My friend Leonard is a shaman who does psychic readings, guided meditations, and past life regression. Though I believe in the afterlife and possibility of reincarnation, I have always been skeptical of peoples ability to actually see their past lives. Today I am confused because I tried a regression session that revealed an unexpected vision . The goal was to go back into my childhood – however once I was under hypnosis I had some visions which were too detailed for my imagination or knowledge base.

This is what I saw….

 

Vision One – The Incan Sacrifice:

The rains had recently stopped and beautiful rays of light were cutting through the dispersing clouds. I saw brilliant golden splashes of light all over the great rugged mountainsides that surrounded me. I could see myself dancing on the edge of a ledge at a place I determined was Machu Piccu. I was beautiful. My tiny body was clad in a filmy white robe and my amazingly long dark gold hair was adorned with flowers and feathers.

I must have been stoned to the hilt on some sort of powerful hallucinogen as I euphorically twirled in my own world.  Four men stood watching me. Waiting for me to tire of dancing? Eventually I was lead to an altar inside a cave with a sloped ceiling. The cave was lit by fire as time had passed and it was now dusk.

They anointed me with a floral scented water. I couldn’t understand what they were chanting. It was a bit eerie, but I wasn’t afraid. I was more aroused than anything from all their stroking.

I became aware of who I was in this life. I belonged to a temple. When men came to me they were traumatized by their lives – be it war, a bad hunt, or the death of a loved one. I would perform rituals and do anything that needed to be done to get their negativity out of them, Sometimes they’d cry and scream. Sometimes they’d come. Sometimes they would pee. They came to me for understanding, love, and release.

Upon Leonard suggestion I called that part of my soul back into me. There was negative energy inside me. It was like thick black roots that started at my heart and worked their way down through my body to form a hook around my reproductive organs. It took awhile to break them down and pull them out of my body but Leonard pulled them out one by one and blew them away. I had to help a bit by bearing down on my stomach with my own hands. My hands felt heavy and didn’t feel like they were mine.

After the negative energy had been pulled out of me the shamans in my vision began to move around me in a circle chanting. Their caressing continued. I was beginning to feel aroused… Suddenly the last thing I expected happened: A knife painlessly entered my chest and I was suddenly happily out of my body and looking down on it. I wondered what was so beautiful about my body to begin with – then realized it was my soul that made it beautiful.

I have no idea why they killed me. I do not know anything about the Incans. I think they had to sacrifice something precious for some reason. Perhaps this death is the reason why I’m so obsessed with Machu Piccu? It could be a connection to this past life. Or this whole vision I had was just a wicked imagination that surprised me with an unexpected twist. I’ll know when I go there. If the scenery and especially the ledge match my vision I will know there is some truth in there somewhere.

Vision Two – The Witch

It was a grey day in what felt like somewhere in the UK. There was a heavy mist in the air  – or perhaps it was a slight drizzle. I was laying on my back and was tightly bound by something like barbed wire. Every time I moved or drew a breath the barbed wire cut deeper into my flesh.

The villagers had gathered around me and were hatefully shouting obscenities, throwing animal dung, and spitting on me. The women were the worst. They really despised me – especially the one with the missing teeth and the matted hair. Her eyes were wild with unquenchable hatred. Oddly, she looked like my mother in this life.

The mob was attacking everything about my body that pertained to beauty or sexuality. They had shorn my hair. They were cutting my breasts and impaling my nipples with large needles. They repetitively thrust a hot fire poker in my vagina.

There was a man beside me. As I understood the situation, the man was my lover – but I think he was married or betrothed to someone else. We met when he was passing through my village during a May Day celebration. We saw each other from a distance and felt instant attraction. We both participated in the May Pole dance and thanks to a quick last minute maneuver ended up facing each other. I became pregnant with his child and our affair continued in secret. There was a cabin in the woods that we would meet at.

He lived in the christian world and had naively made a confession to someone who didn’t keep our union secret. I was a celt – another priestess or healer of some sort. They feared my religion and abhorred my cultures’ customs. They hunted me because they thought I was an evil witch/whore. He was guilty for consorting with me.

They were torturing him too. They cut off his penis and threw it at me. I don’t know what else they did to him because I was caught up in my own horror. In the real world, I cried and writhed in horror as my vision progressed to the point where the villagers were cutting my stomach open to pull out my insides. I was pregnant. I couldn’t feel the pain in my vision, but I could feel a sickening sensation that was long lines of intestines being pulled out of my body.

There was a large black bird – maybe a raven – perched in a tree above me. I don’t know why I was conscious of it but it scared me. I was afraid it was going to eat my eyeballs when the villagers left me alone to bleed to death.

Fleeting Visions and Passing Revelations:

After my brutal torture and death as a supposed witch, it seemed like it was a long time before my soul returned to earth. Christianity had killed the last remaining matriarical religion so my soul was at odds as to where to go next. It seems like my soul repetitively had a healing purpose but with the spread of Christianity, there were less places for me to go to fulfill my role. There weren’t any cultures left which could raise and train me properly for my purpose.

I get the feeling that there was a more recent life where I worked in a brothel in the late 1800s but it was a much cruder version of my souls previous function. All the sacredness and ritual was removed. I died of syphilus.

I later had a fleeting vision of being a first nations child in what felt like the west coast of Canada. It was a breif glimpse with no story around it.