Starseeds, Past Lives and Galactic Contact: One Channel's Story

On the second night of a ten-day silent meditation retreat, Elizabeth April says, she stopped being a skeptic. The woman who, by her own account, would once have laughed at the idea of aliens visiting "this like lowly third dimension planet" was, in her telling, fully and consciously taken by interdimensional beings. That moment sits at the center of a 70-minute conversation she had with host Sahara Rose on the Highest Self Podcast in June 2021. It is also the hinge of a larger story about a sensitive child, a teenager's past life regression, a university party trick that turned into a method, and a belief that people who feel they don't belong on Earth may be starseeds: souls who came from a star system far away and are longing for a home that is not on this planet. What follows explains the ideas that carry her account, from the practice of self-induced trance to her claim that time is simultaneous, and why the episode works best read as one channel's testimony rather than settled fact.

How did a sensitive child end up feeling like an outsider?

The story starts with a body that absorbed everything around it. April told Rose she was born with extrasensory abilities and that she could tap into other energies and frequencies. "I think a lot of kids really truly are," she said. She was so empathic that she could not comfortably go to a public restaurant, taking on the emotional weather of everyone in the room, and she describes needing to purge after being around crowds. She also says she saw ghosts and spirits. Her father was open about it. Her mother was more unsettled.

At school she was, in her own phrase, "the weird kid." She felt she didn't belong and didn't know why. This is the first place the starseed idea appears in her account, and it's worth noticing how it works. A child who feels out of step with her classmates can read that discomfort as evidence of a different origin. April says she believes many starseeds feel this way, "especially in childhood." The framework takes a common experience of alienation and gives it a cosmic address.

At around ten, she says, she "shut off very consciously" all of those abilities. She played sports and did what she needed to do to fit in. The cost, by her account, was anxiety, depression, and a persistent questioning about who we are and why we are here. At sixteen she was going through the motions and felt that a "normal life wasn't going to cut it." That is the point where her story pivots toward past lives.

What happened in a single past life regression at sixteen?

Around the age of 3:30 in the conversation, April describes the session that changed her direction. Her father, an engineer raised Catholic who had taken a past life regression course at university, offered to regress her. In "about an hour and a half," she says, they moved through five different lifetimes. In each, she was positioned to gain access to information and give it to humanity. She did not know yet what she was accessing, but she came away with two convictions that have organized her work since.

"Reincarnation is real and we are not just who we are in this present moment. We are the sum of all of our past lifetimes." (Elizabeth April, Highest Self Podcast, 2021)

The second conviction is the one that does the most philosophical work. "Time is actually an illusion. It's simultaneous," she told Rose, reasoning from the experience itself: if five lifetimes fit into ninety minutes, then the linear order we assume may not be the whole structure. Whether or not a listener accepts that inference, it explains why the rest of her method is built around compressing time, reaching multiple lives in a single session.

Why did the trance move from the client to the channel?

Here is the detail that makes April's story more than a list of experiences. At university she copied her father's regression techniques into her own notebook and began regressing other students. She describes it candidly: she had no prior training in hypnotherapy, and she calls it "probably really irresponsible of me." She also calls it her "party trick, right? Back in the day." When Rose guessed Dolores Cannon as the source, April corrected her: the techniques were her father's.

The turning point was an efficiency problem. Regression as she practiced it required a long induction, because, as she put it, it "takes so long to get someone separated from their ego mind and separated from this current moment." Her question was whether she could skip that step by putting herself into a trance and reading the other person's records directly. "Is it possible for me... to regress myself into a trance-like state where I can see that person's Akashic records and past lifetimes?" she asked. The answer changed her pace. Work that once took an hour and a half for one lifetime, she says, now let her explore "five or six lifetimes for an individual in 30 minutes."

That shift is where her practice branches. Once she could move her own consciousness at will, she says, she began remote viewing and astral traveling, and her curiosity widened to questions like how the pyramids were built and who Jesus really was. It is worth holding these two stages separately. The first is a technique a teenager was given and a young adult repurposed. The second is a set of claims about perception that the conversation describes but does not test.

What is a starseed, and why does the identity matter to her?

The episode's description frames the conversation for people who feel they come from a star system far away, and April's account gives that feeling a biography. Starseeds, in her usage, are people whose sense of alienation is not a malfunction but a memory. The identity supplies a reason for the childhood she describes: the empathy, the ghosts, the sense of being unplaced. It also supplies a purpose. In every past life she accessed, she says, she had a role in passing information to humanity, and that role continued into the present.

The framework has a practical effect on how she talks about suffering. Her depression and anxiety in her teens are described as the cost of suppressing her abilities, not as a clinical story. That is a reading many people will find meaningful, and a reader should notice that it is also a reading that makes the experiences themselves the answer. The conversation does not spend much time on alternative explanations, and that absence is part of what the piece is about.

What happened on the second night of the retreat?

The retreat was not random. Among the past lives April accessed was one in which she was a yogi in Burma, and one of the practices she used then was Vipassanā, a Buddhist meditation practice. "I got to find a Vipassanā center," she recalled thinking. So she went to a ten-day silent retreat. At that point, she says, she was open and "downloading a lot," but she still would have dismissed the idea of alien life visiting Earth. Then, on the second night, the experience happened.

She calls it a "very fear-based abduction experience." She has been interviewed about it many times, she says, but the description she offered to Rose was not the emotional center of her account. "It's actually not what happened. It's really what happened after." Once she was exposed to the idea that interdimensional life is real, she says, her questions shifted from this physical reality toward other dimensions: who these beings are, why they are here, and "what is their end goal?" From there, she says, she began to channel and to access past lifetimes in which she had been an interdimensional body on spaceships and planets. "I just took my prior knowledge and I applied it to the universe," she said, roughly a decade before the 2021 conversation.

"I'm sure they're out there in the universe, but there's no way they're here on this like lowly third dimension planet." (Elizabeth April, describing her view before the retreat, Highest Self Podcast, 2021)

What is most useful here is the pattern of her reasoning, whatever one makes of the event. The experience did not produce a belief from nothing. It arrived inside a framework she had already built through past lives, trance, and remote viewing, and it expanded that framework into a larger cosmos.

Why does she push back on the aliens of popular culture?

Rose and April spend a stretch of the episode on a shared complaint: listeners have "grown up seeing" alien stories in documentaries and films, and those stories are limited. April says she talks about beings who are not in those stories because, in her view, no one else is talking about them. The conversation moves into reptilians and into a hierarchy of dimensions, with references to the seventh and eleventh, in which some beings are placed far from the fear-based figures of mainstream culture. The conversation frames these as more complex and more benevolent than the usual picture, though the segments are not always fully developed on air, and a reader should take the hierarchy as her framing rather than as a map.

The Galactic Federation appears in the same discussion as one of the names used for organized beings who work with Earth. Again, these are the speaker's terms, presented as part of her account.

Where do technology and awakening fit in?

Late in the conversation the talk widens to technology. Rose raises whether people want to merge with AI, and the two discuss the appeal of going off the grid. The thread ties back to the idea that the real story is not the contact itself but what it asks of people. The episode's closing movement returns to shifting and awakening, the idea that outside beings and inner change are part of one process. For April, the purpose of contact is not a list of revelations but a reorientation toward presence, the same quality she named at the start as both her greatest strength and her greatest weakness.

How should a reader weigh these claims?

The honest answer is that this episode is a single speaker's account, recorded in a podcast format where the guest is free to speak without external verification. It contains concrete details: a sixteen-year-old's regression, a father's course, a retreat, a number of hours and lifetimes. It also contains claims that cannot be checked in the conversation: that time is simultaneous, that interdimensional beings visited her, that she has accessed past lives on spaceships. Readers can take the practices seriously, such as the attention to presence and the honest admission of irresponsibility at university, while treating the cosmology as belief. The most grounded thing April says may be her own first line of defense: that she had no training when she started, and that she now sees that as a risk.

Where to go from here

If this conversation resonated, the full episode is available on iTunes, Spotify, and Soundcloud, where the Highest Self Podcast publishes its interviews. You can follow Elizabeth April on social media at @elizabethapril. If you are interested in past life regression or trance work, look for teachers who describe their training clearly, and be cautious about any practice that promises to skip the preparation April herself came to regret.