When I was a teenager, my mom attended a past life workshop at the Omega Institute led by Brian Weiss. After hearing her describe her regression experience, I immediately picked up his book and devoured it. Soon, my school assignments didn’t stand a chance compared to my new obsession: having a past life regression of my own.

Not long after, I found a class at a local metaphysical center and begged my dad to drive me the 45 minutes to attend. While my peers were off at soccer practice, I was buzzing with excitement for this training. I was certain that I was about to uncover a magical past life as a prince, an alchemist, or some other long-forgotten adventure.

The workshop was a group regression with about twenty participants, all of whom were at least three times my age. We all lay face up on the ground, while the teacher settled onto a meditation pillow nearby and instructed us to begin softly chanting the words “Efil tsap… Efil tsap.”

As the group chanted in unison, my teenage brain couldn’t get quiet. Instead I kept thinking, what on earth does Efil tsap mean?

My imagination ran wild for a moment. Was this the name of her intergalactic spirit guide? Was it some kind of cult mantra? Then she explained: she was saying “Past Life” backwards to help us set our intention for this journey into the past.

Of course, my inner class clown started cracking up. What other words could we say backwards? Should I introduce myself as llaguod?

But eventually, as I breathed in and out, the initial giggles gave way to a deep relaxation.

The teacher guided us into a trance and asked gentle questions as we drifted across waves of time:

Where are you?
What are you wearing?
What time or era are you in?

Others in the group began describing intricate scenes and period clothing. I listened with envy. It sounded amazing, but why couldn’t I see anything?

The teacher stopped by my spot, and I felt her hand rest on my shoulder.

“Dougall, what do you see?”

“I don’t see anything.”

“Are you sure? Keep looking,” she said patiently.

Without thinking, the words tumbled out: “I can’t see… because I’m blind.”

As soon as I said it, I felt a breeze move through me. I suddenly knew that in that lifetime, my (current) mother and I were siblings who ran a store together.

My “vision” wasn’t visual at all, it was more like a multisensory experience. I could hear, smell, and sense a life that was both challenging and full of joy.

The most profound moment came at the end of the journey. As we were guided to leave that lifetime, I felt my soul floating above the room. The teacher invited our guardian angels to share a message that connected that past life to our current one. My message came through to me crystal clear:

In this current life, your physical and intuitive sight are essential.

After experiencing blindness in another lifetime, I returned with a deeper appreciation for vision. I not only came back with the ability to see with my eyes, but also the gift of intuitive sight. Decades later, I still marvel at the poetry of it. I’ve spent nearly 30 years sharing what I “see” around people, as if I came back to this lifetime just to express gratitude for my vision.

That very first past life regression changed me forever. What began as teenage curiosity turned into a lifelong reminder: the soul holds wisdom that can shape how we live today.

That’s why Radleigh Valentine and I created Oracle Shift, a brand-new program designed to help you explore the wisdom of your own soul through past lives and parallel experiences.