There are journals that exist merely to publish information, and then there are journals that quietly preserve the spirit of an entire movement. The Journal of Regression Therapy belongs to the second category.
In 1985 the Association of Past-Life Research and Therapy (APRT) was founded and it was in Spring of 1986, forty years ago, that a small team of crazy guys and gals, in Riverside California started this feverish endeavour, the Journal of Regression Therapy. Even though I was not there at the time – only Hans and Trisha can really tell us what happened then – I can only tell you the feeling by inference and not direct experience. I can do so because I have read all the books that were written by the first contributors of this original movement and I still find them thrilling. Most of these pioneers are now dead, but fresh ideas are coming in and that is encouraging.
Long before regression therapy became widely discussed on the internet, before social media groups, online trainings, and endless debates about consciousness and trauma, there were a handful of therapists, researchers, explorers, and deeply curious human beings trying to understand the mysteries of memory, healing, trauma, and the human soul. The Journal became one of the few places where these voices could meet.
Behind its articles were therapists sitting for hours with clients carrying grief, fear, unexplained symptoms, recurring dreams and nightmares, strange memories, or emotional pain that conventional approaches sometimes struggled to explain fully.
The Journal of Regression Therapy slowly became a kind of meeting place for those willing to explore the deeper layers of human experience — carefully, respectfully, and often courageously.
Some articles focused on trauma and dissociation. Others explored birth memories, childhood experiences, symbolic imagery, spirit attachment, transpersonal psychology, or past-life experiences. At times the material was controversial. At times deeply moving. At times highly speculative. But beneath all of it there was a common thread: A sincere attempt to understand suffering and healing.
One of the most beautiful aspects of the Journal was its international and deeply human character. Contributors came from different countries, traditions, and schools of thought. Some approached regression therapy psychologically. Others spiritually. Others philosophically. And yet many shared the same experience: Again and again, clients appeared to improve when unresolved emotional material was finally accessed, expressed, understood, and integrated.
The Journal also documented the gradual evolution of regression therapy itself. Early practitioners often worked intuitively, exploring unknown territory with limited maps. Over time, concepts became more refined:
- trauma release,
- inner child work,
- dissociation,
- energy awareness,
- symbolic processing,
- and transpersonal healing,
- spirit attachment dynamics,
all slowly found their place within the broader regression framework.
Reading older issues today feels almost archaeological. One can sense the atmosphere of another era — when therapists exchanged typed manuscripts, organised small conferences, debated ideas passionately, and built professional communities not through algorithms but through genuine human connection.
There is also something touching about the honesty found in many of the articles. The Journal was never perfect, polished, or entirely academically safe. Some articles were brilliant. Some speculative. Some deeply personal. But many authors wrote with authenticity rather than institutional distance. That authenticity gave the Journal its soul.
For many therapists, the Journal represented more than professional reading. It became a companion. A source of inspiration. A reminder that others, too, were exploring the borderlands between psychology, trauma, memory, spirituality, and consciousness.
In many ways, the history of the Journal mirrors the history of regression therapy itself:
a field existing somewhere between science and mystery. Critics often challenged it. Supporters defended it passionately. Researchers attempted to study it. Clients continued seeking it. And through all these decades, the Journal quietly continued documenting the journey.
The problem was that its contents were a forbidden secret and when the JRT belonged to IARRT you could not have access to the Journal issues unless you paid a significant amount of money. That kept the doors closed, to many of the novice therapists that wanted to learn these. Now thanks to the efforts of Richard Stammler to sustain its existence and the massive help of EARTh, it survived its demise and is looking forward into the future, while at the same time the whole planet has free access to the all of this wealth.
Today, whether one fully agrees with all aspects of regression therapy or not, the historical importance of the Journal of Regression Therapy is difficult to deny. It preserved clinical observations, personal experiences, theoretical reflections, and therapeutic experiments that might otherwise have disappeared.
Most importantly, it preserved a spirit of inquiry.
Not the rigid certainty of dogma. But the open curiosity of people genuinely asking:
- Why do human beings suffer?
- How is trauma carried?
- Can memory exist beyond ordinary recall?
- Why do some people heal only when deeper layers of the psyche are reached?
- And what exactly are we touching when therapy reaches the deepest levels of human experience?
Perhaps the Journal never offered final answers. But maybe that was never its real purpose.
Its real contribution may have been something far more human: creating a space where therapists and seekers could continue asking the questions together.
Nassos Komianos
Editor in Chief
International Journal of Regression Therapy
P.S. Please send us a case study, an essay, an article, or a scientific paper. We will be happy to help. What will happen to your experiences in therapy if you keep them in your desk’s drawers? Publish with us.
