ISSUE 1 - November 2006

Lee tugged on my arm as we headed towards the hypnotist's office. She looked at me one last time with those eyes, the ones I couldn't resist, so finally I let myself totally succumb to her wishes. We had been friends for years, I trusted her. I followed silently as we strode up the flight of stairs, dark and cold, before emerging into a brightly lit and warm reception. A woman greeted us.

"Hi Lee," she said. Lee nodded.

"And this must be Kevin."

I extended my hand, and shook hers.

"His other client didn't turn up, so you can go right on ahead."

I was a little worried as I opened the door, but the hypnotist's office was a sumptuously warm and inviting environment – even more so than the lobby. There were fabric hangings on the wall, books all around – it looked like a perfect study room, in which some illustrious scholar worked and crafted his words of wisdom. I sat down and felt at ease as Lee sat beside me. The hypnotist smiled warmly, looking at me over his half-moon spectacles. His eyes were marked with lines of laughter and his hair was grey, which all fitted his wise demeanour.

"I know what this one is like," the hypnotist told me jokingly, "are you sure you want a session. Don't let her pressure you into anything."

"It's okay sir, I've been scoffing at her, unfairly. I think I really must try it once."

"Well only if you are sure, young man. And 'sir', what am I, your school teacher? Please just call me Francis."

"Sure, Francis, no problem." I said. Lee just watched with a smile on her face.

"So tell me. Why are you such a sceptic?"

"Well, I noticed that these people, who go through past-life regression, are always someone famous in a past life. Have you never noticed that?"

"Well yes, I have young man. There is a good reason for that. It's all because of the media; television, radio, newspapers, magazines. They want sensational content. I know that most people who have past life regression are not someone famous, and tell of very ordinary lives. Ordinary regressions are never reported."

"Well I am about to find out I guess, whether I was a peasant or not."

"Well, not so hasty young man. We've covered your opinions about past life regression, but I must ask you to set aside everything you think you know about hypnosis in general, for the media has also hyped that up."

"I once read a book called 'Trance', it was all about hypnosis."

"Well that's exactly what I mean now, from the sounds of it, I doubt very much that you were getting the whole picture. Allow me to explain what exactly hypnosis is."

I simple nodded, not sure what really to say to something like that.

"Have you ever been daydreaming, so very deeply that you were not even aware that you were daydreaming?"

"Well, yeh, hasn't everyone?"

"I suppose so. That is what hypnosis is; simply a daydream. We hypnotists take your conscious awareness, and we talk you into a daydream, we take you down into the depths of your mind and there we are able to access your unconscious mind. There is nothing mystical about it; we are just letting your mind have a back seat while we work with your unconscious self."

"Is it dangerous?" I asked, and then I caught sight of Lee rolling her eyes.

"Not at all. I could even ask you to jump out of the window while you are hypnotised, and your mind would reject the instruction. Not that I would of course, but just so you know how it works."

"I see."

"Shall we begin?"

"Yes, why not."

Lee looked rather pleased.

#

This was an interesting place – I was standing beside a marble balcony which overlooked a beautiful garden. The trees all around me ensured that the garden was secluded and peaceful. The hypnotist's voice guided me through this imaginary landscape. I moved towards the steps which lead from the balcony down into the garden, and with ever step I felt more relaxed. When I stepped onto the ground, upon a narrow, gravel path, I felt another wave of relaxation. I could feel all the negative thoughts flowing from me, and I could feel positive thoughts moving more freely within my mind. The air was clear, so very clear and pure. A little stream of water meandered through the garden with its lulling harmony of moving water to my left and it soothed me so much. I walked, or rather I drifted almost floating through the garden as the hypnotist instructed, until at last I came to a dark cave. I entered, and he led me down into the depths of my mind.

His voice told me that I was going back into my past life; to a happy time. Who was I? I drifted for a while in a sea of clouds until at last I could see my surroundings. I stood upon the branches of a large tree, holding on tight, and I was singing my heart out. It was summer, and birds swooped overhead in joyful flight. Beside me, my brothers and sisters played also in the same tree, they weren't singing and so I sang for them as well. I sung the song of all the past eras, of the time of the gods and of the time of the animals and the time of men.

"Who are you?"

"I am a bird."

Around me, summer gleamed and all the exciting possibilities opened up before me. I had no language except my songs, and I needed no other. My brothers and sisters in the basket-shaped nest tweeted as our mother swooped back in and fed, plumed, and tended to them. She came to me then and gave me a knowing look; one which I will never forget; one which was vast in its meaning.

She stretched her wings beside me, and I did likewise. She gave me a nudge which was both unexpected and yet expected - I tumbled and I was gliding down on my wings. The wind rippled through my feathers, a pleasurable caress, branches tumbled past me, the ground rushed up towards me, fear took hold of me and I flapped my wings.

My speed towards the ground decreased and then I struggled upwards, pounding with the age old instincts upon the air; I flew, awkwardly, but with centuries of flight inside my blood. I was through the canopy and swooping into the sky above my tree, my mother beside me now. I was the strongest of my brothers and sisters, I was the first. Upwards and onwards, and my mother was calling me back, bidding me caution, telling me not to fly where the hawks will prey upon me, but I could not stop I was born for this. The sun was halfway from horizon to noon, the blue sky shone like the blue eyes of a goddess, and wispy clouds men call cirrus uncinus clawed across the sky like the claws of the very hawks I should fear, so far above even me, as I soared.

Feathers rippled in the wind as I rolled around to glide back down

I was drifting, looking forward to being with my brothers and sisters and singing of my first flight.

Before me was the face of Francis, a look of grave concern across his face.

"Are you okay?" he asked me worriedly.

"Y-Y-Yes…" I rasped.

"What happened?" he looked very worried, as if I would sue him or something.

"I was flying," I said as a smile cocked across my face, "my first ever flight as a finch."

Lee hit me with a pillow. "And you didn't believe me!"

Relief passed over Francis' face and he went back around his desk to sit in his comfortable looking chair.

"So shall I schedule you in for another session? I think it's best if we don't continue this one, I got quite a fright – from your silence."

"My silence?"

"Yes, you were too busy being a bird, you didn’t comment or even answer our questions. Did you forget that we can’t see what goes on in your mind?"

"Sorry about that. Yes, another session, and I promise I’ll tell you what is happening next time."

"Good. Make an appointment with Jenna on your way out."

We all said our goodbyes and I drifted out, almost still in the ecstasy of the moment, still almost flying and soaring. Lee made the appointment for me, I was still savouring the memories of the experience and how real it had been. We walked down that dark, damp staircase and out into the street.

Above me the autumn leaves, golden, yellow, grey and brown – still adorning the trees – all blew about in the winds. The white clouds rolled endlessly covering that beautiful blue sky I had just been soaring towards. Some leaves had fallen already and blew across my feet. There, in a branch above me was a finch. He was singing a song of the wintertime; he was calling his brothers to fly south; and I wept because I could now understand the eternal language of their song.