This started with the "healing color" visualization, which was the bright cerulean blue of a sunny sky. In particular the visualization that came to me was of a beach, phasing back and forth between being a realistic beach and being the more-vivid-than-life colors of an anime beach. The bright blue color was suffused with the warmth of sunlight, simultaneously giving it a "yellow" feel .
Appropriately enough, the first childhood memory that came up when prompted was of the National Museum of the U.S. Navy where I went many times as a kid, which had chunks of WWII-era battleships and submarines set up for kids to climb on and play around, including the deck guns and periscopes. This memory led to a string of other childhood museum-ish trip memories, including going to the National Zoo with my family when my mother's parents came up to D.C. when I was around three-ish (I was in a stroller, that's all I can point to for my age), as well as any number of field trips or trips with my Uncle Kenny to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum back when the U.S.S. Enterprise model was still hanging from the ceiling in the stairwell, and the Natural History Museum. Brian Weiss prompted me to consider why this memory came up and why it was important right now, and I got a very clear response of, "Remember, the world is bigger. You've been stuck in a very small focus of home-work-home lately. There's more to life."
The video moved on to in utero memories, which I always seem to get spotty results from. In this particular case I got the impression of amber light and a distant muffled heartbeat. (And yes, I know amber light makes no sense in utero. But that's what came to me.) I also had a vague sensation of my body, and particularly my head and face, being very small, smaller than my consciousness properly fit into.
When prompted to visualize a garden, the oceanic motif returned as I found my consciousness swimming around a coral reef in bright blue water, something I've never actually experienced but have been wanting to add to my "bucket list" as of late. Brian Weiss said to visualize a door that would lead to a past life memory and my brain supplied the door to Engineering from the original Enterprise . When I passed through this door, I caught a fleeting glimpse of a mental image of a submarine, but this was a model or schematic diagram of some kind, not an actual submarine.
As the images came more into focus I saw the railing of a steamer, which was close enough to the shore that I could tell it was a forested headland, and I think there was a bridge ahead of us. Whether we were putting out to sea or coming in from a voyage, I'm not sure, but I was a member of the crew, one of the officers I think. Ahead of me I saw a friend/colleague of mine, although he was turned away so I couldn't clearly see his face. I know he had sandy brown hair and a nautical-style beard, and my mind connected him with InkBlitzer, although whether this was actually one of Blitzy's incarnations or just a realization of an analogue relationship ("In the previous life you were friends with this guy the way you're friends with InkBlitzer now" kind of thing), I'm not sure.
The video then prompted me to go to the end of that lifetime; I saw the bedroom of a coastal cottage as you might expect from a seaman. It was mid-morning and there was light coming in through the windows, but they were obscured by gauzy white curtains. There was a bed and "I" was in it, the first time I've ever seen another version of myself in one of these exercises. I looked a bit like James Mason in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, dark hair and cropped beard with streaks of white. I was somewhere in my '60s, bedridden and clearly not going to recover. I was aware of some family members were around me, but only as vague shapes. Brian Weiss asked "What lessons are there to learn from this life?" and although I contemplated the question, I didn't get a direct answer.
I suspect the next portion of the meditation provided an indirect answer, however. When prompted to find a spiritual guide or a relative, my mom was instantly there, which surprised me. I told her that I wasn't happy with the way her own passing had gone, her in bed with her mind shut down by morphine and only the hospice care nurse to be with her, but that I hadn't been able to figure out a better solution. She wasn't bothered by this particularly, and when I asked her why she had chosen to go that way, she replied, "That wasn't a lesson you needed to go through, so I wanted to spare you from it."
My studies in reincarnation, life-as-school, and spirit groups prompted me to think about my relationship with her, and so I said, "Are we done with all the stuff we had to go through?"
"Mostly," she said, presumably meaning that there'd be a little more to deal with in a future lifetime, but that hopefully it wouldn't be too much more to cope with.
"Good," I said. "I'm tired of fighting. I just want us to love each other now." We hugged, and I said, "Thanks, Mom."
"I'm not really your mom, you know. I just played your mother this time around."
Such a friggin' her thing to say! XD I just replied with "You know what I mean."
"Yes," she said. "I know what you mean." As the video prompted me to head back to normal consciousness, I could see that she was leaving, so I simply kept repeating "I love you" until she was gone, because really that's all there was left to say.
Then Professor Weiss counted up to ten, and I opened my eyes.
 Blue + yellow = green. Green is the traditional color of the heart chakra. Just sayin'.
 Hearkening back to the model in the Smithsonian, which is a connection I didn't make until I was writing this. I have long connected spaceships and submarines in my mind– I have often said that the best Star Trek movie ever made was The Hunt for Red October.