What Actually Happens During a Past Life Regression Session?
You want to know what you're walking into.
Not the theory. The actual shape of it — what happens first, what you'll be asked to do, what it feels like, and how it ends.
That's fair. Nobody should commit to something like this on a vague description.
So here is the whole thing, in order.
If you're still working out what this kind of work is in the first place, I've explained that separately. This piece assumes you've got that part and want the practical detail.
Before the Session: We Talk First
We don't begin with anything resembling hypnosis. We begin with a conversation.
I want to understand what brought you here. Not your whole life story — the thing that's actually pressing. What keeps happening. What you've already tried. What you're hoping might shift.
I'll usually ask some version of these:
What's the pattern you keep running into?
When did you first notice it?
What does it feel like in your body when it shows up?
What have you already done about it?
Is there anything you're worried about with this session?
That last question matters more than people expect. If you're nervous about crying in front of a stranger, or about nothing happening, say so. It changes how I pace things.
This part isn't a formality. It's where I work out where we're going.
How It Begins
You'll be sitting or lying down, whichever is more comfortable. Online, that's wherever you've set yourself up at home. In person, in my room in Fort Collins.
I'll ask you to close your eyes and I'll start talking you into a more settled state. Slowly. Nothing sudden, no countdown, no theatrics.
The first few minutes are mostly about your body letting go of the day.
What the Relaxation Feels Like
Heavier, mainly.
Your limbs get weighty. Your breathing slows without you managing it. The room stops taking up much of your attention.
Some people feel a floating sensation. Some feel their hands get warm. Some notice nothing physical at all and just find their thoughts have gone quieter and slower than usual.
None of these is the correct one. There's no depth you're meant to reach before we can start.
You're Awake, and You're in Charge
You will not be asleep.
You'll hear my voice the entire time. You'll hear the world outside — a car, a door, whatever's going on. You'll know exactly where you are and that you're in a session.
You can talk. You'll need to, because I'll be asking you what you're noticing and you'll be answering. You can shift position if you're uncomfortable. You can open your eyes. You can ask to stop.
Nothing is happening to you. You're doing it, and I'm guiding.
What People Actually Experience
This varies more than anything else, and I'd rather tell you the range than describe one version and let you assume it's the standard.
Some people get images. Clear ones — a place, clothing, hands that aren't theirs, a scene that unfolds like something being watched.
Some get emotions first, with no picture attached. A wave of grief or fear that arrives before any context does.
Some experience it in the body. Pressure somewhere. Cold. A tightness that has a location and a quality but no story yet.
Some receive it as knowing. No image, no feeling exactly, but a clear sense of a situation and what it meant.
And plenty of people get something quiet and undramatic that only makes sense later.
The subconscious decides what comes and in what form. I don't direct that, and I can't predict it for you.
If you want to understand the mechanism underneath all of this, deep memory exploration covers how the process works rather than what it looks like from the inside.
What If Nothing Comes?
This is the fear most people won't say out loud, so let's take it head on.
First: "nothing" is usually not nothing. It's often something so undramatic that you dismiss it while it's happening. A word. A colour. A vague impression you assume you invented. People discount these constantly, and they're frequently the thread we follow.
Second: if you genuinely feel stuck, we don't sit there in silence waiting. We work with what is present — what's happening in your body, what emotion is nearby, what the resistance itself is about. Resistance is information. Sometimes it's the most useful thing in the session.
Third: some sessions are quieter than others, and the quiet ones sometimes matter more in hindsight. I've had people leave feeling faintly disappointed and get in touch a week later because something had visibly changed.
I can't promise you a vivid experience. Anyone who does is telling you what you want to hear.
What If Something Difficult Comes Up?
Sometimes it does. That's part of why you're there.
What I do is keep you at a distance you can manage. We often work as though you're observing something rather than standing inside it — watching, describing, staying at a remove that lets you look without being pulled under.
If it's too much, we slow down. If it's still too much, we stop, and stopping is not a failure or a wasted session.
I'm watching your breathing and your face and your hands the whole time. If you're going further than you can hold, I'll usually notice before you say anything.
You will not be left alone in the middle of something.
How a Session Ends
Not abruptly.
I'll bring you back gradually — attention returning to the room, to your body, to the present. Then we sit with your eyes open and talk about what happened.
That conversation matters. Things that felt fragmentary during the session often connect while you're describing them out loud. I'll ask what stood out, what surprised you, what your body is doing now.
Then I'll make sure you're properly back before you go anywhere. Grounded, steady, present. Not floaty.
Take a few minutes before you drive or get on with your day.
The Hours and Days Afterwards
Most people are tired that evening. Pleasantly so, usually — the kind of tired that comes after something has been released rather than after effort.
Some sleep unusually deeply. Some dream more than normal for a few nights.
Emotions can move around for a couple of days. You might feel lighter, or oddly flat, or unexpectedly tearful about something unrelated. All of that is a system still settling.
Drink water. Don't schedule anything demanding for that evening if you can avoid it. Let it be a quiet night.
I Check In, and You Can Reach Me
Twenty-four hours after your session, I get in touch.
Not a form. An actual message asking how you are and how the night was.
If things are still moving, I'll give you something simple to help your system settle — small practices, nothing complicated, matched to what you're actually experiencing.
And between sessions, you can contact me. If something surfaces on day three and you don't know what to make of it, you're not sitting with it alone until some future appointment.
I mention this because the fear underneath "what happens in a session" is usually not about the session at all. It's about what happens after, when you're by yourself with whatever came up.
You won't be.
If You'd Rather Try Something Small First
You don't have to book to get a sense of this.
The Meet Your Inner Guide Practice is free and gives you a feel for the guided, inward quality of the work without going anywhere deep. A lot of people start there.
Ready to Talk It Through?
If you've read this and you're still curious, the next step is a conversation rather than a booking.
A free 30-minute clarity call. You can ask anything, including the questions that feel too small or too odd to ask. I'll tell you honestly whether I think this fits what you're describing.
You can also read more about how I work with past life regression before we speak.
Frequently Asked Questions
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Between ninety minutes and two hours. The conversation beforehand, the session itself, and the time settling afterwards are all part of it, and none of them works rushed. The exact length depends on what we're working with and how you respond on the day.
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Usually once a week, or every ten days, depending on how much is moving for you. Working through something benefits from enough space to settle between sessions but not so much that the thread goes cold. We decide the spacing together as we go rather than fixing it in advance.
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Many people don't see images at all. Experience arrives as emotion, physical sensation, or a simple sense of knowing, and any of those is enough to work with. If very little comes, we follow what is there instead — including the resistance itself, which often turns out to be useful.
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No. You remain aware of the room and of my voice throughout, and you can open your eyes and stop whenever you choose. The state isn't something you fall into and can't leave. If anything becomes too intense, we step back from it or end the session entirely.
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Usually yes, but give yourself a few minutes first. I make sure you're properly grounded before we finish rather than sending you straight out the door. If you feel at all floaty or unsettled, sit with a glass of water until that passes. Don't rush off anywhere.
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That happens often and it's completely fine. Emotion surfacing usually means something is releasing rather than something going wrong. There's no need to hold it together for my benefit. We take whatever time you need, and we don't move on until you're ready.
