After a session that lasted three hours—but felt like only one—I might still be a sceptic, unable to tell if it was my overactive imagination or dregs of a past life, says Jane Borges
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The first time I heard of regression therapy was when I read American psychiatrist-turned-hypnotherapist Dr Brian Weiss’s bestseller, Many Lives Many Masters. This was 15 years ago, and I’ve been curious ever since. Four years ago, I even signed up for a session with a friend, but developed cold feet at the last minute, because, “why would anyone want to know who they were in their past life?” The present is too much to handle, already. The pressure of an experience of another lifetime, felt like a burden. When I share this incident with Dr Sharma, he tells me that “we manifested this therapy session, because we had wanted it all along”. Which also means that this article selected me, as opposed to the other way around. At the outset, I have to admit that having lapped up many of Dr Weiss’s books, there is at least openness to the concept of reincarnation. I am not sure if it makes it easy for a regression therapist, but Dr Sharma does share that those who are intuitive by nature, are usually welcoming of all kinds of feelings, which helps the session greatly.
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Since I have an underlying lower back problem, I thought I could address it first. To my surprise, Dr Sharma ruled it out as something that was related with our energies or previous memories. After a thorough diagnosis, which lasted for about 30 minutes—and that’s where his medical skills come into play—he told me that I needed to get enough exercise and do regular stretches to strengthen the back. He then went on to probe deeper, like a psychiatrist almost, asking questions about my emotional wellbeing, and the people and events, rattling my mind on a day-to-day basis. The session lasted an hour. It was only the next day that he did the regression. It was over a voice call, and there was no pendulum—as I had imagined—or soft music to aid the hypnosis.
“About 10 to 15 per cent people don’t see anything—they just experience thoughts and feelings. Another 15 per cent get very clear images. But 60 per cent of the people, experience a combination of thoughts, feelings and images,” Dr Sharma shares, just as we are about to begin. “When you start the session, go with the first thought or image you see. Don’t doubt it.”
After, what I think is a few minutes, where he leads me into a hypnotic state, which, he says, helps open the door to the subconscious, I see vivid images, sharing details that amusingly have strange parallels with my present lifetime. Even the characteristics and traits of the person I imagine myself to be, is strangely similar [to myself]. I go with the flow. Like he insists, I don’t question it.
Dr Sharma takes me only through one “past lifetime”—in some sessions he jumps to other lifetimes, if he feels the patient needs it—and in that period, I see myself evolve from childhood till death. When the session ends, it has been three hours already. Yes, as long as a Karan Johar melodramatic movie. But, to be honest, it felt like just about 60 minutes had passed. And that was the strangest part of the entire experience. “It’s a time warp, wherein you lose the concept of time, because you are so engrossed in your story,” he tells me. “It’s important for me to get into the details. It’s like playing detective,” he says, alluding to his work, “Even a paediatrician is no less a detective, because children don’t complain about what they are suffering from. You need to be sharp and attentive.”
He spends the next hour again, revisiting the story I shared with him, explaining how “cause and effect” work, and how a lot of my current problems, stem from certain incidents that happened in that past life. He explains how understanding relationships in my past life, will help me address the current ones better. I am still a sceptic, though. Looking back, it is hard to tell whether what I experienced is the work of my mind, or whether I had really tapped into my subconscious. What I can, however, say is that, until this session, I hadn’t really even conjured up the idea of such a person. “It’s your story. Own it,” Dr Sharma tells me.