by Scott Blum
After several minutes, he finally spoke. “Your power animal has taken the form of a raven, and it has led me to a young woman in a car who has a piece of your soul. She is no longer of this world, but she has not yet journeyed to the other side.”
I immediately got chills over my entire body and tried to wrap myself in the blanket I was lying on.
“Do you know who this is?”
“Uh-huh.” I was barely able to choke back the tears. “Cheryl.”
“Good. Cheryl wants you to know that she is okay, and she wishes you well. But it is time for her to leave, and you need to accept your soul back so she can continue on her journey.”
I started to feel guilty. Was I somehow preventing Cheryl from moving on to the other side?
The drumming became more and more intense, and I thought I heard Puppy Don whimper in the corner.
“Scott, are you ready to receive the missing piece of your soul?”
“Yes.” I was barely able to use my voice, as I could sense something big was about to happen.
“I ask for the support and strength of the sacred raven, representing intuition and spiritual awakening. Please help us retrieve Scott’s soul from Cheryl and bring it safely and purposefully back to this dimension, where it may reside with its rightful owner.”
At almost that exact moment, the sun darkened outside and the air in the tipi became freezing cold. It went from summer to winter in a matter of seconds, and the fire in the center was extinguished without ceremony. The smoke from the herbs began to tickle the back of my throat, and the insistent drumming made my temples throb in time.
“Scott, open your palms to the sky and prepare to receive what is yours.”
“Okay,” I said, hoping that I was doing it right.
“Is your heart open and filled with love?”
“Yes,” I whispered. I concentrated on my love for Cheryl and intuitively pressed my chest outward as far as it would go.
Robert started chanting something I couldn’t understand, and I began to feel nauseated while the bottoms of my feet tingled. The feeling moved up the back of my legs to the base of my spine and eventually found its way to the back of my neck. The drumming continued to increase in intensity until all of a sudden it stopped, and silence fell over the tipi with the heaviness of a large wool blanket.
I opened my eyes and could barely see through the darkness, but as my eyes adjusted, I was able to make out Robert, who was lighting a long, narrow pipe with a smoldering branch from the extinguished fire.
“The raven has returned with the missing piece of your soul and is among us now. I will now breathe in what has been retrieved, and as I exhale, you will receive what is yours.”
Robert placed his lips on the narrow shaft of the pipe and inhaled fully, deep into his lungs. He gently put the pipe down on the ground with both hands and then cupped them in the same way Cheryl had done in my dreams. He closed his eyes and blew the smoke out of his mouth, through his cupped hands, and onto my chest. At precisely the same moment, the wind blew through the untied canvas panels at the top of the tipi and filled the air with the sound of flapping wings.
The smoke felt like it effortlessly permeated my skin and seeped directly into my internal organs. It instantly warmed my insides and quickly began to spread—first to my lungs, then to my heart, then to my stomach, and then throughout my neck and limbs. I felt a wave of emotion unlike any I had ever experienced before, and I immediately started to weep. The smoke filled me with sadness and I couldn’t control my tears. I was literally convulsing with sorrow as tears flowed for what seemed to be hours. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. All I could do was feel . . . feel sadness and grief.
“Welcome your soul back to you. Let it know how glad you are to have it again, and promise you will take good care of it and will never let it go.”
I tried my best to follow his instructions, but all I could do was cry.
“You gave Cheryl a piece of your soul, which you believed was the ultimate gift, but nobody can use your soul other than you yourself.”
My reintegrated soul was swirling inside, and I could actually feel the new part of me that had returned like an old friend. It was tender and felt exposed to the elements when I moved. Gradually my vision began to blur, and I felt as if I were falling deep into the earth while losing my grasp on consciousness.
“Close your eyes,” Robert said kindly. “It’s time for you to rest.”
I followed his advice . . . and surrendered to a deep, deep sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
When I awoke the next morning, I could almost taste the stale smoke that permeated my clothes. As I opened my eyes and saw the pointed peak of the canvas tipi, it took me a moment to remember where I was and what I’d been doing. After I reclaimed my faculties, I rolled over, expecting to find Robert and Puppy Don, but they were nowhere to be seen. There were several blankets and items of clothing strewn across the dirt floor, and the center pit was no longer smoldering from the previous night’s fire.
I emerged from the tipi and called out to my friends, but they were obviously long gone. After the muted light inside of the tipi, the sun nearly blinded me when I was outside. The light seemed to scream at me, and I covered my eyes for a few seconds until they adjusted. When I was able to focus, all of the colors seemed much brighter and all the sounds were much louder. It was as if the volume on everything was turned up, and I could see and hear clearly for the first time in my life. I spun around in place and was taken by the beauty of the valley I was in. The dried grasses became beautiful golden strands bending in the breeze, and the mountains were proud protectors of the valley below. It was as if I were seeing pure beauty for the first time in my life, and it was alive. The energy of beauty emanated from every living thing around me, and I was in awe.
Then almost immediately I imagined it all disappearing into nothingness. My heart sank as I realized that Cheryl was gone forever, and I dropped to my knees and began to sob. I couldn’t control my emotions, and I kept moving from extreme elation to deep sadness from one minute to the next. I could feel my emotions much more deeply than I ever had before, and since I hadn’t previously let go of Cheryl, her death seemed to hit me all at once.
I entered the tipi one last time to gather my overshirt and make sure I hadn’t left anything behind, and then followed the lightly worn path across the grassy fields toward town. When I first saw houses, mailboxes, and cars again, it was a shock—I was surprised by how quickly I’d become used to being surrounded by nothing but nature.
As I walked toward town, I reflected on what had happened the day before and traced the edges of the hole I had felt in my soul. I was pleased to discover that it was mostly filled in. The piece of me that had previously been dead was now very much alive and adjusting to the outside world, but was still quite sensitive and fragile.
I hadn’t had anything to eat since the previous morning and decided to stop by my favorite sandwich place once I arrived back in town. When I entered the restaurant, the contrast to the outdoors was quite dramatic—not only in the lighting and the smells, but in the feeling. When I was outside, it felt light and airy; but once inside, I felt a muddled energy that weighed on my heart. It also didn’t help that every square inch of the walls was covered floor to ceiling with framed black-and-white photos and wicker-basket sculptures of everything from farm animals to airplanes. The cluttered wall coverings made me feel claustrophobic compared to the simple canvas walls of the tipi, and I probably would have left if I hadn’t been so hungry.
I found an available table at the front of the restaurant and placed my order with the short, tattooed waitress with a raspy voice. She wore her dyed red hair in a makeshift bun, and her clumpy mascara implied a late night out that she still hadn’t recovered from. While I was waiting for the food to arrive, I could feel a huge dark cloud coming from the back kitchen that slowly began to fill the entire restaurant. And as I was sitting on the black vinyl seat, I discovered tha
t I could feel the emotions of each person there simply by being open to them. It was as if everyone’s true feelings flowed to me like the ocean tides, and as the waves broke, I could sense their emotions as if they were my own. And although it was entertaining at first, most people in the restaurant weren’t very happy, so I tried to ignore everyone as best I could.
When my food finally arrived, I was surprised to discover that there was also energy emanating from the sandwich on the plate. It was nearly identical to the dark cloud I felt coming from the back kitchen, and I became quite agitated when I picked the sandwich up. I wasn’t sure what was happening to me, but I knew that I was hungry and had to eat. I decided to put the sandwich down, and bit into one of the cut carrots garnishing the plate. They were still fresh, and I could feel the life force entwine with mine as I chewed, swallowed, and felt it make its way down my throat. The pieces of carrot were definitely satisfying, but unfortunately there were only three. All that was left after I ate them was the turkey-and-Swiss I had ordered, and when I picked it up, I again felt the dark energy begin to agitate me. The sandwich looked great, but when I bit into it, I almost choked. I felt as if I’d consumed someone else’s anger with that first bite, and it was toxic to me.
I couldn’t help myself from spitting the mouthful onto the plate, and I rubbed my eyes while trying to figure out what was happening to me. My stomach was threatening to empty, and my head was swirling as if I were going to pass out. I pushed the plate to the opposite end of the table, which helped a bit, but I was still quite dizzy. I had completely lost my appetite and didn’t want to remain there any longer. And as I looked around the restaurant, I could sense that the energy from all the patrons was becoming even darker than it had been before. It was as if they’d all come there to consume the chef’s anger and were filling themselves up with it, whether they wanted to or not.
I clumsily tossed some crumpled bills on the table and quickly left the restaurant. Outside, I gradually felt much better as the wave of nausea began to dissipate in the fresh air. Something about the soul retrieval had made me ultrasensitive to other people’s energy, and I was surprised by how profound the sensitivity was. I was also genuinely upset about the horrible experience I’d had in the restaurant. Letting the chef transfer his bad energy into the food of others was inexcusable. According to the sign on the door, the restaurant prided itself on using only the freshest organic ingredients, but the food was completely ruined by the chef’s mood.
I decided to take it easy and relax for the rest of the day. I made my way to the entrance of Lithia Park and strolled through the initial lawn adjacent to downtown. I’d been there a few times before, but it was like I was seeing everything for the first time. Throughout the park, exotic plants were labeled with brass name tags, and the paths were groomed with a luxurious layer of wood chips that felt soft to the feet. And the babbling creek flowed through the park, carrying its soothing sounds over the pebbled banks.
The park was unusually tranquil, and I spent the rest of the day exploring—lazing in different corners, determined to find the ideal spot. Just above the upper duck pond I finally found a warm patch of grass by the creek that seemed to have my name on it. Lying down on nature’s green blanket, I felt a gentle breeze caress my face while I listened to the peaceful water sounds of the creek flowing nearby. For the first time since my childhood, I fell asleep under the clouds and drifted in and out of consciousness for what seemed to be hours. I was still deeply saddened by the memory of Cheryl, but the natural beauty of the park was rejuvenating, and I felt purified as the afternoon progressed.
As the sun went down, I made my way back to the Co-op to pick up some prepared brown rice to satisfy my returning hunger before I made my way home. I was disappointed that Robert and Puppy Don weren’t there, and I began to feel abandoned by them. After such an intense experience, I felt that I really needed to talk to somebody who understood what I was going through, and wondered why Robert had left without even saying goodbye. And the more I thought about it, the more angry I became. He was directly responsible for everything I was going through, and I felt like he had deserted me without any explanation.
Perhaps I was feeling overemotional, but I was still angry at him when I finally made it back to my apartment. After drinking several tall glasses of water and eating a few bites of brown rice, I crawled into my soft bed and cocooned myself tightly within my blankets so that I couldn’t see or feel anything else from the outside world.
CHAPTER SIX
The next morning I was awakened by a knock on my door, and when I unlatched the lock, I saw a short woman with long wavy blonde hair wearing a flowing white dress. She had kind eyes and a Mona Lisa smile that exuded a contentment I recognized but seldom felt myself. Maybe I was still lingering in dreamland, but it also looked like she didn’t have any edges separating her body from the surroundings.
“Scott?” she asked.
“Uh-huh,” I replied while still rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“Hi, I’m Martika. Robert told me you had some very intense work done, and you brought back a pretty significant piece of your soul.”
“You know Robert?”
She nodded.
“Where is he?” My anger began to return. “He just left me without even saying goodbye.”
“He does that sometimes.” She nodded sympathetically. “I know he’s very busy at the moment, but he does need to work on his bedside manner.”
“How did you know where to find me?” I was starting to wake up, and I began to get a strange feeling about what was happening. “I never told Robert where I lived.”
“It’s a small town,” she laughed. “Everyone knows everyone’s business—you will soon enough. My friend Leslie rented this apartment to you. She told me about you when you first came to town. My daughter also used to live here. It has a lovely view from the bedroom, don’t you think?”
I nodded as I remembered Leslie the landlord with her silver SUV. Thinking back, I remembered she did seem to be awfully chatty about the neighbors, and I made a mental note to be extra careful about what I said in this town.
“Can I come in?” Martika asked.
“Oh yes, sorry. I’m kind of out of it at the moment.”
“No problem,” she said as I shut the door behind her. After we sat down on my brown and black sectional, she appeared to gradually come into focus, although her lips didn’t seem to move very much when she spoke.
“How does your soul feel?” she asked in a concerned voice after arranging a large pillow to support her back.
That was a good question. I finally said, “It feels tender.”
“Yes, tender is a good word. I’ve done a lot of soul retrieval, and the reclaimed soul always feels tender after reintegration. Now is a very special time—it’s important to give it attention and gratitude for returning so that it can adapt gracefully.”
I nodded.
“And how is your mood?” she continued.
I felt as if I’d been crying for days, and I was still quite melancholy. I had never let myself grieve for the death of Cheryl, and years of sorrow were hitting me all at once. “I’m very sad,” I said after a long pause.
“That’s because you lost someone very dear to you, and you weren’t able to process your grief because your soul was in shock when you lost her. Robert and I both think it’s going to be very difficult for you to deal with this on your own, and we believe you need a support group to help you.”
“Oh, I’m not sure I need that.” I dreaded the idea of a fluorescent-lit office building filled with bad coffee, stale doughnuts, and depressed people.
“It’s not what you think,” Martika continued. “You’ve cut yourself off from your ancestors, and they are willing to help you through all this. But you need to get in touch with them, and the easiest way is with a constellation.”
“What’s that?”
“A constellation allows you to reach out to your family soul, which gives you
the power to live your daily life with the support of your ancestors. You have recently reclaimed your personal soul, but it carries too much weight for you to shoulder on your own. That’s why you couldn’t handle the death of Cheryl. Every one of us has access to our family soul, which is like an unconditional support system.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. I’d just gone through an intense experience getting a missing piece of my own soul back. Now I was told I needed to get my family soul back, which was something I didn’t even know I had. I was filled with sadness, but I was also starting to get angry. Who was this person, and why was she coming after me like this? I just wanted to sleep. I was so tired. Why couldn’t she just let me sleep?!
“Come on, Scott—it’ll be good for you. There’s a constellation starting in an hour, and I think you should go.”
I really didn’t want to go anywhere, but I didn’t have the energy to protest. I was still a little shaky, so Martika helped me down the weathered wooden steps and into her white Subaru station wagon. It was the first time I’d been in a car since mine had died, and it felt unusually confining.
We followed the main road to the southernmost edge of town and veered away from Dead Indian Memorial toward Mount Ashland. When we were nearly to the town limits, we turned off the main road and drove through a neighborhood filled with manicured country estates. Acres of white picket fences contained fields of livestock, including horses, sheep, llamas, and goats. After about a mile and a half, Martika pulled into a pea-graveled driveway between two imposing red barnlike buildings that marked the entry to a large country-style compound. We slowly drove up the circular driveway and parked near a small white round building with a wood-shingle roof that was partially shaded by a pair of majestic oaks.
“Here we are,” said Martika. “Stay in the car for a moment and I’ll get everything ready for you.”