The Initiation of a Shamanic Practitioner: A Journey to Katie

Disclaimer: Those of you who know me well know how much I will write when the muse inspires me. This is one of those long pieces that I felt needed to be written and shared. It is about a very personal journey through an initiation for which I have been preparing many years, without knowing how it would manifest in my life until now. You need not read it in one sitting, in fact, you need not read it at all. But if you look at me and wonder what it's like to go through life the way I do, you will come away from this piece knowing and feeling as I do...and learning a great deal about my own human experience.

The Initiation of a Shamanic Practitioner: A Journey to Katie

by Felina Lune Kavi

At the beginning of this month, I found out that my 17-year-old cousin, Katie Smith, was in the hospital with serious, unexpected, health complications. She had multiple blood clots in her lungs, pneumonia, and a bacterial infection throughout her system. She was induced into a coma and on a ventilator so that they could try to keep it from getting any worse. Katie was in the hospital in Des Moines where I was born. She was tugging at my roots to go and see her there.

We made room in our busy weekend to see her on Friday, March 4th. It was important to me to see her.

Before I even knew what was going on with her, before she was even in the hospital, Spirit called upon me to get back to my roots. My husband and I were at our monthly shaman circle on February 25th, journeying like we do. But this journey was distinctly different from any I've ever had before. Previously, all journeys through the shamanic state of consciousness had been light, joyful, even empowering. But that one...it was urgent, foreboding, and intensely emotional. For one thing, I met with my jaguar totem...a call toward integrating my knowledge of shamanic healing into the ordinary state of consciousness in profound ways. Next, I met with my deceased grandmother (who I hadn't seen in a journey since the first one 4 years earlier). This time it confused me, I didn't understand (at the time) why she appeared to me. The whole journey felt riddled with panic and confusion, I was supposed to find something that wasn't there. All that was there when I searched was a burned-down camp...and the jaguar within yowled at my loss that I didn't yet understand.

Woody's drum called me back into my body...and a rush of panic and emotional undertow flooded over me. I feverishly wrote down the scenes that had previously played out...filling a page with what had yet to manifest within the boundaries of ordinary sensory perception. My head was throbbing with sharp pains at either temple, my heart rate was soaring, and my eyes were flooding with tears that had no logical reason for surfacing. I shared the vision with our friends in the circle, not knowing what was to come.

When February quickened to March, my Aunt Kathy wrote...telling the family members of my dad's side that Katie had been rushed to the ICU and was in critical condition. The vision of my grandmother, who was also Katie's grandmother, came back to me. She had been warning me of something. She had been calling upon me to use my Jaguar medicine for something. It was Katie. I had to go to her. I had to try to help her if I could.

The day before we left, I had another vision...this time it wasn't helped along by the rhythmic drumming of the shamanic journey. Everything was coming to me more urgently now...not waiting for me to meditate, journey, or cast a sacred circle. This month had been unusually busy from it's start...and I had no time to get there myself...so everything just started coming to me in sudden flashes of cryptic insight, unannounced and prolific.

This vision was in Katie's hospital room. She, in her hospital bed, was surrounded by water. Jaguar went to her...yowling into the water...and stirred a dolphin from its depths. The dolphin went leaping across Katie...clicking, whistling, and giggling while in the air, splashing into the water at the sides of her bed. It was tired, though, and kept wanting to rest it's head on Katie's chest. Jaguar yowled again, sending power from my totem to Katie's...urging Dolphin not to give up...urging her to use her medicine to help Katie's once powerful lungs to breathe again.

After that, I knew I had to be in that hospital room with Katie...journey to her, and try everything I knew in order to ensure that Dolphin medicine could revive her. I had never worked with a patient in such critical condition before, let alone a family member whose survival I was so emotionally invested in. I felt unprepared, inexperienced...yet, at the same time, I was the conduit through which Spirit had chosen to work. I was the one who could go to her...who could try to reach her. I was drawn to her. She was calling out to me...and so was the spirit of our grandmother.

Upon leaving home, I packed a plethora of altar tools and tsentsak (mostly rocks and crystals) to help me in the journey ahead. I also packed my grandmother's heart-shaped locket (which last played it's tune...you are my sunshine...in her ear at her funeral, before it lost it's song upon re-opening it after her burial). Lastly, something told me to bring a madrone twig I had gathered at Aunt Kathy's house in Oregon when we visited during our honeymoon a couple years ago. I had the urge to break the twig into smaller pieces, but resisted.

When I brought everything to the car, the madrone twig fell out of my carpet bag and landed on the ground behind me. I accidentally stepped on it and it snapped into two smaller twigs and two tiny 'knot' pieces. I took that as a sign, and packed the four pieces...knowing they would somehow come into play as powerful tsentsak later.

We arrived in Des Moines after dark. My five-year-old daughter, Alyrica, droopy-eyed and over-tired, played with Aunt Karen (Katie's mom) in the family room while Jeff (Katie's brother) took Michael and I to see Katie. She was nearly unrecognizable...hooked up to all kinds of aids keeping her afloat for the time being, one of which was a very loud, very powerful machine to aid her breathing...jiggling her in her bed in percussive vibration.

I touched her hand, and something about her knuckles reminded me of the madrone knots I had in my bag. I wanted to kiss her forehead, but couldn't reach her around all of the tubes and wires precariously keeping her alive.

Jeff told us about everything Katie had been going through in the months that led to this. It wasn't a pleasant story to hear...it was hard times for all of them that culminated in this unexpected event that left Katie clinging to life. My heart ached for their whole family. Jeff was disappointed that it was very likely Katie's choice to take up smoking that had led to the blood clots and shutting down of her immune system. She hadn't been caring for herself properly, and had been stubbornly resistant to any help her family wanted to offer. That determined, willful, and rebellious streak that runs rampant in our family had come dangerously close to being the death of her.

The three of us returned to the waiting room...chatting a bit to catch up with each other after not seeing one another since our wedding two years ago. They were all so tired, so in need of a good night's rest...really, in need of some good news that could quiet their minds enough to sleep. I felt a deep tug at my heartstrings that made me want to comfort Aunt Karen and Jeff...but one never has the words on such an occasion. I told them to go home and try to get some sleep. I would stay with Katie tonight.

Aunt Karen made one last visit to Katie's room before she left...Jeff and his friends left soon after. Then Michael took Alyrica to our friends' house so she could sleep. He would pick me up later. I made my way, with my many bags, to Katie's room.

By the look on the face of her night nurse, I figured Aunt Karen must have told her something to the effect of 'this girl is Katie's cousin...she may seem a little strange, but don't worry...she's perfectly harmless'. The nurse was quietly obliging though perhaps a little puzzled by me and the strange things I pulled from each bag. I talked with her about Katie's current medical condition, and told her that I was going to attempt to provide her with some supplemental, harmless treatment that would not involve anything directly influencing her body or the medical treatment her body was currently hooked up to. She was courteous and allowed me to place grandma's locket on Katie's chest, a miniature dolphin-shaped obsidian on her knuckles, and a rose quartz and serpentine stone in each hand.

I set up shop in the visitor area of her room, behind closed curtain. I placed the plethora of rocks, crystals, and other healing tools at my head and my feet and shook the rattle about me in preparation for the journey. I placed the two knuckle-knots of Aunt Kathy's madrone tree in my mouth, one at the back of my tongue and one at the tip...in case I needed them to suck out any power intrusions I would find on my journey. As I rested myself on the small sofa bed, I closed my eyes. The rhythm of the drum that usually carried me into an altered state of consciousness was replaced by the loud, jarring rhythm of the ventilator. The dimly lit, quiet rooms I was used to journeying in were replaced by the disruptive, beeping hubbub of the necessarily lighted hospital room and the scuffling about of the nurse on duty. I had my work cut out for me...and it wasn't easy, at first, to reach her.

But Grandma came to me...in the form of her Deer Totem, and led me to the roots of Grandmother Tree. I followed them down into the earth and was rushed along through a tunnel...then out into an underwater cave. It was mostly dark, but I could see a darker, gyrating mass of something in the water in front of me. As I approached it, I saw it was a swarm of ravenous piranhas. They were feeding on something that was already torn to shreds.

The power intrusions in Katie's chest (symbolized by the underwater cave) had manifested to me as these sharp-toothed fish...eating away at something, which I later realized was her dolphin, and thus, her personal power.

My knuckles glowed on both hands and I felt compelled to grab as many of the piranhas as I could and suck them out of her chest. I could only grab two from the feeding frenzy, and sucked them into my mouth quickly. When I returned back to my body and into a waking state, I heaved the madrone pieces into the bowl I had brought with me, covered them, and placed them in a bag. I left the room quickly and went back to the waiting room where there was a bathroom. I discarded the pieces and cleaned the bowl, my mouth, and my hands.

This was all I could do, I knew. I felt disappointed and very sad. Perhaps I bought her some time, but I had no idea. All I knew is that it was probably too late to save her, and that I had tried my best. I also knew I could not dwell on what I saw there...and that I couldn't give up hope. And I wasn't about to tell anyone, even my husband, about the worst of it. I could only offer some hope by keeping positive...and willing myself to discard any doubt that she would miraculously return to us.

Katie died around midnight on March 12^th, 2011. When I talked with Aunt Kathy the next day (who was taking calls while Aunt Karen and her family were discussing funeral services with the pastor), she said she travelled there from Oregon just in time to spend the last 10 minutes of Katie’s life with her. There was some relief in thinking that maybe I bought Katie just enough time for that reunion, as Aunt Kathy was very important to her while growing up.

Katie's funeral was on Friday, March 18th. I can't describe the ebb and flow of emotion that had been welling up in me about her this month. I found incredible solace in my family that day...as I hope they felt as well. Katie's funeral was a beautiful celebration of an extraordinary life her soul had lived.

At the visitation the night before, I was greeted by our Aunt Kathy. She’s a self-admitted cryer, like me, but she said that Katie was there helping her stay strong…so that she could help the rest of us stay strong, which she certainly did for me.

She saw Alyrica for the first time, and told her how much she and Uncle LeRoy loved the video of her singing her potty-training song ‘I Gotta Poop’. Alyrica immediately began singing it at full voice before I shushed her and told her to wait until we weren’t in the church to sing it. Aunt Kathy laughed and encouraged it anyway, and really…with my family…it wasn’t like it was a bad thing. But, before going to things like this (which we have unfortunately been doing once or twice a year for many years now), I tell Alyrica that she should try not to make it all about her…because it is about the person who passed away. She’s an entertainer at heart, and is still learning the appropriate times and ways to take the stage…and how not to steal the spotlight.

Aunt Kathy took me to Katie’s casket. Among the little trinkets on her chest was the dolphin obsidian, which Kathy moved to Katie’s left hand. There were yellow roses and irises on the casket. Yellow roses were Grandma’s favorite. I even wore a blouse with yellow roses on it for that reason, but didn’t know they were one of Katie’s favorite flowers too. And the irises were symbolic as the flower of life, a flower named after the messenger goddess of the rainbow.

I made my way through our flock of family gathered at the church, hugging and talking with aunts, uncles, and cousins I haven’t seen for many years…some of them not since Grandma’s funeral nearly a decade ago. My husband, Michael, was talking with some family while Alyrica Rayven, my silly little songbird, was entertaining with her potty-training song. I let it go, seeing previously grief-stricken faces now alive and smiling at her unusual and unabashed sense of humor.

I went to Aunt Karen and hugged her. She was still in need of a good night’s rest, I could see. Our family had gathered around her during this time to take the load off of her shoulders…but she was still weighed down with sadness, and still shouldering an unnecessary burden of guilt.

It wasn’t until the funeral the next day that the clouds began to lift, and Katie’s spirit took over the whole church…inviting all of us to celebrate the good times in her life. The room was filled with family, friends, her class of 2011, her swimming buddies and students, and many others. Throughout the service, songs were filling my head. ‘You Are My Sunshine’ replayed on a loop, as well as ‘Rise and Shine and Give God Your Glory’ which was a song I remember Katie and Karen teaching me when we were kids…all of us singing loudly and joyfully in Karen’s car on the way from Grandma’s to Karen’s farm. Soon the pastor asked if anyone would like to come up and speak about Katie…and I felt compelled to rise…and sing for her. I asked Alyrica to help me…knowing I would only be able to cry without her there to keep me smiling. She, of course, agreed…and wanted to sing her favorite bedtime song, “For Emily” by Simon and Garfunkel…a perfect choice, really. And I was glad she didn’t insist we sing her potty-training anthem.

The pastor told me to hold the microphone and just let Alyrica sing next to me. I sat her down on my lap and she instinctively grabbed the microphone and pressed it to her own lips, not waiting for me to begin the song. We sang together, and her loudness washed away my sadness and kept my voice strong as well.

After the song, Alyrica wouldn’t let go of the microphone and decided to tell everyone how she really loves Katie and wished she didn’t have to die. And how she wished Katie could come back to life. It choked many of us up, but at the same time…Alyrica’s innocence and fearlessness to express what was on all of our minds was a call to realize that Katie’s memory would always be with us, even though her soul had taken flight.

After many shared memories of her, they played ‘Angel’ by Sarah McLachlan, which I sang quietly to Alyrica while holding her in my arms. When they played ‘Strawberry Wine’ by Deanna Carter, my Aunt Kathy, Katie’s step-sisters, and many others stood up and sang into their thumbs…as Katie used to do. All of the emotion I had been suppressing then flooded out of me…that was the moment in the service where Katie seemed to be singing along and urging everyone to rise and shine along with her.

Soon after, we proceeded to the cemetery near Aunt Karen’s farm. As we stood there, Alyrica gathered a bouquet of “cattails for Katie” from the ground. Near the end of the service, she had picked up a piece of deer poop and asked me “What’s this?”…at which point everyone behind us tried to stifle giggles. It seemed to me a joke from my Grandmother…as if to say, keep your spirits up and take time to laugh at what’s funny. We then took the cattails to the coffin and left them there for Katie before driving up the road to Karen’s farm.

The sadness had lifted when we all gathered at the farm, a place so important in my growing years that it felt like a warm hug just to be back there again. Last time we were there was in 2008, and Katie was there…introducing me to ‘Celtic Thunder’ as they performed on TV during a family reunion before Christmas that year.

The whole house was filled with people and food…which was the way our family gatherings always were. Someone had made chicken soup with homemade noodles…a dish that reminded me of my Grandma’s. I hadn’t tasted it since before she died and was grateful that someone had taken the time to make it for Karen.

While Alyrica was playing in the toy room upstairs, I took a walk around the yard with Uncle Jim and Aunt Michele, whom I haven’t seen since I first became pregnant with Alyrica. I always used to take walks with them wherever we were gathered. Uncle Jim admitted to me that they tended to do that when there were huge swarms of people buzzing around whosever home we were gathered. They are a quieter sort, more inclined to share when in smaller groups. Along the way, I noticed that Aunt Karen now had the three deer statues that used to be Grandma’s…along with the old playhouse we used to play in at Grandma’s farm.

Aunt Karen had become Grandma, I thought to myself. Since Grandma had passed, our family had lost its sense of centeredness…its grasp on our roots. But Karen never lost it. She always had it there, at the farm. And each time we gathered there after, and anytime from now on…we were coming home.

When we got back to our own home in Omaha that night, the TV was on IPTV. ‘Celtic Thunder’ was performing. I froze, remembering the last time I heard them was because of Katie. They were going to be in Lincoln in October…so I felt it important to mark it on my calendar.

The next day, Michael and I went to a retreat at Platte River State Park. When we entered the lodge, the facilitator told us we had time to take a walk around outside before everything began. He said the deer were out in large groups all morning. As soon as he mentioned the deer, Sarah McLachlan’s song ‘Angel’ started playing through the speakers. I knew I was in the right place at the right time, Grandma and Katie were telling me, simultaneously.

Throughout the day, things that each speaker would say kept bringing up memories of Katie and Grandma…and thoughts about Aunt Karen. I kept fighting back tears that were both happy and sad at the same time. Finally, after our friend, Woody’s speech about shamanism in the 21^st century, someone suggested he break out the peace pipe.

A handful of us gathered in a circle outside in the rain of the Full Storm Moon. The tobacco that Woody loaded into the pipe was not for inhaling into our lungs, but for smoking out into the cloudy sky along with our prayers. When the pipe came around to me, I thought of Katie and wished her a happy return into the arms of angels above. But my prayers were for Aunt Karen, especially, and for her family.

After the pipe returned to Woody, he mentioned that whoever it was that was worried about their Aunt need not worry. She will be okay. Of course, I cried a little…letting loose the worry that had been making my eyes water all day. The gentle rain washed away my tears…and all was peace.

In the energy circle at the end of the night, I saw Katie take the hand of my spirit guide and fly away toward the full moon, looking back to me with her smile that I will never forget.

While Katie graced this earth for almost eighteen years, her soul left an imprint on my own…and many others. I know I will see her again someday.