The other evening I went to an open house at HCH Institute, where I am planning to get my clinical hypnotherapy certification this winter, and had two very interesting experiences with example sessions they conducted. The institute is located on a hillside in Lafayette, CA., in a building with multiple levels, and had a very eclectic layout and decor that suits me fine. At the end of the evening, they conducted two sessions for the people who wanted to stay on after the presentations. One session was hypnosis and the other was called a Shamanic Journey.
During the first session, one of the faculty played the harp while another walked around the room, conducting the session. I usually have a difficult time in groups. I’m self-conscious and have a hard time letting go with other people around. This time was very different: As soon as I closed my eyes I was in another place that was so pervasive that I didn’t want to leave. Not only that, but afterwards the room felt awkward, like it was the “wrong” shape and smaller that it should be.
What I saw when I closed my eyes was a lush forest. it often takes me a while to form some kind of image, but this time it was just there as soon as I looked. All the people in the room were there as well, but different. The man playing the harp was still playing the harp, but he was a stag-like creature, thin, with dark fur, hooves and spiky, branching horns sticking straight up. Yes, it seemed a bit weird that a creature with hooves could play the harp, but there you go. The woman conducting the session was a transparent, white, ghostly entity. She seemed both a gray-white ball floating at head height and trailing transparent streamers down to the floor, and a white ghost woman wearing long robes. The rest of the people were just dark lumps that didn’t move, exactly in the same locations as they were with my eyes open. The room itself was much bigger. It was a clearing surrounded by dense, dark green, foliage. The greenery was so dense that I couldn’t see anything outside of the clearing.
In the foreground, kind of superimposed between me and the rest of the scene, was a small stream. A beaver (I think) was standing on it’s hind legs on a large rock on the far side of the stream, watching me, and otters played in the water. This bit seemed like something from somewhere else that was imposing itself on my mind’s eye, for some reason. The “beaver” first appeared in a meditation the day before, so I’m thinking it’s some kind of spirit guide. I suppose I’ll learn more about that later.
What was most unusual about this was it’s persistence. Lately I’m been having a real hard time focusing on anything in my meditations. My mind just jumps continuously from one image and idea to another. The forest image was rock solid the entire time, allowing me ample time to study the details. Another interesting thing about the image is that it’s not something I have ever seen before, in any of my imaginings. The only thing that resembles it, that I can think of, are certain romantic paintings of the late 1800’s.
The second session took us on a shamanic journey, accompanied by drumming. The leader asked us to go to a beach. I picked a beach I went to in my twenties when I was camping with friends. I don’t know exactly were it is, but it was probably somewhere south of Santa Cruz, California. I pictured the place at night, the time of the session, and I remembered the sea grass in the moonlight and felt a strong, cold wind off the water. We were asked to go into the water. This didn’t really work for me, as I know just how cold the water is out here, and the last thing I want to do in this weather is go into the water.
Never the less, I did go into the water. But I really couldn’t get into it because I know how really cold it is, and I just can’t see myself floating and relaxing in water that cold. At any rate, soon we had to come out. When I was walking out of the water, I saw the water going through my flesh, but not my bones. It was like I was a skeleton surrounded by a ghostly body.
When I got to the dry land, the beaver was there. Yes, I was thinking how odd it was for a beaver to be on a California beach. Then I observed to myself that it seemed awfully tiny, and immediately it grew to a huge size, standing on it’s hind legs. It was at least fifteen feet high and looking down on me. “Better?” it said. “Ok, fine! I get it!” I said, and it was once again a normal size. At that point the leader brought us back.
I am really looking foreword to my classes there. The place has an amazing energy and I expect to learn a lot.
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