Soul Retrieval – Personal Experience
Soul Retrieval 11/8/15
Dark Moon ritual. Time for healing, a time to seek out the darkest corners, the hidden or forgotten past; time to shine a light and re-open the wound so it can be cleaned and finally healed.
Snake is my favored power animal. He is always with me, and readily comes to my assistance whenever I have need of him. So come snake, here is my arm to coil yourself around. Take me; take me to a lost piece of myself. Find a piece of my soul, which was broken off in fear, pain, trauma, shock or sudden death. Go, find me a piece of my soul that needs to heal from the trauma of disconnection, not belonging . . . Go.
And there it is, twinkling like a dim star, surrounded by mist, my identifying talisman hanging in the center. We approach, snake and I, and it darts off. We approach more slowly, step by step, but it darts off again. I have the sense it is afraid of the snake. I ask snake to hide behind me. I approach again and reach out my hand – “don’t be afraid,” I say. “I am part of you and you are part of me. It is time to come home to be reunited with your soul, the soul you broke away from, my soul. It is safe here now. Will you come with me?”
I am afraid.
I will not hurt you.
You will just leave me.
I promise I will never leave you. You are a part of me and I want to take you home with me, so we can be together again, forever.
But I am broken.
Yes I know, but you will be whole again when you come back with me.
No. No – I am broken – you don’t understand.
Then show me. Help me to understand.
The light grows brighter and my mind is filled with images. A village in what looks like late medieval times begins to take shape before my eyes. The huts are made of sticks and timber, some with cloth tops that are now being removed and stuffed into the wagons. There are many wagons, with wooden wheels being pulled by oxen. Dust is being kicked up in the air. The wagons are full to bursting with all sorts of things; baskets of food, clothing, straw bed rolls, chairs, stools, tables, and tools. There are many people on foot following the wagons. The ground is dirt, with a little grass, an empty goat pen and a couple of cook fires still burning, the smoke trailing up into the afternoon sky.
A little girl is screaming for her Mama. Her hair is dark, her face is dirty, her clothing worn and tattered – she is crying. She is trying to run, but she cannot because there is something wrong with her leg. She drags it on the ground behind her, using a stick to help herself. She looks like maybe 5 years old. My heart is breaking for her.
A woman jumps down from a wagon and walks briskly over to her, I feel momentarily relieved but then I realize the woman looks angry. She yells at the child, No! You are not coming with us. You are nothing but trouble. You are broken. You can’t do anything, no one will ever marry you – we can’t afford to keep you. You’re not coming! The child lunges forward and grabs the dress of her Mother, wailing now to be taken with her.
“Please Mama, take me with you, please, don’t leave me.”
The woman raises her hand and yells “no” just as she backhands the girl across the face so hard that she flies backwards and falls to the ground, unconscious. The little girl awakes, the sun is setting, and everyone is gone. She stands up and finds her stick and begins to walk towards the trail left by the wagons, but as the trail leads into a forest she gets scared and turns around, she goes back to her village.
It takes all her energy to get back. She gathers more wood to put on the fire – she knows how to do that. The fire burns brightly and she says out loud to the emptiness of the forest “Look Mama – I made a fire. I can do that! Look Mama. Mama?” As night falls, the temperature drops, it is frigidly cold. She pulls a scrap of cloth around herself; she found it left behind on the dirt. She curls up by the heat of the flames, falls asleep, and never wakes again.
I tell her I understand. “It’s OK if you are broken,” I tell her. “I love you and I will take you back with me. And I will never leave you, I promise.” She hesitates for a moment. I hold out my crystal and ask her to come inside it so I can take her back with me. After a time, she comes. I hold the crystal tightly, and snake and I travel back to my conscious self.
I place the crystal on my heart and pull her in. The pain and fear rips through me momentarily, like a torrent of time and memory. I tell her, it is OK. I tell myself it’s OK. It is safe here. Look around. It’s good. You are back where you belong. Be calm, you are welcome, you are loved, you will never be thrown away again. You ARE good enough. You are perfect. You are home. You are whole.
I can feel her rising in me as I write this. I can feel the sorrow and fear of watching those wagons leaving, of waking up all alone. I put my hands on my heart and I tell her again: it is OK. It is safe here. You are back where you belong. Be calm, you are welcome, you are loved, you will never be thrown away again. You are good enough. You are perfect. You are home. You are whole. Thank you for coming back to me. And I tell myself: everything is OK. It is safe here. I am here where I belong. Be calm, I am loved, no one
will ever throw me away again. I am good enough. I am perfect. I am whole. I love you.
I will tell her this, as many times as I need, until I can no longer feel her as separate – then we will truly be one. Another part of me, long lost in space and time and memory, has been brought home and healed.
I thank the Goddess and my teachers and my guides and my snake for this healing.
Blessed are the powers of the Dark Moon. And so it is.
I performed this soul retrieval shortly after receiving the diagnosis of arthritis in my hips, more so in the right hip. I was very angry about this. I felt betrayed; I felt it wasn’t fair. I have spent 3 decades working on my health, learning what to eat for my body/mind type through Ayurveda, working out at the gym 3 times a week, practicing martial arts and yoga and meditation and, and, and. WHY! Do I now have arthritis in my right hip?
Two years before this I fell down the stairs in my home and twisted the ligaments in my right knee very badly. I’m a person with very good balance and flexibility. Why / how did I manage to fall down the stairs? Two or three years before that I misjudged the edge of a stepping stone in the back yard – it was covered in snow and I was heading out to the fire pit to perform ritual. I sprained my right ankle. It was painful, swollen and I was unsteady on my feet for a good 2 months or more, before it finally healed. The ankle, the knee and the hip – all on the right side. All attached to a body that is usually very well balanced, flexible and aware of its movement.
This soul retrieval was my healing. This little broken girl left that imprint in my soul, that imprint of “something’s wrong here, with the right side of me, something doesn’t work,I am broken.” And despite all the physical training I have learned and practiced, that imprint manifested itself as injury and finally arthritis. The realization struck me like a lightning flash, a moment or so after I came up out of my journey. I felt the pain in my hip connect to the huddling little girl held newly in my heart.
I still have arthritis. I’m working on my healing. It’s actually better now than it was when I was first diagnosed, and it hasn’t progressed. I’m working on balancing what is the actual fact of a disease state, with my continued efforts and intention towards healing. I manage it, I take care of myself; I listen to my body and give it support and rest when needed, especially if I’ve pushed myself a little too hard the previous day. I remember the little broken girl, and I whisper to her: Look! We’re walking! We’re strong! It’s safe and beautiful here! And we are loved.