My first encounter with past lives was during a weekend rebirthing retreat held in Blue River City back in the late 1980s. I was part of a group of about thirty strangers, all of us there with a shared desire: to become better people.
The retreat was centred around breathwork, but various yoga and psychotherapy-based activities were woven throughout the sessions.
On this particular day, we were invited to participate in a Past Life Walk—an activity designed to help us tune into bodily responses and possibly identify sensations or visions that might still linger from other lifetimes. Someone mentioned accessing the Akashic Records, a term I wasn’t familiar with at the time. I had no idea what I was about to do, but I followed the guided meditation exactly as instructed.
When it was my turn to do the walk—which involved slowly moving around the inside of a circle of people seated on chairs—I was nervous. I had watched a few people go before me, and my mind was blown. Not everyone experienced something profound, but some clearly did.
I raised my hand, and the facilitator chose me. We had already done some deep meditation and breathwork, so we were in the zone. I stood, barefoot on the parquetry floor of the hall, and began walking slowly as dates were called out loud.
At first, nothing happened. The facilitator began calling dates from the 20th century. I stayed open, observing my internal state, but all I heard was my inner sceptic: “Hazel, what the hell are you doing in front of all these people?” I ignored the voice and kept walking.
As the dates continued—into the 19th century, then the 18th—I felt nothing out of the ordinary. But then someone called out 1721, and everything changed.
My body suddenly felt incredibly heavy, like I was carrying a weight on my back or suffering from a severe stoop. I could barely hold myself upright. My feet began to shuffle. My eyes were drawn downward, and I saw cobblestones. People around me said they could hear my bones cracking. I was only twenty years old at the time, but in that moment, I felt ancient.
The facilitator encouraged me: “Keep going, Hazel. Remember to breathe. We’ll keep counting down and see if there are any other lives wanting to be remembered.”
I was a little freaked out but continued walking, breathing, and noticing. Then, another date was called. I don’t remember the exact year, but as it was spoken, my posture changed again. This time, I had a flash of being a man—tall and strong, wearing heavy, gold-like armour. I looked down and saw leather sandals and masculine feet. The sensation was fleeting, but vivid. I wish I remembered whether it was B.C. or A.D., but I’m sure it was in the early hundreds.
I remember those wild activities from the retreat so clearly because I wrote everything down. I shared my experiences with friends, though I’m sure some of them thought I was losing it—or had joined a cult. I didn’t really know how to articulate what I’d gone through. How do you tell someone you think you just experienced your past lives? Looking back, I wonder if we were slightly hypnotised during the process.
Fast forward to yesterday. I was visiting my favourite fashion and gift shop when a pack of oracle cards practically jumped off the shelf at me. I knew I had to buy them: Past Life Oracle Cards by Doreen Virtue and Brian L. Weiss.
Again, I was sceptical. How could a deck of cards offer insights into my past lives? Still, I read the back of the pack, paid my twenty-five dollars, picked up a few other things, and hugged the beautiful woman who owns the shop.
At home, I left the cards on the dining room table overnight. The next morning, Ron picked up the little box and read the title aloud.
“Yeah, I bought them yesterday,” I said. “I was curious. Want to try them with me?”
He said no at first. But after I pulled a few cards, he became interested.
The first card I drew was “Biblical”—suggesting a significant past life in that era. Then I pulled three cards related to life lessons I’m still working on: “Forgiveness,” “Scribe or Writer,” and “Food and Hunger.”
I laughed out loud. “Wow, oh my God. Ron, look at this!”
I explained the meanings and couldn’t help but notice the synchronicity. Forgiveness? Definitely something I still struggle with. Scribe or Writer? I am a writer—and I want to write so much more. And “Food and Hunger”? Ron and I are currently in the middle of a seasonal detox—we’re literally hungry on purpose! He’s joined me for the last few fasts, and we’re both deeply engaged in that journey.
So yes, the cards resonated. Strongly.
Of course, nobody can know for sure. But I keep a dream journal, especially for vivid or lucid dreams. I’ve had a dream where I was a man, making love to a woman, and I remember what it felt like to have a penis! LOL—I have to laugh, it keeps me sane.
My life might seem crazy to others, but it makes complete sense to me—and that’s all that really matters.
Contemplating past lives is perfectly acceptable from where I sit. If the universe keeps sending me clues, synchronicities, and nudges, I feel compelled to share them—through writing.
Past Life Cards 29/5/2025
