The Client Chair-Kinyana The Elephant

Midweek, after having a lot of external business, my partner and I decided to take a day for fishing. We eagerly headed down to our favourite spot. While he set up his line and got comfortable, I decided to settle into a picnic bench in the winter sun and do some energy work. My favourite workdays are when I connect to spirit while out in nature. Before connecting to my latest client I decided to check in on my own energy field as I had been feeling irritable for a few days. I quickly realised that I was in the company of an earthbound spirit and was frustrated with myself for not checking in sooner when I had felt so out of sorts. I began by giving thanks to the ancestors of the land I was working on and calling on my guides and spirit team. I could sense the presence of what felt like a really tall being, who would not step out of the shadows. I wondered if the spirit were scared and trying to intimidate me. I introduced myself and asked them to talk to me. I again did not receive a response. After waiting patiently, I explained “you can speak to me with your mind like I’m speaking to you, or you can pop images into my head, or sensations into my body. I’m listening. I will do my best to understand. I’m not here to hurt you. It’s safe for you to talk to me.” Immediately I saw the striking and magnificent image of a deep soulful eye. As if slowly zooming out the eye was then surrounded by leathery looking wrinkled skin, which then became the face, ear and trunk of the most majestic creature I have ever encountered; an African Elephant. She looked right into my soul and kept repeating “Kinyana”. “Is that your name?” I asked, and she nodded deeply and slowly. I asked her if she knew she had died, and a single tear streamed down her soulful face. Having never encountered an elephant before in spirit I wasn’t sure how she would best communicate. With curiosity I questioned if she could show me what had happened? Immediately she flooded my mind with the image of a herd of elephants, a family-her family. With elephants of every age, they stood along the edge of a waterhole, drinking and covering themselves in mud. The young ones rolled around and splashed, much like playful human children. It was an impressive and beautiful scene. Suddenly the sound of gunfire echoed through the air and several of the big elephants began to fall. Chaos ensued with elephants trumpeting and running in confusion. Kinyana called for her baby to run. I heard his name; Wanuka. The smaller members of the herd ran out of sight. Six - seven adult elephants lay dead, or dying in the mud, including Kinyana. A group of white men entered the watering hole holding the riffles over their arms, amongst them an African man that Kinyana recognised. She told me “They are poachers. He (the African man) was paid off to bring them to us. This is a huge betrayal. He is family. How could he do this!”. She was extremely upset. I spoke to her gently and apologised for the behaviour of humans and their disregard for animal life, and their joy in big game hunting. I explained to her that much time had passed since she died and that she had been stuck there reliving her trauma. Explaining that I could help her get home into the light, I enquired whether there was some sort of closure she would like before going. “My son! The babies! Where are they?” I asked my Dad (he is in spirit and often works as a go between for me in this work) if he could find out a little more for me. He quickly returned, placing a hand on her trunk and speaking directly to Kinyana. He told her “They are on a nature reserve. They (the young ones) were rounded up and put in a place to protect them. They won’t be killed here, but they are also not in the wild, in their natural home. Wanuka says he misses you dearly and has spent much time in sadness. He longs for the waterhole and the rest of the family. They will escape this place in time. The dry season will open up the lands, and they will simply walk out. They will find the others.” Kinyana began to sway, and trumpet and flap her ears in joy. From the light a man came forward, an African Chief in ceremonial beaded headdress. He spoke in Swahili which I do not understand but Kinyana moved toward him like a dear friend. She explained “We are family. We used to live together, the people and the herd. They followed us to water, and trusted our instincts for the weather and danger, and in return they cared for us, showed us affection and protected us. We lived as one family”. I could feel the love and profound respect between them. She turned and thanked me, fixing me in the gaze of her one sad eye. She told me “Remember, size does not matter, strength comes from within”. With a quick turn of his heel the Chief walked away into the African desert and Kinyana followed swiftly behind, returning home finally. After she left I asked my guides how Kinyana had come to be with me. They explained that she had connected to my energy several days before while having dinner at the home of a new friend. My new friend is a photographer who had spent many years living in Africa and had photographed Kinyana just a day before she had died. I instantly recalled the beautiful photograph I had seen of her in my friend’s bedroom while exploring the art around her house. I am constantly astounded by the way spirit moves through situations and people until they find the right avenue back home.