In part one, I wrote about young Robert in Wales around 1351. The next two lives I experienced were not in chronological order. I am presenting them to you in the same order I experienced them.
Second Regression: Mediterranean, perhaps Greece, circa 1700s
I can see many boats similar to the canal boats so common in places like Venice. There are also many smaller fishing boats. There is a sandy aspect to the sweeping shoreline and there are many square, low buildings I believe are made of clay. They are yellowish or perhaps tan in color.
The ocean is prevalent throughout this regression and it seems to be warm and sunny most of the time. The ocean has a light blue tint speaking to me of warmer waters than what we have here in the Pacific Northwest. In the distance, I can see a sandy shoreline that leads into hills or small mountains sprinkled with sparse vegetation. The name of the town I am in sounds something like Samadory.
The mood is forever festive. People here are always happy and singing. Everyone works and leads productive lives but life seems to be one big party that moves from one day to the next.
My name is Vincent. All I know of my last name is that it starts with a “Ka” sound. I am a wanderer in these lands, going from place to place writing poetry and stories. Perhaps I am a bard of sorts. As I travel, I am always trying to help people as best I can: farming, building, fishing and happily taking whatever is offered in return: a place to stay, some wine and food for my belly!
I have no immediate family but I feel that all of the people I know are good friends. Indeed, they are my family and they consider me a part of theirs. I believe that I was loved and welcomed by all.
Then there is a very strong visual of a distant but spectacular volcanic eruption. This was a very powerful impression. The volcano has a broad base and is a black or very dark grey smaller mountain. The enormous eruption jettisons glowing rocks in every direction and produces a massive cloud. As we are far away from the volcano, the people I am with are not hurt but it is as if the volcano brings an end to innocence. The people are very sad and very concerned for distant friends and relatives.
I believe that I die sitting on a dark cobblestone street in between some old buildings, perhaps in an alleyway; a very content old man whose skin is well tanned and wrinkled with many upturned happy lines. I think I was eating some fish, enjoying the warmth of the sun and then fell asleep one last time.
My sense is that the lesson I learned was to enjoy life and not take things so seriously. To help when I could and to be grateful for whatever I received.
The overall color of this life was a sunny orange, gold, or warm yellow.
As a child, I remember doodling erupting volcanoes quite often. I don’t know why I did but it is interesting to me as I think about Vincent and what a tremendous impact that event had on his life. I write poetry and lyrics, play the guitar and sing. I have never been to the Mediterranean in this life but I have always loved old boats and paintings of them, especially those involving fishing which have always whispered something to me that I can’t quite hear. As well, I love to help people; indeed, I love to interact and telling stories has always been something I do, some of my friends might say to excess! I have many friends and I consider myself quite fortunate in that regard.
Third Regression: Inland Europe, Perhaps France, circa 1500s
I believe I was a young orphan girl who never knew her family. As a child, I enjoyed playing with chickens, ducks and pigs in a peaceful place that was very green and had many beautiful trees. The countryside was dense with vegetation and there were many rolling hills.
The name of the village is pronounced De-Moyne or De-Moy-En… something like that. I do not know my name.
I became a nun and was in a church or an abbey that had huge spires with amazing stained glass on the walls and frescos on some of the ceilings. It was a very amazing place. I also had a strong impression of a large inner courtyard where I spent many happy and productive hours. It had tall brown walls made of brick or brown stones and the ground was sand or dirt.
I spent my life in the service of others giving freely of myself to the sick, the homeless and anyone in need. I had a definite feeling that this was not servitude, but rather service given freely and happily. I felt as though I was doing what I was made to do. I was fulfilled in every way.
I died very suddenly while still very young, perhaps in my early to mid-20s. I fell. I had the impression of horses pulling carts up a steep incline, then the chaos of tumbling down a steep hill, then tree roots, confusion, then darkness.
My sense is that when I died, I was mystified as to why I had died right then. It was almost as if it wasn’t yet my time to go. I wondered; what was that all about, I was helping others and I felt complete in what I did, then I die? Why? What was it for? What was the point?
The overall color of this life was a deep lush green, like dark green moss.
At the end of this regression, Heather asked my spirit if there was more to see. I replied, “yes, but not today”.
I find it fascinating that in each of these lives, I had no immediate family where as in this life, I have a very strong, loving and nurturing family. Perhaps I was unable to learn in my life as a nun the lessons that Vincent learned. Perhaps the lives were presented to me out of order to see if I now understand that particular lesson. Of the three lives experienced that day this one seemed abrupt and very much like an unfinished symphony. I am not sure what to make of it. I do know that I was very happy and fulfilled in this life.
When Heather Carlini hypnotized me, I really did not think I was hypnotized. I remember lying there with my eyes closed listening to her guide me and thinking I could open my eyes at any time. I walked into this with a very open mind and now found myself lying there with a certain degree if skepticism. When Heather brought me out of hypnosis, I thought that perhaps 15 minutes had passed. In fact, it was closer to one and a half hours! I should point out that Heather Carlini was very respectful of mind and spirit. It was easy to trust her and I would encourage you to look her up should you ever feel you would like to explore your own past, be it in this life or past lives.
The images and impressions I had were not what I expected. I had read about people having past life regressions and the way they described them is more akin to watching a movie. I have since read more about this and understand now that we all experience these things quite differently.
Was it really past lives that I experienced? I was unsure. As I have researched these places and time frames, it has become even more fascinating to me.
I concede, as my good friend Eric has pointed out, that it could just be my mind constructing events to help me better understand who I am. The mind is after all very powerful and very creative.
It could also be that our lives leave an imprint on the universe, like a record of our lives on an infinite hard drive called the cosmos. Perhaps under the right circumstance, we can somehow read this data. This falls into the world of quantum physics.
Yet another possibility is that while we perceive time sequentially, time really is not sequential. If that is true, then everything is happening at once. Perhaps we are able to tune into the minds or spirits of others who reside in what we think of as the past but in fact exist at the same moment we do.
So, were my experiences that day really past lives? As I have thought on it over the last six years, and weighed it against some other powerful spiritual experiences I have had in my life, I have come to a place where I gravitate towards saying ‘yes, I did re-visit some of my past lives that day’.
Can I prove it to you? No, I can’t really prove it to myself. I just happen to believe it.
“Stained Glass and Cobble Stone Street” By Chris Holt Photos
“Cistercian Abbey of Sénanque” By Gruedin, Public Domain
Mount Rinjani – by Oliver Spalt - Creative Commons
Venice Gondola – by Mark Belokopytov – Creative Commons
Did you enjoy this article?
Please let the author know by leaving them a comment below!
And, subscribe to our free weekly digest!
Simply add your email below. A confirmation email will be sent to you.