“As a man, casting off worn out garments taketh new ones, so the dweller in the body, entereth into ones that are new.”
Having always been interested in past-life experiences, five years ago I attended the Many Lives, Many Masters Online Past-Life Regression Workshop hosted by Dr. Brian Weiss. Dr. Weiss is a highly credible leading practitioner of past-life therapy with a crapload of letters after his name.
I thoroughly enjoyed the day-long event and purchased his at-home CD set, fully committed to continuing the work on my own.
And then promptly forgot about it.
Five years, one divorce and one pandemic later, I come across the dusty CDs. I figure that since there isn’t much going in this particular life, why not explore a past one?
Past-life regression – at least the way Dr. Weiss teaches it – involves getting in touch with who you used to be through a series of guided meditations. I’m going to write about my experiences and share them here because, you may enjoy reading them and what the heck – there’s not much else going on.
My First Regression
In the first regression of the CD set, Dr. Weiss asks us (meaning me on the couch, alone) to meditate our way back into childhood, then in-utero and then finally into a past life.
Dr. Weiss asks us to allow a childhood memory arise and then ask why – out of the bazillions of memories available – that particular one shows up.
Memory: In something I haven’t thought about since it happened decades ago, I see myself at eight years old. I am sitting in a tree with my friend, Cathy. We are in the yard of my after-school babysitter playing with the leaves hanging off the branches and swinging our legs into the air.
Significance: I realize for the first time that Cathy had voluntarily left her home – filled with brothers and sisters – to come hang out with me. Cathy came because she wanted to. I’d spent my childhood feeling unloved, unwanted and worthless. Cathy, and the many other friends I had along the way, had shown me my value and worth and I hadn’t even realized it until I revisited the memory.
In-Utero and Birth
Next Dr. Weiss leads us through our in-womb and after-birth experiences.
Memory: I picture myself in the womb, which isn’t really an image but a sense of darkness. The darkness is neutral, without tension or feeling.
This surprises me. My mom had gotten pregnant with me unexpectedly at 19 years old. My father, unfortunately, was a drug-addicted older man. My mother, in my childhood, was a very unhappy person and I’d always assumed it was my fault and that she secretly blamed me for ruining her life. I had always assumed that my in-womb experience would have been stressful, tense and full of negativity toward me. That didn’t appear to be the case.
Memory: The birth scene surprised me as well. Again, I always assumed that since I’d been unplanned, I’d been unwanted as well. I’d always figured that my birth would be an unhappy occasion for my mom.
In the meditation I saw quite the opposite. I saw my teen-aged mother cooing and cuddling me, marveling at my little mouth and pinched face.
Significance: In both cases, my belief that I had been unwanted and unloved appeared to be false.
Dr. Weiss takes us through the next part of the meditation, which involves leaving the birth memory, going through a door, and into another life.
Memory: The first thing I see are golden fields of what I assume is wheat (what do I know about wheat? In this life, I grew up in Southern California. The only wheat fields I’ve seen are on the plastic bags covering loaves of bread).
An old man’s face appears. He’s wearing overalls, stoic. bearded. At first I think this man is me but then I spot a rotund woman in a pioneer outfit, long-sleeved dress with an apron. She has a round face with brown hair parted in the middle and tucked into a bonnet. I am that woman and that old man is my husband.
And then I’m having sex, with that man, in the barn, on the hay. For real.
DID NOT see that coming.
And I am happy. We are happy in the kind of practical, sensible way that rural people of past times can be, before “soul mates” became a thing like it is today.
Dr. Weiss asks us to fast-forward our memories to end of this life and ask a spiritual guide to visit us so we don’t need to transition alone. I am visited by a red-haired angel who escorts me to my deathbed.
It’s seriously a death bed. I’m lying in a white, high-collared nightgown, looking not much older than I was in the first image. The stoic farmer sits beside me, face grave. He doesn’t want me to go and I don’t want to leave: I am worried the farmer won’t be okay without me, that he’ll be lonely and unable to take care of himself.
The angel tells me my time with him is over and that I have another journey to attend to.
Most importantly, she assures me that he will be fine. The farmer has his own path. This is news to me. I thought I had to stay to make him okay, take care of him and make him happy. That is not the case; I can go, guilt-free.
Significance: All of this translates to my present life, in which I left an older husband to continue the rest of my journey. I still feel tremendous guilt for leaving him. Maybe now I can let my guilt go; my ex-husband has his own path.
So what’s the point of all this?
According to Dr. Weiss, the reason to explore past lives is to heal. According to him – and Buddhist teachings, by the way – is that residual issues from past lives affect our lives today. For example, somebody with unexplained, chronic neck pain could have had his or her head chopped off in the 13th Century – who knows?
What I learned
This is what I got from my first regression: My lifelong beliefs that I am unwanted, worthless and unlovable are incorrect.
I am free to continue my life’s journey without my husband. The belief that I need to stick around and take care of him is incorrect.
Again, whether it’s the mind filling in its own answers or true experiences from past lives, I don’t know. All I know is that this session has helped me and I’ll take it.
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