It was the first energetic thing that I could bring myself to do after Kal’s death. I knew what needed to be done, but I needed a week away to even begin to get enough space between the event and what I needed to find the strength to do. Energetically, shamanically, we had discussed the concept of clearing death energy many times. This was not the circumstance in which I ever intended to use such practices.
Yet the fact remained. Kal’s energy needed to be released from the spot where he had died. Only I knew that. Only I knew how to do that. Only I cared that it was done. He would only have wanted me to be the one to do it. So I had to stiffen up the sinews and go back there. Back to the slopes of Dinas Bran in Llangollen.
On the way it looked so familiar. I remembered all of our conversation that day – his hopes for the future; his travel plans; how other people seemed not to share our levels of commitment to this kind of spiritual work; our shared admiration for Carlos Castaneda’s accounts; and how I was dressed in white and he was in black. Some things were profound, others insignificant. At the time we may not have known which were which.
A Hard Rain
As I began the climb memories came flooding back as though a sluice gate had been opened. As I walked I re-traced the path as exactly as I could, in a meditative state of mind all the way. I walked past the fateful spot and felt my heart ache. That feeling again. A feeling like someone was gripping my heart in some kind of Dim Mak move from a martial arts film.
I reached the top and the strain on my heart got stronger with each step. I was re-living Kal’s experience, I felt. To the point where I thought I might suffer the same effects! As I reached the top the rain began, and I knew this was the beginning of the cleansing process.
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