A Personal Past Life Regression

Part Four in a Series on Past Lives

barren woodsI am finishing up this series on past lives with a segment from my personal journal. Past Life therapy can be achieved in several ways. Hypnotherapists offer past-life regression sessions where clients explore their hidden memories. Akashic Records readers access a spiritual dimension where personal histories are maintained under the supervision of the Guardians of the Records. (See articles on Akashic Records). Lately, I’ve been developing the practice of accessing my own Akashic Records, per the book Akashic Records by Ernesto Ortiz.

Some of my sessions have felt more successful than others. Specific questions need to be addressed when entering the Akashic Records. In this case I asked about a particular life-long relationship. I’ve come to realize that my emotional responses to this person have not necessarily made “sense,” based on the personal history of our acquaintance. So I went through the steps to enter the records and asked: What is the source of the confusing emotions I have toward this person?

Here is the past-life regression I experienced:

Eyes closed, I am traveling through a tunnel. I move quickly past people and places. A scene comes into focus. I am with him wandering through cold, snowy woods. Leafless trees all around. Everything is grey and white. We’re dressed in layers of raggedy clothes, fingers exposed above the wrapping of cloth. We’re trying to get away from danger. We walk over logs and debris, directionless, just getting away.

I’m hungry and tired, in shock. Home and family destroyed in the village behind us to war. We are somewhere in Eastern Europe.

We are teenagers, perhaps brother and sister. I’m not sure. We are close. I am immature in my thinking. It’s all seems unfair. I’m miserable and have only one target to blame at the moment and it is him. He should be keeping me warm, finding food, making us safe. We drag along and I resent him more with each step.

We come to the end of the forest. There is an open field. Dry, barren ground with a crust of frozen ice. As I step forward, a shot rings out. A sharp pain explodes in my chest. I am on the ground. I see his face clearly–high cheekbones over a cleft chin. I feel betrayed, like I shouldn’t have trusted him. I die blaming him. I have bitterness and a belief that I couldn’t count on him.

The lessons from the Akashic Guides flow in. He felt terrible watching me die. The situation wasn’t his fault. It was a lesson on the foolishness of war. That lifetime gave me empathy for people in war torn places.

(Some insights came through about my friend that I will not publish here.)

We both need to release the residue of that life. I set him free from the guilt.

After I close the records and open my eyes, the residual pain from the gun shot in my chest continues for nearly half an hour.

These glimpses of other times and other people are fascinating to experience. I am at once the observer and the observed. I occupy a different body, looking down seeing hands and feet that belong to someone else. I can identify with the personality, but it is no longer “me.” In the above scenario, the girl dies with a lasting impression of distrust and feeling she “can’t count on” her friend. In Lois Wetzel’s fascinating book, Akashic Records: Case Studies of Past Lives, she illustrates many times that the last dying impression from a life can leave a “hangover” effect, coloring subsequent lives and relationships, thus creating a karmic tie that must be faced.

An excursion to the Akashic Records or other means of past life therapy can illuminate many of life’s mysteries, including relationships, medical conditions, phobias, talents, obsessions, and more. In the best cases, the revealed knowledge can be liberating and healing.

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