My journey to becoming a past life regression therapist - Part 3 (My first experience as a therapist)

This post covers my first experience as a therapist at the PLRT workshop.

Day 4 of the workshop

Most of the participants arrived on time for the workshop. The atmosphere was filled with anxiousness, curiosity, and anticipation. Venu announced that he would demonstrate a past life regression session, followed by role play among the participants. When he asked for volunteers, every hand went up. Eventually, one participant was chosen through a draw of lots, with each of us writing our names on slips of paper and placing them in a glass jar.

As the selected participant and Venu settled into their chairs, the rest of us gathered closely, sitting on the floor. What followed was a magical session. We witnessed the ease and professionalism with which Venu conducted the regression. Having taught us the theory over the first three days, he now demonstrated his fifteen-step methodology in practice. We were mesmerized by the process. A few participants, however, left the hall—some felt overwhelmed by energy, while others found it tedious. Regression sessions demand patience from both therapist and client. They are time-consuming and not suited to those lacking the willingness to wait. Interestingly, clients are often unaware of how much time has passed; two hours in trance can feel like twenty minutes.

At lunch, our discussions revolved around the session we had just witnessed. Afterward, we were divided into two groups of fifteen: one group would act as therapists, the other as clients. We were tasked with implementing Venu’s fifteen-step methodology. Each client was given a feedback form to evaluate their therapist at the end of the session. I chose to be a therapist. Before beginning, I said a silent prayer—my personal addition as a sixteenth step. I have since realized that sessions flow more smoothly when I begin with prayer.

My first client was a woman in her early thirties, experienced in meditation. During the initial history-taking, we agreed on a theme to explore. She wanted to overcome certain fears and gain clarity about her life’s purpose. I used the progressive relaxation technique, one of many methods available. I asked her to go back in time to the root cause of her fears and describe what she became aware of. She reported seeing a window, darkness outside, and water everywhere. For me, it was a thrilling moment—my first attempt at regression, and she was experiencing vivid imagery. The greatest disappointment for a therapist is when a client says they cannot see or feel anything.

As this was my first experience, I was unsure how to frame follow-up questions. Her responses remained limited to “window,” “water,” “night,” “boat,” and “tunnel.” Realizing we were not progressing, I shifted to the second theme: discovering her life’s purpose. She then saw herself wearing royal garments, but soon her expression changed. She turned pale and began shivering. With the help of other participants, we covered her with shawls. She repeated, “It is cold, I am freezing. I will die,” before abruptly sitting up, still trembling. The session ended suddenly.

I rushed to Venu, who was monitoring the participants. He came over and observed her condition. She touched both of us and said, “I actually experienced the chill.” Her hands were icy, and I was astonished that someone could physically feel sensations from a past life. She complained of heaviness in her head. I felt disappointed that I had not managed the session well, but Venu remained calm. He offered her warm water and asked her to meditate for a few minutes. Within ten minutes, she felt better—the heaviness lifted and the shivering subsided. When I asked her about the session, she kindly said I had done a good job as a therapist, though I suspected she was being generous. She described seeing herself on a ship or large boat, looking out a window at the water as it began to enter. In the second scene, dressed in royal garments, she vividly experienced the freezing cold. For her, the sensations were real.

Meanwhile, most therapists successfully regressed their clients. Those who could not were reassured by Venu, who suggested switching roles. Therapists became clients and vice versa, with partners exchanged. As the day drew to a close, my assigned therapist grew restless—she wanted to return home to her waiting daughter. She asked Venu if she could postpone the session, but he insisted it be completed that day. Wanting to help her finish quickly, I cooperated fully. She guided me into early memories of my current life but could not regress me beyond it. Perhaps neither of us was fully relaxed. We ended the session, and I felt disappointed at not experiencing a past life. Venu assured us that we would have time the next morning to continue practicing.

By the end of the day, I was left with mixed emotions—gratified that I had regressed my first client, though the session ended abruptly, and disappointed that I had not experienced a past life myself. Perhaps the theme I had chosen was not strong enough.

Day 5 – Final day of the workshop

It dawned on us that this was our final day together as a group, and from the next morning we would return to our routines. Over the past four days, we had formed friendships and felt a strong bond with one another. The time had passed quickly. Many of us took selfies and group photos to capture the memories as we waited for the workshop to begin.

Group pictures in the hotel lobby

Venu explained that the morning would be devoted to continuing our role play, while the afternoon would be reserved for a wrap-up session, where we could ask questions. He added that he would conclude the workshop with a surprise for all of us.

I felt I had not performed well as a therapist in my earlier attempt and agreed with my first client to conduct another session for her. She accepted, and this time the experience was more meaningful. She saw herself drowning in the ship she had described the previous day, which explained her fear of water. Later, when exploring her life’s purpose, she envisioned herself in a royal gown. She also saw a book lying on a table in the center of a grand hall filled with books. The title read Kabbalah. Its pages had golden edges, and the book appeared ornate and decorated. She realized she had once practiced Kabbalah—an ancient wisdom that empowers individuals to improve their lives, discover their purpose, and achieve lasting fulfillment. It is an esoteric discipline and school of thought within Jewish mysticism. Perhaps she carried that knowledge into her present life.

We ended the session as she had no further visions and it was nearing lunchtime. In our discussion afterward, she mentioned that her visuals and experiences were clearer than those of the previous day. Both of us felt satisfied with how the session had progressed. I now felt confident in my role as a therapist and thanked her for the trust she had placed in me.

Meanwhile, the other participants were engaged in their sessions. As lunchtime approached, those of us who had finished headed to the restaurant. Walking for lunch, I found myself wondering whether the workshop would conclude without me ever experiencing a past life regression of my own.

To be continued in Part 4...

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