Over the past few weeks my sadness and grief over Dexter’s death has been getting worse and worse. I was overcome with heaviness and tiredness, I was tearful and had stabbing pains in my heart and developed back ache. These can be symptoms of entity attachment, but I didn’t realize it at first, not until I saw the white bird on the roof yesterday.
The bird is a wagtail. We don’t see them often here. (Just as I typed this a robin flew in the cabin, this has never happened before either. I’ve let him out the window, but now I’m wondering what the birds are communicating.) There were two wagtails here, a pair. In the sunlight I recognised it as the same species that I saw on the roof of the rented house that helped me clear Dexter’s entities for the first time. The question burst into my mind: did I have entities?
In the predawn in between time when I was in bed, not quite awake and not quite asleep, I realized that my grief had attracted something “other”. I asked for its name, “Juan Jose” it said. So, laying in my bed with Dean and Tulku next to me and Riley at my feet, I told Juan Jose that he needed to leave, that this wasn’t the place for him. Nothing happened.
How do I clear myself of entities, I mused. Is this even possible? I needed help. The image of Dexter inviting me into the woods popped into my mind and Tulku groaned and wriggled closer. Was it possible for them to be connected? Tulku was only three months old and I didn’t want to risk harming him, but the spirit of the dog shaman flows through him and Dexter is working with us in the nagual, the invisible world. I asked Tulku if he was ready and he rolled over onto his back and groaned again.
I saw the thread that linked Tulku and Dexter and tild Juan Jose to follow it, that I understood why he was here, but that this wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Nothing happened. I could still feel his invisible weight clinging to my heart. We needed more help – who would help?
Suddenly Oscuria appeared in my mind. “I’ll help,” she said. She didn’t need to do anything; she just showed up and suddenly Juan Jose was gone. perhaps he had a connection with horses. But the physical ache in my heart didn’t shift. Was there some one else there?
“Who are you?”
“Mari Carmen” came the reply.
My mind was suddenly flooded with images of the lost souls of the Franco years. “Disappeared” fathers and sons leaving wives and mothers, like Mari Carmen, withering away in the desert of unknowing, unable to leave even after death. I felt her sadness and knew that my sadness over Dexter had attracted her and that now I was feeling her sadness and grief too.
Mateu had told us about a friend who is visiting who is active in an organisation that scours the country, locating and exhuming the remains of people murdered by the Franco regime so that their relatives can give them a proper burial. Somehow, this tenuous connection through my consciounsess and my own feelings of sadness, brought Mari Carmen to me. I sensed her desolation and exhaustion, but I was also able to separate her feelings fro my own. My grief for Dexter diminished with the realization that so much of our relationship continued after his physical death. With that, her attachment to me faded and Oscuria led her away.
The next morning the pain in my chest was gone, along with the sadness and tiredness that had weighed me down. Lost souls are attracted to grief and sadness because it is the experience they held with the greatest intensity when they were alive and it is all they remember and they are afraid to let it go and face oblivion. It is up to the living to let go our grief and sadness so that we can all find peace.