My First Past Life Regression

Last Friday, I went to a workshop about past life regression. I hadn’t researched it or experienced a regression before, so naturally the night was quite interesting. I’ve been threatening to blog my paranormal experiences and I assure you, they’re on their way. I need to write them all out first and put them into some semblance of order first. I dunno why. I just feel I should.

Anyhow, I also feel I should blog my first past life regression since it is a sort of important occasion, I suppose.

Apparently, I was a rather large, dark haired man…in the 14th century. The toes of my armor were very, very thin and pointy. I was rather burly and apparently had a few servants or at least male friends to help me prepare for battle.

What battle? I have no idea. It was quite urgent that I get ready quickly and get on my horse and go. I recall something about an invasion, like there was land at stake in the skirmish, like I was part of the defense. I was near the battle, but not near enough to see it. I didn’t seem like an asshole, but I also didn’t get much of a flavor of myself to really know for sure. I did feel as though I was noble and in the right to defend whatever it was that I needed to defend. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I was a good guy.

The man leading the regression then asked us to go to our home to see what it looked like.

My house was made of stone and rather large. It was not a castle…not even a fortified manor. It had several multi-light windows and appeared to be two stories high. The door was thick wood and quite tall although not like the kind on a castle. It was also not ornate.

I had a beautiful, long-light-brown-haired wife with hazel eyes. I think she loved me, but she also seemed afraid of me or at least surprised to see me at that moment. She was dressed neatly, but again, nothing fancy.

At least two of my three little children were boys. The other could’ve been a girl. It was hard to tell. The oldest was maybe five or six. My house was well furnished, but not fancy. In the room with my wife and kids, there was one tapestry, a few candlesticks as well as wooden chairs and tables. It seemed as though I had everything I needed.

I must’ve been reasonably well-to-do in order to have so many possessions, but still, nothing could be considered true finery. The curtains were a sort of dark amber color, but I couldn’t tell what fabric they were made of. It wasn’t fancy. There were a few servants about, but I don’t recall much about them.

Then the man leading the regression had us go to the biggest, most important moment in that life.

Well, that’s when I got a little confused. It was as though I (as the dark-haired man) was interchangeable with the man in the center of my view…having his head chopped off at a public execution. There were whispers of treason bandied about. There was also something about either my brother had done the treasonous act and I was being wrongly executed or that I was somewhere in the audience and it was my brother being executed.

I’m leaning more toward the executed being myself because as my soul separated from my body, I saw my wife crying in the audience. If it had been my brother being executed, I would’ve been with my wife and I likely would’ve had an opinion or felt emotion about the death. Instead, I guess I was sort of in denial that I was being executed in place of my brother.

The crazy part was that I definitely felt the axe or sword blow around my neck and mostly what I thought about was that I was being wrongly punished for something I had no part in.

However, to me, the most interesting bit was as my soul was flying away, I knew everything was going to be okay because it would all be fixed in my next life. I would right whatever wrong had been done to me or in general, my next life would sort everything out. I just had to keep looking up and being honorable and noble and overall just plain good.

If there’s one thing I learned from the entire experience it’s that I wanna do it again!

And quite honestly, I’ve always believed in past lives. I’ve also always believed I was a rather large man in more than one past life. I’ve also thought that perhaps I was given this tiny little female body in this life as sort of payback for some bad stuff I did while in my big manly body. Like I needed to walk in the shoes of someone I’d wronged in order to really understand.

I’m 5’5″, 105lbs and yet I still think I can push my car up a hill. I still charge in and pick up four 25lb lighting fixtures as though they aren’t heavy. I still pick up two 50lb steel pipe bases as though it’s no big deal. I enjoy the company of men more so than women and I get pissed off when the guys hit on me rather than treat me like one of the boys. There’s always been that sort of disconnect in my brain. As a kid, I played with more boy toys than girl toys although I had an affinity for both.

In fact, I still collect dolls. Although my Hot Wheels and Matchbox collection has skewed toward the real things rather than the miniatures over the years.

I think it’s a strange balance. I mean, this was only my first regression. What if next time, I find out about a past life where I was female and I start to look at all the feminine things in my life that seemed to have always been there?

But I just gotta say…I still think I was more often a man than a woman. One of my ex-boyfriends even said I’m more of a man than most men. Funny how that is. To look at me, it seems impossible. To know me, there’s certainly truth in it.

And that’s just another thing about me that makes me strange…but happy.

Who were you in a past life and did that carry forward into this one?

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