House Kheperu


The Hall with Many Doors

Written by: Michelle Belanger

When I first started doing past life regressions and guided imageries, I seized upon the image of a hallway with many doors. The hallway is in a structure that represents the Self, and each door opens onto a different life. Of all the different guided imageries I've experimented with over the years, this has been consistently the most successful. The image of the hallway is so archetypal that you will find similar visualizations used in a number of different systems.

The Visualization
First, I want you to concentrate on your breathing. Lie back and get comfortable, and take a few minutes to just breathe. Take deep, cleanings breaths, and feel the air move through your body, in and out, rise and fall. As you focus on your breathing, you become aware of your heart as well. Your heart and lungs are moving together, in rhythm with one another, and all you can feel is your body. You can feel everything as moves inside you, the breath and the blood, in and out, rise and fall.

As you concentrate on your breathing, you begin to feel a tingling moving throughout your body. It travels with the breath and the blood, and you can feel it growing brighter and warmer. As you breath slowly, deeply, you begin to feel lighter. Each time you exhale, something else lets go. All the distractions and tensions, all the stress from your day, you breathe these out. You let it all go. And as you breathe in, you feel more relaxed. The tingling deepens, and you grow lighter, more comfortable, more content.

You feel yourself floating, as if on the ocean. The waves move around you, rise and fall, the breath and the blood move within you, rise and fall, rise and fall, and any distractions just seep away, it all washes away. Rise and fall, you let go, you let go, feeling the breath and the blood, rocked in the rhythm, rise and fall. Rise and fall ...

Now you are deeply relaxed. Your body is distant, and everything is suffused with a warm, golden glow.

You find yourself standing in a wooded area. It is very peaceful and very familiar to you. You can hear the wind sighing through the branches of the trees and you can feel the breeze flowing over your skin, gently stirring your hair. The sounds of the forest are all around you, and the pungent scent of earth and old leaves greets you every time you breathe.

It is neither warm nor cold, but a comfortable temperature in between. Above you, the sun is out, but there is such a dense canopy of leaves that it is almost twilight where you stand. Shafts of golden light break through the canopy here and there, but for the most part the light around you is a cool, shadowy green.

You realize that there is a path stretched out before you. It leads you further into the trees. The path is not wide, but it is clear. There are some bumps and bends, but for the most part it is easy to walk.

You have a strong feeling that there is something you need to see, and this path will lead you there. With a mingled sense of longing and curiosity, you take the first step, following along this small path beneath the trees.

The path disappears around a bend beside a particularly large tree. You follow. Around you, the forest grows darker and more dense, but there is nothing threatening about this. Instead, there is an even deeper calm around you, and the sighing of the wind overhead reminds you of the soothing sound of ocean waves.

Eventually, the path leads you to a clearing. Within this clearing stands a temple. The air around you is hushed and still, and you realize that this is a secret, sacred place. It is intensely familiar, and you know somehow that this temple is a part of you.

You take a few moments to gaze at this grand structure, studying every column and ornate line. Then reverently you approach it. The path leads directly to the foot of the great door. Several steps lead up to this door, and you pause for a moment at the bottom, once more studying what stands before you. Everything speaks deeply to you; the sense of familiarity is like a bittersweet ache in your heart.

Knowing that this place holds your deepest secrets, you mount the steps, one by one. The huge, silvered door stands before you, reflecting the rays of the sun. As you draw closer to this, you realize that the door is not metal, precisely. It is a mirror.

You stand before this mirror-door, gazing at yourself. Beyond your reflection, swirling mists obscure the rest of the mirror. As you watch, these mists rise up, making your reflection dim and indistinct. When the mists clear, your reflection has changed, yet you know it is still you. The eyes are different, as is the hair. Even the clothes and shape of your face have changed. You get the overwhelming feeling that you have worn this form before, and that the mirror remembers.

As you study this strange yet familiar reflection, the mists swirl again and a new form emerges. This also is just a different you. You reach out to touch the silvered surface of the mirror and your fingers press lightly into the surface. It feels like thick water, strange and cool. You realize that there is no handle to this door: you must pass through.

Again the mists swirl and reform themselves, and a new face and body stand before you. Knowing that many secrets lie beyond, you steel yourself to pass through the mirror-door. You take a breath, then step through. There is a moment of absolute silence and you feel suspended everywhere and nowhere at once. Then there is a pressure, very slight, as if you are pushing through a membrane. Finally there is light, and you are through.

You stand in the entryway of the temple. Everything in here is intimately familiar to you. The ceiling overhead stretches up and up until the top is lost in shadow. A light hangs down from the heights. It has a dim, faint glow, but it illuminates enough of your surroundings so you can see beyond the entryway.

Around you, you see hallway after hallway. They seem to come from every angle, and they stretch down as far as you can see. Each and every hallway is lined with doors. The doors are all different. Some are wood, some are steel, some a bricked up and some stand slightly ajar. Each is decorated differently, and you know, deep within yourself, that each leads to a different part of you. Past and present, memories cherished and memories forgotten, all can be found here.

You pause a few moments to drink this all in. Then you begin to explore the hallways. There is a door, somewhere in all this vastness, that you want to walk through. As you pace up and down the hallways, you search for this. You take some time to study the various doors, until you find one that stands out to you.

You stand before the door, studying it in detail. There are things it reminds you of, in its shape, in its color, in the very feel it inspires in you.

After a moment, you reach down and turn the handle, knowing it will open easily for you. Beyond the door you see shadows and swirling grey mist. There is a faint luminescence, but you cannot make anything out. Something in that darkness is achingly familiar to you -- a scent, a feeling, soft strains of music -- and you realize that you must walk through. Taking a moment to prepare yourself for whatever may come, you step across the threshold. Once you are through the door, the darkness begins to lift and the mists begin to clear. A scene unfolds around you. You look down at yourself, and your body has changed. Your clothes are different. Everything is different, but it is also very, very familiar.

You hear people nearby. Someone calls your name. You look up and move into the memory, move into this life you lead before.

Take some time to explore this place. Let yourself go and experience what waits for you beyond the door. Pay attention to everything and know that you will remember what transpires here. Also remember that, if at any time you become frightened or uncomfortable, all you have to do is turn and exit through the door. Nothing here can hurt you. Everything is a memory of the past. Allow yourself to remember, and hold those memories to you when it is time to leave.