Regressology as a Path to the Exploration of Consciousness and the Out-of-Body Experience
By Andrey Shcherbakov
PART I
Consciousness is not merely the human capacity to be aware of what is happening. It is the very field within which everything that we call “reality” arises. Everything we see, feel, and think—everything that appears to be “outside”—actually exists within this unified field of awareness. If that is so, then the path to understanding the world is, inevitably, the path to understanding consciousness itself.
For many years, I have studied phenomena connected to altered states of perception, including the out-of-body experience. These explorations have convinced me of one essential truth: consciousness is not localized in the brain and is not confined by the boundaries of the physical body. It can shift focus, alter levels of perception, expand and contract, and enter into contact with other layers of being.
Regressology is one of the directions where this truth begins to unfold in practice.
What Regression Really Is
When a person enters a state of deep relaxation and their attention withdraws from the outer stream of thoughts, they begin to perceive subtler layers of their own experience. This is not imagination or fantasy, as skeptics might assume. It is a natural ability of consciousness to remember—to reestablish contact with informational structures that have always existed within it.
In this sense, regression is not a literal “journey into past lives.” It is a process of restoring access to the layers of memory that were forgotten, suppressed, or buried but never truly lost.
These layers may appear as vivid scenes from childhood, as sensations from the time in the womb, as emotional imprints inherited from ancestors, or even as fragments that do not belong to the present biography—as if they were memories of another life.
From a scientific perspective, this can be viewed as a deep immersion into the subconscious memory, where all information exists outside of time. But if we look from a broader perspective—from the view of the out-of-body experience—we encounter the multilayered nature of consciousness itself. Consciousness remembers not only the personal but also the collective; not only the current embodiment but the entire stream of being of which it is a part.
Consciousness as the Keeper of All Memory
In regression, a person does not “recall” in the usual sense—they restore access to informational levels. Every emotion, thought, or event—whether recognized or not—leaves an imprint in the energetic structure of consciousness. These imprints exist independently of whether we consciously remember them or not.
I have observed how, during regression, a person suddenly becomes aware of the root of a lifelong fear—one that had no rational explanation. In one of those deeper memories, they might relive a moment of death, loss, or shock. The instant that experience becomes conscious, the fear dissolves. The consciousness releases the energy frozen in the past.
This shows that regression is not simply recollection—it is an act of liberating attention. Everything we fail to bring into awareness remains in us as a knot of tension. When attention returns to this knot and integrates it into the field of consciousness, the structure dissolves. In this lies the true meaning of healing that regression can bring.
Between Memory and Imagination
One of the most delicate aspects of understanding regression lies in the border between memory and imagination.
People often ask, “How can I know if what I’m seeing is real or just fantasy?”
The answer lies in the quality of the experience.
When a person truly connects with deep memory, it is not just a mental image or a story—it is a resonance. A physical and emotional recognition arises; the body reacts, emotions awaken, and consciousness “remembers itself” through what is happening.
Imagination lacks that density; it is superficial, schematic, and emotionally neutral.
Even if some parts of the experience are formed through symbols or metaphors, that doesn’t make it false. The subconscious speaks in symbols. It does not need to display literal history; it conveys meaning, cause, and interconnection.
For me, regression is not about historical accuracy—it is a journey of inner recognition.
Time as the Illusion of Memory
One of the most remarkable aspects of regression is how it dismantles the linear perception of time.
In our ordinary awareness, we believe that the past is behind us and the future is ahead. But when a person enters the state of regression, that separation disappears.
Everything is experienced here and now, within a single field of consciousness.
I have often witnessed a person simultaneously experiencing themselves as an adult, a child, and even as someone entirely different—from another era, another culture. Consciousness does not “travel through time”; it simply shifts the focus of perception between layers of one and the same reality.
In this sense, “past lives” are not a sequence of incarnations but parallel streams of experience existing within a unified field.
Regression does not help us “remember the past”—it helps us see that the past has never vanished. It still vibrates within the depths of consciousness, influencing us through unconscious patterns. When we return attention to that layer, we not only recognize ourselves—we transform the structure of the present.
The Art of Returning Attention
In its essence, regression is the art of returning attention.
We live outwardly, constantly reacting, planning, striving. Everything we fail to realize sinks into shadow.
When a person goes through regression, they step into that shadow—not to escape life, but to reclaim lost wholeness.
In the moments of deepest immersion, an extraordinary stillness arises. Consciousness begins to remember that it has always been here—the witness that observes all forms yet belongs to none.
This recognition makes regression not merely a therapeutic process but a profoundly spiritual practice.
Regressology as a Path to the Exploration of Consciousness and the Out-of-Body Experience
By Andrey Shcherbakov
PART II
When I first began exploring the state of consciousness beyond the body, I realized a simple yet fundamental truth: the human being is not confined to their physical presence. Perception can extend beyond the body, beyond time and space—while retaining clarity, awareness, and the sense of “I am.”
Regression became a natural continuation of that discovery. It is, in essence, aimed at the same thing: freeing consciousness from the narrow framework of personality and restoring its connection to the wider fabric of being, which ordinarily remains unseen.
The Connection Between Regression and the Out-of-Body State
The mechanism underlying both phenomena is similar. In regression and in the out-of-body experience, a person shifts attention away from the external sensory world toward the inner field. This is not an “escape” from the body—it is a return to the source of perception itself.
When attention detaches from the senses, from thoughts and associations, what remains is pure consciousness. In this state, information can be perceived directly—not through the senses, but through resonance, through direct knowing. This is what allows one to remember past incarnations, encounter other forms of existence, and communicate with consciousnesses that have no physical form.
Many people find this unsettling because it shatters the familiar logic of reality. Yet it is not destruction—it is expansion. Both regression and the out-of-body state reveal the same truth: consciousness is one. The body is only an instrument—a temporary focal point of awareness within an infinite field of perception.
The Space Between Lives and the Memory of the Soul
In deep regression, people often move beyond individual incarnations into what may be called the space between lives—a realm where personality dissolves, yet awareness remains.
These states are beyond ordinary description. They are filled with silence, clarity, and an overwhelming sense of presence and knowing.
I have often heard people say after such sessions, “I feel like I have always been here.” It is not a metaphor—it is the literal recognition of eternity. In that moment, one realizes that their true nature was never born and will never die. That which appears and disappears is merely form.
Regression into this inter-life state often becomes a turning point. After such an experience, one can no longer perceive life in the same way. There is a deep understanding that death is not an end, but a change in the mode of perception—and that the purpose of existence lies not in survival, but in awareness.
The Structure of Consciousness and the Illusion of “I”
When a person begins to recall multiple incarnations, a question naturally arises: Who am I, then?
If in one life I am a man, in another a woman, in one rich, in another poor, in one a warrior, in another a scholar—who is the observer seeing all these roles?
Regression gradually reveals that the personality is merely a fragment of a greater structure of consciousness—a local form of expression. Behind all these roles stands something unchanging: the pure awareness that has no name or shape.
This awareness is what different traditions call spirit, Atman, the Source, or simply the I Am.
Regression brings one closer to this realization—not through theory, but through direct experience. At a certain point, a person ceases to identify with body, history, or name, and recognizes themselves as the presence that existed before all incarnations and will remain beyond them.
The Perception of Time and the Multiplicity of Experience
In some regressions I’ve witnessed, a person becomes aware of several incarnations at once.
This shatters the linear concept of reincarnation. All “lives” are not sequential but simultaneous—occurring in different layers of space-time.
Consciousness experiences countless fragments of itself—in different worlds, epochs, and bodies—but all of them are aspects of a single field. When we “remember the past,” we are actually connecting to another branch of the same tree.
Regression allows one to feel this multiplicity without fragmentation, sensing oneself as the root from which all branches grow.
Memory as a Living Field of Consciousness
Memory is not an archive of events. It is a living field of vibration, accessible to anyone capable of tuning their attention.
We do not store memories in the brain—the brain merely receives and translates signals. The real storage lies within the subtle layers of consciousness.
When, in regression, a person “remembers” a moment from another life, they are not opening a file in memory—they are entering the frequency of that state. They become the one they once were, because everything that ever was, is, and will be, exists here and now within the potential of consciousness.
This may sound paradoxical, yet it holds the key to understanding time. We do not move through time—attention moves through levels of perception.
When attention expands far enough, the boundaries of time dissolve, and one experiences true freedom for the first time.
Healing as Awakening
True healing is not the removal of pain—it is the realization of who is suffering.
When, in regression, a person relives a painful moment from another life and suddenly realizes they are not only the one who suffered, but also the timeless awareness witnessing it—liberation occurs.
In that sense, regression is not just therapy but a spiritual practice of awakening.
It draws attention back to the source from which personality, body, and life itself emerge.
And the deeper one realizes that they are not the story but the awareness behind it, the less power fear, guilt, and pain hold over them.
Why It Matters Today
Modern life is loud—overwhelmed by information, emotion, and constant stimulation.
We have nearly forgotten how to listen inwardly, how to sense the stillness beneath the noise.
In this context, regression is not an exotic method—it is a way to recover the ability to hear again.
It reminds us that the meaning of human life is not to accumulate experiences, but to become aware of them.
That every joy, loss, and challenge is a reflection of a single process—the awakening of consciousness to itself.
Personal Reflection
I often think that human life resembles a dream. We believe we live in a body, move through time, struggle, love, lose, and die.
But eventually, a moment comes when the dream begins to awaken within itself. We start to see that the body is an instrument of perception, and that memory is not merely a shadow of the past—it is a doorway into infinity.
Regressology is one of the paths to that awakening. It allows us to look beyond the boundaries of personal biography and to discover within ourselves something that has no beginning and no end.
Each person can remember far more than they imagine. But what truly matters is not what they remember, but who within them is doing the remembering.
Instead of a Conclusion
When I wrote The Phenomenon of Consciousness Beyond the Body, I sought to convey this very feeling—the sense that life is not confined to form, that consciousness is greater than the body, and that memory is not the past but the threshold of eternity.
Regression is another such threshold.
And when a person steps through it with sincerity, without fear or expectation, they inevitably discover that everything they were searching for has always been within them.