TIME TRAVEL RETURNS!
Mind Probe – Hypnosis – Irene Hickman
I hadn’t come across Irene Hickman’s name before, but she’s well regarded by (mostly US-based) proponents of hypnotic ‘past-life regression’.
Hickman originally trained as a doctor of osteopathy and quickly introduced hypnosis as an adjunct to her medical practise in the late 1940s. She segued to hypnotherapy after the psychological benefits of her patient treatments appeared more effective than the physical; whether in whole or in part, and how soon and clearly she distinguished between her roles as osteopath and “hypnotechnician” (her term) is a mystery. But, in this 1991-published first book – Mind Probe – Hypnosis – she states that she’s been using hypnosis for more than 30 years, and her breezy confidence rings true in her writing.
The last time I wrote about ‘past-life regression’, I was lamenting finishing all of Helen Wambach’s books. I’m pleased to say that Hickman has usurped Wambach as my new favourite time-travelling lady-hypnotist-adventurer! Whereas Wambach was caught up with gathering (ultimately useless) statistics to ‘prove’ that past-life, future-life, and pre-natal ‘hypnotic regression’ was real, Hickman is unapologetic in her pioneer approach.
And when I write ‘pioneer’, I really can picture Hickman, 30 years younger than her below photo, as a lone cowgirl blazing a trail across the great, if barren, 1940s US hypnosis plains. Her journey from osteopath to hypnotechnician gets barely two pages before her dabblings with hypnoanalysis and ‘regressing’ people to earlier stages of adulthood and childhood spirals into patients spontaneously offering up past-life recollections. What is fascinating about Hickman’s view of ‘hypnosis’ is that this, to her, is Hypnosis. So, while she cites a couple of basic books – including this work by Harry Arons – her anecdotal experience feels isolated from other influences, making her something of a curio…
The book features whole patient case studies, as well as a jumble of theory, history, musings, summaries, and transcripts. Hickman regularly claims to be agnostic about the existence of past lives – she’s just focused on ‘patient results’, whether it’s fact or fantasy; the standard position of a magical-thinking, let alone non-scientific, approach. But she admits to a strong prior belief in (multiple) past lives, as well as in reincarnation and karma, plus includes a chapter on reincarnation being supported by Christianity and the Bible. She’s convinced she doesn’t influence her patients, and doesn’t ask ‘leading questions’. But her bias is glaring!
Hickman’s interest in hypnotic past-life regression was further piqued by the ‘Bridey Murphy’ sensation. She reflects on how Morey Bernstein’s book – about the 1800s Ireland ‘past life’ of a 1950s Colorado housewife, extracted via hypnosis – legitimised, at least to her satisfaction, the American Medical Association recognising hypnotism as a valid medical treatment in 1958. She comes across as earnest and curious in sharing her patients’ past lives, rather than cashing in on a craze. But it’s notable that hazy ‘memories’ of bleak hovels of the ye olde Ireland/Britain variety seem to bring forth several past-lives.
Hickman’s method sees patients build complex past life stories linked to their presenting problem. For instance, one woman’s migraines are banished by uncovering a past life as a Roman athlete called Antonius, the protege and protector of Julius Caesar. ‘Antonius’ (aka Hickman’s patient, ‘Anne’) still blames himself for Caesar’s untimely death, so is encouraged to journey back further into the past to find the cause of these pesky headaches. Some sort of ancient goddess-slave-sex-magick-murder-ritual recollection finally frees Anne from her migraines. Though six years – SIX YEARS! – of treatment seems rather disproportionate!
My perverse pleasure in vintage hypnotic transcripts – of, for instance, 1100s Scottish family sagas and the tragedy of a Turkish slave girl, or simply the chatterings of adults acting as if they’re small children – was tarnished by Hickman’s insistence on linking past-life characters to patients’ current familial circle. This means that, say, a child abandoned by a patient’s 1800s suicide might now be their difficult mother or clingy husband. Even when ‘past-life regression’ is positioned as agnostic or imaginative, it is these frames that furnish people with unnecessary – and possibly harmful – personal narratives.
Perhaps this is why Hickman’s anecdotal experience sees people in limbo between death and life protest so violently against being reborn. Most people, she writes, “seemed to be relieved” by death. “Birth was an entirely different matter. Only a few found birth to be something they eagerly looked forward to. The more common reaction was regret, reluctance or even refusal.” I’m not surprised, based on her claustrophobic pitch for us being bound to such a small pool of familial souls – it sounds much like being trapped as a recurring character in a dreary British soap-opera for all eternity.
But, as a hypno-curio, Hickman’s belief in souls creates a unique spin on the concept of multiple personalities and spiritual ‘possession’. A couple of cases blur the lines between ‘past lives’ and possible ‘souls’ (characters) that people are playing in the present tense, which could have been ascribed to then-popular split personality… or something spookier. Rather than seeing such alter egos as a by-product of an individual’s psychology, Hickman has a looser view – like, it’s sort of incidental that you might have a few different souls knocking about inside of you… In researching her internet footprint, I found that her second and final book – Remote Depossession, published in 1997 – concerns her ‘spiritual release process’, and is… the opposite of an exorcism?! I immediately snapped it up, of course!
Her unorthodox methods and views make for fun – if irresponsible – vintage reading. She advocates for “gas therapy” (30% carbon dioxide and 70% oxygen to starve the brain of oxygen) to chug hypnosis along. She makes unsubstantiated health claims. And she’s a credulous fan of that famed American clairvoyant of health/medical matters, Edgar Cayce. But I came to rather respect the speed with which Hickman adventures across the hypno-plains. She reminds me of Estabrooks in some ways; she’s revolutionising the world’s legal system with plans for hypnotic witness reenactments of crimes, or proposing how to scientifically test hypnotic clairvoyance between two subjects (because she can’t be bothered to prove such trifling details herself).
Academia aside, I get the impression she considered herself an equal to contemporary popular male hypnotists – quite rightfully, given the questionable beliefs, credentials, and ethics of the time. She’s forthright – ‘alpha’: she dislikes entertainment hypnosis, but is grateful to it for keeping interest in hypnosis alive; she doesn’t have the temperament for scientific research, but values and welcomes it. Ultimately, she’s left me excited to see where her soul adventures take us next – even if I don’t believe a word of it!
