Desert Shaman Past Life Regression Experience: My Session and Integration Notes

Written By Brandi Fleck

This is a real case study of a one-on-one past life regression I had with Hannah Bethel, board certified hypnotherapist, based near Nashville, Tenn.

 

I’m Brandi Fleck, host of the Human Amplified podcast. What follows is a true account of my past life regression session facilitated by hypnotherapist Hannah Bethel of Hi-Fi Healing in Nashville, Tennessee. The session itself ran about two and a half hours. An intake session preceded the hypnotherapy session.

If you’re new to this work, my past life regression guide explains what to expect, how to prepare, and how integration works.

Here’s the video with real footage of the actual past life regression session if you’d prefer to watch instead.

 

What a Past Life Regression Feels Like (Real Experience)

We didn’t film the full induction (about twenty minutes), but by the time we started, my body felt incredibly relaxed and heavy. I also had a massive tension headache that Hannah and I suspected was connected to emotional weight I’d been carrying across lifetimes. It was distracting, and I’ll be honest—I was experiencing some disbelief, even as I went under.

Hannah began with gentle prompts and breathwork, guiding me to an early childhood memory. I landed in my grandparents’ basement in South Carolina—concrete floors, fake-grass carpet, red wood trim. It felt safe, like a space set up just for me. I saw my little tap dance costume from a recital where I played a postman, sequined letter and all. It surprised me that this is where I landed, but the sense of safety was unmistakable.

For a step-by-step overview of induction, safety, and session flow, see my beginner’s guide to past life regression.

The Spinning Vortex (and How We Grounded)

Then something strange happened: I started spinning. Not metaphorically—my body felt like it was in a vortex, my center anchored while the rest of me rotated, like a board-game spinner arrow. It wasn’t scary, just intense, and it made me nauseous. We paused. I took out a few crystals I had tucked into my pockets, thinking they would ground me—but the energy moving through me was simply more than my body could handle at that moment. Hannah guided me through a grounding exercise. The spinning calmed.

Why Childhood Scenes Often Come First

Hannah moved me through gentle regressions to early, peaceful moments. I remembered crawling around in a red zip-up onesie in my grandmother’s West Virginia living room—playing a little trickster game by swiping my bottle back and forth while my mom and grandma laughed. I’d had this preverbal memory for years, but revisiting it under hypnosis brought a different kind of clarity: connection, lineage, and joy. It also gently warmed up the inner sensory channel we’d need later for heavier work.

Womb Regression & The Void: A Pre-Birth Memory

Next, Hannah guided me deeper into the void. It was still, quiet, and oddly peaceful. I don’t think this is typical for all past life regressions, but it’s where I felt comfortable landing as we started regressing further. Even in my own meditation practice, I oftentimes end up in teh void before journeying elsewhere.

From there, she invited me to regress into the womb. I saw my tiny hand, and the space around me looked like oranges, yellows, and reds. It reminded me of the basement: pockets of light and shadow, a place just for me.

In session, I said: “I’m excited to come into this life. I want to experience lots and lots of people. It feels miraculous to get to be a person.”

That excitement felt important. I had a sense of wonder about the world and knew that life is a gift. I sensed I was protected from my mom’s stress so I could keep that sense of wonder intact.

What I Was Feeling Internally (Editor’s Notes)

During this part, I held two parallel experiences: I saw the womb in my mind’s eye as if I were there, while also being acutely aware of my physical body on the table. The Violet Flame, a spiritual tool I’ve experienced in meditation, appeared behind my eyelids. It has shown up for me before, blazing and then settling into a small flame I carry with me. Here, it felt like transmutation was underway.

We took a quick bathroom break. My eyes wanted to fly open with the energy pulsing through, and I felt resistance—“why me?” vibes. Hannah reflected something that later became central to the whole session: trusting my divinity and the way Spirit communicates with me.

Inner Child Healing with Hypnotherapy (Gently Meeting the “Part”)

After the break, Hannah invited me to meet the part of me that didn’t believe the good stuff was for me.

In session, I said: “She’s young and afraid. The more she shines, the harsher her stepdad comes down on her. She says, ‘You can’t be special.’ But she also knows she has to be special to get out.”

Afterwards, Hannah and I discussed the Ouroboros symbolism depicted as a snake eating it’s own tail. In other words, oftentimes, the venom is actually the cure. We pondering how this applied to my life.

In the moment, Hannah helped me take her hands. What she needed most was not to be alone. I walked this little one up the timeline of my life, showing her what I’ve built—love, family, even my cozy office. She integrated back into me “like a long-lost puzzle piece.”

Time got weird here—it collapsed in on itself and all my realties became one. I realized I had just traveled in time and visited my younger self in a dream/daydream where she was years ago and had given her hope. That feeling I once had—the inner, inexplicable certainty about meeting my husband—clicked into place. I’d helped my younger self recognize pivotal people and moments when they arrived.

Past Life in the Desert: Shaman, Standing Stones & A Vow of Silence

Then we crossed the threshold into a past life.

I was a woman in my 30s in a desert landscape, moccasins on my feet, vast blue sky, and three massive white standing stones forming a doorway. I was a shaman, and this was where I was meant to be. I watched the sun move through the stones over days in silence. Present. Still. Aware. And grieving.

Initiation and the Cost of Silence

Hannah guided me back to the initiation. In a bustling community shelter, a leader declared, “It’s time.” I packed a small satchel, said goodbye to family—my brother, nephew, perhaps my mother. Others had done similar journeys, but this time it was just me. I was going to decide in solitude if the vow of silence for the community’s spiritual leader was for me. If it was, it would be lifelong.

Back in childhood in that life, the women taught me to cook over the fire; one gave me a handmade toy. I was part of something harmonious and big. Later, a boy I loved wanted a different path—home, family, community—and I chose the other way. I watched him find love and felt happy for him… and torn. It was the first of many sacrifices I made for the path.

The path did choose me. I took the vow of silence.

Years of Quiet, and a Scream That Never Came

The years that followed were mostly peaceful—and boring. People visited me to be near whatever I carried from the stones, and still I felt numb and disconnected. When my brother died late in life, I wanted to scream. I didn’t. I held it in. The vow had become a cage.

On my last day, loved ones gathered, yet I felt alone. I crossed over quickly. Even in spirit, it took time before I could “talk” again—the vow was that ingrained. I went to a place of healing on the other side.

Spirit Guides, Recalibration, and A Blue Spiral at My Throat

While that past-life healing integrated while I lay there still in trance, I saw a huge spinning blue spiral above my face—thin, fast, and non-solid—like a cylinder made of motion. I sensed it as a throat clearing (it sure felt that way), and I simply held space while it “wound down.”

Then I met my spirit guides.

I sensed three primary guides (with others in the background), together off to my left. They looked like minimal monoliths—popsicle-shaped columns, the outside two black (feminine), the center white (masculine). They moved in a staticky way, taking turns stepping forward.

If I could distill down everything they said into one paragraph, it would be that the lesson of that shaman life was the importance of connection—not only with the Divine, but with other people. In that life, I learned it the hard way by not connecting. I thought silence would bring me closer to God, but because it had separated me so much from the people I loved and were in community with, it actually separated me from God because we are all God.

In this life, I don’t have to repeat that pattern. Connection is possible, and it doesn’t have to hurt. I can use my voice. I can let myself be seen.

The Violet Flame and the “Eye” Spiral

As we released old vows, another, thinner blue spiral appeared with a simple eye at its center—lashes and all. It felt protective. Later, I would look up the “Eye of the Universe” and find a video game reference that sent me on a mini synchronicity trail. The specifics matter less than the felt sense: I was starting a new life within this life, with ancient wisdom baked in.

After a Past Life Regression: Headache Relief and Somatic Shifts

Coming out of trance, I felt like I was returning from very far away. The tension headache had eased during the session and was completely gone by the time I got home—even though I drove through a severe thunderstorm. I’ve historically been very sensitive to barometric pressure shifts; headaches were common when storms rolled in. After the regression, I didn’t get one. Other chronic muscle tension started to release, too. (That’s my personal experience; everyone is different, and I’m sharing only what happened for me.)

I also felt deeply relaxed, more than I had in years. The energy continued moving and integrating throughout the rest of the day and the weeks that followed.

Takeaways: What I Learned from My Past Life Regression

I learned very important lessons about inner child healing, connection over sacrifice (none of us have to be martyrs), using my voice, and trusting my divinity.

Inner Child Healing Through Hypnosis

Meeting the “young and afraid” part inside me showed how early punishment for shining taught me to hide. The ouroboros image came up—the snake eating its tail—because the way out was also the way through. I needed to reclaim the very specialness I’d been punished for. Walking her up my life’s timeline and integrating her back into me was profoundly stabilizing.

Connection Over Sacrifice

That past life shone a light on a belief I’d been carrying: that spiritual paths are about sacrifice and silence. In that life, I chose separation, and it hurt. In this life, the guides made it clear: I don’t have to do it that way. The most divine path for me is learning how to be with other humans—deep, rich, genuine connection—and to do it with my voice intact.

Using My Voice (Throat Chakra Release Story)

The blue spiral at my throat felt like a clearing. I could finally feel how many times I’d held back tears, truths, and sounds to stay “safe.” The vow of silence dissolved. The contract is void. I can speak.

Trusting My Divinity

That wobbly “why me?” resistance didn’t stand a chance once the Violet Flame arrived and the guides stepped forward. The message repeated in different metaphors throughout the session—”This is for you:” the womb space that was “just for me,” the basement safe place “just for me,” and the flame “just for me.” It was an invitation to receive.

A Step-By-Step Window Into a Hypnotherapy Session (For the Curious)

Note: Every regression is different. This is simply how mine unfolded with Hannah Bethel’s facilitation.

1) Gentle Induction

We set the space, and Hannah guided me into trance with breath and body relaxation. I felt my limbs get heavy and soft.

2) Current Life Regression (Early Childhood Memories)

We anchored in a safe place (grandparents’ basement) and a playful memory (blue carpet, bottle tug-of-war with my mom and grandma). This set the tone for safety and connection.

3) The Void and Womb Regression

Stillness. Wonder. Colors. The felt sense that being human is a gift. Protection around me so I could keep my curiosity intact.

4) Inner Child Work

We met the part that couldn’t believe good things were for me, gave her companionship, and walked her into present time. She integrated back into me with excitement.

5) Past Life Regression

Desert. Standing stones. Vow of silence. Choosing the path of the shaman, then swimming in years of quiet that ultimately led to disconnection. The heartbreak of a suppressed scream when my brother died.

6) Death Transition and Healing

A quick crossing over, then a place of healing where the vow loosened its grip.

7) Guides and Recalibration

Three monolith-like spirit guides emphasized the key lesson: connection. Blue spirals cleared old contracts. I received permission to use my voice.

8) Integration

Gratitude. Breath. Slowly returning. And later, tangible somatic shifts.

Hypnotherapy in Nashville: A Personal Experience

If you’re looking for a human account of hypnotherapy in Nashville, this is mine. The way Hannah tracks breath, leaves space, and knows when to ground and when to deepen made all the difference—especially during the spinning vortex and the intense energy surges. She never forced a meaning. She let me experience it, then asked precise questions: What are you feeling? Why might this matter now? That gentle structure helped me move from “this is happening to me” to “this is happening for me.”

Why Past Life Regression Was Worth It (for Me)

  • It reframed a lifelong assumption that growth equals sacrifice.

  • It gave me permission to connect without fear that connection will inevitably hurt.

  • It unclenched my throat. I don’t need to earn my right to speak.

  • It relieved a long-running tension headache and coincided with a noticeable shift in how my body responds to storms.

  • It re-introduced me to my guides and reminded me that this life is for me.

I was integrating the experience for a while, but the path felt less like a corridor of stone and more like a living room with soft blue carpet, laughter, and people I love.

Final Thoughts: If You’re Curious About a Past Life Regression Experience

A past life regression is not about fact-checking dates and places; it’s about what your body, emotions, and spirit are ready to show you so that you can live freer now. For me, the symbols were simple and unmistakable: a bubble of light that travels time, standing stones, a Violet Flame, spirals, and three quiet sentinels who reminded me what matters.

Connection is possible. Connection doesn’t have to hurt. And my voice—your voice—is part of the medicine.

If you’ve had experiences like these, I’d love to hear them. If you haven’t and you’re curious, consider working with a practitioner whose presence helps your system feel safe. That safety is the doorway. The rest arrives when it’s time.

Ready to explore the process, preparation, and integration tips? Read more about the entire process in my complete guide to past life regression.

 

Join the conversation!

Feel free to let me know if you have any questions in the comments.

 

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Hi, I’m the founder of Human Amplified. I’m Brandi Fleck, a recognized communications and interviewing expert, a writer, an artist, and a private practice, certified trauma-informed life coach and Reiki healer. No matter how you interact with me, I help you tell and change your story so you can feel more like yourself. So welcome!


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Past Life Regression: What to Expect and How It Works