Roger Woolger, my teacher of "Regression Therapy," had accepted an invitation to conduct a past lives session for the TV cameras, to be aired on a program devoted to unusual events verging on the supernatural. So we were demonstrating for the cameraa how the regression process worked - and I have not thought of this life as sufficiently eventful to warrant much attention.

Roger Woolger, our Past Lives therapist, was invited to give a presentation on television, and asked several of his clients if they would be willing to work before the cameras. We agreed, so assembled in a studio, and began working in pairs as a crew did the filming.

In the one scene I got back, my husband and I are poor woodcutters. I am middle-aged, sort of dumpy, a very poor German hausfrau. I am working outside our little thatched hut in the woods and my husband walks toward me bent over a high-piled burden of hewn logs which he has cut deep in the woods.

What I remember mainly is a feeling of dullness, of limitation, a kind of spiritual near-sightedness. There really wasn't time to develop this lifetime beyond the one scene.

The program never aired, by the way. I guess someone in charge of planning decided it was too controversial - but I've forgotten what actually happened. This life is not very well delineated for me. I came up with it, as it were, on demand.