Dark, Satanic Mills: A past life regression - 19thC Northern England

Discussion in 'Past Life Memories' started by -barry-, Feb 13, 2010.

  1. -barry-

    -barry- New Member

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    On Monday I underwent a past-life regression with a hypnotherapist. It was eye-opening in more ways than one.

    By way of background, I have been suffering from various ailments over recent years. I have a rare and incurable condition affecting my respiratory tract which requires regular surgery, otherwise I would slowly choke to death. For some months I have also had post-viral fatigue — a debilitating state of weakness, severe aches and pains, and a constant ‘flat battery’. I have also been getting headaches and my eyesight has been going blurry. Oh, I also have a weird blotchiness on my skin, like reddish leopard spots. (I sound like a right old mess!)

    Psychologically, I am dealing with a certain conflict around my work. I also have a lifelong problem with excessive shyness. This has been debilitating at times, but these days I am learning to handle it well enough. I do, however, often find normal conversation stressful and will generally try to avoid it.

    My intention with the regression therapy was to see if we could get to the bottom of any of these issues.


    The regression


    After an hour-long introductory chat and exploration of my issues and symptoms, we began with the therapist, Hazel, taking me directly to the source of my throat problem.

    I immediately found myself writhing with discomfort. I seemed to be in a toxic environment. I had no visual imagery as yet, but when asked where I was, I got the impression that I was in a factory — more precisely, one of the classic ‘dark, Satanic mills’ of the Industrial Revolution (from a poem by William Blake). Possibly in Yorkshire (Northern England).

    It was a dark, noisy, bad-smelling place, and I knew that I was slowly being poisoned by it. The word ʻmercuryʼ occurred to me.

    I was wearing something like a top hat, an open jacket, waistcoat and checkered trousers, and I carried a pocket watch. I appeared to be a factory floor supervisor, keeping an eye on the workers. I hated my job. For some reason, though, I had no way out. I was stuck in something I loathed.

    When asked for the name of the place, the first word that came to me was ʻGrimsbyʼ, and then I said with a smile, ʻbut thatʼs just because itʼs grimʼ. The next place name I got was ʻShelbyʼ or possibly ‘Selby’. Both Grimsby and Selby are in Yorkshire.

    Asked how I died, I started choking and writhing in agony. I was dying on a stretcher on the floor of a very dingy little room. I think I was 24 years old.

    We went back to an earlier time. I had been a child on a farm when I first saw this vast building springing up nearby: the new mill (i.e., factory). I was awestruck. I thought, ʻThis is the way of the futureʼ. I was so impressed by its grandeur, and by what we would now call the cutting edge technology, that I wanted to be part of it. I thought it would be so marvelous to join the Industrial Revolution.

    I recall now that I (Barry) was struck by the contrast between the smells of the countryside and farmyard I knew as a child and the disgusting smells of the factory in my adulthood.

    We moved to the next significant event, which looked like my wedding. I was standing outside a church on a sunny day; petals were being thrown over my bride and me. I could see myself through others’ eyes: I was very cheerful, in top hat and tails. I had soft whiskers. I think I was 22 years old.

    I could not get a clear image of my new wife — mostly just the shape of a figure in a wedding dress. I did, however, sense that it could have been a certain cousin in my present life (we were close as children).

    I appeared to be under the thumb of my wifeʼs father. His name, apparently, was Arbuthnot. His first name may have been Reginald, but everyone referred to him as ʻOld Arbuthnotʼ. He was a round, unpleasant, domineering fellow, a loathsome Dickensian character. Perhaps he hadnʼt wanted his daughter to marry me, but she had become pregnant so marriage was unavoidable. I had the impression of him telling me, ʻI own you nowʼ. I was obligated. So I had to work in his factory.

    I was the shop floor supervisor. My job was to keep an eye on the workersʼ productivity, and I was under constant pressure from the owner to make sure the workers did more than a fair dayʼs work for their meagre pay. He wanted me to ensure we squeezed every last drop out of them. He treated them like machines.

    I was also feeling increasingly weak, sick. I knew that I could not physically survive in this environment. My body was poisoned. I could taste metal inside me.

    I found myself in a horribly awkward position. I did not share the owner’s view of the workers; I felt sorry for them, sympathetic, compassionate. In fact, in some ways I was secretly protecting them from Arbuthnotʼs worst demands, though they were not aware of it. I hated my role. But what could I do? I felt powerless.

    I also suspected that the workers all despised me for being on the bossʼs side. And I could well understand why. So I kept away from the workers themselves. I watched them but did not interact with them as far as possible.

    My feelings were also complicated by the fact that although Arbuthnotʼs actions and attitudes were despicable, I could nevertheless see him as a human being with ordinary human flaws. I understood him much better than he understood himself. But again, what could I do?

    I seemed to end up playing a mediating role, serving the factory owner honourably but without letting him cause too much damage to others.

    Then, one day, old Arbuthnot was upset about more local factories springing up, providing too much competition. He required even more out of his workforce, and it was my job to see to it. I knew it would be impossible, and it also felt absolutely wrong. I was in too much conflict, more stress than I could handle. I could see no way out.

    I resigned myself to suicide, took hold of a flask of mercury, and drank from it.

    A short while later I was dying on that stretcher, wheezing to death, my body clenched in agony. Breathing was too much effort and I let go.

    [continues in part 2...]
     
  2. -barry-

    -barry- New Member

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    Dark, Satanic Mills (part 2)


    [part 2]


    I was above my body for a while, unsure of myself.


    I then found myself in a healing space — a sphere of gaseous, multicoloured light. The feelings of toxicity and illness gradually drained out of me. It felt exquisite, but I wasnʼt totally sure if I was meant to be there. I think I was worried that I might be in trouble.


    Asked if there were other beings with me, I was aware of one who seemed kindly and was leading me by the arm. There was more a sense of presence than appearance; the figure just looked like a cloudy humanoid shape. But when I put my attention on the head, a beautiful and loving feminine face came briefly into focus.


    I think I was very disoriented, so I was being led gently, one step at a time, so as not to be overwhelmed.


    When I looked around me, I could perceive mostly a foggy whiteness with a sort of rainbow effect marking the ʻhorizonʼ. But I could sense that this fog was partly in me, or designed for my perception. It was as though what I saw reflected only what I was allowing myself to see, or as much as I could handle. When I decided to really see what was what, I suddenly perceived this vast, multi-coloured three-dimensional vista of space filled with unknown beings. I was overwhelmed, like an ant in a cathedral, and somehow I switched it off, settling for the foggy whiteness, keeping my attention on whatever was going on just around me.


    I was aware of a group of beings coming towards me. They were humanoid in shape, but more like golden light than solid form. We embraced and I had a sense of recognition that this was ʻmy gangʼ.


    I was still quite unsure of myself, however. Some of my attention seemed to be still with the last life; I seemed to have brought a lot of that personalityʼs conflict and confusion with me. I hadnʼt quite disidentified from it as yet.


    When I saw my wife from that life, there was a playful sense between us. She hadnʼt minded me leaving; it had been kind of understood between us. I had, however, become very worried about leaving behind a newborn child.


    When the soul of this child was brought in, I got that my disappearance from the scene was precisely what he/she had planned for in that life. Thatʼs why they had chosen to be born there and then. My death had come somewhat earlier than I had originally planned, but it was an early ‘exit opportunity’ which I had allowed for in my own life plan.


    I then met the souls of the factory workers. I was afraid that they would hate me, but found instead that they had been aware of me trying to quietly protect them. In fact, they hadnʼt despised me, as Iʼd assumed, but only what I represented, what I stood for. In fact, it was they who had felt sorry for me.


    I also learned that if I had persisted with that life, there would eventually have been the opportunity to work with or on behalf of the workers to change the system, to ensure better rights and conditions. I would have been part of a progressive movement. I had already probably missed that opportunity to come, however, by shying away from contact with the workers. I realised that, had I reached out to them I would have made some valuable contacts and friendships, and this would have built up into a kind of collective effort. My fear and misapprehensions had got the better of me however.


    Finally, I met the soul of Arbuthnot. I learned that it had been his task in that life to make my life hell — that had been our agreement. I realised that I had signed up for the challenge, and he had played his part very well. I felt no animosity, just relief that it was over, and a certain amusement at seeing his natural talent for playing such a role.


    I was now ready to end the regression, and desperate for a pee!


    When I opened my eyes I noticed that I could see everything extremely clearly. More on this later.


    [continues in part 3...]
     
  3. -barry-

    -barry- New Member

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    Dark, Satanic Mills (part 3)


    Reflections on the experience


    I still haven’t put together all of the pieces, or identified what it means to me in full. I just have snippets and whiffs of meaning. It’s all a bit too big to take in at once!


    My wife and friends have asked me some really useful questions about it, so here is a compilation of my answers.


    Did it seem real?


    I was not in a deep trance, so for much of the time I was mentally observing the whole thing and questioning the reality of it, but I had determined to surrender to whatever came up and just go with it. I had also just read a regression account by a sceptic who was blown away, and I got that it’s a matter of following/trusting the reality of the emotions regardless of whether I could get any images whatsoever.


    So I just allowed myself to go into a raw emotional state and when the therapist asked me “What’s going on?” I told her how I felt and when she asked “Why?” I just opened up to whatever was there. And lo and behold this consistent scenario unfolded, one fragment at a time. Whether it was a creation of my imagination or a genuine memory I cannot say (I wish I could), but the more time passes since the experience, the more unlikely it seems that I could have imagined such a coherent story. Also, the real point of it for me was the emotional reality. I felt (and still believe) that I was at the core emotional source level of certain issues, and the scenarios that came to my mind happened to explain the emotions I felt in a consistent and coherent way which I found rather impressive.


    I didn’t get very clear imagery — I wasn’t as immersed in it as I would have hoped. It was a bit like looking through murky water. I think if I’d had a longer induction I could have got there — but it was only the first attempt after all. What I got were flashes of imagery as the therapist asked me to look and see and report back.


    There were some aspects of it that were 'invisible' to me — like my wife’s face for example. I don’t know if this was because such details were (a) irrelevant to the emotional process, or (b) not for me to know right now.


    Have there been any after-effects?


    Aha! Well, I’ve always had very good vision, at least in my left eye (my right eye was damaged beyond repair in childhood). However, over the last, say, 5 years the acuity has started to go. I have been getting increasingly short-sighted, unable to read small (and not-so-small) print, asking my kid to read out labels for me, straining to read newspapers and books. I started to wear glasses a couple of years ago, but after a year I lost them and have yet to replace them. I keep writing to-do notes to myself to make an appointment with the optician because my eyesight is getting so poor.


    Well, after the regression I found that my vision was completely back to normal. Seriously! I can read all the small print again without even squinting. In fact, I haven’t found any too small for me to read yet. It’s unbelievable!


    I have no idea if it’s going to stay like this but it’s quite a surprising result to say the least.


    How do you explain that?


    I got the impression that the past life personality was suffering from chronic mercury poisoning, as well as using mercury to take his own life at the end. Perhaps my own issues in recent years have been evoking this past life because of the emotional resonance — and somehow the physical symptoms I was suffering simultaneously then have been ‘reactivated’.


    I’ve been doing some research into mercury use and mercury poisoning since the experience. Until the late nineteenth century, mercury was used primarily in the processing of felt for hatmaking. It was also used in other industries, such as the manufacture of barometers, preserving wood, developing daguerreotypes, silvering mirrors, anti-fouling paints, herbicides, handheld maze games, antiseptics, laxatives, antidepressants and antisyphilitics — and, more recently, dental fillings. It was probably in felting and hatmaking, however, that workers were most exposed to mercury vapours. And there were many hat-works in northern England.


    Mercury was discovered to have debilitating effects on people exposed to it over time. The term ‘mad as a hatter’ is associated with the hatmaker because of the psychosis caused by prolonged mercury exposure.


    Mercury vapour is highly toxic if inhaled, causing severe respiratory tract damage. Now, for the last 10 years I have had a disease affecting my respiratory tract. Left untreated, I would choke to death. And this disease came on just when I discovered that I was going to become a father. I have always sensed that there was a connection between my (then) anxieties about parenthood and the occurrence of this illness affecting my ability to breath. The disease nearly killed me but I chose not to desert my newborn child.


    Aside from the sore throat, coughing, chest pain and breathing difficulties, other physical symptoms of mercury poisoning include headaches (check), loss of teeth (check, in childhood), muscle weakness (check — I have post-viral fatigue), blotchy skin (check) … and blurred vision…


    What’s more, there are psychological symptoms associated with neurological damage caused by mercury poisoning, the main one being my biggest personality issue in this life — extreme shyness.


    What was it like in the between-lives state?


    I was in an emotionally peaceful and expansive state, but mentally I (as that personality) was also in a state of post-mortem confusion. I still had much of that personality and I / he feared that he was in trouble. On another level, I (Barry) sensed that I hadn’t completed my reorientation to the afterlife.


    Interestingly, the Conversations With God books talk about the death process as a sequence of three disidentifications. First you disidentify from the body (floating consciousness, moving to the light). Then you disidentify from the feelings (let go of pain, grief, anxiety, etc). Then you disidentify from the mind – download the memories of that life and remember yourself as soul. I presumably hadn’t got to that bit. I was still mentally identified with that personality. I seemed to feel overwhelmed by the vastness and purity of the afterlife realm and tried to shut it out.


    - barry
     
  4. Nightrain

    Nightrain Senior Registered

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    Barry, your recollections have such detail that they're astounding! I couldn't imagine a more bleak existence than the English mills and Welsh coal mines during the Industrial Revolution. Have you noticed whether your breathing problem has significantly abated, since your regression?


    You are very fortunate to have been able to open your mind to these past life events. Unfortunately, I was very resistant to my regressions, and wrongly expected to be put into a trance which would allow past lives to come forth. Needless to say, things were not as clear as they could have bee.


    Have you done any research, yet, regarding the names of the places and people you remembered? Such validation seems important, if one wished to know whether reincarnation was actually real. However, discovering the source of your symptoms in and of themselves must be incredibly rewarding at the very least.


    Needless to say, I enjoyed your post. Thanks.


    -Nightrain
     
  5. -barry-

    -barry- New Member

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    Hi Nightrain


    It's too early to tell if there's any change in my respiratory tract. I have surgery every 3 months or so which normally keeps it in check before I experience breathing difficulties. My next op is in March and it will be interesting to see what my surgeon says.


    I meditate regularly so I know what my different states of consciousness are like, from light trance to deep meditation. I just decided that I was willing to be only in a light trance and willing to suspend judgement even if in a self-observing state. As I said, the imagery was very fragmentary - it was just a case of getting a flash in response to the questions I was asked. (Maybe my therapist was good at asking questions!) However, also as I tried to explain, the emotional component was my 'hotline' to accessing details. I used my observing awareness to be very aware of my feelings and to go with them, and as my feelings shifted the images/sounds/smells/sensations sprang from them. My critical mind says I was maybe just making subconscious associations to the feelings, but I am impressed at the coherence of the 'story' that emerged, through no conscious effort on my part, and its explanatory power.


    I've done the research and some things point in the right direction but no positive 'hits' as yet. There were many hatmakers and felting factories in northern England in the 19th century in which mercury was routinely used. I don't know if any were in 'Selby'. I have traced the name Arbuthnot and in the 1881 census there were many in Lancashire, not so many in Yorkshire. It's possible the memory was actually Lancashire (there were also more hat-works in Lancashire).


    Of course, these details were so flimsy when they popped into my head, it is difficult to know how reliable they are. But it is striking how self-consistent they all were. It's not like, for example, I had an impression of Victorian England and then a Roman chariot went by! It was like getting lots of random jigsaw pieces and yet it seems that they all show the same picture.


    Thanks for your feedback,


    Barry
     
  6. Nightrain

    Nightrain Senior Registered

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    Hi Barry!


    I'll be here waiting to find out, if you have any new memories, and if your health problems start to improve. I'm looking forward to hearing from you.


    Good Luck!


    -Nightrain
     
  7. Deborah

    Deborah Executive Director Staff Member

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    Thank you for sharing barry - I am reading along and look forward to updates. :)
     
  8. Truthseeker

    Truthseeker Former Moderator

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    Very interesting Barry, thanks for sharing. Please update us if anything new comes up. :)
     
  9. purple

    purple New Member

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    Hello barry,


    I enjoyed reading about your regression and I wish you all the best for your health!


    good luck and keep us posted!
     
  10. Overseas

    Overseas Senior Registered

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    Hi there Barry,


    glad your regression was positive


    imo your current problems at work are in a way the continuation of what had been going on at work in your PL.


    When you left there was something undone that will occur again until you proceed and work it out. But then the regression gave you the solution to that.


    Good luck with it:thumbsup:
     
  11. -barry-

    -barry- New Member

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    Thanks everyone - I'll keep you posted of any further developments.
     
  12. -barry-

    -barry- New Member

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    Follow up


    OK, here's my first follow-up.


    A week ago I had my second session (one month after the above). This was a life-between-lives session in which I first of all went through a past life and then followed it through into the after-death/afterlife/inter-life realm and had conversations with my guides (weird but highly effective!).


    Anyway, as a result of this latest session I've had one positive health result - my fatigue state has at least 90 percent cleared up!


    I've added my latest PLR experience here at this forum:


    http://www.reincarnationforum.com/t...-life-regression-19thc-northern-england.2205/


    and the after-death experiences are here: http://wp.me/pvdM6-15L


    - barry
     
  13. Deborah

    Deborah Executive Director Staff Member

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    Thank you for posting your experiences. I enjoyed the read. ;)
     
  14. Charles Stuart

    Charles Stuart Probationary

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    Fascinating, Barry, thanks for sharing... It is very clearly a past life event, not merely your "imagination"... :thumbsup:
     
  15. -barry-

    -barry- New Member

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    Thanks both. :)
     

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