Note from Kathleen: This book beautifully chronicles Rose's wonderful healing journey with the animals! She has a wonderful way of weaving her personal healing journey into the journeys of the animals who cross her path. Stories of Reiki for animals intertwine with stories of Shamanic ceremonies and traditions. This book is a fascinating window into her world and connection to animals! I've included a chapter describing a beautiful Reiki experience with a baby seal. Enjoy!

by Rose De Dan

At the Edge of Two Worlds

Since my move last November, I have had many occasions to give thanks to the universe for finding me a very special apartment and geographic location to live in. All of my animals and I now live in West Seattle. Not just any part of West Seattle, mind you, but a very unusual environment, that place of possibility between worlds, where land meets water. It is said that it is there that magic can happen, in those places balanced on the knife edge between the spirit world and the “real” world.

Every morning I walk Cerne, my half Irish Wolfhound, along the shores of Puget Sound, the harbor across from the cosmopolitan city of Seattle. Here seagulls soar on wind currents, wheeling and crying. And one exciting day, the sound of furious crows alerted me to the presence of a bald eagle relaxing after a fishing expedition in the tree 20 feet above my head.

Normally the Sound is quiet, no waves lap its shores except those
generated by the ferries that ply its waters (the Sound is dotted with
many islands and peninsulas). On stormy days it is transformed; winds whip the water against the breakwall, and sometimes huge sprays of salt water baptize the unwary walker (and her dog). Living brittle stars, starfish, and mollusks are deposited on the asphalt walk, tasty morsels to be fought over by always hungry gulls and crows. After storms I will sometimes go beachcombing, collecting shells for use in my shamanic despachos. To the west, the Olympic Peninsula (home to the only rain forest in this latitude) can be seen, and on clear days, the majestic Olympic mountain range is visible in all its breathtaking splendor. And the sunsets are spectacular. Hard to believe that I live in the city, isn’t it?

At night, on the opposite shore, the skyline of Seattle changes and she dons her evening wear; strung around the curve of the shore like a glittering diamond necklace around the neck of a beautiful lady, the
lights of the downtown buildings and skyscrapers appear, bathing Puget Sound in their glow. The horns of the ferries are heard, a mournful, yet beautiful sound that always reminds me of the old movie The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. It is very romantic.

Last week spring came early to Puget Sound, heralded by a surprising event many long-term residents never see, and which I was fortunate enough to experience twice!

While walking Cerne I was hailed by a man who asked me, “Is this
normal?” while gesturing to the water by the stairs in the breakwall. I
did not see it at first, so cleverly camouflaged by its coloring against the barnacle encrusted steps, and then with a gasp I realized that I was standing five feet from a live harbor seal! The man’s concern was because the seal was trembling and lying on its side. There was no visible sign of injury, but it did not appear normal to my inexperienced eyes. And why was it lying on the steps, two feet from the water? The man was replaced by a concerned woman who hastened to call Marine Mammal Rescue while I stood guard. I took the opportunity to scan the animal from a distance (there are signs everywhere to never touch them), and could detect no sign of injury. So, I settled down to commune with the seal, and with her permission sent Reiki for whatever benefit she might derive.

As I sat there with her, her color slowly changed and she began to
relax. Yawning lazily she scratched her face with one flipper.
Occasionally she would lift her head and peer up at me upside down, a truly cute and comical sight. Eventually the woman returned with the information that someone would come, and soon Animal Rescue arrived. A close inspection on his part (and she was completely nonchalant about it, gazing trustingly up at him) established that the seal was uninjured and that it was a young pup left on shore while her mother went hunting for fish. Apparently this is a common occurrence, and the rescue organizations get many such calls every year at this time. I enjoyed my stint as babysitter, and when I was directed to another seal pup two days later I was better prepared for my role. The most difficult aspect of this situation were several well-intentioned people who thought that they should roll the pup over and pour water on him (I assume they thought he was kin to whales and dolphins, whose skin would dry out, but seals have fur). Unlike the first, this pup was frightened and headed for the water, stopping by the edge and peering fearfully back at us as I attempted to explain that he was okay, and did not need rescuing.

As I left, I speculated on the great amount of faith in the universe
that a mother seal must demonstrate to leave her pup alone in search of food. Having been “babysitter” for two pups now, I idly daydreamed
about the word spreading, and mother seals bringing their babies to my nursery for the day. Perhaps I could get paid in fish? (My cats and I would love that!) If I expanded into sea otters and their babies I
might even enjoy some shellfish, yum. Oh, the possibilities… And, by the way, if you think that the Pacific Northwest is paradise and are thinking of moving here, allow me to remind you that it rains most of the year, and summer does not begin until July and ends in September. Bring your rain gear.

Originally published in The Kaleidoscope Journal, April 2002, ©Rose De Dan

Postscript: In 2007 we had a record number of seal pups on Alki Beach, and an informal group of residents have formed to take turns watching over them. They call themselves “seal sitters.”

About the Author:  Rose De Dan is a Reiki Master Teacher, mesa carrier in the Peruvian Q’ero tradition, animal healer and communicator, artist and author. In practice since 1996 and in partnership with her companion animals, Rose offers private sessions and ceremonies for humans and animals, and teaches Reiki classes and shamanism workshops in Seattle.
Visit her website at http://www.reikishamanic.com to sign up for the
monthly newsletter or to schedule a session, or send an email to
rose@reikishamanic.com.

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