Travelogue from Inner and Outer Spaces
S C I E N C E & S P I R I T
PSYCHOPOMP
Flipping through the March/April 2004 issue of the magazine HAWAII, I came
upon an article about the artist Herb Kawainui Kane who paints Hawai'ian
island history and mythology. His rendering of the battle at Nu'uanu
Pali in 1795, with its depiction of men in the throngs of death, brought
back the powerful memory of an experience I had in January of 2000 on the
island of O'ahu.
A native Hawai'ian friend had taken me on a sight-seeing tour. From Honolulu
we went to Diamond Head and Eternity Beach, then on to the lava shores
at Makapu'u Beach Park with its shallow lava basins and geyser-like blowholes. On
the way over the Ko'olau Mountain Range back to Honolulu, we stopped at
Nu'uanu Pali Overlook. This is the place where, in 1795, King Kamehameha
the Great defeated O'ahu's forces by pushing the enemy warriors over the
cliff (pali) into their death. The place has a dramatic feel. It
is filled with the violence and the anguish of fighting men.
At the day's end I went to a restaurant in Waikiki for dinner. I indulged
in the pleasure of satisfying the physical needs of my body, while savouring
the various sensations of taste, fragrance and colour of the meal's ingredients. Lost
in such earthly delight, I was caught off-guard by a sudden sense of raw
existential fear. Before I could even make an attempt to analyze the source
of that fear, I was pulled into an event whose cause lay outside of my
time and space.
Somebody grabbed my wrist in a powerful grip. I looked up and there was
a young Hawai'ian man, maybe eighteen years old, his eyes filled with the
terror of death. I recognized him as a warrior and, in that same
instant, it was as if we had mingled: I felt his fear of impending death
as he was clinging to a rock ledge at Nu'uanu cliff. Enemy warriors
were kicking him, trying to push him over into the rocky abyss.
I experienced his pain and also his horror at the realization that he was
about to fall to his death. He wanted to return to his village and
join his family. He was desperately trying to escape his fate. He
was too young to die, he wanted to live, wanted to go home. He frantically
clung to me.
I managed to disentangle myself from the man's emotional turmoil and his
grasp. While I tried to calm him down, my shamanic mind analyzed
the situation: here was the soul of a Hawai'ian warrior who had died a
terrible death in battle but had not managed to reach the other realm. For
two hundred years his soul had been wandering.
In shamanic understanding, the soul of a person undergoing a violent death
might not realize that its body has died. Confused and unable to
make the transition to the realm of the dead, the soul tries frantically
to find its body. Often, such a desperate attempt of returning to
physicality leads to the possession of another person's body. Based
on my shamanic training, I concluded that in the case at hand psychopomp
was required. Psychopomp is a procedure in which a lost soul is guided
from the realm of the living to the realm of the dead. I consulted
with my spiritual teachers to see if I was allowed to perform the work. They
gave me permission.
I
asked the young warrior if he wanted me to take him to his mother and
father and to the people of his village. It was obvious that, since
his death at Nu'uanu Pali in 1795, all his loved ones had already gone
over to the other side. In his agitated state, he did not understand
and just stared at me. I took him by his hand and gently pulled
him forward, telling him that soon he would be reunited with his mother,
his father, his siblings. When he comprehended the meaning of my
words, his eyes widened. The prospect of finally going home appeared
to relax him. His step became more assertive, and he started talking
to me about life in his village.
While listening to him, I asked my power animals to
assist me in the task of taking the young man where he needed to go. I
also called out to the warrior's ancestors to come forward and to receive their
son and to welcome him to the other side. As we approached the threshold
between the realm of the living and the realm of the dead, which I, as a living
person, can not cross, a stately Hawai'ian woman appeared in the distance. I
sensed her to be the warrior's mother. There were other people emerging
behind her as well, some young, some old. They all smiled and started waving. I
pointed in their direction, and no sooner had I let go of the young man's hand
that he recognized his kin and ran towards them. I saw them embracing their
long lost son.
That same moment I felt a tap on my left shoulder and
heard the words: "Are you alright?" The question catapulted me
back into the reality of the restaurant. I opened my eyes and felt tears
running down my face. My hands, holding fork and knife respectively, were
suspended in mid-air, having abandoned the task of eating. Only now did
my ordinary-reality mind realize that I had been performing a psychopomp in non-ordinary
reality. A bit sheepishly, and most probably unconvincingly, I answered
the waitress' question in the affirmative. I managed to regain my composure
and quickly finished my meal. All the neighbouring tables had been vacated
- I hoped it was because of the late hour, not because of me. Although
I had done psychopomp work a couple of times, never had I performed it in public,
and certainly not in the midst of a restaurant.
* ..........*.......... *.......... *..........*.......... *.......... * ..........*.......... *
I walked out into the Hawai'ian night. The sky was filled with myriads of brilliant stars. Pausing in admiration of such beauty and mystery, I sent a blessing to the young warrior of Nu'uanu Pali and bade him farewell. And I thanked my spiritual helpers for their assistance.
Jeanne-Rachel Salomon
June 2004
* ..........*.......... *.......... *..........*.......... *.......... * ..........*.......... *
| About Science & Spirit | Conversations on Serendip | Events | Links | Reading List | Forum |
| Science and Spirit Home | Center for Science in Society | Serendip Home |
