I was reminded of a story last night, one of those long ago events, important and significant enough to keep and safely stored in the cosmic recesses of my memory bank. Did you ever stop and think about that? Where exactly are our favorite memories, really? I also wonder about those texts and emails that never arrive at their destinations. Where do they go?
This particular event happened many years ago. One afternoon a group of us apprentices were called together for a lesson. We didn’t know what the lesson was going to be as we took our seats around the table. Our teacher was seated at the head of the table and I sat to his right. Sitting across from me and to my right were my fellow apprentices. There were eight or nine of us around the table that day.
Someone had brought a broken little healing icon that our teacher had made several years before. He wanted to know if it needed to be repaired or replaced. We were told that each of us was going to check it to see if it was still alive. We didn’t know if it had been damaged to the point that it needed to be replaced or if it had been ‘killed’ when its shell was broken or just what the issue was. Each one of us was to use our pendulum to determine whether or not the little spirit inside the shell was dead or alive. This was a combined pendulum practice and healing session.
The first person placed it in the palm of his hand and held his pendulum over it. The pendulum started swinging in a clockwise circular motion indicating there was still life in the little kukui. “It’s fine,” he said as he handed it to the woman beside him for her to test it. She got the same result and so on as each one passed it to the next person for them to test it, all the way around the table until it got to me.
When it was my turn I took the little kukui, gently placed it in the palm of my left hand and held my pendulum above it with my right hand. The pendulum remained still as I silently asked to open a connection with this little fellow. Sometimes it takes a few moments to make this kind of connection. It’s somewhat like dialing a telephone, waiting for it to start ringing and then waiting for the person at the other end to answer it. It takes a few minutes, especially after so many people had been handling and probing it. I mean, seriously, how would you feel if you went to the doctor and instead of only one, eight different doctors kept examining you, one right after the other? I’d probably be a bit hesitant myself if that had happened to me.
So I waited patiently and remained still, quietly holding it in the palm of my left hand while holding my pendulum above it with my right hand. Apparently everyone was watching, but I was unaware of that at the time. The fellow sitting across from me mistook my silence and the stillness of the pendulum to be my inability to use a pendulum and immediately started offering suggestions on how to make it move. I asked him to be quiet, but he continued talking and leaned across the table to tap the pendulum to start it moving. In all my years of working with pendulums and people, no one had ever done anything like this. I was quite taken aback. Suddenly everyone else decided to offer their suggestions at the same time. I understood how the little spirit inside the little kukui must have been feeling!
I got up and walked outside with the kukui and my pendulum. Fortunately, no one followed me.
After a few minutes outside in the warm sunshine I began to feel the little icon starting to relax. I could feel it soaking up the rays of the sun and enjoying the gentle breeze. After a few more minutes I asked it if it was willing to talk to me. The pendulum began slowly swinging back and forth (a hesitant ‘yes’ answer). I asked if it had been damaged and received a second “yes” swing. I asked it if it had healed itself and again it said yes. The next question was whether or not it wanted to be moved into a new home (shell) and it said no, rather emphatically. A few more inquiries revealed that the spirit had healed itself and adjusted to the crack in the shell. It was quite happy and intact, content to live inside the fractured shell of the kukui. I got the feeling the crack was like another window.
I came back inside and told my teacher what I had gleaned as I handed it back to him. He smiled and nodded in agreement.