Take me back

IMAGINE you're on the top of a building - any building, said Carole Chui. Her voice, calm and unhurried, came to me from somewhere beyond the pleasant, relaxed place where I was.

And there, right on cue, was the building: an ancient tower of some kind. I wasn't on it or in it exactly: but it was there before my mind's eye.

There are some steps, said Carole. They're wide, pleasant steps, and they're leading you down somewhere where you want to go. I didn't want to go, particularly: but she led me down anyway - counting me gently down the shallow flight.

You're in a corridor, came her voice. A corridor with doors leading off. You're walking along the corridor. It's going upwards. You've got a golden key in your hand. It's a key to one of the doors.

Choose a door you like, put the key in, and open the door. Have you found a door you like? No, I wanted to say. Or was it: I don't believe any of this. But in my mind's eye I let myself be led.

What do you see? Carole asked. "Nothing." Is it dark? "Yes." Can you hear anything, or feel anything? "I can feel the walls. They're stone." Are there any windows? "No." Any doors? "No." I could hear her pause for thought.

Part of me wanted to giggle, but part of me didn't. Am I really hypnotised? I wondered, sleepily. OK. Turn around and leave the room, Carole said. Can you do that? "Yes."

I'd come to the Healing Clinic in Fulford Cross in response to a challenge. Carole, a trained clinical hypnotherapist, asked me: have you ever been regressed to a previous life through hypnosis?

The answer was no. Nor did I much want to be: or, indeed, believe in the possibility. You don't necessarily have to believe you're actually going back to a past life, she assured me: though many people do believe so.

Whether you believe it or not, it can be very therapeutic.

Really? How? "Any form of hypnosis is in itself a great form of relaxation. But people have got two reasons for doing past life regression. One is the New Age spiritual search, but the other is to find the roots of a problem.

If you can't find it in this life, perhaps there's a reason you've carried over from a past life." Even if you didn't believe that, she added, hypnotherapy was a deeply peaceful experience in which the mind could search out the roots of a problem itself.

Well, maybe. Still unconvinced, I agreed to come. After all, I thought, if you don't try something... So it was I found myself sitting in a comfortable chair in Carole's warm room at the Healing Centre, feet up on a rest.

Part of you, the critical part, will always remain aware, she told me, passing judgement on the rest of you. "You might find yourself thinking 'My God, why did I say that?'" she said. "Don't be surprised if your critical faculty is still awake.

" I won't be, I promised her silently. And so began my journey. I closed my eyes and in a slow, languorous voice she counted me down into a state of deepest relaxation.

I was faintly surprised she'd managed it: but too relaxed to be very surprised. She took me to the tower; down the steps to the corridor; into the dark room; back out to the corridor again. Try another door, she said. Try a door that's significant to you.

None of them were, particularly. But I opened one door anyway. Can you see anything? "Sunlight." Gradually, she teased information out of me. I was standing on ancient flagstones, in a courtyard filled with morning sunshine.

Ruined walls were covered in foliage: bright, flashing, multi-coloured birds sang from the undergrowth. I was utterly alone. Do you know who you are? Carole asked. "No." Do you know why you're here? "I'm waiting." Waiting for what? A person? An event? "An event." What? "I don't know."

She asked me to float above the single figure standing in the courtyard, urged me to go back in time - 'Back along the time-line' she phrased it - to when I, in my guise as the figure in the courtyard, was a child.

An image of ships in a harbour flashed suddenly before my eyes: huge, towering ships as seen through the eyes of a very young child. Ancient-seeming single-sailed ships with sharp prows. There was a bustle of activity: tall figures in purple and other dyed robes carrying things to and from the ships.

Now do you know who you are? she asked. "No," I said: and suddenly I was filled with an overwhelming sense of grief. My chest heaved, and I felt on the point of tears. Curiously, though, it wasn't at all an unpleasant feeling: more a release than anything.

When Carole counted me up out of my trance, I awoke refreshed. I don't for a moment believe I really travelled back to a past life, though some people do. Throughout I was aware that I was essentially in control. It was more like a dream state than anything; but one in which I, with Carole's guidance, could shape events.

Perhaps it was simply an outlet through which my mind could release some of the pent-up strains and stresses of modern life, I thought. Whatever, it was deeply relaxing and left me with a lingering feeling that there was more to life than the mortgage and the next day's deadlines. When approaching a hypnotherapist, it's worth checking their qualifications and experience.

No reputable hypnotherapist will object. Carole Chui herself can be contacted through the Healing Clinic in York's Fulford Cross on 01904 679868 or on 704543. Past life regression sessions cost £20, other hypnotherapy sessions £30.