It was a beautiful, clear and relatively calm mid-February morning earlier this year (2019), as I walked along the beach near Playa Negra, about an hour’s drive south of Tamarindo, Guanacaste province, Costa Rica. I intended to meet the owner of the local hotel, to introduce myself, explain what I do and offer my shamanic services to his guests.
The tide was out, and the exposed expanse of flat sand made for easy walking. As I progressed along the beach, the ocean to my left, I glanced out to sea and saw a man, heavy-set and maybe in his sixties, wading out into the surf. A wave hit him, not a huge one, but powerful nonetheless, and I thought to myself, “Wow, that was a big hit.” I looked back after the wave dissipated and realised I couldn’t see him any more.
Fear and adrenaline began to rush through me, and then I saw the shape of someone floating upside down in the water. I dropped my small backpack, saying “no, no, no” over and over, in disbelief and shock at what I had just witnessed. I had to do something, so I rushed out towards him, shouting “HELP!” louder than I have ever shouted before in my life. In seconds, I was there, but he was face down in the water. I tried to haul him out of the sea, but he was a big man and I was struggling.
At that moment, another man arrived, answering my scream for help, and together we dragged the limp, heavy body out onto the beach. We laid him down, and the other man (Chris) checked for a pulse, which was present. We asked the injured man if he could hear us and tried to reassure him, but he was unresponsive. Others had come to help, and 911 was called. In moments, two doctors, vacationing in the area, were on the scene, and one of them, a man from France, took over and began chest compressions. I explained what had happened, and we continued to work on the body as instructed by the doctor. I stepped back to give space to the three or four people who were carrying out the CPR in turns. This continued for some time, everyone working incredibly well together, no arguing over what to do and expert in their application. But it was to no avail. After thirty or forty minutes, the doctor told everyone to stop.
My heart sank. This man was dead.
Something kicked in within me, and I asked if those present wouldn’t mind if I carried out a ceremony to help send his soul or spirit on its journey. I heard an agreement from Chris, so I grabbed the small rattle from my backpack and knelt before this man lying on the sand, his physical body lifeless. I said some words along the lines of, “Thank you, brother, for the life you have lived, the joy and happiness you have given others, but today was your day to leave this world. We send you off with peace and love as best we can. Our thoughts are with you, your family and friends, and those you leave behind. Thank you to all those who helped today. We could not have done more. It was his time. So, we send you off from this world. God’s speed, brother. Aho.”
I performed the soul release process I had been taught and finished with a chant, which became almost a wail, as I tapped into and released some of the emotion of this tragedy.
It was over within a couple of minutes, and I moved away from the body, knowing that I could not have given more.
For some reason, I gazed up towards the palm-fringed back of the beach fifty metres away, and as I did, an eagle carrying a fish in its talons caught my sight. This is not a sight I have seen before with my own eyes. I was struck dumb as I immediately realised the significance of this. Eagle, in the teachings I have received, means flying with the Great Spirit, and this was confirmation to me that what I had done was correct and appropriate, and that this man’s spirit was being taken away by Great Spirit or God. My tears flowed.
Playa Negra is rather remote, accessed only by dirt roads, and far from the nearest hospital. The paramedics arrived about an hour and a half after the tragedy, by which time I had met the agent for the house the deceased man was staying at and a surfing instructor who had been teaching him. I found out his name was John, from Oregon, USA, and travelling alone.
I left the scene and walked back along the beach, stopping at one point to release further and let the tears of shock and grief flow, knowing that I was meant to be a witness to this tragedy, to be there to help as best I could and to send his soul on its journey as I had been taught. The rest of the day, however, was rather a blur of emotion. A lot of whys and what-ifs came up, which I tried my best to deal with.
The next morning, I walked again on the beach and bumped into Chris (not a coincidence, I’m sure of that), who had rushed to help me the day before. It turned out he was an ex-lifeguard from Ventura, California, and told me that we could not have done more to help John. He said he had felt John’s neck, and it was broken. It looked like the wave had thrown him down onto the compacted, rock-hard sand, head first. Chris also thanked me for my words and the brief ceremony. He said it really helped him.
About a week or so after the tragedy, I spoke to John’s brother on the phone and shared what I saw and what happened. He was very grateful as that was the first detailed information he had been given. John had one brother and two sisters, but no wife or children.
As seems to be my path now, I am very much aware of signs and lessons put my way, to help me on this often difficult and solitary shamanic journey I have signed up for. I knew, as this tragedy was unfolding, that there was a deeper meaning for me. Of course, the sadness and grief felt by John’s family and friends at this terrible loss is rightly first and foremost, but on reflection, now five months later, I feel I can share this story and the bigger picture that arose from the sad passing of a life from this world. I was helped as the tragedy unfolded by an ex-lifeguard and two doctors, amongst others, so the responsibility and necessity for me ‘to do the right thing’ was taken out of my hands. Meeting Chris the following day, who confirmed we could not have done more, alleviated any fears I may have had over my actions. And I was able to give some closure to John’s family, who had been given very little information about what had happened.
I was there to witness, to take action, to help, and then to send his soul off. And finally, I believe, to share this story.
Is death the end? Well, maybe. But, just as the eagle symbolised, flying skyward carrying its precious cargo, with his mortal body left behind, John’s soul had been taken elsewhere, perhaps borne away to its own little piece of heaven.
Respectfully,
Trevor