Staying With It
We’d spent the day together full of ups and downs and near-death experiences… at least in my mind. One of the phrases that kept coming to me when I was with Kaheka was, “Stay with it, stay with it.” I assumed that it was my inspired message to him. As I write, I’m wondering if it wasn’t his inspired message to me. I sensed he was doing some kind of spiritual work but I didn’t know what. But, even so, I finally became exasperated with this ongoing issue.
I called my friend, one of my spiritual soulmates. I told her I couldn’t do this anymore. I felt I was in a vice with the pressure increasing and no way out. I simply didn’t know what to do. I didn’t yet know that the feeling was ok, even though a most uncomfortable place. It was a moment for surrender to “not knowing.”
My friend could not offer any specific help other than her nonjudgmental support, her beautiful gift to me. I had to find my own way. I finally started telling her about the moments of the divine gifts from the homeplace that I had been offered (described in Surrogate Messenger, Part 2: Fenced Out), the simultaneous songs across the pasture of multiple birds, the horses in concert pointing toward us, the dog tenderly licking and comforting, the horses in a semi-circle around Kaheka, and Tal herding Kaheka back to the barn. As I focused on these memories, my frustrations started to dissipate, I felt a calm and a clarity starting to flow as I talked. I had found the homeplace within and this time I was able to do more than observe, I could feel it. I stayed with it.
Inviting Kaheka In
While I was still on the telephone, it began to rain, a springtime downpour. Kaheka stood outside in the rain. My friend, who had picked up on the change in my mood, said playfully, “Why don’t you invite him in?” Such a lighthearted response became my guidance for the next step.
I hung up the telephone and I went out to Kaheka and invited him into the stall, and my heart as well. He came immediately. At that moment we became powerfully connected. He gestured with his head up the hill where the herd was grazing, a definitive reminder of their presence with us. I did some of my own form of energy flow on his body, observing his receptivity as he relaxed. Instinctively I started working on his tail, massaging it, bending it, moving it in synchronicity with my body as if in some kind of flowing dance. I was feeling a deep and fulfilling joyfulness, otherworldly where all things exist as one. Kaheka began to communicate with me.
He told me that he was intercepting crises on behalf of my beautiful friend who has had more than her share in her life as she has persevered on her spiritual path. Kaheka went on to explain that my role was equally important as a support to the work he was choosing to do as a surrogate messenger. As I worked his tail, Kaheka, true to the meaning of his name, “tide pool” boy, and true to his character of unveiling hidden mystery, continued to reveal his role and mine through words and feeling.
With his spiritual work being uncovered, I now understood that something much more important was taking place in the mystical realm. I was dwelling in that safe, secure, and delightful homeplace at last. Could it be that the shift happened when I started remembering those special divine moments and sharing them with my friend? Was it that remembering and receiving that opened the door to Kaheka’s communication to me? Kaheka, the one who unveils the hidden, the camouflaged, the disguised, and now Surrogate Messenger.
With more rains threatening that night, Kaheka lay down on the ground in the special paddock for such weather. I sat on the doorstep close by after trying more bodywork on Kaheka which he told me was too stimulating and not helpful. My presence seemed to disturb him. No rains at that moment, a sliver moon graced the sky. The night was calm and beautiful and I sat peacefully watching the movement of the moon on the grasses stretched out in front of me as the light rose over the trees behind. As I settled into this scene, his voice abruptly interrupted my serene mood. He wanted me to go. He had important work to do and could do it best alone. There was something sacred about the message and the moment. I knew I must go.
Quietly, reverently, I rose to leave as I would if walking out of an awe-inspiring cathedral. Whatever his work was, it seemed to fill the whole barnyard and beyond. Doing all I could to make him comfortable and having given him his remedies, I had no doubts about leaving him that night out of respect for his spirit. He had spoken.
Before I left, I gently placed some pieces of warm clothing over him so he wouldn’t tangle with a bigger blanket. I had snatched a king-sized pillow from my studio upstairs in the barn and I placed it on the ground about where his head might be when he stretched out. I checked on him one more time as I was leaving. His head was on the pillow as I had hoped, and the red checked wool shirt made him look like something out of a storybook. My heart melted as I took in the sweetness of his body stretched out like a child tucked in bed. He was at peace. And so was I, even though I expected him to be gone by morning and I would find him pretty much as I’d left him. I did know that if he needed to leave his body to finish his work, this last view of him I would carry as a comfort forever.
I turned out the light, closed the barn door and left this powerful sentient being to do his work. Tomorrow morning I would know whether he made it through the night.