By Lisa Borkovich. Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
You can listen to the author read this story below:
The night is still and quiet, except for the background hum of insects. The trees stand like sentinels in the humid summer air. Through their standing presence, the light of the moon on the lake is visible. The lap, lap of the water on the shore is barely audible from the house. Tree branches thick with murmuring leaves form a canopy over the deck. I am standing with another woman at a massage table. A man lies on the table receiving Reiki from us. My hands are poised lightly on the man’s torso. The other woman stands at the end of the table, her hands cradling the man’s head. There is another table of three set up not far from where we are. A woman lies on that table, receiving Reiki from another woman and a man. We do not speak. Everyone’s eyes, but mine, are closed, their attention turned inward.
My eyes hold a contemplative gaze, looking into the branches of tree above, but not seeing. My gaze is also turned inward, despite my eyes being open. Some movement draws my attention outward to the space around me. After a few seconds, a figure begins to emerge out of the pastiche of leaves and sky and branches just above the deck. They are standing on one of the branches high above the deck, one arm extended out to touch the trunk. I see someone looking down at me as if they have been waiting for me to notice them. Our eyes meet, and we gaze at one another for what seems like an eternity. With what feels like deep connection. With what makes me feel tingly, on top of the internal hum from the flow of Reiki. I cannot make them out clearly in the dark, but they feel so familiar to me. I feel like I know them, like I recognize them.
It was so real. It’s opened up a profound sense of loss in me.
They are young, long and lean, but nondescript, genderless. I cock my head in wonder, reason dawning on me. How is it possible that someone climbed into the tree without us hearing them? I continue looking up in disbelief. There they are, standing on a tree branch, silently watching me. Just as I look around at the others, eyes closed still, focused on giving Reiki, the woman beside me shifts her position at the table, and startles me. Startles me out of a reverie? Startles me back to the here and now? She moves quietly and stands directly across from me, laying her hands on the body between us, continuing to offer Reiki.
I am about to draw her attention to the figure in the tree, but when I look up again into the dark canopy, the figure is gone. I inhale sharply, searching the treetop. How can they not be there anymore? Where did they go? Are they hiding? How could we not have heard them move from that branch? Did I just imagine them? I can no longer focus on the body beneath my hands. I feel a huge well of emotion rising in me, and before it can swamp me, I leave the table and go inside.
Once alone, I allow the energy to come up, and I feel my body begin to shake. A dam bursts within and tears stream down my cheeks. I feel like I am drowning and cannot catch my breath. My thoughts spin: Did I make up that whole thing? Was I hallucinating? What had I really seen? Was it just how the light was coming through the trees, casting a shadow? No — someone, something, was there! Could someone be there, and then just slip away as quietly as they had arrived? Why had the others not seen or heard anything? Am I fucking crazy? With that thought, I begin to hyperventilate, my heart beating rapidly as waves of energy wash over me. Then it occurs to me. The presence in the tree was not human. I begin to sob.
The others have wandered in one by one. The woman who had stood across from me, sits next to me on the couch, puts her arm around me and just holds me. It is not unusual for people sharing Reiki to have emotional releases. Another woman sits down on the other side of me.
“There was someone, a presence, in the tree,” I sob, “Did any of you see them?” They all shake their heads. “I saw someone in the tree, looking down at us.”
“Maybe it was a ghost. Or a tree spirit,” one of the men whispers. I look at him, wondering if he is making fun of me. I begin to wail, an inexpressible grief, wracking my body.
“What is this feeling?” I ask them, looking into their faces, all earnest and present for me. “It was so real. It’s opened up a profound sense of loss in me. As if something vital revealed itself and I let it slip away.” The others sit, listening. They wait for me to settle. Then we begin to pack up to leave. No one says another word.
Someone or something revealed itself to me out there. I know it. Then as silently as it had appeared before me, it slipped away again.
