Pilot Whale

Helpless. We were totally helpless. Though we had great intentions, there was nothing we could do to lift the animal out of the receding tidal pool and back into deeper water. And even if the three of us could move the 1000 pound beast, Robert, who was closest to him, reported that he was gravely injured and certainly close to death….

The morning had begun as usual. I was off at sunrise on my walk with Rowdy and Miss Yeager when, not far from the house I spied something splashing in water. Thinking it was another curious sea lion, I stopped to watch. Suddenly I became aware that whatever it was was stranded and trying to escape the confines of the pool. Without investigating further, and thinking it was a dolphin, I ran home to wake Robert and see if maybe we could rescue the poor animal.

‘Is it large?’ he asked, and though I was pretty sure it was, I said I didn’t know. I was afraid that if I said yes, Robert would tell me it was hopeless and I really really wanted to try. So as he pelted me with questions – how far out? how big? where exactly? – I said 'Just come and look.' Robert donned his full wetsuit and I put on a bathing suit. Running next door to get our neighbor Bruce, I hoped that maybe 3 people could lift it. We gathered something for a makeshift sling and then we all met on the beach in short order. The tide was still going out and time was of the essence.

Wading out in the mid-50 degree water was bone chilling. I kept telling myself that I could do this, though I lagged behind, knee deep in the water as Robert approached the animal. At first he wasn’t sure exactly what it was, and when he mistakenly said it was a shark, I thought,’ Oh good I don’t have to get wet!’ but then I had to question myself. Why I would save one creature, but not another?

Bruce stood at the water’s edge as Robert sadly gave the news that it was a pilot whale and sure to die very shortly no matter what we did. He was close to tears as he reported that the surrounding water was filled with blood and he could see death in the big mammal’s eye. I waded no deeper and neither did Bruce.  We forlornly walked home wishing that it had been otherwise, but nature has her ways.

About an hour later, when the tide was at its lowest I walked out to the animal. Now in only ankle deep water I wanted to inspect him closely and hopefully offer some comfort, if he was still alive. Roughly 10 feet long and black in color, he was covered in blood. I saw that there was a huge gash across his head, as if he’d been struck by a propeller, along with numerous small cuts and lacerations. Several teeth were missing. So little movement led me to believe that he was very close to the end. 

I stood and thanked him aloud and told him how beautiful he was and that even now he was still an awesome creature to behold. Though I was sorry for his pain, I continued to tell him that I was deeply grateful for this opportunity to get so close to him and see his magnificence and how I was here to offer him some comfort and support in the only way I knew how.

I reached down and stroked his flank, and I noticed his eye turn to me and try to focus as if in gratitude. I gently stroked him some more and splashed water onto his parched and peeling skin. He responded by moving his tail back and forth. My apologies were offered for my inability to save him but I would stay in hopes of comforting him. I moved to his head and gently stroked his blow hole. Crouching down, my hand covered in blood I spoke softly to him and it seemed to calm him. As I caressed I was surprised to see him extend his sexual organ and ejaculate into the water, twice. I took it as a sign of pleasure however odd it might seem.

By this time others had begun to gather on the beach to see what was going on. My time with this beautiful creature was coming to an end and I said my goodbyes and wished him wondrous travels on his next adventure. Slowly I walked home deeply touched by the experience.

It was an honor to witness this death – though surely I would have liked to have been able to save him. But it was not to be so. He offered himself to me, so that I might know more of the sea and its inhabitants. He assisted me in facing death yet again. And as I cleaned the sand from my shoes on the patio, I was filled with an unbelievable knowing that this whale gave me a part of himself that will always be with me, no matter what.

And blessedly, I gave him a part of me, too.

Breaking at the Cracks

Tucked way up there inside, hidden deeply from view I was not conscious it was there. True I had heard, ‘Let go and allow it to heal you,’ and I had been forewarned that much emotion was stored away and would likely need to be released, but for some crazy reason I thought that they were telling me of Robert. I should know better by now; he is a reflection of my own inner self. So when the tears came, they were sudden and hot, coming from a buried space within that seemed to be cracking open and spilling out its content with little regard for the moment.

We were dancing in the living room to Colby Callet’s Breaking at the Cracks and the sobs bubbled up from some deep reservoir, rising to the surface as I imagine bubbles rising through hot tar.

I told myself all kinds of reasons not to cry- how I’d scare Robert, how I had to hold it together. In the end he just held me tightly and told me to let it out. In truth I wish I hadn’t contained them at all. I wish I had fully allowed them access to the deepest parts of me for all the moments that I have had to be strong over these last 9 months, for all the fears of the unknown, and all the times I looked at my beloved and felt shock at seeing someone I had never known, someone much older than his 57 years and much weaker than his inherently strong muscular body. I felt a ripple of fear at the awareness of having him brush so close to death and my being left what felt alone.

I wish I had sobbed until there were no more tears, for though I allowed a definite expression I reigned myself in half way through. I guess it was just too painful, too much for me to fully touch as yet. But truthfully that’s just an excuse. It’s time. In each moment, as it happens, it’s time. As the emotions arise – that’s the time to fully embrace life as we are creating it. Stuffing things down, putting them aside until later – if ever- is unhealthy. I know this, and yet old patterns surfaced again. And here in Baja in my cozy casita I am supported by such beauty, such freedom. It is Nature at her most tender and sacred.

Each time I come here I am surrounded by energies that teach me and leave me in awe for what they impart. There has always been a rawness here that has drawn me and, at times, even felt a little scary too. But this trip down I immediately noticed that it felt different, just quiet. No urgent need to walk the beach or search for shells. No buzzing tension of lessons about to be imparted. Just a quiet tenderness that has enveloped me and allowed me to move as I have felt right for me.

At first I wondered have I lost it? Yet now I understand the wisdom of the Universe and how It is gently cupping me in Its embrace, tenderly caressing me to release all the stored emotions. The past 9 months in San Diego were necessary– for both Robert and me- not just for his cancer treatment, but for so much else that I had to return to face and let go of. It was monumental and I still am grateful beyond words that all transpired as it has. I have learned so much….

And now that we are here in Punta Abreojos, the sun is shining, things are being unpacked daily, and I have reentered my precious studio space and begun to paint once again I can feel the Life coursing through my days again. It is exceptional and I am so very very grateful for it all. Just writing, putting thoughts onto paper assists me to bring it up and let it out. Ahhhhh~

Oh listen! I hear my canvas calling! Time to have some breakfast and get going!

xxxooo