. I feel I have done nothing so far in my life. “Why did your mind choose this life as a successful one?” the therapist asked. “I was the first to go to the city to study,” I replied. “First to build a cement house. First to own a bicycle. I am the only man who can read and write letters in this village.” And then, several years later, I see myself, a wizened old man with a beard. Sitting in front of the cement house he so proudly thought was an accomplishment. The people he knew have left him. He is left with only a young caretaker girl to take care of him. Life indeed has turned. And revealed in the end, a fairly ordinary life. Rich in its detail but sparse in its scope.

So…do you think this was real? I doubt it. I was conscious throughout the session. I don’t think that was correct. There is a thin line between imagination, and subconscious revealings. I feel this was more the outpouring of imagination than an actual regression into a past life. Yet, why did I think of this? Who was the boy I saw? The very accurate details that were rendered in my memory? Hmm. Enough to think about. 🙂

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