Daily, gritty, spiritual inspiration from bestselling 'high heeled guide' author, Alice Grist.
Below is an excerpt from my first book The High Heeled Guide to Enlightenment. It comes from the chapter about life after death and reincarnation. To better explore the subject I went for a past life regression... Little did I know what magicky events awaited me. Here is what happened...
It was my reading of Dr Michael Newton’s books that really set me off wanting to experience past life regression for myself, although it was not something that I actively pursued until sometime after I first read them. A couple of years I was giving them a second reading, when coincidentally a friend asked me to attend Bikram Yoga with her. Bikram is the sweaty kind of yoga done in silly hot conditions. The Bikram Yoga center hired out rooms to all kinds of therapists and I found myself face to face with a leaflet for a young past life regressionist, Ms Lucy Gibbs. As I had been exploring the subject again it occurred to me that this was a great opportunity to indulge in some past life investigation. I was pleased that this would be in familiar surroundings, and I realized that it would be a great compliment to re-reading the books. I embraced this coincidence and figured I would have been a bit mad not to have a go!
I booked myself in and the day approached. I have to be honest and say that I got myself in a real flap in the lead up to my regression. I researched other people’s experiences of past lives and became acutely aware that it was likely that I would see my own past death scene, or maybe even multiple death scenes. As a result I got more and more worked up about the whole event. On the day I arrived early and sat in my car ready to fend off parking attendants who appeared to be loitering with intent. I felt positively anxious, if not a little on the terrified side.
Now I can be a skittish rabbit from time to time, but I had truly gotten myself vexed about this situation. I entered that office like a Playboy bunny fresh from a beach blonde bleach that had soaked too far into the scalp, entered the bloodstream and left me ditzy. There was little that the therapist could do to appease my nerves. She was very nice, and of course she said all the right things, but by this point I was pretty convinced I had died a horrible, traumatic and painful death and it was only a matter of minutes before I relived it in surround sound, Technicolor glory.
As a result of my all-encompassing nerves I honestly believe I was only half hypnotized. I am sure that the therapist earned her money with me, as I was pretty hard work. I was scared to death of death, but the more Lucy tried to relax me, the more I felt my conscious mind kicking into gear. I simply could not shut my mind off in the way I wanted to, and instead of allowing the hypnosis to take over, my busy brain kept coming back in and trying to sabotage any images or thoughts with logic. (That’s got to be the first time anybody has ever referred to my brain as being logical!) I convinced myself I was not hypnotized, I said to myself I was not relaxed, I thought that anything that came into my head I was simply making up to make the hypnotist feel better. It was ridiculous! But in spite of all this, eventually I had some truly interesting experiences.
Due to my Playboy Bunny brain being on overload, I believe that I felt much of the past life regression in my physical body rather than mentally. So whilst my head was listening out for the yoga class next door finishing, or hearing the noise of cars and caught up in listening to police sirens from the city below, my body had slipped into a state of physical hypnosis, and along with some unconscious part of my brain, I was experiencing some odd sensations.
The first physical ‘feeling’ came apparent when Lucy took me back into my mother’s womb. Whilst my thoughts were racing on how silly this all was I did begin to feel a change in my physical body. My tummy seemed to swell and my hands that rested on it felt as though they were rested on a big round belly, rather than my normal (more or less) flat one. I felt a heartbeat intensely and all around me. Lucy asked me how I felt about coming into the world and I experienced a significant pang of anxiety in my solar plexus. I knew then that physically, if not mentally, I was remembering the womb, and that as a baby about to be born I was nervous, worried and anxious – perhaps a reflection of how easily I get into a dither about things now (past life regression included)! Despite this worry about my imminent birth, I did feel an immense sense of joy, wellbeing and a peace, calm and innocence that I cannot remember experiencing before.
We moved from here into trying to view my past life or lives. Again I questioned the images coming to me. Lucy asked me to look at my feet and report back what I was wearing. In my mind’s eye I thought I could see rags on my feet, and disappointed by this I decided to say I saw nothing. I was still fighting the hypnosis and convincing myself that my brain was making it all up. In many respects it does feel like you are making it up, although not purposefully. It is very difficult to accept that the images you see are not planted there by a desire to see something, rather than because they are actual past life memories.
That said if I was making it up it certainly does not explain the bizarre and extremely non-rock ‘n’ roll life I appeared to have had as a nun working in an orphanage. Yes, it‘s true; I was apparently a nun. When I did relax enough to get some images and feelings, I only believed them because they were too damned weird for me to have made up. If I was going to have lived before I was hoping I had been an American Native Indian or at the very least a maid to Cleopatra, something with a bit of ’wow factor’, but no apparently not.
The way I discovered this holy role was again through physical symptoms rather than any obvious mental images. It started in my body, I felt my arms curl in on themselves and one side of my body curve over and become useless. I knew this was peculiar and told Lucy, who explored it more. She asked what was wrong with me, and although I could not name it I felt and knew that I was old, arthritic and tired. She asked me why and the answer that seemed to fall out of my mouth was, ‘too many babies’. But when questioned I knew these babies were not mine; they had been my job. For year upon long year I had looked after other peoples’ very young abandoned babies. I was exhausted from it and my body had become crippled due to the physical demands. I was sad that now after years of being the carer, it was now others who cared for me. I felt useless. I knew that I did not have any friends and that my life had been entirely functional, day in, day out. I did not love babies, nor did I dislike them, I just looked after them. I knew all this without having to be asked, I knew I was frustrated, maybe a little bitter. I knew I had devoted my life to the church, I could feel my background was European, possibly Spanish or French but definitely not British, I knew that my nun’s habit was dull gray in color. I did not really get a decent image or feeling for my death scene, but I believe it was in a bed and that the priest was there, maybe with other nuns, and it was a peaceful, welcome death.
That, in essence, was what I learned from this first past life regression. In many respects it makes some sense. I have always been averse to babies and looked at them as extremely hard and slightly intimidating work. I have not generally been a ‘children’ person, and have in the past sworn that I will never have them. Prior to the past life regression I found babies exhausting and whenever a proud mummy asked me if I wanted to hold her bundle of joy I would cringe inwardly but accept only out of politeness. Even as a child I remember a distinct feeling that I did not want babies, that they were nothing but work and even then I would look at them as little alien beings that might start crying and make me feel on edge.
Since the past life regression I am a lot more relaxed about tiny kiddies, I can appreciate them in a way I certainly did not before the hypnosis. I even occasionally get broody, in spite of my reservations about the work of nappies, vomit and screaming. I see babies now as potential people, rather than as unrelenting graft. I appreciate that having a child might mean being enslaved to it in some respects, but that once the baby phase is over, the real drudgery will be over, and that other phases in the child’s life would commence. My own reluctance to have children has become less hardened. Indeed I may have even considered producing a small brood at some stage myself. This for me was an eye opener and represents personal evidence that past life regression works on some levels.
Some might argue that all regression does is tap into your fears or dislikes and conjures up a story to help, and if this is true then at least it helps. However, it does not explain my intense physical feelings of old age, or why I would tap into a dislike of children and ‘cure it’. My aversion to babies was far from being a crippling phobia or even a true fear. I personally do not believe that I ‘tapped’ into this to help with my mild distaste for infants, I just think that it was an interesting side effect of viewing a life that has clearly had some small impact on my current one.
The strangest and best thing about this experience is yet to come. The day after my past life regression I was seriously aggrieved with myself. I felt I had not relaxed properly and as a result had wasted my time, money and effort on something that I had not fully engaged with. That morning I was taking an unexpected trip to the local supermarket. Marching down one of the aisles I rang my boyfriend close to tears to tell him how frustrated I was with myself. I looked to the side for a second, no doubt distracted by chocolate, as I turned back round, right in front of me stood a little old nun, wearing a grey habit and doing her shopping, trolley and all! I nearly fell over in shock. I had not seen a nun in years, nor have I seen once since. Furthermore, she had simply not been there before I had turned away for that split second. However, on my second glance, she was very much there. She did not look at me, and I did not speak to her. But I left the store feeling that if there has ever been a sign sent to a person then that was most certainly one. It was that experience that proved to me that what I had experienced the day before in past life regression was real and was something I was meant to see. I no longer felt angry with myself for not fully relaxing and I left the supermarket beaming inside, knowing that the little nun had been put there by the grace of god knows what, to show me that there was truth in my experience and that I should be glad. And I was….
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