Gradually, as if in slow motion, I look up into the bell tower, into the base of a large brown bell, which tolls steadily, calling the nuns to prayer.
Now, I see nuns dressed in black and white, kneeling in prayer. They belong to the Benedictine Order. I see the face of one. Young, heart-like features, pale complexion, blue eyes, small petite build. It is me.
It is as though I came here hoping to find peace and to be with good people, but as I look around me, I see that they, like myself, were just seeking to escape from the harsh realities of life. It is quiet and peaceful in the beautiful convent.
Now I feel the coolness of stone beneath my feet. I am in a beautiful cathedral, praying. Golden streams of sunlight filter through a huge, stained glass window, in a multitude of soft pastel tones.
Suddenly, I sense fear, as though the convent is in terrible danger. I hear the loud noise of horses coming and my heart begins to pound with fear. Our country is being invaded by a barbaric race of men that came from over the sea. Heavily armored, bearing swords, wherever they go they cause destruction, killing and raping, burning houses, stealing, hurting, destroying … piercing the very heart of the land which we love.
With a terrifying crash the huge wooden doors are flung open. Coarse, crude, dirty, noisy soldiers storm in. Cursing they storm towards us and I feel strong, filthy, rough hands grab me and begin to rip the clothing from my trembling body. I am only sixteen and no man has every touched me before.
Much later, I lay, bleeding, dazed, shocked and sobbing on the cool stones that I had once found so comforting. Our sacred space had been turned into a battlefield of broken bodies filled with shame and wailing filled the air.
My body takes a long, long time to heal, but I am not the same person, something in me has changed. I no longer feel clean or spiritual.
Three months later, I discard my nun’s habit and dressed in shabby clothing; I denounce my vows and leave the convent. I feel depressed and worthless, so ashamed, believing that not even God could love me after what happened. With a heart filled with bitterness I knock on doors looking for work. A shadow of the girl I used to be. I am angry with God, angry with myself, angry with the perpetrators and filled with the lust for revenge.
Eventually, I find work as a washerwoman in a gloomy, freezing, castle. Years pass and I want nothing to do with religion. The local pub becomes my place of worship and alcohol my God. I eventually die a cold and lonely death, caring for no one and no one caring for me.
I leave my body and descend into absolute, terrible, depressing darkness. Pitch darkness, silence, absolutely nothing. All that remains is my thoughts, my personality, and my miserable soul. Free from the physical, I still feel unclean, may mind and emotions still sullied by the way I lived my life. The black emptiness made me feel so completely solitary, utterly wretched, and so very frightened. “So, this is Hell”, I thought.
What feels like an eternity passes then a light begins to glow in the darkness. An Angel, called “Karlin” comes into my world. His love penetrates the void of blackness and he gently says, “You have created the darkness that surrounds you. It took a lifetime of evil words and deeds, of negativity, hatred, and fear to bring you to this place. When the original dark forces in human form attacked you, they opened a door and their evil, became your evil. You allowed what happened to poison your mind, body, soul, and emotions. You turned your face away from God and feeling betrayed you chose the world of shadows to feed your hate. The place you are in is the place you created while still on earth. Every human action has a reaction at a spiritual level and because the darkness is your invention, only you can change it”, were his parting words.
I did not want to hear this, but the cold emptiness of my surroundings forces me to think. After all, there was nothing else to do, except confront my Shadow, filled with sourness, resentment, blame and self-pity. The more I brooded the darker my situation became.
Night after endless night, Karlin appears in the darkness, gently talking, helping, and comforting me. He explains that Life is not always kind, that Life is impersonal, it does not care if you are a beggar or a king. It does what it pleases with you, but it is your reaction that counts. It is your reaction to Life that affects your soul and ultimately determines what you will experience after death. “So, change your thoughts, reflect, repent and you will see that your world will begin to lighten”, he gently encouraged me.
I do what he says and the more positive I become; the murky gloom slowly starts to lighten. I learn to pray again, to ask for forgiveness and slowly, very slowly, I start to heal. The painful past gradually recedes, and my world begins to brighten, until finally, forgiven, and clean, I am lifted and taken home rejoicing.
©Katharine Lee Kruger Kruger
For further information contact Katharine@mweb.co.za – www.katharinelee.co.za
Nirmala Reddy says “The colors of the aura may glow and radiate with joy and vitality as we maintain a state of high vibration. The colors may become dull when we are gloomy, depressed, when we complain or are bitter. Appreciation, gratitude, and love intensify the aura, as the heart radiates pink and gold. Indulging in activities such as gossip, back-biting, jealousy, and spite reduces the size and radiance of our auras.
In the African culture the aura is referred to as ‘Seriti’ or the shadow that you cast. It is believed that mountains, trees, or objects cannot cast this shadow, only humans. It is unique to each person and no two are alike. One can read the life story of a person from the Seriti. It is the legacy you leave behind, the consequences of each choice you make. To know one’s Seriti, is to be true to oneself and real. This takes strength of character, values, and principles. The understanding and practice of the positive and negative influences to the aura remains consistent with the general principles surrounding aura – positive uplifting deeds and thoughts enhances and strengthens the aura whereas negative, wrong acts and thoughts have the opposite effect on the aura.”
The aura a glowing rainbow of interweaving streams of shimmering colours that surround and interpenetrate our bodies. To quote Mike Boon “Philosophy for Africa, “Serithi, (the Sotho word for the aura) is thought of as an atmosphere around a person – a physical thing, it is the energy or power that both makes us ourselves and helps us to communicate with others. One’s Seriti reflects’ one’s moral weight, influence and prestige.
It is what identifies us to be good or, indeed, what will identify us as depleted of goodness. The more good deeds one does in life, the more one shares in humanity the greater one’s serithi grows. If we do bad or evil, our serithi is reduced”.
People with extra sensory perception (ESP) can see this field, which is more noticeable around the head and shoulder area. The aura can see, hear, think, feel, sense and to heal. It constantly relays information to the physical assisting us to cope with the everyday demands of living. We use these subtle senses, to interact with nature, the animal kingdom and when we enter the Shamanic Dreamtime.
The same way the physical body has different systems necessary to sustain life i.e. the respiratory, digestive, endocrine system etc., so does your energy field.
There are 7 subtle layers, each of which carries out a function.
5, 6, 7 – The Last 3 Subtle Fields Make up the Spiritual Aura
The human energy field seems to have its own finely tuned nervous system of subtle filaments that appear to radiate outwards from the spinal cord, very much like the filaments that radiate outwards from the pupil of the eye. The next time you meet someone, look serenely into their eyes, and you will be able to see an exact replica of the state of the filaments in their aura.
These look very much like the fine roots of a tree, fanning out from the central root system of the tree trunk into the earth. In the human body, these delicate filaments appear to be an extension of the Peripheral Nervous System (PNS) in the physical body, involved with sensations of touch, pain, heat and cold.
The peripheral nervous system consists of all of the nerves that exist outside of the central nervous system (CNS) (i.e., the brain and spinal cord). The peripheral nervous system regulates sensation, movement, and organ function by sending information from the CNS out to the various body systems, and relaying information from these body systems back to the CNS.
The peripheral nervous system is made up of made up of two main divisions: The autonomic nervous system and the somatic nervous system. The autonomic nervous system regulates the functioning of the organs, while the somatic nervous system controls movement and sensation.
If you look at a leaf, or the roots of a tree, you will see that they too seem to have a similar kind of ‘central nervous system’. For example, an acacia tree not only understands it is under attack when browsed by antelope or giraffe; it quickly injects tannin into its leaves making them taste bitter. The tree then releases a scent, a pheromone, into the air to warn other acacias about potential danger. These neighbouring trees receive the warning and immediately start producing tannin themselves in anticipation of attack.
The filaments in the human aura weave in and out of one another creating a soft, ethereal, oval shaped, latticework, which looks very much like a bird’s nest
Mother Earth also has an emotional field. It is this that warns the Acacia trees of imminent attack, and to which we attune ourselves, when communicating with nature.
The Emotional Field is like an exotic, multi-coloured butterfly, scintillating, with all the glorious colours of nature; the green of lush green grass, the brown of rich soil and bark; the rich blue of sky and water; the warm red glow of an African sunset; pale patches of golden yellow. Just as there are more than 660 species of butterflies in South Africa, so does the EF differ from person to person.
Airy, flowing, and silken, moving gently like smooth butterfly wings, this field seems to have bio-luminescent properties. This radiates light in colour in response to strong feelings generated by the Limbic System and the Hypothalamus in the brain. Some of my client’s report seeing waves of different colours, during a soul retrieval journey, which may be in response to the Limbic System being activated. This emotional field is activated by chemicals released by the limbic system and hypothalamus. Happy memories of a favourite place in nature, trigger the release of endorphins, serotonin, and dopamine. When this happens, the emotional body lights up, making it easier for people to journey.
The limbic system is made of several brain structures, including the hypothalamus, thalamus, hippocampus, and amygdala. These brain structures are now thought to be intimately involved with the formation and physical expression of emotion. The limbic system is a group of brain structures that are involved with various emotions such as aggression, fear, pleasure and in the formation of memory.
Interesting to note, that when I journey on behalf of a client, I notice that their body temperature drops, leaving them cold after a session. This makes me wonder to which extent the hypothalamus is involved.
Constantly changing colours, the emotional body expands and contracts according to our moods. It is at this level that we work with soul retrieval because it contains all the imprints of our original wounding. It is the most densely coloured field of all the subtle layers. A living, moving tapestry of light, radiant, as well as murky and dark shades of colours, each of these reflects some aspect of ourselves. For example; our talents, joys, sexuality, spirituality, leadership qualities, loves, or hates, fears, traumas, accidents, failed marriages, illnesses, losses, and addictions.
When we meet someone, who has the identical colour, resonating at the same frequency as the colour of our emotional field, we make a connection and a whole sequence of events will swing into action. That is why, when Dawn opened the door at Birch Grove Guest House, we all later spontaneously regressed to another life. We probably entered a soul contract, prior to incarnating in this life, to meet at a time and place, to activate a whole chain of events.
Every time our emotional body connects someone who has identical shades of colour, an exchange of energy takes place, and a sequence of happenings swing into motion. Perhaps you will become friends, or lovers, enter a business relationship or repeat an abusive relationship. It all depends on the imprints encoded into the energy field. Sometimes people can get caught in a time loop. Events keep re-creating themselves in a current lifetime until everyone re-connects, breaks the loop and ends the cycle in their current incarnation.
Unable to speak, the emotional body must communicate through the subconscious that we have ‘unfinished business.’ This may manifest in the form of history constantly repeating itself, the abused child lands up in an abusive marriage, the starving child as an adult now has an eating disorder, the person who was hi-jacked, continues to be hi-jacked. The list is endless.
The third layer of the aura is the “mental field”. The shades of gold differ from person to person, as does the size. The ‘sun flare-like’ filaments pulsate rapidly, pick up information, and communicate it to the brain. The golden shades of yellow deepen and expand further and further away from the head and shoulder area, when a person is mentally stimulated. As soon as the person loses interest however, it seems to shrink inwards back towards the outline of the body and lose its lustre.
Rose-pink in colour, the fourth level is called the astral body. It is through this level that we experience lower, middle, and higher world journeys. The astral body separates from the physical during sleep and when journeying. A silver cord keeps it connected to the physical.
The astral body is tuned down during the day to harmonize with daily life.
The following sounds will lull it into an altered state of awareness enabling the shaman to travel into other dimensions.
The Astral Body forms a “bridge” between the Physical and Higher Spiritual Bodies which collectively create the Spiritual Aura. The higher three levels represent our physical, emotional, and mental experience spiritually.
When we are out in the wilderness, the aura ‘feeds’ off the beauty and energy around us. When our etheric field blends with mother earth’s, we may experience unexplained energy, by being able to walk for hours carrying the heaviest pack, sustained by her beauty, harmony, and peacefulness. If at times like this we could also empty the mind of all negativity, we would integrate and appreciate significant spiritual shifts in the wilderness.
Being aware of all the different layers of energy not only around the physical, but also in our environment, opens a whole new world of awareness. The river of consciousness that flows through all of creation has existed since the beginning of time, and all we must do is to tap into it. As John Kehoe says, “We are all in this together. There is no separation. Not even a blade of grass can be cut without the whole universe quivering.” Contact katharine@mweb.co.za for further information. - www.katharinelee.co.za
By: Katharine Lee Kruger Kruger
Images: Photographs of Michael Lee
“My childhood revolved around appointments with an ADHD specialist, occupational therapist, child psychologist, audiologist, surgery, and speech therapists. I battled at school and acting impulsively, was often in trouble. At the age of 9, I discovered a beat-up, old piano which changed my life forever. My passion for music helped me to overcome many challenges and to turn my life around.”
Michael Lee MA QTS PGCE BMUS
Michael is living proof that music can change lives – and brains. Born in Harare, Zimbabwe in 1974, Michael was 10 days old before I saw him for the first time. Born prematurely by Caesarian Section, with Hyaline Membrane Disease, his tiny, blue body lay limply in the incubator, as he struggled to breathe. Hyaline membrane disease is a respiratory disease in which a membrane composed of proteins and dead cells lines the alveoli (the tiny air sacs in the lung), making gas exchange difficult or impossible. Every time the Neonatal staff touched him, his heart stopped beating. He had three cardiac arrests during the first ten days of his life. Doctors warned me that as a result, he might be brain damaged, but due to his incredible fighting spirit, Michael survived.
Growing up, he was very hyperactive, demanding constant stimulation. He did not sleep through until the age of 2 and had me up five to six times a night to comfort and reassure him. Extremely loveable, always laughing and smiling, in sharp contrast to his brother Gareth, early on I realised that there was a developmental problem. He did not measure up to his brother in terms of crawling, walking, feeding, and dressing himself etc., but my doctor assured me that all was well. Michael could not be put in his cot and patted until he went to sleep. The only way he would settle would be if we held him in our arms and sang him to sleep. "Let him cry", people said, "he's just being naughty", but if we left him, he would scream and cry until he went blue in the face and stopped breathing.
The bombshell struck when Michael went for his 'School Readiness Tests' at the age of 6. Up to then, we had concluded that his was just an adorable but very impulsive but 'naughty' little boy. The first thing the psychologist had noticed was that Michael could not hold a pencil correctly. He would clutch it in his fist, instead of holding it between his fingers to write. Although Michael had always come across highly intelligent with a good memory, we were totally shattered to say the least, when we were told that he had 'minimal brain dysfunction' (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder - ADHD).
He wasn't just 'naughty'. There was a reason why he did not seem to listen when spoken to; would daydream and become easily confused; would struggle to follow instructions; be easily distracted, miss details; forget things and constantly demanded attention. He talked non-stop, would twitch, fidget and squirm constantly in his seat.
Add to this was his impulsive destructive behaviour on occasions, like taking poster paints and smashing them on the walls, breaking windows, or starting fires under a bed in the house. If he flew into a rage, which was not too often he could not control himself.
Immediately the diagnosis was made however, as parents, we acted and took Michael to see a doctor who specialised in ADHD. The first thing he looked at was the small fingers of both Michael's hands, which like all the little fingers in our family, were strongly curved inwards. Apparently, this was an indication that there was a genetic tendency towards ADHD on my side of the family!
He referred as to several medical professionals that Michael started seeing regularly, and whom unfortunately; the Medical Aid did not cover. His father James and I were really struggling financially at the time, but somehow, we found the money. They included, amongst others, a Child Psychologist, Occupational Therapist, Audiologist, Speech Therapist etc., - but we dug our heels in when our doctor wanted to put him on Ritalin. He felt it would help to reduce Michael's hyperactivity and increase his concentration. When we refused, we were told that because Michael was ADHD, he would probably drop out of school in Standard 8 because he would never be able to grasp abstract concepts or be able to write or spell correctly. Because of his dyslexia he would probably become either an alcoholic or drug addict. The best thing we could do was to let him start school early, so that when he failed a year, he would still be the same age as everyone in his class.
We followed his advice, something which we have regretted all our lives, because had we just let Michael start school a year later, his journey would have been far less difficult. He would have been more mature emotionally and better able to cope intellectually. We enrolled him in a private school, thinking he would cope better in a smaller class. In the beginning Michael lived up to the psychologist's expectations. He had difficulty concentrating at school; he did not understand the work and drove the teachers crazy with his hyperactivity. “It was so bad that the teachers would duck-tape my mouth and tie me to my chair with my hands behind my back,” says Michael.
At the age of 9, Michael discovered a toy piano that a friend of mine had left lying around. He was at home, recovering from tick bite fever at the time. He found that he was able to listen to tunes on the radio and work out to play them on this piano. Although his father and I were divorced by then, immediately recognising that the child had talent, we clubbed together, bought him an ancient old piano, and organised for him to have music lessons.
He excelled in his piano lessons which in turn had a positive impact on his schoolwork. “I was able to concentrate better in class,” Michael continued. “I started to believe in myself, because until I started playing the piano, I was convinced that I was stupid and not capable of doing the things that other children could. Playing the piano was something I was good at, and not many other people were able to do. I started to get 100% for my music theory exams year after a year, I began to believe that perhaps I was not as stupid as everyone made me out to be,” he concluded.
We never had money to get the old piano tuned, yet when Michael played it, it always played in tune, and he would practise for hours. I remember Gareth, his older brother coming into the kitchen one day with a pained look on his young face saying "Mommy, if I hear 'Fur Elize' one more time, I am going to scream!"
At his recitals, after Michael stopped playing his piece, a hush would descend on the auditorium before the audience broke into resounding applause - there was just something magical in the way he brought the keys on the keyboard to life. At times like this I often thought about what my friend, Dr Peter Smith in Cape Town once said; "There are no children with learning difficulties, each child is just wired for a different frequency". Michaels was music.
Michael began to contradict the psychologists who diagnosed him years earlier. Through sheer hard work, he passed Matric with a university exemption at the age of 17 and went on to study music originally at the University of the Witswatersrand (WITS) and later at the University of Cape Town (UCT). Completing the degree took dedication and practice. In addition to attending lectures, completing written assignments and essays, Michael also practiced the piano between 4 and 6 hours a day. In this environment, Michael was able to use his dyslexia to his advantage. “I found that I was able to condense extensive textbooks on subjects such as harmony and counterpoint to a few pages of underlying principles,” he explained.
“When I finished my BMus Degree in 1995, I initially worked as a private music teacher for a while in Cape Town before marrying and moving to London. There I completed a Post Graduate Certificate in Education at Roehampton University in London and taught at Salesian School (one of the top 5 state schools in Surrey) for 6 years. Not satisfied, I went on to complete a master’s degree in composition at Kingston University in 2012. More recently I wrote and published a book on ‘Understanding Rhythmic Notation’ and am currently busy with the next edition.
As a music teacher, I have found that having had to deal with learning difficulties when I was younger, has made me more patient when working with struggling students. I developed strategies for learning and mastering complex skills and understanding complex ideas. Tactics which I now pass onto my students, to help them to not only master music, but achieve success in other areas of their lives. Several of my students have gone on to study at top universities in the UK, including Oxford and Cambridge.
Apparently, music activates both sides of the brain which enables the brain to process information more effectively,” Michael explained. “Research done by Glenn Schellenerg, demonstrated that children who studied a musical instrument scored better in IQ tests than children who had not studied music. This improvement was across all IQ subtests which were a general measure of academic achievement,” Michael concluded.
Michael found it interesting that Albert Einstein also did very poorly at school until he started to learn the violin. Einstein himself attributed his intellectual success in later life to the fact that he had mastered this instrument. Einstein’s friend G.J Withrow said that Einstein would often improvise on the violin as a way of helping him think and solve problems.
It is not only playing an instrument which assists in education, but research has also found that listening to certain types of music can also have a positive impact on learning and problem solving. The Centre for New Discoveries in Learning have found that learning could be up to five times more effective whilst listening to Baroque music which is played at about 60 beats per minute. The reason for this is that this music helps the brain to move into a relaxed Alpha state (8-12 cycles per second) which is the ideal state for studying.
It was his passion for music that turned Michael's life around. Having to learn to read music, even though he could play by ear, taught him to concentrate, which improved his schoolwork and enhanced his self-esteem. As he perfected his musical talent, his self confidence and self esteem grew in leaps and bounds and as his hearing became more sensitive, he was able to memorise facts, rather than trying to write them down. His vivid imagination created pictures to reinforce memory and through sheer hard work and determination, he wrote and passed Matric at the age of 17, without once failing a standard.
One of his achievements was to compose a piece for the opening ceremony of the International Bar Association's Annual Conference to be hosted in Boston, America on 6 October 2013. The Healing Power of Music was the solution for Michael's Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.
Michael can be contacted on Michaelpiano.lee@gmail.com.
Even better, listen to his music on Spotify by clicking below:
Author’s Note: Names and places have been changed to protect the privacy of the people involved, as well as the sacred space Hogsback where this event took place. This incident is the true story of how I experienced my first soul retrieval under the most incredible circumstances.
The pain in my neck and shoulder was excruciating. The nearer we got to Hogsback, the worse it became. I sat huddled in the car, with my friend, Lucille at the wheel. We journeyed through the richness of the Amatola Mountains, and blinded by pain, I was oblivious to the beauty of the lush indigenous forests, rivers and waterfalls of the Eastern Cape. I was still trying to cope with the terrible grief of the fifth, unexpected, and unnatural death in the immediate family within a short space of time.
For days now, an inner voice had been urging me to leave the workshop I had been conducting in Port Elizabeth and to travel to Hogsback. “Why?” I kept on asking myself. Hogsback was never part of my itinerary. I simply did not have the time, or money, to visit “World’s End” Spiritual Retreat Centre, perched on the side of the mountain, overlooking a valley of cascading waterfalls and pools of multi-coloured flowers.
Not referred to at all in western medical books, soul loss is regarded as the gravest diagnosis in the shamanic culture, because for shamans the world over, illness has always been a spiritual problem; resulting
in a loss of essential life force. They believe that when an event is too painful to handle, we become so deeply wounded that an aspect of our soul goes into hiding, and that, when this happens, the aura (human energy field) loses some of its lustre. Soul Loss can happen as the result of any kind of trauma e.g. the loss of a loved one, divorce, being hi-jacked, raped, being attacked, retrenched etc. Shamans believe that if the soul detaches from the patient completely, the patient will die, but if the soul parts can be retrieved, the individual can be restored to harmony and well-being.
In my case, each time I lost a loved one, another wounded aspect of my soul had detached and gone into hiding. The pain in my shoulder was a physical manifestation of the emotional pain inside, and all the lost soul parts were now demanding attention.
When we arrived at World’s End Guest House, our hostess, Dawn, dressed in a pair of comfortable blue slacks and white casual shirt came to meet us. “Welcome to Hogsback”, she said, reaching out one sun tanned, healthy looking hand to greet us, her kind features creasing into a welcoming smile. This was the first time we had met, and although I noticed the lovely blue colour of her eyes, and her petite slim build, I did not remember her spiritually.
Before commencing with our meal that evening, Sheena, Lucille, Dawn and I joined hands around the well-scrubbed, wooden table. A fire danced merrily in the fireplace, enhancing the cosy atmosphere of the room. Dawn had cooked a delicious rice and lentil stew which we ate while we chatted.
Then it happened! As I put the last spoon of food into my mouth, it felt as though I had been struck by lightning! A shaft of blinding, white light lanced out of the heavens and hit me. An incredible heat pulsed through my body, I felt as though I was burning up. Then, suddenly I began to shiver, and the room began to spin. “I am going to pass out”, I thought. I felt giddy and nauseous. The pain in my shoulder intensified. “What on earth is happening”, I thought. An unseen presence filled the room and telepathically, I was told, “This is spiritual, not physical.”
I excused myself and stumbled from the dining room embarrassed, blinded by pain and completed disorientated, I went to my room and fell onto my bed with the room still spinning around me. I lay there wondering what was going on. I could still hear a discarnate voice whispering, “This is spiritual, not physical.”
The others finished their meal and I heard Sheena leave. “I may as well go to bed”, I thought, perhaps I am ill? I try to get undressed but cannot lift my right arm above my head.
Very concerned, Lucille entered the room to find out what was happening. “Lucille, please come and help me undress”, I asked in agony and confusion. She helped me to change into my pyjamas. Dawn came into the room and began to rub my aching shoulder with healing oils. As she gently massaged the soreness, tears begin pour down my cheeks.
“You are carrying a lot of pain. Let it go, let it go”, said Dawn.
I began to cry uncontrollably, “I am so sorry, I am so sorry”, I sobbed.
“You are using the pain to atone. “This is karma”, Dawn explains in a gentle tone of voice.
“What did I do?” I asked through floods of tears. “What did I do?”
“I will have to ask the Village Chief”, Dawn replied.
“Ask the Chief?” I thought mystified, “am I going crazy?”
Apart from Lucille and myself, there was one else in the room.
Then, Dawn looked across the room, at the huge, fat, grey cat lying on the bed next to me.
“Oh, no”, now I am really going insane”, the thought flashes through my mind. “Smokey, the Cat, is the Village Chief? It can’t be.”
I gazed entranced, as they exchanged telepathic thoughts, their auras flickering in unison. They were talking to one another. The Village Chief had reincarnated as Dawn’s cat!
Suddenly, the room vanished, and we all flipped back about three hundred years, to an Indian Village, somewhere in North America. Dawn shape shifts into an Indian Medicine Man, named “Grey Wolf.” I became “Running Dear” his apprentice and Smokey, the cat, the Tribal Chief.
“What did I do?” I ask again.
Smokey, originally the Tribal Chief telepathically communicates a message across to Grey Wolf, who is now a Native American Indian Medicine Man dressed in skins, wearing the pelt of a small grey wolf on the top of his head.
“You committed adultery.”
“I see you, my brother.” I don’t recognise the sound of my voice. My body had changed into that of a Native American young Indian woman, with long, thick, black hair parted in the middle and plaited down each side.
“I beg of you, please forgive me, and please forgive me, my teacher. Tell me what happened”, I pleaded with Grey Wolf.
“Your birth was predicted three years before the event, and although I was getting on in years, I waited patiently for your arrival. I spent years in preparation, saving and recording secrets, growing and drying the herbs you would need. The land was arid. Deep chasms and gorges gouged their way through the earth. We survived by cultivating small garden plots of corn, squash and beans. The tribe was experiencing great hardship because of the drought and diminishing buffalo herds, and I was concerned that I would die before my knowledge was passed on. The day of your birth, there were great celebrations in the tribe, because the stars had revealed that a very old soul had been born, who would bring great wisdom and healing to the tribe. You were destined to be a great master of ecstasy. As soon as you could walk, I took you into my tepee and began to teach you the ways of the shaman.”
As he spoke, I remembered how, before my birth into that tribe, I had prepared for many lifetimes to do this work. I had brought with me gifts of prophesy, lucid dreaming, healing, divination, the ability to enter a trance state at will and strong links with the Spirit World. To be singled out as Grey Wolf’s apprentice, was the greatest honour the Tribe could bestow on me. I respected my teacher and worshipped the ground that he walked on.
While all this was happening, my friend, Lucille, who sat watching, had also changed into a young Indian maiden, named “Running Water.” She was my older sister, and her job was to commune with the nature spirits and gather water for the people. We were people of peace and abhorred violence.
As the memories flooded back, I also recalled having and younger sister, Little Dove, and a brother, named Rising Sun, in that incarnation. Rising Sun and I were very close. He had a white wolf as a pet and was very much a free spirit, roaming the countryside and never staying in one place very long.
Only a few years separated Little Dove and myself, and she was always jealous because, I was the “Chosen One.” She had to do all the cooking and cleaning and menial work while I could study with Grey Wolf. She was filled with jealousy and resentment because I got all the attention and that I was forever away on long trips.
All the time this scene was being re-enacted, in the present time, I was experiencing incredible surges of power. It was as though lightning constantly pulsed through my body which struggling to cope with all the knowledge being reactivated at a cellular level.
The story of Running Deer continued to play itself out. As the day of my final initiation drew nearer, tribes gathered from all over the continent, they came from near and far. This was the day I had waited for, for so many incarnations.
Everyone loved and respected me. I was a woman of great power, great knowledge, and great love, who could foretell the future and climate changes from the stars. No animal feared me, and I communicated with nature with the greatest of ease.
I had passed all my initiations and my final initiation was to resist sexual temptation before being allowed to qualify. Grey Wolf had warned me that should I ever lie with a man, my powers would be diminished, my psychic abilities stunted, and my healing abilities affected.
In the same village, lived a very attractive man called ‘Great Steer’. Tall, bronzed, well built, with finely chiselled features, and piercing black eyes, he was betrothed to another. Great Steer was one of the best hunters in the village. He was forever watching me and in very subtle ways, which flattered me. Only 17, I was naïve and impressionable. I had a great spiritual love for Grey Wolf, and he warned me that, soon Great Steer would begin to give me gifts and make me promises.
The going was tough because the last initiations were the worst. My skin was pierced with hooks, I had to fast and take many journeys to the lower world. I had to be the strongest and the path was very lonely. Although very vulnerable at the time, I managed to resist Great Steer’s advances. My calling was stronger than my desire! The more I resisted him, the more determined he became to win my favour, until finally weakened and exhausted by my initiations, I relented, and we became lovers.
I confided in Little Dove about Great Steer and told her we had become lovers. Jealousy prevailed and with great relish, she recounted my story to my father and the village elders.
A tribal council was called, and I was summoned to attend. Many witnesses were called to testify but could not find fault with me. They all described how Great Steer constantly harassed me with sexual advances and how time and time again I demanded that he leave me alone. As one after the other, the people testified my innocence and the people became more and more enraged towards Great Steer. He was taken out and whipped and because I had broken my vow of celibacy, and my powers contaminated, I was cast into exile. Someone else took over the duties as medicine woman to the tribe, but it was not the same. Shortly thereafter Grey Wolf died of a broken heart. All these events resulted in great soul loss for me in that incarnation, and because those soul parts had never been reclaimed, a time loop had formed between that life and this, when history repeated itself, in an almost identical sequence of events.
By now I was exhausted from all the crying, but the pain in my shoulder had vanished. Dawn and Lucille put me to bed and left the room, but the enchantment continued all night. As I fell asleep and began to dream, slowly the room filled with light. One by one, Running Water, my sister, brings me my family; Little Dove my younger sister, and Rising Sun my brother. I also embraced two younger brothers. Somehow, I felt like a very old medicine woman. Holograms of Running Water and Grey Wolf remained in my room all night. They showed me how to reactivate my shamanic knowledge; reminded me about the importance of ritual, and of healing the soul. Running Water opens her hands and a golden butterfly appears, as it flies away, it dissolves into gold dust power. My room remained filled with people from my village all night. We sat in a tepee, smoked a peace pipe, talked and danced. Forgiven, my final initiation was granted to me.
I woke up the next morning, feeling calm, and refreshed knowing that all the facets of my soul, lost through grief in that incarnation, had been returned. I was now whole and complete.
This experience, re-kindled and I began conducting workshops on Shamanism. I blended them with African traditions, drumming, dancing, ritual and ceremony. I was constantly amazed how people who had never touched a drum in their lives, were quickly able to enthusiastically beat out a pulse, and rhythmically dance away their inhibitions. It did not matter to which culture they belonged; the memories of Shamanism still ran richly in their blood; just waiting to be reawakened. People delighted in performing rituals and ceremonies, as though their souls hungered for something ancient and spiritual. Something that the West could not provide; something that had been lost in intellectual and professional circles; the rituals and ceremonies took away their feelings of isolation, gave them back their power, and enriched their personal lives.
Shamanism in all its forms has profound truths. It is possible that we have been brought together at this time because we have profound truths to share and a crucial role to play in saving the planet.
Toward that end, I offer the wisdom of the African ancestors; all the wisdom I have brought forward from previous incarnations, everything I have learnt in this life, and the richness of the encounters I have had with the indigenous people of Africa.
Epilogue: I have also reconnected with Rising Son my brother, and Little Dove my sister, in this incarnation. That however, is another story yet to be told.
©Katharine Lee Kruger – Extract from ‘Activate Your Inner Shaman’, on-line course on www.katharinelee.co.za.
December 27, 2019
Contact Katharine Lee Kruger-Kruger on katharine@mweb.co.za to find out more. - www.katharinelee.co.za
2 February 1998. It’s late at night and I’m dancing, barefoot around a log fire in the Namib Desert. Last week, I was involved in a “cloak and dagger” operation, working on a Police Investigation, this week; I am a free spirit moving rhythmically to the sound of Alex’s resonant drumming. Overhead, billions of glittering stars pulsate in unison as Hein, Britt and Edna join me to experience the steady rhythm of the Desert’s Heartbeat and as I rock my body to and fro, I feel the sorrow lodged in my heart centre begin to melt away.
When Andrea Stauch invited me to visit Namibia, nothing could have prepared me for the impact that Namibia would have on me, mentally, spiritually, emotionally and physically. The Namib Desert is the world’s oldest and perhaps most fascinating desert, a strange silent, empty, hauntingly beautiful wasteland of shifting dunes, of hard, flat plains and rarely flowing rivers with sandy beds. Egypt pales in comparison to this awesome splendour. The ghosts of yesterday linger here in a breath-taking collection of mystical spaces and nowhere else in the world, is a sense of individual destiny and immortality so present.
In Nordic Mythology, “Asgard” means “the upper place where the God’s live”. Managed and owned by Andrea Stauch and Edna Will, this charming guest house in Walvis Bay welcomed me with open arms. I think the most memorable experience I had in Walvis Bay, was the “Dolphin Cruise”. The brochure says, “Watch the Dolphins, Seals and a variety of Bird Life, Walvis Bay Harbour, Bird Island, Russian Trawlers, Pelican Point and Walvis Bay Lagoon”. Now my idea of a “safe” ocean cruise is a ship the size of the Titanic. When I saw the size of the launch however, a thousand vultures began to beat their wings wildly in my chest. Quaking with fear, I stepped off the harbour wall into the rocking, swaying belly of the boat. I must have been a slave, chained to the oars, in the bowels of a ship in a previous life, because as the launch pulled away, I was convinced that I was about to breathe my last. I had forgotten my fear of the ocean and believe me, it was the most spiritual experience of my life - I have never prayed as hard as I did that day. A trip on the ocean for me does much to strengthen my connection with the Almighty.
Jokes aside however, I shall never forget the exhilaration of the launch cutting cleanly through the water, while hundreds of pink flamingos escorted us out to sea. The sight of dozens of dolphins frolicking around the launch and “Big Daddy” seal coming on board for his breakfast. Later that day, when I lay down to rest, it still felt as though my bed was still rocking and swaying and I had to laugh at myself, when I realised, I was holding onto the mattress trying to steady the bed.
Andrea, Elsa and myself visited the Lunar Landscape later that week. As I gazed upon the huge, barren, stark, endless range of mountains, carved out of the surrounding desert, I sensed that it wasn’t always like this. At one time, it was a tropical paradise until one night, a huge meteor crashed its fiery furnace into mother earth, burning, clawing, ripping her apart as it ploughed its way through her belly, leaving a burnt trail of devastation behind. This powerful site simply, commands you to be quiet as you contemplate the mysterious landscape. Perhaps it’s true that the Temples of the Angels are buried here for I was dumb struck for hours afterwards trying to “digest” the powerful atmosphere generated there.
A few days later the phone rang at 4.20a.m. “Time to go”, said Andrea as I fought my way back from the world of dreams. Chris de Villiers of Inshore Safari’s was taking us out into the desert to watch the sun rise. It was cold and pitch dark outside. I muttered to myself, “Maybe I’m getting too old for this kind of thing” as I groped my way through the darkness to the white Venture waiting outside.
The Venture’s head lights probed the awesome darkness of the early dawn as Shaun, Elsa, Alex, Britt, Chris, Samantha and I, journeyed outwards towards Rooibank, the original home of the Topnaars. This Ethnic Group of people belong to the Nama, who for their part, belong to the Khoi-Khoi race and these are among the oldest inhabitants of Namibia. Sadly, these people live under poverty-stricken conditions and are in danger of becoming extinct.
For days now, we had been exploring Namibia’s sacred sites and as the molten sun rose over the desert dunes, a deep, purple aura filled the sky and everyone in the party saw it. Even the sand beneath our feet seemed to come to life as the rising sun gently caressed it into wakefulness. The indigenous healers of Africa believe that Namib Desert sand is holy, that it has powerful healing qualities and as we stood, gazing at the sunrise, we could feel a healing sensation flow into the soles of our feet.
A week later, Alex and Britt took me camping at Spitzkoppe, the Namibian “Matterhorn”, a stark range of sharp pointed, smoothly polished, mountain peaks, north east of Swakopmund. Early man found refuge from the elements here and so did I. The air was so soft and clean that I could smell the different exquisite fragrances coming off every tree, shrub and flower. You need time to “tune” into the atmosphere of this place, to hear the symphony of birds singing, flies buzzing, wind blowing and the gentle hum of insects as they scurry through the desert. If you have lost your soul, this is the place to find it.
As I sat in the amazing silence, I came to the realisation that only people who have lost loved ones can truly appreciate the excruciating emotional pain that feels like a huge black crater where the heart should be. This gnawing pain has no concept of time, so even if our loved ones passed away many years ago, the sorrow lives on. We can read all the books in the world, go for counselling, listen to the advice of others, but the rawness and sense of deep personal loss stalks us wherever we go. In my case keeping myself busy, travelling and communing deeply with nature helped me to handle and hide my sadness from others.
We pitched our tent inside a cave that night. Our protection against snakes, lizards, insects and the odd leopard that might decide to pay us a visit while we slept. Supper was cooked in a pan over a blazing, red, hot open fire while a billion luminous stars kept watch outside. Nature is a great healer and in the profound silence of the starlit desert I found a measure of peace for the throbbing rawness of my soul.
In the deepening silence of the sacred stillness that surrounded us, I also realised that when the work of life is done, Death will come, and like a friend, will cut the cord that binds a human boat to earth, so that it may sail on to smoother seas.
It is human nature to become totally engulfed by one’s problems, and like myself, not everyone is able to see with their inner eyes the greater scheme of things. All the losses in the family and the various challenges I had to face over the years made me realise that nothing external could ever guarantee me happiness and peace of mind.
We all long to find a City of Gold, where we can fill our souls with fragrance, our hearts with secrets, our pockets with gold and rubies, and our ears with music, and our eyes with beauty and live happily ever after with the person of our dreams. But earthly possessions and relationships like sand, can slip through our fingers in an instant. Nothing lasts forever and so we must treasure the exquisite sweetness of every moment of happiness. Like a good wine, the good times in life, need to be slowly sipped and savoured, so that they can live in our hearts forever.
Loss can take the form of children leaving home, serious illness, divorce, retrenchment, the break-up of a relationship, financial ruin and so on. In times of great loss, the crisis occurs when the Outer fails and we have not yet discovered the power of the Inner.
We will do anything to avoid pain, yet pain though harsh can guide us to find our personal Golden City within, just waiting to be discovered. After all, the body is purely a temporary vault for the safekeeping of a beautiful soul that lies undiscovered inside. When we attempt to separate the body from the spirit, or the spirit from the body, we move away from the real meaning of who we truly are. Things that people do, things that people say, events that happen to us do warp the way we perceive ourselves and the way we react to life. Through the pain of loss, however, we can discover who we really are and eventually see, hear and touch a universe that sits right inside our hearts.
Katharine Lee Kruger ©
For further information contact Katharine@mweb.co.za
Katharine Lee Kruger ©
For further information contact Katharine@mweb.co.za - www.katharinelee.co.za
www.voanews.com/content/soul-retrieving-shaman-on-the-side-of-the-angels-/1922237.html
The article has been written as follows:
JOHANNESBURG, SOUTH AFRICA — As an 18 year old nurse, Katharine Lee Kruger, now 67, started “living it up, smoking and drinking and partying,” and the previously “naïve Christian girl who wanted to serve God with all her being,” became an atheist.
“I had lived in a very sheltered environment. Suddenly I was ejected into this harsh world of pain and suffering. I just could not reconcile a God of love with seeing little babies dying of cancer, innocent people mutilated in car accidents, and all the atrocities,” she explained.
One night she returned to her parent’s home in Johannesburg.
“They were having a séance. The lights went off and everybody started singing hymns and praying,” she remembered. “I thought, ‘This is great!’”
But instead of being “titillated by spooks” and “tables jumping around the room,” something then occurred to transform Lee’s life.
“I felt this incredible power and love overshadow me. I had no control over my body. I felt my body get up out of the chair. Some force moved me across the room to where my mom was sitting. I did not know at the time that she had a bad migraine headache. I felt my hands being placed on her head and this strange energy pulsating through my body, this love, into my mother.
“She’d been plagued with very bad migraines all her life. And she said when my hands were laid on her head the power working through me had healed her instantly. And she never had a migraine after that (ever again).”
For decades Lee worked as a spiritual healer, healing people by placing her hands on them. She was also clairvoyant, possessing the ability to “perceive” events before they happened.
Past life as North American Indian
Another significant step on Lee’s path to “spiritual awakening” happened about 15 years ago. While visiting the coastal city of Port Elizabeth, an “inexplicable force” pulled her to Hogsback, a town in the mountains of the Eastern Cape region.
“A friend and I, Mary, booked into a guesthouse there. We were having supper and as I put the last spoon of food into my mouth, it was as though a bolt of lightning hit me, and the room began to spin. I was in great pain,” Lee recalled.
She retreated to her room, where she was joined by the concerned owner of the lodge – a woman named Dawn – who began to massage her sore shoulder.
“As she did that, I started to sob, and I kept telling her: ‘I am so sorry; please forgive me.’ But I’d never met her before! Then spontaneously we all regressed to a previous life, where we’d lived together in various roles in the same (ancient) Native American (Indian) settlement.
“Dawn transformed into Grey Wolf – my teacher in a Native American incarnation, and she had the pelt of a grey wolf on her head. And Mary changed into the tribe’s water gatherer.
“I said to Dawn: ‘What did I do; what did I do?’ And she said to me: ‘The chief says you broke your vow of celibacy.’
“On that journey into the past village elders told me from the day I was born in that incarnation, I had been chosen to become the village’s medicine woman, or shaman. In my late teens I had a final initiation to go when I fell in love with someone and lost my virginity (tribal law dictated that shaman’s remain virgins). Because of that I was cast out of the village and never fulfilled my role to heal the people of the village.”
Traumatic soul loss
Lee said on her regression into her past life she “relived” all the shamanic rituals she’d experienced as a North American Indian many centuries ago.
“All my different gifts were once again revitalized and came back to life and I was reenergized and my vibrations were heightened, and I suddenly recalled all the shamanic things I had been taught how to do.”
Within a matter of minutes, Lee was a shaman.
“A shaman has the ability to leave their body at will and (their soul) journeys into the upper, the middle or the lower worlds, in search of the lost aspect of a person’s soul, to find it, to heal it, to retrieve it, to bring it back and to reintegrate it back into the person who’s suffering from soul loss,” she told VOA.
Explaining “soul loss,” Lee said some people endure experiences that are “far too traumatic to handle, and so an aspect of the soul goes into hiding. An example would be someone who’s been sexually abused as a child, or someone who’s been the victim of a terrible crime, or someone who’s made a big mistake in the past that’s haunted the person his or her whole life, someone’s parent might have committed suicide…”
Such a traumatized person, she said, typically feels loss of identity, depression, insomnia and “strange symptoms for which there’s no medical cure.”
The only cure, Lee maintained, lies buried deep in a person’s past – or even in a person’s past life, as far back as many thousands of years ago.
The shamanic journey
To allow her or her client’s soul to transcend the present physical world and to journey spiritually into the past, she sits alongside them and links with them “mentally and physically.”
Lee emphasized: “If I pick up that they’ve suffered great trauma in the past, I journey on their behalf.”
She plays a CD of music containing highly rhythmic drumming, and instruments such as rattles and didgeridoos.
“It helps to get you into a trance state, in order to journey for that person… or to help them achieve a different state of consciousness, an altered state of awareness…”
During this trance, Lee experiences “sensations” and “flashes” that allow her to see into a person’s past, including into previous lives that the person’s soul might have lived.
“When I move into an altered state of consciousness and my soul leaves my body, I move along that person’s timeline in the past, searching for the person’s past soul,” she explained.
On a shamanic journey, several “compassionate allies” guide her to retrieve the damaged parts of people’s souls.
“They can take the form of various spirit helpers, which come from God. So it could be guardian angels, it could be (deceased) loved ones in spirit who still care very much about the person you’re dealing with. It could be that person’s guardian angel who’s been with them from birth. It could be legions of angels, depending on where that soul has landed up.”
Lee continued that on particularly difficult journeys, with lots of trauma involved and with the possibility of her soul being confronted by evil forces, she invokes the “highest of the most high” and assorted “ascended masters” for protection.
“We’re talking about Jesus, we’re talking about Buddha, we’re talking about Muhammad; we’re talking about the Virgin Mary. We’re talking about all the masters that the different religions know and serve… That’s quite a strong force to have backing you,” Lee stated, smiling.
She added that when she does this, her clients describe feeling hands on their bodies, “hands of healing, hands of love, as though they’re just surrounded by this incredible love that holds them, that cradles them, that works on them throughout the session.”
Trapped soul
Lee’s been on plenty of “amazing” shamanic journeys, including one with a man who was suffering severely from asthma.
“Our souls journeyed down into a cave, and we seemed to be walking forever along underground tunnels, trying to find the lost aspect of his soul. And because the journey went on forever I realized that this must have happened a long, long time ago.
“We kept on moving back, back in time. Eventually, I heard a faint voice calling: ‘I’m here, I’m here.’ We came to an opening in the ground, like a well. And as we looked over we could see him as a young boy, lying trapped under a pile of stones.
“My guides and I really struggled to free that part of his soul, to bring him up to the surface, to encourage him to breathe…”
“Eventually we brought him up to a safe place where other shamanic healers were gathered. There we performed a healing and a reintegration of soul, where I blew the healed aspect back into his heart center and his crown (brain) center.
“It came out on that journey that in a previous life he as a child had fallen into a well and had died through drowning, and nobody had ever found him. And this person explained that in this life he always suffered from claustrophobia (and asthma), and had a terrible fear of water and would never go swimming.”
However, said Lee, after the soul retrieval session the man never again suffered from asthma and claustrophobia, and began to swim.
“So the trauma he had suffered in a past life was trapped in his soul’s memory bank and had negative consequences on his present life,” she said.
Abortion trauma
A woman consulted Lee, severely depressed after having endured the deaths of many close relatives in her life.
“We both thought that’s where her soul loss occurred. But it actually had nothing to do with that,” said Lee.
“When I started to journey for her, I saw what looked like a long rope. I followed this rope, which began to look more and more like an umbilical cord. I followed it until I got to a young lady, holding a little baby and rocking it. I recognized that this baby was the part of this woman’s soul that was missing, so I reintegrated it back into her.”
Then she told her client what she’d seen on the journey.
“This particular lady was well into her 50s, and she said: ‘Good grief.’ (She told me that) early in her 20s she fell pregnant. She had very, very high blood pressure and in order to save her life, they had to terminate the pregnancy, and she never fell pregnant again. So she grieved for that baby all her life, without realizing that she was experiencing soul loss as a result of that.”
Soul travels to heaven
Sometimes, said Lee, her soul travels to what she called the “Upper World.”
“A child may have been severely abused. And during that time an aspect of soul may have decided they would far rather go and live in the Upper World. That’s the world of angels, where everything is beautiful and perfect; some people call it heaven.”
She continued: “It’s more about feeling, than anything else. It really is a beautiful, special place where one feels this amazing peace, safety and serenity.”
When her soul is in the Upper World, said Lee, the atmosphere in her “healing room” changes dramatically.
“It’s almost a celestial feeling and (the clients’) features change… It’s just absolutely awesome,” she commented.
Lee added that it’s usually a “huge battle” to persuade the relevant part of the soul to return to the real and present world.
“A lot of them, understandably, don’t want to come back from a place of perfection.”
Satanic danger
Lee stressed that soul retrieval is not a game played by “crackpot pseudo spiritualists.”
“You have to know what you’re doing when you do this work. Sometimes the work can be very dangerous, depending on where that soul has gone – because souls can be stolen.”
She explained: “Unfortunately, I sometimes come across clients who have been involved in Satanism. I can see it and know it and feel it immediately, without them saying a word about it.
“Because if you’re a clairvoyant, and a (spiritual) healer, the minute someone (who’s a Satanist) walks through the door, it’s like they’re covered by a black cloud of (evil) energy, and you can feel the energy as they approach. If they phone you, you can hear it in their voice. And you know if you want to get involved (with them) or you don’t.”
The Satanists want Lee to retrieve and heal the parts of their souls that they’ve surrendered to Satan. For her, that involves a transcendental journey of her soul into the Lower World – otherwise known as hell.
“And you need to ask yourself if you’re strong enough spiritually to do a soul retrieval for that person, because there’s danger involved. There is physical danger in that your soul might get lost. Your soul might be taken (by Satan) in your attempt to retrieve that (corrupted aspect of) soul,” she said.
But Lee emphasized that this is rare.
“If you know what you’re doing, and you’re an experienced soul retrieval practitioner, and you have the help of the ascended masters and the angels, you will usually overcome the darkness.”
God’s channel
After Lee’s successfully healed and retrieved a damaged, lost part of a client’s soul, she said some client’s feel “nothing.”
“And then three months later they contact me and say: ‘Wow! My whole life has turned around.’ Other people feel an incredible sense of relief, some people feel comforted; some people feel a whole lot lighter. A lot of people tell me that all their guilt feelings are gone. I’d say 85 percent come back with a positive response, that in one way or another their lives have changed for the better,” she maintained.
Lee describes herself as a “channel for God,” and said she’ll continue waging her war as a shaman against evil and soul loss for as long as she’s able. -
For further information contact Katharine@mweb.co.za - www.katharinelee.co.za
The Soul Retrieval Practitioner’s way of doing healing should not be considered an exclusive method of confronting psychological and/or medical problems. It should be viewed as an adjunct to orthodox medical or psychological treatments.
“You cannot find peace until you find all the pieces”
Have you ever wondered why a woman keeps on choosing an abusive husband for a marriage partner? Why a person keeps on having car accidents? Why the same individual keeps on getting hi-jacked? Why certain personalities suffer from pain, anxiety, or stress of unknown origin? The answer could be that they are suffering from ‘soul loss’.
What is ‘soul loss’? As we move through life, many of us encounter situations that are too frightening to deal with, so we block off parts of ourselves, push aside the energy associated with the situation and continue with our lives as best we can. The ‘wounded’ portion of self (the soul) stays trapped in the event, and like a stuck record, continues to play over and over again, resulting in repetitive behaviour patterns, events, or symptoms of ‘soul loss’.
Marie Von Franz, a prominent Jungian analyst wrote, “Soul loss can be observed today as a psychological phenomenon in the everyday lives of the human beings around us. Loss of soul appears in the form of a sudden onset of apathy and listlessness; the joy has gone out of life, initiative is crippled, one feels empty, everything seems pointless”.
Unable to communicate verbally, these ‘wounded fragments of soul’ work through the subconscious mind, and the person feels unable to get on with their life’s work, is unable to focus or to concentrate, feels ‘emotionally dead’, ‘spaced out’ and ‘not really present’. Other symptoms include severe depression, grief and an all encompassing feeling of fear and different kinds of psychosomatic, emotional and physical illnesses that do not seem to respond to any kind of conventional treatment.
People suffering from ‘soul loss’ need ‘soul retrieval’. They need a soul retrieval practitioner, a person who is able to journey, in an altered state of awareness, into non-ordinary realities on their behalf to retrieve their soul fragments, still trapped in the trauma of past events. This is done with the help of their power animal, a specialised animal spirit guide that will be in charge of the journey to find and heal the origin of the problem.
The beauty of soul retrieval is that the person suffering from soul loss does not have to revisit the past, or know the origin of the problem. It is also a safer and gentler alternative to Past Life Regression in that, if the problem is linked to a previous life, the client does not need to be regressed and to re-live the trauma associated with a previous incarnation, in order to be healed. The experienced Soul Retrieval Practitioner is able to retrieve, and reintegrate that soul fragment while the client is in a deep state of relaxation.
The wounded aspects of self (soul fragments) are retrieved over a period of time, healed, re-integrated and then brought back to the present, by blowing the energy of the fragmented parts back into the heart or crown centre. It is the soul retrieval practitioner’s duty to restore wholeness.
Depending on the severity of the problem, soul retrieval may require one or more sessions, until such time as all the retrieved soul parts have been gently re-integrated. Benefits include feeling more focused and orderly, feeling more present, more alive, lighter, being able to set boundaries, increased feelings of self-worth, people feel more in touch with their feelings, feel more powerful as individuals, people feel more energetic, things seem more ‘real’, there is a greater richness of ‘being’ and so on.
Katharine Lee Kruger ©
For further information contact Katharine@mweb.co.za - www.katharinelee.co.za
Extract from ‘Activate Your Inner Shaman’
on-line Course by Katharine Lee Kruger (Krῢger)
Date: 02 Nov 2017
Pivotal to soul retrieval is the concept of Power Animals, Spirit Guides or Angels that will help us to explore beyond the boundaries of our ordinary world. Animals know their way around the wilderness and no matter what place we are exploring, whenever it is new territory we need the help of a guide, either in animal or human form. When it comes to looking for lost facets of ourselves, we may need to undertake several journeys to retrieve and heal those aspects of self, or alternatively to acquire knowledge and wisdom for the future.
So, whether it's the lions that roared in your bedtime stories or the cartoon elephants that flew across your childhood movie screens, lion prides, elephant herds and thousands of other animals, played out against shifting backdrops of savannah, forest, river and mountain, we have always had an intimate connection with the animal kingdom.
South Africa is home to an unparalleled diversity of wildlife. It boasts the world's largest land mammal, the African elephant, as well as the second largest, the White Rhino and the third largest, the Hippopotamus. It's also home to the tallest, Giraffe, the fastest, the Cheetah, and the smallest, the Pygmy Shrew.
The animal kingdom is second nature to South Africans and legends and stories of Africa abound with tales of animals communicating with humans. The idea, therefore, of having an animal spirit as a guide and teacher should not be that difficult to grasp.
In the Native American Tradition your power animal could represent the sum of all the hidden aspects of soul, just longing to find expression in your life. It may even be a lost aspect of soul that has taken on animal form to bring you a powerful message, using symbols and metaphors, as you journey through the inner worlds looking for answers, guidance and healing.
When you call upon your power animal for assistance, you must do so with an absolute spirit of humility and heightened intuition. One cannot just ‘blunder’ into the ‘other world’. Time must be taken to prepare yourself for the journey, by creating ‘sacred space’, not only by preparing yourself mentally and spiritually, but also by preparing the room you will be working from. Your space needs to be clean, quiet, and cleared of all negative vibrations by either; burning incense, lighting candles, or smudging with herbs, the sound of drumming, or rattling, or by simply clapping your hands loudly. Playing shamanic music to prepare for your journey also invites your shamanic helpers to draw near.
Your power animal is here to teach you about yourself, about the wholeness of creation, about being human, and vulnerable. It knows everything there is to know about you, and is there to give you power.
The word ‘power’ means spiritual strength that comes from knowledge, information, wisdom, spirituality and the healing that the animal shares with you. By forging an intimate connection with your power animal, and by blending completely with its spiritual essence, you can travel into lower, middle and upper worlds, to retrieve aspects of self, and to acquire knowledge and healing for self and others.
Differences between a Power Animal and a Totem Animal
A totem animal is one that is by a family clan or group the picture of which appears on the wraps they tie around their lower body. The baboon is the totem animal of the Baklaro tribe of the Zeerust area in the North-West Province of South Africa. If a member of that tribe dreams about a baboon, it means that they will be shielded from all harm and that they will be successful. In his book “Inland Tribes of Southern Africa”, Dr Peter Becker talks about the Kwena of Moletji and says that groups of people who recognise a common totem usually have set standards to uphold. “They are expected to stand together in times of misfortune, always to be hospitable and kind to each other, and when journeying in a group to far-off places, to share their provisions. Until recent times, the killing and eating of totem animals was a taboo. Even touching totem animals could provoke the ancestral spirits to retribution”.
A second kind of totem animal is those adopted by sports teams and organisations e.g. The South African Springbok Rugby Team, The Blue Bulls Rugby Team, the Lions, which is a Charity Organisation in South Africa.
Messages from the Animal Kingdom
“When an animal or bird shows up to you in an unusual way in your daily life, it definitely has a message to communicate to you from the spirit world.
Watch its behaviour. If it is a white dove, is it bringing you a message of peace? If a crow appears regularly in your garden three times in succession, it could mean that something magical is going to happen in your life”. Animal Spirit Guides - Hay House - © Steven D Farmer Phd. 2006
Sometimes an animal may even appear to you in a dream. Therefore, it is essential that you have a copy of “Animal Spirit Guides” by Steven D. Farmer, to interpret the messages that come through in this manner.
For example: I dreamt my son, Gareth and his wife Renee were riding on the back of an elephant, which symbolises strength and invincibility. The elephant walked into a wooden shed which collapsed, and I rushed round the back to look for them, only to see my son Gareth, being carried out on a stretcher by two paramedics. He looked up at me and said, “Don’t worry mom, I am O.K.”
I phoned my son and told him about my dream. Two days later he phoned, to say that he and Renee had been involved in a car accident, the car was a write off, but neither of them had been injured.
The elephant in my dream symbolised that, even though the shed (the car) would be destroyed, because he, the elephant, was invincible, no harm would come to my son and daughter-in-law.
How your Power Animal will communicate: Animal Spirit Guides - Hay House - © Steven D Farmer Phd. 2006
Meeting your Power Animal
Our natural connection to the animal kingdom stems from babyhood, when our parents bought us teddy bears, pandas, rabbits, and as children we begged them to allow us to have pets. Go into any shopping centre and you will see animal ornaments, pictures, jewellery and fabric on sale.
Having an animal spirit companion is essential if you are to enter the Shamanic Dreamtime. With an animal companion, you will not lose your way through the dreamlike realms of spirit, for animals never lose their way through the realms of nature, and even play the same role as a guide dog would do for showing a blind person the way.
Meeting your Power Animal
There are different ways of doing this.
To be able to meet your Power Animal the first step is to find an entry point to the Lower World, because the distinctive feature of Shamanism is the ‘journey of the soul’. The shaman has the ability to ‘pass through invisible doorways’, and to visit other dimensions of consciousness with the greatest of ease.
Katharine Lee Kruger ©
For further information contact Katharine@mweb.co.za - www.katharinelee.co.za
Date: 27 Sept 2016
I think I died last night. I remember doctors in the spirit world fighting to put me back into my body, which lacked all sensation. I remember the feeling slowly coming back into my arms and legs, suddenly becoming aware of my body again, and then, waking up in bed. I was furious. For months I had been dreaming, that I was lost, and could not find my way home. That my mobile was broken. That I had lost all the phone numbers of my loved ones in spirit. That there was an important hierarchy of people, that I reported to, who did not mind if I took a couple of days off work, and did not tell them why I had been absent.
Last night, everything became so clear. I was riding a bicycle, going uphill. Suddenly I found myself on a sandy road, leading up to a bridge. On the other side of the river, was the most beautiful forest, filled with translucent white flowers. Words cannot describe the wondrous scenes of nature that suddenly started unfolding around me. I was free of the physical, totally submerged in the beauty of my surroundings. There simply are no pictures to describe what I saw.
Feeling that I had to go back to work, I turned and started cycling back on along the sandy road. As I did so, different stunning scenes of glimpses of other worlds unfolded on either side of the road. Each one filled with glorious colours and nature so pure and abundant that it was beyond all human comprehension. All the beauty of earth cannot compare with what was revealed to me. If this was heaven, how could I deny people the gift of dying?
My bike started going faster and faster downhill. Everything around changed into a kaleidoscope of different shades of iridescent blue. Like breaking through the sound barrier, the colours changed from pale to deeper blue, flashing past me, as I neared the bottom of the hill.
Then, I was in a kind of hospital, where spirit doctors were discussing me, and fighting to save my life physically. I can still hear their voices, congratulating each other when this was done.
I woke up. My room felt like a prison. Lying quietly trying to integrate the whole experience, I realised that this planet is still very young in terms of evolution. Our technology is antiquated in terms of other dimensions. It is as though we are encapsulated in an oxygen tank, swimming blindly underwater, each of us with a life line of oxygen to sustain us. When our time comes, the life support is terminated, and we float to the surface to another dimension. A dimension so glorious, so infinite. Where we are one with all that is beautiful, good, loving and uncomplicated.
I realise now, that our entire life, is not even a day, in the vaster scheme of things. What we be-ride ourselves for, just does not matter on the other side. That there is a God working through a group of advanced souls (angels) watching this planet evolve. When necessary, they gently correct the times and tides of every single life and even the planet.
Confined by our bodies, highly sentient, sensitive beings, in dullness of earth’s vibrations, we look for relief. This can take the form of food, sex, drugs, alcohol, power, through acquiring money, and the eternal quest to find love. But all of these only give temporary relief. Before long, we are on to the next thing – in fact – anything to relieve the monotony of a magnificent soul, being trapped in a limiting, physical body.
We place so much emphasis on how the physical should look, how it should behave. It causes endless suffering when it gets sick. Money and relationships come and go, and the soul remains forever restless until finally, it is released from purgatory and allowed to go home.
I still don’t know why we are here. I know that I need to ‘lighten up’. That anything I put in my mouth can change my vibration; too many possessions tie me down; money is a bartering system on this planet and that nothing, absolutely nothing, can compare with the beauty, infinite love and peace that awaits us.
Katharine Lee Kruger ©
For further information contact Katharine@mweb.co.za - www.katharinelee.co.za
Date: 11 April 2016
In the black culture of Africa you cannot become a traditional healer, until you have experienced a “call to priesthood”. This is recognized as an illness, the symptoms of which are caused by Ancestral Spirits who wish to possess the future Traditional Healer. It is regarded as a holy calling that comes from God via the Ancestors. In African Culture the ancestors could be the spirits of deceased family members who now wish to continue their healing work through the medium ship of the initiate. The sickness may come at any age, but is most common during adolescence and menopause. When an ancestral spirit possesses someone, the individual becomes ill with a sickness that does not respond to any form of treatment. The onset of the illness is sudden and the person, who has been called, may be present with mental disturbance, emotional turmoil, physical pains in various parts of their body; or the person may become moody, restless, brooding, and nervous, suffer from palpitations, hallucinations, and depression and even have vivid dreams. The ill health may be accompanied with feelings of fatigue and does not respond to any form of treatment.
The initiate (thwasa in the Zulu Culture) may even hear the “voices” of her ancestors calling her and be able to see them clairvoyantly. In the Western culture, this is called a “Spiritual Emergency”. Once the Call to Priesthood is diagnosed, the person may sacrifice a goat, appealing to their ancestors, to release them from the calling. If she does not recover, her only option is to obey the calling by moving into the home of a “isangoma” (traditional healer) to begin her studies as an initiate. She then withdraws from society and undergoes her training, which could be from a minimum of six months to six years or more. Zulu training is rigid and includes abstentions, taboos, rigid observances, daily cleansing rituals and impressive ceremonies. The Initiate is required to work in the home of her teacher, without remuneration, until her schooling is complete. This is to teach her humility first and foremost.
Prior to being exposed to traditional healing she will need a thorough knowledge of herbs, their habitat, preparation and dosage. During this period she will also be taught how to “throw the bones”, an excellent method of diagnosis which was developed long before x-rays and medical tests came into being. This is a bag, containing carefully selected bones of animals and shells from the ocean. Few in number, they accurately represent all aspects of life and are used for diagnostic purposes. To be able to read them, the apprentice is given powerful herbs to sharpen her psychic ability and through drumming and dancing, she learns to connect with her ancestors, who then work through her. Any patient who consults her will test her diagnostic abilities, before she is allowed to treat them. Consultation involves placing a mat on the floor for the patient to sit on, with their legs straight out on the mat facing the healer.
The patient then meditates asking their emotions to guide them. The initiate proceeds by asking the patient to blow into the bag and after that, the bones are thrown onto the mat. By observing the position of the bones and shells and the way they fall, the healer must be able tell the patient all his/her ailments, pausing every now and then to allow the patient to respond. If the patient has some questions regarding his/her life they have the right to ask the healer to explain further until they are satisfied. No money exchanges hands until the patient is satisfied with the diagnosis.
The apprentice will have to undergo several initiations before qualifying as a Traditional Healer. The final graduation is very difficult with tests of physical fitness, endurance and the length of time it takes her to find hidden objects. This will determine the strength of her links with her ancestors. Like medical doctors, the initiate who qualifies as an “isangoma”, will need to develop a reputation in the community. Those who are perceived to have strong powers and influential connections to their ancestors may become enormously influential. Not many initiates succeed however; these people are considered “phupha’d” which means they ‘can only dream and can no longer talk reality’.
Once qualified, the Traditional Healer, normally has a multifaceted role which includes training, knowledge, power and ability to serve in a number of medico religious functions, such as herbalist, seer, ceremonial leader, physician, spiritual leader and psychologist, priest and mystic all rolled up into one.
1 - Zulu . Roger and Pat de La Harpe. Barry Leitch, Sue Derwent. Pub. Struik Publishers 1998.
2 - T/Dr H.B. Zungu. President. Traditional Healers Organisation of South Africa.
© Katharine Lee Kruger
For further information contact Katharine@mweb.co.za - www.katharinelee.co.za
Covid-19 A Survivor’s Tale
By Katharine Lee Kruger Kruger –Author, Inspirational Speaker and Holistic Healer
Friday 12 June 2020. In an ICU, Covid-19 private hospital isolation ward, Johannesburg, imprisoned in a glass cubicle, my soul begs for freedom. Something denied by the grey, lifeless walls beyond, where nurses dressed in protective blue clothing, white plastic aprons, gloves, masks, and plastic face shields, mutely go about their duties. This cold and hostile place has been my home for five days now.
The only sound is that of the patient in the cubicle next door to me, constantly coughing and gasping for breath. Ripped away from civilization, family, friends, and home comforts, I fell asleep in one world, and woke in another. Hugs and kisses are now weapons. Visits by family and friends acts of love. Power, beauty, and money are worthless. That oxygen the only thing worth fighting for.
A sliver of warm sunlight peeps through the small sunroof above. Disconnected from my life-giving IV, all the machines, a blood pressure cuff, I lean against the cold glass of my jail, soaking up the light and warmth. “Gosh,” I think, “We take so much for granted. Freedom, sun, people, water, the sweet taste of fresh air. Having a shower or bath, and a toilet with running water. Being able to come and go as we please."
I have learned so much since being here. That, no matter how hungry or not I am, I will eat anything. Mealtimes are erratic. Food comes in plastic take-away containers from an outside caterer. Portions are tiny. I rarely get what I order and its cold. The weather outside is freezing, the food tasteless, but it does not matter. This is insignificant compared to the Covid-19 Pandemic raging outside, first identified in December 2019 in Wuhan, China.
Shock and Denial
But let us go back to the beginning, to Wednesday 3 June 2020. Enjoying an early cup of aromatic coffee, the ping of my phone alerts me. The text message sends cold shivers up and down my spine. “Dear Lancet Laboratories Patient, kindly note that your COVID 19 test result is **Positive. Kindly contact your healthcare provider for more information.”
“It’s impossible”, I think. “This can’t be happening to me. My only symptoms are a cold, diarrhoea, a scratchy throat, and shortness of breath. “How can I possibly be Covid-19 positive? I wear a mask, practise social distancing, leave my shoes outside after shopping, wash my hands regularly, disinfect everything I buy and sanitize surfaces.” My age, hypertensive, overweight and with a history of stroke I fall into the ‘high-risk’ category. “Don’t panic,” I say to myself. “You started taking immune-boosting supplements from 26 March 2020, the first day of lock-down. It is probably going to be like a mild dose of flu. Nothing to worry about.” Little did I realize what a devastating effect this was to have on my life. Like millions of infected people, I was about to lose my sense of safety, of social connections, of personal freedom. A loss of identity, to miss, to be separated, to feel alone and vulnerable. Only later would I realise how empowering this journey would be.
An advocate of positive thinking, inspirational speaker, and holistic health practitioner, I am being called on to ‘walk’ my talk. My biggest challenge? To control my mind and emotions. Of all illnesses, fear is the principal killer. It starts with worrying about ‘What can go wrong?’, and then gravitates to all the articles we have read. The news, social media and horrible stories about how awful life is on a ventilator, the high death rate overseas. I knew that if I bought into it, it would not be long before would be convinced that I was dying. Sometimes the fear of what the coronavirus can do, is more deadly than the virus itself!
Agitated, I call my doctor. She tells me to isolate. “I will phone you daily to monitor your progress,” she says. “Contact me immediately if any of your symptoms exacerbate.”
Reassured that I can manage at home, I go to bed and continue taking my supplements.
Living in a picturesque retirement village, in Franklin Roosevelt Park, news that I had tested positive spread like wildfire. I was not popular either when all the people I had been in contact with, had to go into isolation for 2 weeks and everyone in the complex be tested!
Monday 8 June 2020. A week since being diagnosed positive with Covid-19. I manage my breathing using a nebuliser and by keeping a humidifier with eucalyptus oil, going in my room. The virus chuckles and turns up the heat. Hot and then cold shivers chase up and down my body. I start to feel hot, extremely hot. My breathing feels like an old steam engine trying to chug up a hill. Terror wraps its cloak around me. I phone my doctor.
Alarmed she says, “Go to a Covid-19 casualty immediately.” My flesh begins to crawl. I try to argue with her, but she is adamant. I call an ambulance.
With a crunch of wheels, we pull up outside a large, impersonal beige container, next to the main entrance of a Covid-19 hospital. Next to it a circular landing pad for emergency helicopters. A chopper is leaving, the deafening roar of its rotors making conversation impossible. Much braver when younger, now so much older, my coping skills are not what they used to be. Under all the bravado, I feel afraid, and vulnerable.
Thanking the male ambulance crew for risking their lives for me, I go inside. Empty, except for a narrow, examination bed, it is bleak with a single light, hanging from the ceiling. It could well be the examination room on a spaceship. I lie down. An androgynous figure dressed completely in loose blue protective clothing, wearing gloves, a mask, goggles, and face shield glides towards me. It is a doctor! I cringe as her gloved hands gently palpate my chest. “Ouch,” I mutter “That is very sore.”
“All your chest muscles are inflamed,” she says.
“Is that why it feels like someone is pushing needles into my lungs and heart area?” I ask.
“Yes,” comes her reply.
“And I thought I was having a heart attack!”
“Muscle pain, often caused by muscle inflammation (myositis)—isn't an uncommon symptom for a viral infection,” she explains. "In general, coronavirus, like other viruses, can cause inflammation of the muscle tissue. We have to take blood to find out if you are developing complications,” she explains. Inserting a syringe into my vein, she draws off what feels like litres of blood, in half a dozen little vials.
Waiting for my results, little did I realize Covid-19 was on a ferocious rampage throughout my body, from my brain to my toes, attacking my lungs, vascular and muscular system with devastating consequences. That its reach could extend to many of my organs, including my heart, kidneys, gut, and brain. That a newly observed tendency to blood clotting, could transform a mild case into a life-threatening emergency.
An icy wind starts blowing. It is dark when the lab results come back. Cold and stiff from four hours of waiting, I ask “Can I go home now?”
“No, sorry you can’t,” comes her reply. “We have to admit you.”
“But why?” I ask.
“Your blood is showing an inclination to clot,” she explains. “With your history of high blood pressure and strokes, you could have a pulmonary embolism.”
We need to admit you, put you on oxygen, do a CT Scan of your chest, and inject you with anticoagulants.”
I groan inwardly. This was the last thing I wanted.
“You will have to wait until visiting hours are over,” she continued. “We have to make sure that no-one is around when we take you to the ward.”
Having arrived at the hospital at 11am, it meant another long wait. I phone my son Gareth and tell him the news. Then with my cellphone’s battery nearly flat, I pass the time practicing mindfulness. A simple meditation technique I teach in my workshops. Paying attention in the present moment, observing my surroundings, thoughts, emotions, and body state, help me to relax. Thinking I was going into a general ward, little did I realize the implications of what was to come.
Gowned and robed, the porters fetch me. The trolley wheels squeaking, we travel along the highly polished floor, of a long-deserted hallway. An eerie silence fills the air. Forced out of my comfort zone, I realise how dependent we are on nurturing human connections. Of having someone around to support us. Confronted with a new situation, I am now being challenged to look to my own resources to comfort and reassure myself. I realise that by now the news of my admission will have reached family and friends. They will not be allowed to visit.
They wheel me into a hastily re-opened, dilapidated wing of the hospital. Talking in hushed tones, shrouded figures greet me in the dimly lit interior. The last thing I expected was to be admitted to ICU. I was nowhere near death’s door, with the ward in a bad state of repair, this was not going to be any kind of holiday.
Anger – Frustration, Anxiety, Irritation, Shame.
Tuesday 9 June 2020. A control-freak imprisoned in a small glass cubicle; it feels like I am in solitary confinement. I cannot go to the bathroom; must ask for a bedpan, water to drink, wait for food to be delivered, no coffee or tea on demand. Trapped in my bed, with a facemask over my oxygen mask, machines monitor my heart rate, pulse, breathing, oxygen intake, blood pressure and pulse. With a drip in one arm, blood pressure cuff on the other, virtually motionless, robbed of my free will and freedom is a new experience. I start feeling agitated and irritable. With no television or radio to distract me, I am confronted with myself. With no clock to orientate me, time ceases to exist. Normally, a kind and easy-going person, one moment I am joking with the nurses, the next I am crying uncontrollably. Depression comes, bites me in the butt, and then leaves again. Emotional swings are par for the course when it comes to Covid-19. The virus affects us mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Insatiable, it wreaks havoc at all levels of our being.”
Having originally trained as a nurse, I tend to freak out when in my opinion, nursing is not up to standard. I constantly remind myself that staff are risking their lives to nurse me, and they too have challenges to deal with. With protective clothing expensive, and in short supply, nurses work six-hourly shifts, during which they are not allowed to eat, drink, or go to the toilet. If they leave ICU they have to strip, shower, and don fresh protective clothing. An expensive exercise. Add to this a major hinderance having to practice social distancing and communicate through masks.
Anxious to go home, I ask “When am I going for my chest CT Scan please?”
“X-Ray Department is madly busy,” comes the reply. “We have to make sure no one else is around before we take you down, so it will probably be between twelve and 1a.m. this evening.”
Allergic to iodine, they start pumping me full of cortisone. The ward is quiet, except for the hissing, thumping sound of a ventilator nearby. I realise that, not knowing what is ahead, I must give myself over to the process, letting go of control. To not resist the situation, but work with it, discovering what it offers me.
The porter fetches me at 1am. The journey down to the X-Ray department is eerie. Not a sound or a soul in sight. Although I have had iodine after taking cortisone before, there is always that stressful moment when they open the canister, allowing the iodine to flow into my arm. “Why is it that I am afraid of dying?” I think. “Of leaving the known for the unknown.” A firm believer in life after death, this enigma constantly puzzles me.
Depression and Detachment – Overwhelmed
Wednesday 10 June 2020. I wake up sobbing uncontrollably. I am afraid of infecting the nurses. Over the loss of identity, freedom, absence of goods and surfaces, lack of automation and routine activities, personal security, love, and of touch. Multiple losses, nearly overwhelming experienced by everyone on earth. A collective grief for a life cancelled and seemingly gone forever.
What do the nurses do? Unplug me from all the machines, remove the blood pressure cuff, the IV, tuck me into my bed and let me sleep for a while. Their kindness completely overwhelms and comforts me as do countless messages from my family and Facebook friends. I had no idea that so many people loved and cared for me. Fellow healers rally round sending prayers and healing energy. I experience this like ripples of love, tingling, and warmth enveloping my body.
Thursday 11 June 2020.
The CT scan comes back clear, for which I am profoundly grateful. Had it not been for Covid-19 I would never have had this experience. When we are resistant to change, life will force us to change. Being ejected into a foreign environment honed my survival skills. Knowing that ‘no one would come’ meant that I had to handle this on my own. Sometimes, however, our strength does not come from within, but from the tears we shed. Of admitting that we are vulnerable, and just doing our best to get through each day without trumpets blaring and applause. It can feel like crawling over glass on our elbows, with weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, but live we must.
Friday 12 June 2020. Leaving hospital was like trying to get out of jail. Still Covid-19 positive, no one could fetch me, nor was I allowed to use a cab. I call an ambulance. Security escorts us out of the building into a crisp, star filled night. With strict instructions to go back to hospital immediately, should my condition deteriorate, I go back into isolation for another two weeks at home.
Lack of Energy – Helplessness
Tuesday 16 June 2020. My second day of my fourteen days of isolation at home. I am so fortunate to have a window to look out of. To feed the birds through my window, to be able to wave at people passing by. Lucky that I have a medical aid, the means to buy supplements to boost my immunity, and people to support me. Lucky to have my own toilet, electricity, running water, a computer, phone … the list is endless. My heart goes out to all those battling Covid19 who have none of these things.
Having Covid-19 is like a ride on a donkey cart! I wake up feeling great, then hit a bump, and rush to take a pain killer. My body feels like its being skinned alive, with every single nerve ending throbbing with heat and pain. Thank goodness I do not have a cough, or runny nose, loss of taste or smell! Intermittent serious depression comes and goes again, as do a sore throat, nausea, difficult breathing, diarrhea, and feeling hot and cold again. Pain wracks my body; my chest is tight. I feel desperately ill, exhausted, and weak. Feeling vulnerable, I drop all my defenses and phone fellow healers for assistance.
“Please help me,” I beg. “I just can’t go on!”
They are flabbergasted because people see me as a strong, positive, and independent person. Someone who never gives up, and here I am asking for help.
I go back to bed and feel loving, warm energy enfold me as my friends telepathically connect with me. Hippocrates (460-377BCE) described this healing energy as ‘the heat that oozes out of the hands, a form of energy exchange, whereby the healer stimulates your body to heal itself.’
Friday 19 June 2020. All I accomplished today was to manage to wash my hair and go back to bed. A big step forward. Every few days, friends pop by with food parcels and treats. Others do my shopping for me. Fellow residents knock on my window to see if I am okay, others wave passing by. Some infected people suffer stigma, isolation, and social exclusion. My community however, welcomed me back with open arms. Their love and support helped to speed up my recovery.
Tuesday 23 June. People say that I am the first Covid19 person they have heard about. Not talking about it means that people could be fooled into believing ‘it’s not so bad.’ Insidious, the virus creeps up on the unwary, especially people like me who believed it was a load of hogwash. Folks, it is real, and it is here. From mild to serious, one must manage the symptoms as they arise.
I would like to put people's minds at rest. Some get Covid-19 so mildly, they don't even know they have it. Most people nurse themselves at home and make a full recovery. Once diagnosed, unless you are in severe respiratory distress, you DO NOT immediately go onto a ventilator. I managed well with oxygen, and my breathing is gradually improving. Not everyone gets all the symptoms!
Return to Meaningful Life – Empowerment, security, self-esteem, meaning.
Wednesday 24 June 2020. Recovery from COVID19 takes baby steps too. Managed to wash the dishes today and tidy up a bit. Having walked the path so many times after major health and other setbacks, I know the drill. Do what you can when you can. Don't fight with yourself. Ask for help. One little task at a time. Then rest, before you try again. So, what if it takes an hour to wash the kitchen floor? Do it in stages like everything else, and thank God for all your blessings, of which I have many.
Acceptance
Saturday 28 August 2020. Nearly 3 months later, my body is doing an excellent job of healing itself. I have lived through hand tremors, manage gastrointestinal and nausea problems and extreme fatigue. My memory and walking have improved as has my breathing. Tens of thousands of people have similar stories of unrelenting and unpredictable symptoms that surface daily. Not knowing which symptom will present itself each day, is like having a guest in the house. I organise my life around it. Covid-19 has taught me the importance of freedom, sun, people, water, and the sweet taste of fresh air. That when Life throws us a curved ball, we must catch it, and draw on knowledge gained from previous experiences to cope. That emotional mood swings are par for the course. That identity, home comforts, automation, routine activities, personal security, love, family, and friends provide a foundation for living. That forced change can deepen appreciation and that recovery takes time. Ends/…
©Copyright Katharine Lee Kruger-Kruger 8/7/2020 All Rights Reserved