Hindsight: Past Life Regression or Self-Hypnosis for a Seven Year Old
Laura Hinds reminisces about growing up in Danvers.
My Godparents were always eclectic people. They traveled to places I’d never heard of before, had artsy type friends, and unique perspectives on just about everything. Aunt Norma and Uncle John had always been kind to me, and I learned from an early age to listen intently to whatever subject they were discussing with my mother.
When I was seven, we lived on Pickering Street right by the railroad tracks. Just to the other side of the tracks was a triangular grassy area for the neighborhood kids to play on. The triangle was centered amongst Pickering, Cross and Charles Streets. In fact, the small park is still there today.
One day, my Godmother Norma and Godfather John, were telling my mother about a past life regression seminar they had recently attended. Given that I was already hooked on the ABC gothic soap opera, Dark Shadows, I was familiar with the concept. I was also taken with Harriet the Spy, a wonderful children’s book about a young girl who was practicing for her future career as a spy by writing down her observations about those she spied on in her neighborhood. Therefore, you see, I had a handy dandy notebook at the ready so I could take notes about past life regression.
Evidently, it consisted of lying down in an area under the open sky, thinking something about an elephant and a flying carpet. Now if I truly had the memory of an elephant I could explain this much better. I do know that the open sky, the elephant, and the flying carpet were vital to the success of my mission.
I decided that under a particular tree on the Pickering Street side of the triangle was the right place to give this past life thing a whirl. It also is coming back to me that I had to relax my body starting with my feet and working up to my head. Slow deep breathing was involved as well as the above-mentioned elephant and flying carpet.
Now I can’t tell you whether I had any sort of OBE (look it up) or past life memories, but I do know one thing for sure: I fell into a deep sleep. I’d go so far as to say snoring loudly asleep. Some of the kids in the neighborhood found me that way and I woke up with several pairs of eyes observing me and even one of the boys rolling on the ground holding his stomach because he was laughing so hard.
I mustered up what was left of my dignity, brushed off my jeans and top and took stock of the situation. “Too bad you guys,” I told them, “I saw an elephant riding a flying carpet and you didn’t. And I know how to see it again, and I’m not telling you, not any of you!” After that proclamation, I whirled around and stomped home. I glanced back over my shoulder just once and saw them all staring at me again, agog with their eyes wide and mouths open.
I’ve never shared this story with anyone else until today. I really think I just self-hypnotized myself and relaxed enough that I took a convenient nap under a welcoming tree.
That said, I do clearly remember the need to visualize that elephant and flying carpet. So, of course, you know that the next time there is a nice day, I will be heading out to my back yard to find just the right tree to lie down beneath to see what I can conjure. Will it be a past life? Maybe. Will it be more childhood memories? Could be. Will I fall asleep? Probably not. The real question is will I be able to get up again, unassisted. I’ll take the cell phone with me, just in case.
I’ll keep you posted.