Human beings have always created stories to organize their emotional experience. 

Dreams do it. Literature does it. Religious traditions do it. The unconscious appears to do it as well. Whether the images that arise during regression are autobiographical memories, symbolic narratives, or something we cannot yet explain, they often carry psychological truths worthy of thoughtful exploration rather than immediate belief or dismissal.

Why People Seek Regression Therapy

Regression work often attracts people who are already asking deeper questions. Some have read Brian Weiss or Michael Newton. Others have experienced déjà vu, recurring dreams, near-death experiences, or an unshakable sense that a particular relationship, fear, or life pattern has deeper roots than they can explain. Some arrive simply because traditional therapy has helped them understand themselves, yet something essential remains unresolved.

As a psychologist, I have found that the most interesting question is rarely whether an experience is literally true. More often, the better question is this: Why has this particular experience emerged for this person at this point in their life? 

Trying to decipher whether an experience is literally true is not the goal. Psychological healing has rarely depended upon historical proof. The unconscious often communicates through symbol, metaphor, and narrative. Sometimes what emerges feels like memory.  Sometimes it feels symbolic. Occasionally it resists explanation altogether. 

My role is not to decide what someone should or should not believe. It is to help them understand what the experience means in the context of their life.

A Psychologist’s Approach

I was trained in clinical hypnosis more than thirty-five years ago—not because I wanted to help people stop smoking, lose weight, or change unwanted habits, but because I was fascinated by the unconscious mind and by age regression as a therapeutic tool. Over time, my work expanded to include age regression, past life regression, and Life Between Lives exploration. Although these approaches differ, they share a common purpose: creating a space where deeper emotional material can emerge, be understood, and ultimately integrated into one’s life. Regression itself is never the destination. It is one possible doorway into knowing the present more deeply.

In my practice, hypnotic regression is sometimes separate from psychotherapy. Whether someone seeks regression specifically or it arrives through ongoing therapy, the experience is framed with thoughtful consultation, careful assessment, and meaningful integration. The regression itself is only one part of the process. The images themselves are only part of the work. Lasting change comes from what happens after the regression, as recurring themes, current conflict, and the ways those experiences block change in the present are integrated.

Margaret

Margaret was in her twenties when she came to therapy after both of her parents were killed in a car accident. An only child, she was overwhelmed by anxiety, chronic insomnia, and a profound sense of loss. She was happily married to a supportive husband, yet despite repeated attempts, she was unable to conceive.

We spent considerable time together using psychodynamic psychotherapy, cognitive approaches, EMDR, and other interventions. While each was helpful in its own way, something remained unresolved. Change came but never stayed.

Margaret had never read Brian Weiss or Michael Newton. She knew nothing about regression therapy and had not sought it out. After careful assessment and preparation, we agreed to explore it as one part of her treatment.

Over the course of three regression sessions, a consistent theme emerged. In different settings and relationships, she repeatedly experienced the loss of people who were deeply significant to her. Whether they appeared as parents, siblings, mentors, or other attachment figures, the emotional pattern was strikingly similar: those she loved left too soon. However, they all drew a likeness to the parents she had lost a few years back. 

Near the end of the third and last regression session she said quietly, “This is not going to happen again.”

Within several months, Margaret became pregnant. She later gave birth to healthy twins. And outside of the normal postpartum anxiety and craziness that comes even more with twins, she was doing well. 

Noone can say with certainty what happened. Nor would I suggest that outcomes like occur this every day. What is profound is not simply the pregnancy, but the psychological shift that preceded it. Something that had remained emotionally unresolved for years appeared to reorganize. Something changed. Drastically.  Whether that experience is understood psychologically, symbolically, spiritually, or in some other way is ultimately less important to me than the fact that it became a meaningful turning point in her life.

Living with Mystery

Over nearly four decades, my work has left me open to possibilities I once viewed differently. While I remain firmly grounded in psychological science, clinical training, and thoughtful assessment, I no longer assume that every meaningful human experience can be neatly explained by our current understanding of the mind.

I have come to appreciate that not everything of value can be measured in a laboratory. Love cannot. Grief cannot. The symbolic language of dreams cannot. The human search for meaning has always extended beyond what science can explain at any given moment in history.

Regression therapy lives at that intersection—where psychology, lived experience, and mystery sometimes meet.

Regression therapy is not appropriate for everyone. Careful screening and preparation are essential. During our initial consultations, we’ll determine together whether this approach is appropriate for your history, your goals, and your readiness.

Click here for more information on Regression Therapy and here for Regression Intensives.