A Movie in My Mind

By William J. Furney
The Bali Times

I’m on a horse overlooking a body-strewn battlefield in England, and am wearing a full suit of gold armor. The battle won, it’s back to the castle for a grand old feast and general merriment.

No, I’m not on a movie set, or writing a novel. I’ve been put into trance by Lydia Wilson, one of our newest columnists, who writes the Discovery column on our Health & Spiritually page, and apparently what I am seeing and experiencing now – including emotion – is my life before this one.

I’ve done this largely out of curiosity, but also as a progression after reading Deepak Chopra’s Life After Death: The Book of Answers, which I wrote about two columns ago and gave the book to Lydia when I’d finished it – I abide by another columnist of ours Paulo Coelho’s theory of why have books lying about your house that you won’t read again when someone else can get benefit from them (it doesn’t make commercial sense, but it does make spiritual sense, and Coelho’s a global bestseller).

The most peculiar aspect of this session with Lydia – a transpersonal hypnotherapist – is that I didn’t feel as though I was hypnotized, but clearly was in a different state. As Lydia had earlier explained, it’s being in a deep sleep while being awake and entirely conscious. And that’s how it felt for the most part, but as I kept coming in and out of it – my “critical filter”: “The logical part of you is very strong,” said Lydia later – it was a blend of reality and something altogether different.

Previously Lydia – who’s from Java and traveled the world with her Irish banker husband, but is now divorced and living in the Kerobokan area of Bali – had told me that while you’re in trance and experiencing a past life, it’s akin to being an “actor in a movie.” And that’s a good description.

We started off with me regressing to the moment I was born (in this life) and telling what I saw – A doctor in green scrubs holding me – and then regression to the womb and how that felt (“okay”) to immediately switching to the time before that, whereupon I found myself on the English battlefield with my troops. The emotion I felt when I saw my wife – long, curly light-red hair with a very pale face, loving eyes and a kind smile – was strong enough to bring a tear and Lydia asked if there was someone in this life that resembled her. I said I wasn’t sure.

Still further back Lydia brought me, to a scene in a dark room where three black-clothed figures were performing a medical procedure – my birth in that life.

At times I was enjoying the scene I was in so much that Lydia’s constant questioning became bothersome and I – in my past character – became short with her. “What does the plate look like you are eating off?” she asked, of the post-battle banquet (such pernickety probing helps add to the regressor’s scene, she said later). “China with a gold rim and insignia,” I said, as brashly as if someone at the table was asking me such an obvious question, and taking away from my rapturous enjoyment.

After much later being killed in another battle – arrow through the heart – I found myself fading out until I was in a white light.

“How do you feel?” said Lydia.

“Frustrated,” I – he – said.


“Because I died before the battle was won,” I said.

There were many other vivid details during this session, which lasted for about an hour and a half, including being in bed with my wife. “What are you doing?” Lydia interrupted (there she goes again), after I told her where I was. “Stuff,” I said.

If you believe in reincarnation, you’ll know that the reason for the recycling of the soul from life to life is to become a better soul as you go on, in the eventual hope of becoming perfect and taking your place with the godhead or collective consciousness or whatever we are all ultimately part of, or stem from. Lydia asked me what I had learned from my last life that I could improve on in this, and I pondered and said: “Maybe to do less battle.”

When the session finished, Lydia said not to be surprised if things from that past life flashed into my mind, but since then – Wednesday of last week – nothing much has.

Leaving Lydia that evening, I felt slightly dazed, as though I had woken from a deep sleep, as that’s the state your mind is in for regression. But I don’t think what I saw and experienced was as much a past life as a dream, an imagination, and in some way I regretted doing it at all – of meddling.

Lydia has invited me back, to explore it some more, but I think I’ll leave my past life – or imagination – alone for now.


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