Photographed by Li Guo
In past life regression, soul stories are used not to sate curiosity, but heal wounds.
My soul story starts with murder. But more on that later. I was inside a house, at a quiet corner of Binangonan, Rizal, on an uphill and sparsely populated lot that overlooks Metro Manila. The space I was in was called Tin’s Bungalow, named after my host today, Tin Jacinto. Right after she introduced herself, she quickly pulled me into a warm hug (“I’m a big hugger,” she says brightly), led me into her office and encouraged me to relax into one of the chairs across from her. I was there to undergo a session of past life regression, a modality that I have always been curious about.
When I first heard about it, I pictured lying on a couch in a hypnotic state, where I would recall my past selves, who I was through the Renaissance, the dark ages, world wars, and other various points in history. Jacinto’s method of choice is nothing of the sort. While past life regression can be done with visualization and trance work, Tin does it by reading her client’s Akashic records.
“The Akashic Records are like a spiritual archive, a vibrational field that holds the imprint of every soul’s journey across time and lifetimes. Think of it as an energetic memory bank of your choices, consequences, relationships, and soul patterns,” she explains. “When I ‘open’ the records for a client, I tune into that archive through intention. What comes through is often symbolic or story-like, but deeply resonant. We explore the root of certain struggles, beliefs, and cycles. And through awareness and clearing, we bring resolution to what’s still looping in the background.”
“The soul adjusts in spirals, not straight lines.”
Before going through the session, I was asked if I had any experience with similar practices. And, of course through motivations both professional and personal, I’ve gone through my fair share of energy work and the healing arts: inner dance, reiki, meditation, and, more recently, ancestral clearing, which has similar principles to what I was about to go through. Knowing this helps Tin structure the session, and tells her how deep she can go. “If someone’s system isn’t familiar with deep energetic work, I make sure the session builds gradually, with more grounding woven in,” she adds.
I was also asked to verbalize my intention, which she likens to placing a key in a lock. “It signals your readiness and focuses the field. When the intention is clear, we access the records with precision.” Tin says that coming with clear intentions and with an open heart is the ideal way to prepare for a session.
She advises against coming to a session wanting to just collect trivia about yourself. “The soul speaks in layers, and if we come in resistant, distracted, or just curious for the sake of curiosity, the information often won’t land or resonate.” I tried to set aside journalistic curiosity and approached it with as much openness as I could.
In my aforementioned ancestral clearing session a few months back, things got extremely emotional quickly. Past life regression was similarly affecting. I was reduced to a sobbing mess with a few choice words. Tin says that this was quite common. “Tears, goosebumps, tingling, even physical releases like heat or a sense of lightness,” she explains. “Sometimes people laugh or feel strangely ‘remembered’ by the story. Other times, they just feel deeply quiet, like something old finally settled.”
We settled into a lot of back-and-forth, which became the rhythm of our time together. She would give insights through the stories she shared about me, and I would wonder out loud about the hows and whys. “I work conversationally. Your voice, reactions, and insights help shape the field. This isn’t passive; you’re a co-navigator. The dialogue makes it dynamic and alive.”
Healing space
Tin has been in the healing arts for over a decade, having studied formally under teachers in the Philippines, Australia, Indonesia, and the U.S. Her background includes training in Shamanic healing, soul realignment, spiritual dowsing, and Akashic records reading, different practices and modalities that mediate and move, and are attuned to both the physical and the spiritual.
But, she emphasizes, hers began as a personal path long before it became a profession. “Beyond certifications, it’s really the soul’s curriculum that trains you,” Jacinto explains. “I experienced my own spontaneous past life recall during a deep healing crisis. That moment changed everything. I realized that healing doesn’t only happen in the now; it also happens in the timelines we still carry within us.”
She has clients from all over the world, from Dubai to Europe to provinces in the Philippines, and has done sessions with them through video calls. “Both online and in person are equally powerful and enjoyable for me.” Though she does love having people come over to her bungalow, which she says she built as a healing space, “dedicated to the full spectrum of life: the dark and the light, the sacred and the everyday, the seen and unseen.
“For me, true healing doesn’t deny polarity; it integrates it. This land has witnessed both personal grief and quiet breakthroughs. It holds the energy of beginnings and endings. I believe that for transformation to be real, it must be grounded in a place that welcomes all parts of us.
That’s what this space in Binangonan Rizal offers: Encompassing Presence.”
Tin says that she actually doesn’t offer past life clearing as a stand-alone service. “It’s not something I’d recommend doing repeatedly just for exploration as well,” she expounds. It should instead come up organically as part of a deeper healing session, and only when it’s necessary and beneficial. “If a pattern has roots in another lifetime and the soul is ready to witness and release it, that’s when we go there. It’s always guided by what the person’s energy is asking for and what would be optimal for healing,” she continues.
“Each session is sacred. What stays with me is the courage people bring into these journeys.”
Echoes from the past
After verbalizing my intention, something along the lines of understanding why none of my romantic prospects have ever worked out so far, Tin presented me with two of my soul stories in response.
“Soul stories are the energetic memories or symbolic scenes that show up when I tune into your Records,” Tin says. These are not “facts,” she clarifies, but emotional truths: past lives, archetypes, ancestral echoes. “They reflect how your soul has traveled, what it’s learned, and what it’s healing now.”
These echoes can even manifest in the body. She shares a time when one woman came in with chronic nosebleeds that seemed to have no medical explanation. “In the session, we uncovered a past life where she had a disease marked by the same symptom. The trauma wasn’t just physical; it was emotional, rooted in fear and helplessness. In this life, stress was triggering the same imprint.” Tin says that after the clearing, the nosebleeds gradually stopped.
Curiously, the first soul story shared to me wasn’t about romance, but family, involving manipulation, betrayal, and, ultimately, murder. I ended up killing my own brother in that past life. Both of our souls ended up in the same family in this life, Tin explains, and my past transgression became a source of a lot of unexplained anger and resentment. He passed away just a few years back due to heart failure, and the complications we had in our relationship were unfortunately left painfully unresolved.
This soul story and the other deeply personal things it unraveled were expectedly intense. “You’re touching raw material from other lifetimes: grief, betrayal, powerlessness, even ancient guilt. So emotional waves can arise, but in a safe and guided space, these become invitations for release, not something to fear,” Tin says.
She mentions that it can take about six weeks after the session for release to take full effect, though the timeline varies. “Some as short as three weeks, some much longer up to nine months. The soul adjusts in spirals, not straight lines. Integration takes time because the clearing happens on an energetic level first, then the body, the emotions, and your life circumstances start catching up. Think of it as roots realigning underground before you see new growth above,” Tin says. “Be gentle with yourself. Rest. Journal. Observe the subtle shifts. Drink lots of water. And trust that the release is already working even if the changes take time to appear.”
The second soul story that Tin shared with me was a lot lighter, involving the greatest love of my life (or, more accurately, lives), a European duke, and a promise to stay together from here to eternity. This is why my relationships never seem to work out, she explains. I already belonged to another soul.
It honestly feels a bit cinematic. Arguably, too much, and it might be a big ask for a lot of people to just leave all doubt behind and go with a story pulled from another realm. But in my experience, it’s hard to progress in practices such as these without suspending everyday belief.
At the end of the day, Jacinto says that it’s not just about knowing who you were in a past life. “The work is sacred. It brings you back into dialogue with your own soul. And in a world that constantly pulls you outward, that is one of the most radical and transformational things you can experience,” she elaborates. “It’s not about fantasy or escapism. It’s about recognizing how your soul has been shaped and reclaiming the choices you now get to make. It’s about becoming more you.”
By JACS T. SAMPAYAN. In this story: Photograph by LI GUO.