On a rainy Tuesday evening, I arrived at Tarot Society Gallery and Reading Room in Bushwick to meet my former self. That was the goal, anyway. I had booked a Past Life Regression Workshop, because ‘tis the season for all things spooky and witchy and maybe she — pre-Kate — knows something I don’t?
Half a dozen of us sat on the rug-lined floor of the studio, which was filled with tarot decks, votive candles, sage and more witchy accoutrements, as our psychic guide Trish Burger explained what the session would entail. Using the Dolores Cannon method of quantum healing hypnotherapy, Burger would lull us into a trance — light hypnosis, she called it, akin to a meditative state — and use visualization techniques to help us access our past selves.
I’ll cut to the chase: It did not “work” on me, per se. Meaning, for the half-hour or so that I closed my eyes and focused as Burger coached us through time, I was unable to picture my past self. Following her directives — I’m paraphrasing, as I was in a foggy state — like, “Picture yourself at a very important event,” “You are now entering a house,” “You have arrived at the last day of this life,” I could only see versions of myself. Whether that means I’m unimaginative, self-involved, too tired on a Tuesday night to focus, or, as Burger told me later over the phone, potentially only on my “first Earth incarnation,” I may never know — unless I try again.
“There is a part of your brain, your higher self, that has all of the information about the essence of you from the beginning of creation to the end of time,” she told me. “In that relaxed, meditative state, you’re able to tap into it.” She added that folks who meditate regularly often have an easier time.
A few of my fellow participants were able to connect with their former self, or so they said when Burger asked if anyone wanted to share their experience. One woman pictured her past self with red hair. Another watched her brother beheaded on a guillotine. Yet another recalled that she was royalty in Elizabethan times. Oddly enough, more than one participant described scenes set in Victorian-era estates and countrysides, leading me to wonder, have we all seen too many period dramas?!
What’s the purpose of a past life regression? Over the phone, the 46-year-old hypnotherapist explained that learning who you were prior to this lifetime can shed light on the struggles you’re experiencing in this one, helping you uncover the root of the problem.
Burger, who also practices reiki and does spirit coaching, recommends the experience to anyone who finds themselves “engaging in repetitive behavior that they can’t seem to break.” If you’re someone who gets obsessive and clingy in relationship after relationship, could be that a past life fuckboi (my words) broke your heart, and you’ve carried over that fear of abandonment into this one.
Burger says you can accomplish more with an in-depth, one-on-one session, which she offers in her Battery Park practice. During these hypnosis sessions, she guides clients through their past life regression, and then “calls up” their higher self to offer guidance. (She knows when she’s tapped into the higher self because the client will actually talk about themselves in third person, sometimes changing their tone of voice and exhibiting a slightly altered personality. Post-hypnosis, they rarely remember it.)
One client, who came to her with the goal of feeling calmer and more grounded in NYC, found the key in his past life: He was an old man unable to evacuate a war-torn country, so he passed his days sitting on a rocking chair on the porch. This taught him that he’s always had the strength to stay calm and centered under seige — even if it’s the particular attack of New York city.
That’s certainly a lesson we could all use.
