Freaky Friday

(cross-posted at the Intrigue Authors blog)

I did a past-life regression a few years ago. I pretty much just relegate the whole past-life theory to the Weird Things I Can't Prove or Explain pile in my head. But I was at an RWA conference and had previously met the woman who was offering past-life sessions (that would be the lovely Melinda Rucker Haynes, an author and creativity coach, in case you're curious), so I thought it might be an adventure.

So during the session, which Melinda calls "personal time travel," I lay down on a hotel room bed, and she led me through some relaxation exercises. Once she started talking me toward the past, I could clearly see an outline of a mass of people, shoulder to shoulder. It was dark, but there was enough light filtered from above that their outlines were all strangely illuminated. Somehow, I knew this was a benign mob, so I wasn't scared at all. But I did spend the better part of our session trying to figure out what the heck they were, which I'm sure was really exciting for Melinda.

Once she finally talked my stubborn self into moving away from that particular conundrum, I mentally ended up in a wheat field, staring at an ex-boyfriend in some kind of medieval warrior getup. It was all very Gladiator-like, except this was pre-Gladiator. Anyway, I wasn't having that, so I started laughing and moved on myself. Because there's a reason he's my ex-boyfriend, and though I don't wish him ill, one lifetime with him in it was quite enough, thankyouverymuch.

So then, I moved on to England, around the end of the eighteenth century. "I" was an extremely spoiled French noblewoman married to an older, ugly but very rich Englishman who had whisked me to England during the early days of the Reign of Terror. Though he probably saved my pampered booty, given what happened to the noble classes during the Terror, I was pretty much too bratty to appreciate it. It was like being an 18th century Lindsay Lohan with Marie Antoinette hair. I hated him and hated England, but I loved the horses he bought me and spent every moment I could riding them AWAY from him. Funny thing--today, I love my husband to pieces, but the much-loathed ed Englishman looked a lot like a bloated, wonky version of him. (Melinda told me that perhaps my husband tried for a do-over in this life, and so attempted to come back attractive to me. I'm not sure my Lindsay Lohan self deserved all that effort, but whatever he did, it worked!)

I don't do well with horses now--they don't steer right for me. And I would hope there's no trace left of this spoiled girl in me now. But I have to say, when I listened to the tape afterward, I found I delivered this entire portion in a flawless (and extremely pouty) French accent. It's pretty hilarious--wish I could share it with you!

Once we moved on, "I" ended up as a man in his late 70s during WWII in Boston. This time, I adopted a flawless Irish accent, and I was quite the flirt. I lived very simply, was a widower who deeply missed my wife Mary, and I considered it my mission in life to lift people's spirits at home during the war. So I would go down to the nursing homes or the park and play cards or chess with "the old people," or I'd head down to the park and juggle and do magic tricks for the kids. I think I even flirted with Melinda at some point in the process--not one of "my" finer moments, although I am happy to say that I wasn't pervy about it.

Today, I can't do magic and I'm hopeless at juggling. I do have a pretty sarcastic sense of humor that I don't often shut off in conversation, but I'm not quite as extroverted as this dude was.

So, all in all, it was a pretty fun way to spend an hour, and it REALLY fired up my imagination. I don't know if these two were really past lives, or if we somehow tapped into some weird frequency from the past. Or, I guess it could simply be that my writer's brain combined with my college acting experience just went into overdrive during hypnosis. I just chalk it up to a fun experience and relegate the rest to Weird Things I Can't Prove or Explain. They ARE fun to ponder when one is waxing philosophical, though.

Oh, and I did figure out what the strangely illuminated mob was. Again, that session was at an RWA conference, and it took place prior to the Rita awards ceremony, which is always held in a large theater auditorium. On the night of the Ritas, I took my seat somewhere in the middle, and as soon as the main lights went down, I noticed that everyone around me was barely illuminated by the stage lights, giving them a faint, halo-like outline all around their upper bodies. I swiveled in my chair, so I could see the crowd behind me, facing me ...

And it was exactly what I'd seen in my session.

I like to think that that was my opera diva life. Might have to find Melinda again sometime and capture more of it!

Have you ever been hypnotized, even if it wasn't for a past life regression? Or, if you've ever pondered past lives, what do you think yours would have been?