IN SPITE OF YEARS of fairly heavy involvement in spiritual topics, until last night, I had never formally tried to tap into past lives. In 2002 and later on, I had a series of dreams about the early years of National Socialism in Germany and the Night of Broken Glass (Kristallnacht / Reichskristallnacht), and believed that dreams in parable or quite literal placed me in a lifetime in 1930s Third Reich. This was later supported by very strong supporting supernatural events in Germany in 2005 when I visited the country for the first time. However, I tried to suspend these expectations going into my first past life regression.
I must state that I do not wish to try to influence anyone to believe in past lives, whether they cannot rationalize such a possibility for reasons of a secular outlook or because of limitations and restrictions of a faith doctrine. Furthermore, my previous outlook as well as the results of last night do not mean that the stories are anything more than a fabrication of the human mind. However, I do believe that individuals have lived and experienced exactly what I will describe and the two possibilities that I can personally accept are that they are events I witnessed in other lifetimes, or through the collective consciousness overseen by God, I have been able to experience pieces of these lives that they appear to be my own.
The friend who performed the past life regression is someone I have known for over a decade now and only in the last few years began enhancing her spiritual quest with more so-called New Age tools and methods. She has increasingly demonstrated herself to be credible and sincere in her abilities, and so I wanted for her to facilitate an examination of past lives.
What I experienced far exceeded my expectations and deviated from them as well.
I am not knowledgeable about the process of past life regression though I can attest that there are different ways to approach it and what happened for me is not what I would describe as hypnosis, though there is a meditative state employed whereby one is relaxed and less inhibited, while not needing to induce this state of consciousness chemically. There is no suggestive language or implantation of false memories, but rather opportunities to provide self-directed narrative and perspective. Above all, I was very fortunate to have someone providing the service who has excellent pacing and a non-distracting form of diction.
I WAS GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY to zero in on a life or situation of my choosing and of which would be most important to me. To be delivered to this unknown scene, I was guided through a forest in my imagination and to a house where I was to discover a box that contains an object, not literal, that would be the catalyst to this prior existence. In my case, I found a gold chain with a black or onyx stone in this box which took me to a scene where I heard horse carriages. My guide instructed me to observe my clothing, starting with my shoes, which were pointed-toe shoes that seemed like a court jester’s. Through some questioning, I established that I was in the 1890s and most likely in Belgium, responding to the name Wilhelm. This surprised me because I have traveled to a number of countries, and while I have been to Belgium before, I felt no particular attachment to it to the extent I do Germany, Canada, the UK, the US, or Japan, though I did balk with a fearful reaction when I was invited to camp in the Ardennes region.
In this mid-size town, I felt I was near a university and was waiting for a half-brother. As I was aware of this recollection, I felt anxious, but was reminded by my guide that I was to watch this as though it was a movie, rather than a gripping relapse into the past life, and I was immediately mollified into calm and could watch more objectively. Through a series of indirect questions, it came about that I was wrapping up seminary and was on the road to a career as a theologian. My own mother had died and my father, an upper class, silent pillar of the community type person (but not in the political sphere, most likely medical) had married a prudish woman of a lower caste. There was a half-sister who had died years before who sort of brought about more austere ambience in the household. My marks at university were top-notch and I was delivering sermons with great feedback and had lots of positive recognition, but I was about to break with the order once again and assist this younger half-brother with an elopement. My one unachieved wish at the time was to do mission work around the world.
As is the method with this particular past life regression style, we were to move forward to another pivotal scene and immediately I could see myself in this past lifetime in physical ruin. I was quite healthy with broad muscular stature in my late 20s or early 30s in the previous scene, but was looking into a mirror with ruined teeth, no hair, and a disorderly beard in the next scene. From what I could tell, I had been the sole survivor in the immediate family from World War I and I had barely survived the related famine myself. While I was in a room in a farmhouse at this point, the Flemish house where I had ridden out the war, I did have supporting visuals in mind of the outside world, and the transformation of the civilization was unlike anything I have imagined before or even seen in film. As I said to my guide, “There is absolutely nothing left of the world I knew before.” Somehow, I did have a sense that I would survive still, and that I could somehow turn the situation in my favor. I had lived in Germany from 1906 to 1911, but for some reason had returned to Belgium, and was not formally occupied as a pastor.
Next, I was asked to go forward again, and I was taken to the age of 70. I had the onset of pneumonia that would kill me inside of a year, but I was not fully cognizant of this yet. I was wearing a yellow poncho, so it appeared, which perplexed me because I believed it to be 1936, and I am not sure if nylon-like materials were in use yet (I believe nylon itself was introduced en masse for clothing during World War II). What was I doing? I was waiting outside of a village school for two kids. Grandkids? They felt like this but it was not established until later that they were neighbor children. I took them several days a week until their mother would leave work. I took them to a two-story cob home that I learned I had bought at a firesale price because I knew an old couple who owned it before they died and had some ties to the estate. 5000 units of whatever currency is what I paid (it should have been Belgian francs, which would be about 250 euros, I’ve found, but I feel like they were guilders, which was the Dutch currency). Subsequently, I had rented rooms of the property out to students and had made a modest living through barter and rent income. I was ending this life with gratitude, purpose, and modest means.
Was there anything I wanted to fill in or know? My guide facilitating the regression asked me this. I wanted to account for my almost five years in Germany, so we went there.
I had gone to Germany to do pastoral work only to find that my German language skills were subpar. I went to what I think was Düsseldorf (Düsseldorfer Altstadt), though much of what I knew then would be gone or unrecognizable now after World War II. What I can remember of this period was near penury, living in a studio flat on the fifth floor of a white building, working by kerosene lamp writing pieces for very little money to German newspapers. The writing was religious, as before. I never really made friends in this setting, and though it was not “Prussia” there was this Wagnerian, Bismarck vibe… I’m not qualified to use these terms knowledgeably, but I believe them to describe the severe mood. What took me back to Belgium in 1911 was my sister-in-law dying and they were complete peasants – Bauern, in German, I believe, a word that resonated in German class years ago and I think I used to describe them in this past life.
THIS SATISFIED MY EXPLORATION of that life, and I was asked to go to the next relevant life. To my surprise and also to my guide’s surprise (but she said it is not unheard of for this to happen), I wound up in the future. More than 24 hours later now, I very much mourn not being able to live in this time period now, which I loosely defined as 2140.
I heard two names – Chad and Astrid. I was then able to see myself and I looked similar to my Belgian incarnation, but was this time in my late 30s. The location was the Olympic peninsula in Washington state. My guide pressed me to try to figure out what I was doing in this setting, a misty forest at dusk. Astrid, as I knew her, was a colleague – no – a colleague and common-law wife. My friend facilitating the regression (is it at regression if we go forward in time?) asked me if I know this woman now and I established that it is a woman I know in Berlin now whom I met in Australia in 2008. As I was asked how I felt about this woman, it was just total awe of her brilliance. We were collaborators in every way, totally devoted to ecology as what we would call biologists in the twenty-first century. As I told my guide, it was very hard to describe the political situation and purpose. The Pacific Northwest and coastal fringe of British Columbia had separated from the United States and was some kind of green rogue state that required special permission to live in its territories. I had abandoned a wife and children in the United States and had no remorse, because I saw the kids as a lost cause among the drooling masses. Astrid and I were committed to a politically subversive life and had somehow been part in creating this revolutionary country.
I was asked to zip forward a period and while a year was not defined, I knew I was about 55-years-old. This was in the Seattle area and far less tense times. The US and this fringe country had reconciled and I was waiting for my two boys, now in their 30s, who had forgiven their selfish father. I had a sense of humor about everything. Astrid was long gone, too extreme and devoted to the cause to maintain a relationship with. It was here I could see how society, culture, and environment had evolved and it was pristine and absolutely beautiful! There was no rubbish or discord in the environment to speak of, snow-capped mountains in the distance, and safer nuclear or atomic energy had been harnessed in such a way that no device made any noise or emitted any kind of pollution. My sons were coming in what looked like a 1950s or early 60s silver camper van or caravan, but these were understood to frequently be used as a regular vehicle as well. While Seattle was an important conurbation, it was apparent that the population of this world was radically reduced from what we know now.
The reason this scene was important was that this was meant to be some kind of reconciliation trip that I was looking forward to, as were they, but in the midst of it, it had come about that I had spent too much money on yet another woman and they felt disinherited by this folly. While I can’t and couldn’t visualize the full scenario, it was clear that while I would have communication with the sons, they were not going to allow me to have intimate ties with them anymore and there was nothing I could do to rectify it.
This pulled me forward another couple of decades and we were in approximately 2180, at my age of 79. This time I was in a high-ceiling, open office plan style clinic with glass walls all around. This kind of place is where people went to volunteer themselves for euthanasia. As I described to my guide, the term “suicide” was not really appropriate in this society, and there was not peer pressure to end one’s life, but it was the way most people died. There was nothing physically wrong with me, nor was I depressed or trying to be manipulative. There was (“was” seems like the appropriate term here, though this is meant to be the future) this belief that dictating the time of one’s death was life choosing any other thing that we choose now and setting the terms, while also a means to ascend to lives on higher unknown planets or the universe. It was difficult for me to describe the religious value system of that time period, but it was very outer space oriented, though at no point did I sense the presence of or current communication with extraterrestrials. I had no remorse to die, and I was dying alone, which was also fairly customary for some reason.
What was extremely prevalent in these three scenes from the twenty-second century was the devout individuality and absoluteness of all the personalities I encountered. One might call it hedonistic or highly selfish in today’s terms, though it was extremely liberating and honest and I do mourn that I will not be able to speak so frankly as I “did” in that lifetime during this lifetime in the twenty-first century. It was as though the political situation or atmosphere itself was totally incapable of sustaining any kind of pretense.
Coming out of the past life regression, I was instructed that I could remember what I wanted to or what was beneficial to me, and I think I remember nearly everything that appeared before me. I felt extremely refreshed, as though my identity is consistent throughout eternity, and while these two lifetimes explained a lot of my temperament, a million new questions have surfaced that do not necessarily relate to me. What brought about the political fracturing of the United States and Canada, the latter of which seemed to not exist in name any more? What reduced the population so radically? How did such a beautiful, peaceful world, at least in this area, come about after a turbulent period? When I have believed my previous life to be in Germany, and to have so many vivid recollections of there, how did Belgium slip past me, if this story is in any way authentic? The future life scenario feels like recalling the past, though it has not yet occurred in linear time, so is there a script that exists elsewhere in the eyes of God or some higher archive, or is everything occurring simultaneously somehow?
I believe I was very fortunate with the past life regressionist that I worked with, which definitely enhanced the experience. This is something I want to continue doing regularly and I find to be a very valuable investment, because even if it is not an accurate account of actual events, it was like watching the best movie one has ever seen, or a monumental genealogy find.