Past Life II: Victoria

Door 17

This piece is part of a series in which I write down what I saw when I underwent a past life regression guided by Michelle at Heavenly Treasures, Cannock, UK. The piece starts with the regression itself and then concludes with some of my thoughts afterwards.

The Regression

Light. After the darkness that was prevalent when I entered the life of Jocelyn, then light is the predominant factor. As my eyes adjust, I begin to see that I am in a garden, an English garden with a brick wall and roses climbing up it. I look down. I am wearing a plum-coloured gown. As an aficionado of historical costume, I wonder which era it is. At first, I think it could be mediaeval, but no. then I wonder about 17th century. Slowly, it becomes clear that it is 19th century although, not being able to see myself in the mirror, I am unsure as to when exactly, although the skirts are not supported by a crinoline so probably pre-1850s. There is lace at the sleeve cuffs. Michelle asks me my name and the word ‘Victoria’ comes to mind strongly. She asks me how old I am, and I reply in my thirties.

I live with my parents, and I am unmarried. My job is to look after them as they are old and sick. We are a religious family, staunch Anglicans, of the establishment. My dad might be a vicar although I am unsure about this. I have a strong feeling that he is “old school” and traditional. He rules his family with an iron rod although he is not unkind. Michelle asks if I go out to work and I do teach some classes in the Sunday School but that is all. Father does not believe that women should go out to work. Their place is in the home, and I have my duties there. I should like to work though and sometimes I daydream about it. I also have thoughts of running away and escaping but I know that all that will happen is that I’ll be caught and returned to my father, so these thoughts are never serious.

Michelle asks about other family. I can see a brother. She asks about pets. There is nothing clear, but I sense a cat although it is not important to me.

Michelle asks how I feel about being at home. I tell her that I feel safe there — father would never let any harm come to me — but constrained. I want more.

I am unmarried but I did have a love interest. He is a man of my own age with a beard and a black suit. Michelle asks his name. At first, I think Frank but then Edward comes through clearly. Perhaps Edward is his middle name but that is the moniker he uses. We were happy enough, but it did not work out and he broke off the engagement (I am unsure as to why) and he is now married to someone else. He lives in the town.

I am unsure as to where I am. It is a small town in England, perhaps Yorkshire. I get images in my head of Haworth, but I distrust them because I visited there last year when writing a book on Emily Bronte and I am acutely aware of the similarities between my situation and hers. The garden though, is not from that trip.

Around my town the world is changing. There are pits being sunk and tramways drawn by horses. When I go out for my walks, I see them but only from afar as they are uncouth places and not fit for a lady. I long to go closer and to become part of this change but I am condemned by my sex and family to be merely an observer, and this frustrates me. I want more.

My father is the head of the family, and he is traditional and stern. I have some respect for him even if I wish he were different. My mother is nothing, just a shadow by his side who never questions anything, just agrees with him like a mouse and tells me that, “It would be better if I were quiet”. I have far less respect for her.

I now explore my deepest feelings. I am angry and frustrated inside. On the outside I am a pious, dutiful daughter who has a nice comfortable life. Inside, I long to be far away doing different things. I feel bad about this because I have seen the poor people and the lame at church (I do charity work to help them) and I know that I am lucky having such a lovely garden to walk in, fine dresses, a family that cares and a couple of servants to help. But still, I feel frustrated. I feel that I am two-faced, strange, and evil but I keep these feelings inside. I also feel hopeless. What chance is there of anything changing? Perhaps after mother and father die, but then I shall probably go and live with my brother John, and will that be any better? I am an awful person.

Michelle asks me to fast-forward ten years. I am now living with my brother John and his wife although the surroundings are less clear. I might still be in the garden which suggests that he could have inherited father’s house although this is unclear. My attitude has changed. I feel more bitter and frustrated than before.

I talk about Edward. I was engaged to him but he married someone else. She is a pathetic thing, brainless and dull. He is a solicitor (or something similar) in the town, and I see them with their children regularly out and about and in church. I have realised that he is also very boring and dull and that I probably never loved him at all. If I had married him, my life would have been no better than it is now.

All around the world is changing. There are more mines and industry and there is talk of a railway coming to the town. These developments interest and excite me and yet still I am condemned to being an observer, never a participant.

My brother John, like Edward, is extremely dull and boring and his wife — her name does not come to me — is a pathetic thing, blonde, stupid, and annoying. Why he married her I have no idea. Actually, I do. She suits him.

In my spare time I read which I enjoy because it allows me to escape and write poetry. It is not very good, but it allows me to release my frustrations. I never share it though because it would be improper to do so. I still live the double life, pious and dutiful on the outside, frustrated, strange and bad on the inside. I feel imprisoned but then know that so many would be happy to have my life. The problem is me although I am starting to blame the world a bit. What really frustrates me is that there is no escape. Edward would not have been an escape and mother, and father’s deaths were not an escape. Why has God condemned me to this imprisonment in my home?!

Michelle asks me to think about my death. I am in either my fifties or sixties and I die in bed in my brother’s house with him, his wife, and the servants tending to me. I got ill — I know not which illness — and I have lost my mind. I rave sometimes and shout obscenities. I am angry with God. All my life I followed the rules and did my duty, and this is the result. It is so unfair. The bitterness and frustration are palpable.

Now Michelle asks me to leave the room and return to the corridor.

Reflections

This was my second regression and much clearer and more convincing than the first. Right from the start I identified with Victoria and her life was more crystallised. Whilst Jocelyn was hazy, she was clear. Emotionally, I really felt her pain and frustration. Again, she was me, not an external character.

Nonetheless, I still had doubts. The similarity between her situation and that of my friend S disquieted me. Was my mind merely subconsciously imagining how I would feel if I were S? Conversely though, did I empathise with S’s situation so powerfully because I had once been Victoria. Chicken and egg.

Also disquieting were how similar parts were to Emily Bronte’s life which was imprinted in my mind after visiting the Bronte Parsonage, reading her books, and writing a novel about her. Particularly, the images of Haworth I saw were taken from my day trip there. Admittedly, the Industrial Revolution imagery is not from Haworth, but I have long held an interest in industrial archaeology and horse-drawn tramways in particular, and I recently watched ‘Gentleman Jack’ which dealt with such scenes (and similar frustrations over a woman’s role in Victorian society) in a Yorkshire setting. Conversely, I could have been drawn to Emily, Haworth, horse-drawn tramways, S, and ‘Gentleman Jack’ because of Victoria. Chicken and egg.

Another factor that makes me wary are some of the characters in Victoria’s life. Her father reminds me of my maternal granddad, her brother is my brother (although the wife is not my sister-in-law), conformist and not as interesting or inquisitive as I’d like him to be. And is Edward a projection of my former love E whom I fell madly in love with when I was young, she married someone else and ended up having a rather dull life? In recent years I have come to realise that we would probably have never been happy together. Conversely, could Edward be E reincarnated as a man and our destiny over many lives be entwined? We are thrown together and my job is to try and break her out of her conformist (and ultimately unsatisfying) mould whilst hers is to either accept the danger or to be my warning about projecting perfection onto someone who is simply not my soulmate? When we did separate, I felt strongly that there had been a purpose to us and that she had missed her opportunity, but again, a psychologist might argue that all this is merely wistful thinking.

Overall, though, I do feel that this regression was far more real and convincing. It explains why I, a man, has such a passion for empowering those who do not have the opportunities that I have, particularly women. It could also explain many other things such as my interest in Victorian female costume, my choice of Leeds in Yorkshire for my degree, my absolute distaste of traditional patriarchal male society and individuals, and my socialism which aims to create a more equal, liberated society.

The journey continues.

Written 30/10/2023, Stoke-on-Trent to London Euston, UK

Copyright © 2023, Matthew E. Pointon