Past life as fishwife netted in trawl of subconscious

Published on Wednesday 11 May 2005 13:31

EX-PAGE 3 model Linda Lusardi was apparently a 14th-century peasant who died, covered in black boils, from some horrible plague.

Anneka Rice was a 16-year-old boy who stowed away on a ship to the Americas in the 16th century.

And Pop Idol judge Neil Fox was a lute-playing Medieval carpenter who killed the local baron to win the hand of the women he loves.

That’s according to a new television show coming to ITV1 next week. On Have I Been Here Before? host Phillip Schofield will offer a series of celebrities the chance to see if they lived past lives through the controversial technique of regression.

For the uninitiated, regression therapy uses hypnosis to tap into subconscious memories of supposed previous lives.

So do celebrities have more interesting past lives as well as present ones than the rest of us? Or could there be a monarch or a great hero lurking in the previous incarnations of any of us?

According to Edinburgh hypnotherapist and regression therapy expert Julie-Anne Taylor, finding ordinary past lives is quite common.

"We can’t all be Cleopatra," she laughs. "Most people are farmers, or fishermen, ordinary folk."

But then she does add that one of her clients was apparently a Nazi in a former life, while she herself was murdered by a past husband in one of her previous incarnations.

Most people try regression therapy to deal with a specific problem, for example an inexplicable fear of water, which may be due to being drowned in an earlier life.

Others, like me, are merely curious. I have never been hypnotised before, let alone regressed, so I meet Julie-Anne a few days before trying the therapy so that she can talk me through the process. She explains that, contrary to popular belief, you are not unconscious or out of control while in a hypnotic state.

While sceptical of regression, I have no problem believing that hypnosis is a way of accessing a vast untapped pool of information and emotion inside the human mind.

Stories about dodgy therapists manipulating patients and countless stage shows where hypnotised volunteers are made to do embarrassing things make me less than trusting, however.

But as Julie-Anne attempts to hypnotise me, there is none of the stereotypical pendant-waving "you are feeling sleepy" malarkey.

INSTEAD I lie on a bed covered by a blanket, following Julie-Anne’s instructions as she tells me to close my eyes and relax. Next she tells me to open my eyes and stare at a spot behind me - which strains my eyes so that it is hard to keep them open - and count backwards from 500.

Meanwhile she continues to talk in a soothing voice, repeatedly suggesting that my eyes want to close before eventually telling me to shut them if I haven’t already done so. Then she asks me to visualise myself walking through a tranquil garden, my relaxed state "getting deeper and deeper".

I don’t feel like I have been hypnotised, but I do start feeling very relaxed - until it occurs to me that I might start snoring.

The session ends as Julie-Anne counts from ten to one, telling me to open my eyes at the end.

She assures me there is no way I could become trapped in a hypnotic state because I will always be aware of what I am doing. I forget to ask what might happen if my ancient Walkman conks out partway through the tape.

Back in Julie-Anne’s office at Medicalternative in Dean Village a few days later for my regression therapy, she tells me to suspend my disbelief and to try to treat the experience like watching a film. She begins hypnosis and I start to feel deeply relaxed.

After going through the garden again, Julie-Anne suggests that I picture the most beautiful staircase I have ever seen and walk down it to a door, which I should open to look for my past lives.

Julie-Anne explains that she is going to deal directly with my subconscious now. I struggle not to grin as she starts asking questions like: "Subconscious, are you prepared to take us to a past life, yes or no?"

When I answer yes, I’m sure it is a conscious decision.

When she asks whether it is dark, whether I am inside or out, I find myself thinking I could say anything at all as images flash through my mind.

But then a picture of a young woman standing on a quayside appears in the same way that you can close your eyes and see something in your mind’s eye which you have seen in real life. I describe her floor-length dark dress and dark hair and explain that she’s tense because it’s stormy and her fishing family are out at sea. Her name is Mary.

As a sceptic, I don’t believe I have had any past lives at all, which leads me to the unhappy conclusion that my imagination is sadly lacking. I mean, I’m sure Scots fishwives had interesting lives too, but of all the millions of fascinating people who have lived in the world, how did I end up with Mary?

Was I making it up? Yes. But I’m fascinated about why I imagined that and not something else.

We look for another past life. Fleeting images of men a bit like Genghis Khan flash across my mind but refuse to stay.

"Subconscious, are we there yet?" asks Julie-Anne. Er, no.

I am tempted to say at this stage that it really isn’t working but remain curious and eventually I picture a little girl, Annie.

Again, as I describe how she lives in France with her mother, I have no feeling that I am describing a previous existence.

Annie confirms my fears about my lack of creativity. She is a ten-year-old girl whose mother is a teacher. When I was ten, my mother was a teacher. Oh dear.

In both ‘lives’, however, I am aware of a strong wish to talk about my father. As Annie, on prompting, I tell Julie-Anne that my father has died.

I am suddenly overwhelmed by emotion and tears well in my eyes. I still don’t believe for a second that I was once a little girl called Annie in 1930s France. My explanation for my reaction is that - unknown to Julie-Anne - my real father has been seriously ill.

Julie-Anne is refreshingly open-minded about my view. She says: "It would be upsetting for a little girl to have lost her father, but equally if your father is ill, it could just be your subconscious directing you towards that. Nobody can give a cast iron guarantee of whether it is real or not.

"My belief is that if it helps someone get over a problem then it doesn’t actually matter whether it is real or their imagination.

"Personally I have seen so much that I believe it cannot just be coincidence or imagination. There is research where the details which people have given have been checked and the people they say they were did exist.

"I think that with more research we will realise that it is real."

I, meanwhile, remain sceptical, which brings me back to my increasingly disturbing lack of imagination. Now I really do need therapy!

Julie-Anne Taylor is a hypnotherapist trained in various techniques including regression therapy, at Medicalternative, Hawthornbank Lane, Dean Village, Edinburgh. She can be contacted on 0131-478 2767