SHAMANGIRL
MeghanGilroy
[email protected]
www.meghangilroy.com
781-254-4172
ShamanGirl MeghanGilroy
ShamanGirl,acomingofagememoirbyMeghanGilroy,isanunlikely,truetaleof
transformationfromanAll-American,middle-classoverachieverfromPittsburgh
whoaspirestobe“justlikeeveryoneelse”toaShamanGirlwhofollowsherown
heart–whichleadshertosurprisingplaces.Hilariousandheart-touching,we
journeyalongsideMeghanasshefallsdownaspiritualrabbithole,strugglesto
embraceherinnershaman,andsuffersmajorwhiplashfromnavigatingthe
everydayalongsidetheextraordinary.
Thisbookismorethanonewoman’sjourneytoaccepthermostprecious,secret,
andvulnerableself–it’saninvitationtobecomespiritualandspunky.ShamanGirl
isthebasisofamovementtolivejuicyandmergethemessyandthemagicin
everydaylife.
TABLEOFCONTENTS
✔Preface
PART1:GROWINGUPGOODGIRL
✔ConfessionsofaShamanGirl
✔It’sMyStoryandI’llTellIfIWantTo
✔ComingOutoftheSpiritualCloset
✔WhoYouCallingShaman?
✔Growingupinda‘burgh
✔FromGoodGirltoShamanGirl
✔Valedictorian
✔WakingUpinVegas
✔HolaCompton
✔ShamanGirlintheHood
✔FirstDateFight
✔LA-LALand
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✔CrackingandCrumbling
✔LivinglaVidaLoca
✔IQuit!?
✔MyMexicanAngelsTimesTwo
✔WhoAmI?
✔MyShaman
PART2:LEARNINGTOFLY
✔NavigatingbyMoonlight
✔ThePlungeintoanAlternateReality
✔WelcometothePyramidsofMexico
✔TooBigforMyBritches
✔TheNagual
✔PreparetoDie
✔FryDay
✔Hell
✔AngelofDeath
✔TheBodyoftheSerpent
✔ThePlagueof‘99
✔ThePlaceWhereGoodGirlBecomesGoddess
✔One
✔Re-Entry
✔TheQuesttotheLandofOz
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✔BurnBabyBurn
✔TheApprentice(andnotwithDonald)
✔TheInitiation
✔TheGardenoftheGoddess
✔Mini-MeMia
✔FreetoWorshiptheIncanGods
✔LockedinwithLlamas
✔BribingMyWayOutofMachuPicchu ✔DarkForces
✔Meanwhile
✔Self-Medicating
✔HathorRising
✔ManifestingMoney
✔Dreamtime
✔SpiritWanderings
✔TheIntervention
✔KickThemOut?!?
✔9/11
✔TheNagualWoman
✔TheLastSupper
✔TheDisconnect
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PART3:HOT,HUNKYSHAMANLOVE
✔ShamanGirlMeetsShamanGuy
✔TakeTwo&IReallyDon’tLikeThisGuy
✔TheRejection
✔TheDisastrousDinner
✔MyDreamMan
✔LoveLetters
✔SayYes
✔GettingFreakier
✔YES!
✔TheGood-byeDate
✔TheOnlyPossibleAnswer
✔OneTiny(orBig?)Problem
✔WillYouBeBack?
✔AGoodSperm
✔HeyBabyWannaBoogie?
✔TheFullyShiningWoman
✔TheSteamRoom
✔RealityCheck
✔BreakingNews
✔TenDaysLater…
✔WeddinginaDay
✔OnTopoftheSun&OvertheMoon
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✔FiestaTime
✔ShamanSex
✔TheHoneymoonIsOver&theMeltdownBegins
✔LegalSchmegal
✔OnProbation
✔StandingUpforSpiritual
✔Woo-wooWedding,NumberTwo
✔TheAftermath
✔TheAsk
✔HeadingBackEast
✔PitStopsDownMemoryLane
✔ShamanGuy’sPast
✔AlmostThere&Now
✔Finally
EPILOGUE
✔Andthen….
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Preface
Formanyyears,Itriedtobeaseriousspiritualteacher(emphasisontried).Iwas
moderatelysuccessful.ButmostlyIwasastresscasesinceIwasalsowritingtwo
books,coachingprivateclients,hostingtwoTVshows,runningourhousehold,
mama-ingademandinglittleonewhileattemptingtomaintainaromantic
relationshipwithmyhusband.Blah!Ipromotedlivingpeacefully,passionately,and
purposefullybutwaserroneouslyequatingbeingbusywithpassionandpurpose.
Needlesstosay,therewasn’tmuchpeace,Iwasscatteredatbest,anditwasallTOO
MUCH.
Fromthequietspaceofbeingrealandhonestwithmyselfandchoosingtoonly
pursuewhatlightsmeup,ShamanGirlwasborn.Afteryearsofdenyingmytrue
shamannature,shecamepouringoutofmeanddemandedthatIslowdown,listen,
remember,payattention,turninward,andmostimportantly,havefun!
Thankyou,girlfriend,forcomingtomyrescue.
AssoonasIacknowledgedtheShamanGirlwithinme,ShamanGirlsstarted
appearingeverywhere–inmyhouse,downthestreet,atthegym,ontheinternet.I
realizedthatShamanGirlwasmuchmorethanmyunlikelystoryofgrowingup
GoodGirlasawhitemiddle-classkidfromblue-collarPittsburghandfallingdown
therabbitholetojourneythroughtimeandspacewithshamans.
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ShamanGirlisactuallyacommunity,amovement,ofShamanGirlswhoare
courageouslycomingoutofthecloset,recognizingourtruepower(source,God,
Life,universalintelligence,Ethel,whateveryouwanttocallit)andexpressingitin
ourownunique,authentic,zanywayintheouterworld.MyShamangalpalsinspire
me,makemelaughtillIcry,talkhearttoheartaboutwhattrulymatters,andoffera
hugortissuewhenIfallsplatonmyface.Andthereareliterallymillionsofus
aroundtheglobe.
WeShamanGirlsareaweebitcrazy–walkingbetweentheinvisibleandthe
everyday.Soit’sreassuringtoknowthatthereareotherslikeusgoingthroughthe
sametransformations(isthisrealorinsane??)andthesamejoys,challenges,
frustrations,andtriumphs,oftenwhiletryingtofigureouthowtoexplainittoour
friendsandfamily.
Ifthisbookhasfounditswayintoyourhands,thenyouaremostlikelyaShaman
Girl(orShamanGuyforthatmatter).Welcometothetribe.Ifyou’renotsure,goto
[insertlink]totaketheYouKnowYou’reAShamanGirlIf…quiz.Ifyouwanttosee
ifthereisafellowShamanGirlnearyouorarereadytoclaimyourspotonthe
ShamanGirlmap,goto[insertlink].
PerhapsaShamanGirlhasgiventhisbooktoyousothatyoumightunderstandusa
bitbetter.Ipromisetokeepyouentertainedevenifyouthinkallthisenergystuffis
purewoo-woononsense.
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Ihopeintellingmyunbelievableandwackystorythatyouwillfindsome
inspiration,wisdomorhumorthatwillmotivateyoutoopenthedoorstomorelove
andhappinessinyourownlife.NomatterwhetherweconsiderourselvesaShaman
Girlornot,theworldcouldsureusesomemorecompassionandrespectdon’tyou
think?
AsShamanGuylikestosay,“Holdontoyourpanties,we’reoffforawildride!”
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PART1:GROWINGUPGOODGIRL
ConfessionsofaShamanGirl
Ihaveasecrettoconfess.IamaShamanGirl.Ishudderslightlyatblatantly
admittingmysecretidentitytotheworldlikethat.Afterall,amiddle-classwhitegirl
fromPittsburghisn’tyourmostlikelycandidateforbeingashaman.Andwhatwill
myneighborssay,nottomentionmyparents?
WhileIdomyfairshareofwoo-woo,Ijusthavetodrawthelinewhenpeoplegoall
angels,crystals,faeries,orpastlivesonme.Ifeelmostcomfortableblissedoutina
formlessstate,tappedintosource,butIalsomakemypilgrimagestoTargetina
mini-Cooperwithgrubbyboyprintsonthewindowbythecarseat.Idon’twear
leather,especiallyleatherwithfringe,exceptwhenonthebackofmyhusband’s
motorcycle.Idohaveafewsmall,discretefeathersinmyhair,butsodohalfofthe
thirdgradersintownwhoaresportingthelatestfeatherextensionstrend.
Gofigure,onlyIhaven’tfigureditoutmyselfyet.Butit’stimetoembracemyinner
shaman.Notjustmine,butyourstoo.Usspiritualseekersandlightworkersneedto
comeoutoftheclosetsomeday.AndthebestIcanreckon,thattimeisNOW.
It’sMyStoryandI’llTellIfIWantTo
Mywritingthisbookfeelsalittledirty,asintheBadGirlRebelinmeiscomingout
fastandstrong.Yousee,inmytrainingandfromthetraditionthatcomesbeforeme,
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youDONOTrevealyourstory,especiallyinpublicortoyourstudents.Whenyoutell
yourstory,youbecomeexposed.Itopensthedoorforopinionsandforjudgment.It
couldbeusedagainstyou.Itlessenstheauraofmysteryaboutyou.Sowritinga
bookaboutbeingaShamanGirl,andlayingallofmebare–boththepartofmethat
isconnectedtothewoozy-doozyenergyofLifeandthepartofmethatthinksthisis
allabitcrackers-isagreatbigno-no.
Ifonechosestobeashaman,guru,orotherhoity-toitymuckymuck,thenIfully
understandthepointofviewofbeingstory-less.Therearemanytraditional,bona
fideshamansouttheredoingamazingwork-andkeepingtheirpersonallifeprivate
servesthemandtheirunderlings.Kudostoyou.ButInolongeraspiretobeahigh
priestess-all-hail-the-goddess-gurutype.Ifyouoryourgurudoes,thenohshanti
andabignamastetoo.Seriously.
Justlikeyou,Ihaveafullandactivelife.I’vegotstuffgoingoninsideandout.Mylife
isusuallyawhirlwind,happilyso.I’mamodernShamanGirlnavigating
contemporaryeverydaylifewhiledreaminganalternatereality.I’mthemamaofa
preschooler,theadorableandwillfulShamanBoy.Asisanymamaofalittleone,
especiallyaconstantly-on-the-go-and-why-can’t-I-jump-off-the-top-of-the-playsetma?I’moftenexhaustedoronmyhandsandkneesinthemud.
I’malsotheMegsy,akastepmom,ofacollegestudent,Kai,andhisgirlfriend,Wren,
whobothlivewithus.Mostlytheyareajoyanduber-helpful,unlesstheyare
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understandablystressedaboutschooloryoudaretopokeyourheadintotheirden,
er,bedroom.
Myhusband,thehandsomehunkShamanGuy,runsasuccessfulbusiness,whichI
amoccasionallycalledtopitchhitfororaskedtoentertainaclientortwo.Wehave
adogthatneedskibbleandawalk.Andohyeah,Iwriteandteachandcoachpeople
asacareerandhavebeenknowntodoaTVShow–ortwo.
Whoselifethesedaysisn’taboutjugglingamillionschedules,responsibilities,or
otheropportunitiestopullyourhairoutand/ordrinkbeforecocktailhour?Mylife
–houseinthesuburbs,husband,kid,career,looksrathernormalatfirstglance.And
yetifyoustepinsidemyfrontdoor,thereisdefinitelymorethanmeetstheeye.
IamwritingShamanGirlbecauseIhaveamessagetoshare.It’spossibletobea
shaman-aspiritualseeker,ahealer,aIbelievein________(fill-inyourwoo-woobelief
here)–andstilllivea“normal”life.Youdon’thavetogoofftoacaveoranashramto
havethemysticalmergewiththepractical.Youdon’thavetogoandsitatthefeetof
aguruorshamanstudyingforyears.Youcandoallyour“work”fromthecomfortof
yourlivingroomorinfrontofyourMac.Youcandoitoveracupofjoebeforethe
kidsneedtobedriventoschool.Sure,it’sfuntohangoutinagroupofotherinner
worldexplorersandtherearegreatbenefitsfromraisingyourenergyinagroup.
Just,please,don’tdrinktheKool-Aidandhaveenoughsensetowearbetterfootwear
thangrubbywhitetennisshoes.
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Mymessageisbestsharedasastory.Becauseafterall,whodoesn’tloveagoodtale?
Someofmybest,warmestmemoriescomefrombeingtuckedintobed,listeningto
myparentsreadgoodnightstories,orsittingaroundacampfireandgettingthe
bejesusspookedoutofme.Ifyoucaretoreadbetweenthelines,youmightgraba
nuggetofwisdomortwo.Andifnot,noworries!Hopefullyyou’llgetyourmoney’s
worthfromthestoriesthatspanfromcoasttocoast.
IamamasterstorytellerandI’mnottootingmyownhorn.Mostofusdon’tthinkof
ourselvesasmastersofanythingletalonestorytellers,butweare.Everyday,weget
upandlifeisinfullmotion.Wedecidewhetherwakinguptiredsucksorwhetherit
meansweshouldgoeasytoday.Inbetweenourears,somehowtiedtothegrey
matterinourheads,isourmind,whichhastheincredibleabilitytointerprethow
weseelife.Youknow,istheglasshalf-emptyorhalf-full?Dowelookattheworld
withloveorwithfear?Orboth?
Iamastorytellerinmanysenses.Ihaveakillerstorytotell.Enjoytheshow.Some
crazyshithasgonedowninmylifeandthere’sbeenalessonortwolearnedalong
theway.Ialsohaveamindthatlikestochatterwiththebestofthem.Somedaysit
tellsabeautifulstoryfullofmagicandmystery,manifestation,loveandkindness.
Otherdaysit’spissyanddoubtfulandyou’vereallygottobekiddingifyouthinkthis
stuffisreal,letaloneworks.Idomybesttoseetheworldthroughtheeyesoflove.
Tothink,speak,andactfrommyheart.
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Yetsometimes,Ifallflatonmyface,likethismorningwhenIwasyellingatShaman
Boytogetyourbuttinthecarnow,don’tmakemeaskyouagain,youarelatefor
schoolandIreallydon’tcareaboutwhatever’sgottenyouriledupbecauseIhavea
meetingin15minutes.Hey,that’swhyit’scalledapathofawarenessorjourneyto
enlightenment.MystoryembodieswhoIamandhowIbecamewhoIam–inallof
mygloryandallofmynotsofinemomentstoo.
Lifeisfullofthemundanebutit’salsofullofmagic.Notblack-hatted-witch-on-abroomstickkindofmagic,buttheenergyofLife,synchronicity,serendipity-do-da,
kindofmagic.Whatworlddoyoulivein?Ivoteforboth.
It’smystoryandI’lltellifIwantto.Ifinallywantto.Holdontoyourpanties,we’re
offforawildride.
ComingOutoftheSpiritualCloset
FormanyyearsIlivedintwoworlds:myeverydaylifeandmyspiritualcircle.My
everydayexistenceconsistsofmommyfriendswhogatherforplaygroupsandaren’t
youHouseWright’swife?queriesfrompeoplearoundtown.(ShamanGuy’salterego
isHouseWright,thesuccessfulbusinessmanwhoisprominentbuildingcontractor
inMarbley-head.Forthoseofyouwhodon’thalefromNewEnglandorstudy
arcanehistoricaltrivia,aHouseWrightistheoldfashionednameforcarpenter.
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Anyhoo.)Myspiritualcircleconsistsoflike-mindedseekerswhogatheron
weekendsatretreatsorunderthecoverofdarknessforameditationgroup.
Occasionallythesetwoworldsbleedtogether,likewhenmygoodgalpalLuz,whoI
takeyogaclassesfrom,washavingherhouserenovatedbyHouseWright.Ourkids
wouldclimbthejunglegymsinourbackyardswhilewe’dtalkaboutmattersofthe
heart.Mostlythough,I’vefeltlikeI’vewrappedaninvisibilitycloakaroundShaman
Girlandputonthegoodfaceoflivingthesuburbandreamcompletewithcutehouse
(check),hard-workinghusband(check),housefulofactivekids(check),doginyard
(yep),andwhitepicketfence.Okay,thewhitepicketfencewasatthelasthouse,
nowourfenceisblackwroughtiron.MaybemyShamanGirlcolorsarestartingto
bleedthrough.
Latelythough,somethingisstirringjustbelowthesurface-evenhereinmysweet
littlehamletofMarblehead.Marbleheadisanuppermiddleclassbedroom
communityofBoston,nestledontherockyNewEnglandcoast.Brrrr.Mosthouses
intownareatleast100yearsold(greatforHouseWright!),arepaintedarainbow
ofstatelycolors–oursisCampbellsoupredwithyellowtrim,andtoppedoffwitha
flowerboxtoboot.Pictureperfect.WhenIfirstarrivedinMarblehead,almosta
decadeago,IthoughtIhadbeendroppedintothemoviesetofPleasantville.Itdid
notstrikemeasaplaceI’dfindfellowShamanGirls.
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Thetownisseveralhundredyearsoldandformostofitsexistencewasfilledwith
fishermenandshoemakers.Manyfamiliesintowncantracetheirancestrybackto
thefoundingfamilies,sotheretendstobeatraditional,conservativeelement
around.Americanflagshangfromalmosteveryhouse,especiallyaround4thofJuly,
whichisasbigifnotbiggerthanChristmasaroundhere.Ourflavorofpatriotism
stemsfrom“webrokeawayfromEnglandwaybackwhen”(therearestillpeople
whore-enactRevolutionaryWarbattlescompletewithmuskets,drums,fifes,and
colonialdressonaregularbasis)morethanthesupport-our-troops-in-Afghanistan
variety.
Mixedinwiththeold-timersaretheyuppieswhohavemorerecentlycolonized
town.ThesenewbiesusuallyhaveaMILFinthefamilywiththehusbandwho
commutesintoBostontobringhomethebaconinhisBMW.Becauseofour
gorgeousharbor,boatingisbigandtherearequiteafewyachtclubs.Yes,grown
menaroundherewearstripedseersuckershortswithwhalesembroideredonthem.
WhenIfirstmovedtotown,everyonewarnedmethatthetownfolkweresnobby
andcliquish.Ididn’thavehighhopesoffindingsoulmatesinNewEngland.Boywas
Iwrong.
Yetinthismostunlikelyofsettings,ShamanGirlsarecomingoutofthewoodwork.
Justlastmonth,ImetBelle,theownerofabeautysalonintown,whomutualfriends
hadbeensaying“youtwohavegottomeet”foryears.She’sputteringwiththe
windowboxesinfrontofherstore,oneofhergirlsplayingatherfeet.Westrikeupa
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conversation,excitedlydrawingalltheconnectionswithinourlives,andBelleleans
overandconspiratoriallysays,“Idon’tusuallywalkaroundtownsayingthis,butI’m
actuallyashaman-in-training.”It’sallIcandotonotlookaroundforthecandid
camera.Really?RighthereinMarblehead?Andguesswhat.Iplayontheshaman
teamtoo!
Withinweeks,IfindmyselfmeetingAmazingGrace,Dr.V,andmyTwin,allShaman
Girlsaswell.AmazingGraceisa“bodylistener”whocanintuitivelypickupwhat
yourbodyissayingandneeding,helpmoveoldstuckenergythroughyou,while
givingyouthemostfantasticmassage.Howcouldwehavenevermetbefore?She’s
beenhidingoutforthelast15yearsdownthestreetandaroundthecornerfrom
me,attheendofamazelikecorridorofnondescriptoffices,astone’sthrowaway
frommyfrontdoor.Afterourfirstsession,IsaytoAmazingGrace,“I’montoyou.
You’rehidingoutbackhere,patchingeveryoneupandsendingthemoutintothe
worldtofightthegoodfight.”Herdeepgorgeouslaughburstsforthandsheadmits,
yep,that’sjustwhatshe’sbeendoing.She,too,beentinkeringawaywiththeideaof
comingoutmore.
NextImeetDr.V,aJewish-Buddhistholisticdoctor.Yetanotherheartsisterwho
I’veheardofforyearsbutonlyrecentlyconnectedwith–eventhoughshehadbeen
ontheyogamatbehindmeformonthsinLuz’sclasses.WhenIsitdownwithDr.V
tointerviewherformyTVshow,shesays,“Ihelppeoplebringouttheirinnerlight
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andshine.Ihelpthemaligntheirbody,mind,andspiritthroughbetterhealth.”Go
sista!
Andthenthere’smyTwin,newtotown,lickingherwoundsafteradivorcewhile
bravelyfiguringouthowtofinallylistentothatinnervoicethatshe’sbeenignoring
foryears.Wemightaswellbeenseparatedatbirth–ourlifestoriesaresoparallel.
Wehavethesameinfectiousenergyandenthusiasmforlaughingourwaythrough
challenges.She’sbeenopeningupbyplayingwithangelcardsandgettingherReiki
mastercertificate.Ononehand,shethinksshe’sgoingcrazydrawingsymbolsinthe
airtoinvoketheenergyofReiki,themaster,andyetshecanfeel,inherbody,that
thisworks.It’sreal.Welcometotheclub.
WhilenoneofthesefellowLightWorkerswouldnecessarilyidentifythemselvesas
ShamanGirls,theyareShamanGirlsatheart.ShamanGirlsknowthereissomething
moretolifethanthehouse,man,kids,orcareer.Wehaveadeepyearninginour
heartstoknowourselvesbetter,beyondwhateverrolesweplayaswife/partner,
mother,sister,daughter,friend,beyondwhatevermessypastweareovercoming,
beyondthewaywe’vebeentaughttothinkweshouldbebyourparents,teachers,
andsociety.AShamanGirlistappedintosource,Life,theuniverse,God.Whatever
youwanttocallthismysteriousforcethattravelsthroughus.Andwe’reexploring
howwecanbestandmostauthenticallyexpressLifemovingthroughinthemidstof
jugglingtherestofour“normal”everydaylivesthatarefullofbillsandgrocery
shoppingandmeetingdeadlinesandhelpingtotakecareofothers.WeShamanGirls
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areworkingthroughhowwecanfirstandforemostdeeplynurtureourselvesand
listentoourheartswhilestillbeanengagedandvibrantpartofthelargerworld.
BeingaShamanGirlisn’tapieceofcake.Weoftengoagainstthegrain,shakingup
ourownworldandrockingeveryoneelse’slivesabittoo.Wespeakourtrutheven
ifitgoesagainstwhatourmindsorourworldsaysisproperorcool.Ourlivesmay
lookperfectontheoutside,butiftheydon’tfeelrightwithin,wemakeachange–or
lifegivesusagoodswiftkickinthebutttomakethatchangeforus.Manyofushave
sacrificedourselvesinthepast–whetherbyputtingothersinfrontofourselvesor
byseekingotherpeople’slove,attention,orapprovalovervaluingourselvesandour
ownhappiness.Weoftenfeelcalledtoserve,volunteer,orheal.Sometimesour
nobleintentionsgetabitdistorted–perhapsbelievingthecallwastohelporheal
othersinsteadofitbeingpartofthejourneytohealourselvesandthenholdthe
spaceforotherstodothesame.Butintheendourheartsareintherightplaceand
growthprevails.Aboveall,wefeeldeeply.Throughtuningintowhatwefeeland
learningtotrustthatinnervoice,theintuition,theinnerknowing,wecreateamore
authenticlifeforourselves.
BeingaShamanGirlcanbescary.Weoftenfeellikewearecrazy.Anditdefinitely
takescourage.Imeanreally.Whowouldmakethisuportakethisonknowingly?
Butinspiteofitall,weShamanGirlscannolongerhideoutinthebackcorner.Our
lightdeservestoshine.Thepeopleinourlivesdeservetoseeandfeelthatlight.And
theworldcouldsho’useittoo.
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Stillwonderingjustwhattheheckisashaman?Indaysgoneby,whenwewere
moreconnectedtothelandandstillrunningaroundinfurs,theshamanwasthe
spiritualleaderofthetribe.Theshamancouldinducehimselfintoatrance,often
withtheuseofpowerfulherbs,dancing,chanting,ordrumming,usuallyinfrontofa
fire,andtraveltootherrealmstogatherinformation.Hewalkedbetweenthe
worlds–theeveryday“hereandnow”andtheotherworldlyrealmsthatdefy
explanation.Hemightbringbackaknowingabouthowtohealasickcompatriotor
beabletodirecttheseedsowersjustwheretolaydowntheircrops.Becauseofhis
wisdom,hewasoftenreveredorevenfeared.Hewasapowerfulmotherf’@*erin
histribe.
WhenIpictureashaman,Iseehislinesofwisdometchedintohisface.He’susually
abrownfolk(goon,getoverthestereotypenow),withabunchoffeathersinhis
hair,beadsaroundhisneck,andperhapsafewbellsattachedtohisbarefeet.Hehas
aswirlofsmokearoundhisheadfromhiscopalorincenseburningbright.Thereis
definitelyafirenearby,andstarsoverheadinthesky.Adrumbeatssomewherein
thebackground.Occasionallyyou’llcatchmebyafirewithadrumbeatgoing,but
mostoftenit’sbythefireplaceinmydiningroomlisteningtomyfavoritetuneson
myipod.
IamaShamanGirlandIknowtherearemillionsmoreofmeoutthere–Ijustdon’t
lookoractlikemyownstereotype.It’stimeforashamanimagemakeover.Shamans
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nolongerareaspecialchosenfew.Allofus,everyone–eventhosewhoadmittedly
denyordoubtit-areconnectedtosource.Allofushaveintuition.Allofushavea
specialgiftthatifwearebraveenoughtoidentifyitandshareit,willcreate
happinessandabundanceinourownlivesandcantouchthelivesofothersinthis
world.Moreandmoreofusarewalkingbetweenworlds,whetherit’sbetweenour
innerknowingworldandourouterdailylives–orbetweenhavingaspiritualcircle
aswellasaregulareverydaylife.Allofushavebeenscaredtorevealourmost
secret,mostprecious,andrathervulnerableinnerself.Sure,someofusareafew
stepsfartheralongonthepathofawakeningtothetruthofourbad-assShamanGirl
selves.ButifI,askinnywhitegirlfromamiddleclasssuburbinSteelerNationcan
doit,socanyou.
AretheredayswhenIwishIcouldbeacompleteMuggle?Absolutely!(Ifyou
haven’treadHarryPotter,shameonyou.Butthisbookdownnowandgocatchup,
I’llwaitforyoutojointhewizardworld.)IfIwereaMuggle,Iwouldn’tneedto
balancealltheactivitywithsomedeepdowntimeinyogaclassormeditatinginmy
office.Theresultsofskippingoutofattuningtomyinnerworldareugly,justaskmy
hubby.Iwouldn’thavetospeakupandtellthoseIlovethatIcan’tordon’twantto
meettheirexpectationsofme.Icouldgetanice,stablenine-to-fivejob.Icouldbe
happygossipingortalkingabouttheweatheratcocktailparties.Heck,Icouldstay
homeandfallasleeptuckinginShamanBoyinsteadofhaulingmybuttoutofbedto
goteachmindfulness.Iwouldn’twakeupinthemiddleofthenightscrabblingfora
penbecauseIhavetorememberthisorthatmessage.Icouldhangwithfriendsor
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familyandnotbeworriedthatI’msomehowgoingtooutmyselfbytalkingabout
thelatestinneradventuresinmycrazylife.
But(doublesigh)that’snotme.That’snotthelifemyheartyearnsfor.Andthat
doesn’tseemtobethelifeI’vebeencalledto.
Shamans.Healers.Goddesses.Witches.Priestesses.SpiritualTeachers.LifeCoaches.
Doctors.Gurus.Nuns.Ministers.We’vegonebymanynames,inalltraditions,inall
religions.Acrossallsocialclasses,races,andstylesofclothing.Yes,ofcoursewe
havedoubtsaboutourpower,aboutwhetherthisenergymumbo-jumboisreal.But
deepdown,weknow.Wetrustourinnerwisdom,ourauthenticity,ourhearts.We
canlivewithonefootineachworld.Bridgingthespiritualwiththepracticalisour
life’swork.Andit’sawholeloteasiertowaveyourmagicwandaboutifyouaren’t
stuffedintoacloset.It’stimetocomeoutintothelightandembraceourinner
shamans.
WhoYouCallingShaman?
I’veoftenbeenasked,“Areyouarealshaman?Whonamedyouone?”Asbynowyou
canguess,Idon’twalkaroundsaying,“Hey!Lookatme!There’sashamaninyour
midst.”QuitefranklyIdon’tlikebeinglabeledorputabox,anybox–shamanor
otherwise.Idon’tliketohavetocontendwiththeideaandexpectationsofwhatit
meanstobeashaman.That’swhyIlikeShamanGirl.Takestheedgeoff.
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Andyes,fortherecord,Ihavebeennamedashamanbyashaman,whocamefroma
longlineageofshamans.Thefunnythingis,myspiritualteacher-shamandidn’tcall
himselfashamaneither–atleastnotwhenIwashangingaround.Hepreferred
nagual.Moreonthatlater.Butguesswhat?Youtoocanbenamedashaman.Ifyou
want,gograbyourselfacandleoralittleincense.Putonsomemoodlightingifyou’d
like.Whateveryouneedtodotogetyourselfinthegroove.Now,ready?Waitforit,
waitforit.Voila!IjustnamedyouaShamanGirl.
Buthere’stherub.OnlyyoucanbeaShamanGirl.Noonecanmakeyouoneorname
youone.You’retheonewhohastoliveit,breathe,it,beit.Ireadilyadmititwas
quitehelpfultohaveMio(myshaman)namemeanagualita.Myegosuddenlygot
veryinvolvedwithsupportingmyspiritualquest.Afterall,Iwasanagualita!Ihad
toliveuptomyexpectationsofwhatthatmeant.AndIlovedallthehoo-haof
apprenticesticks,andblessingswithholywater,andasweetsmellingwoodfire.So
ifyouwantorneedallthat,comeseemeorfindanothershamanwhowilltakeyou
on.Otherwise,saveyourselfthehassleandstartlivingyourdreams,listeningto
yourinnervoice,speakingyourtruth,andexpressingyourselfasonlyyouknow
howtodo.Comeonnow…
GrowingUpinda‘burgh
EverydayIgrowmorecomfortablewithembracingmybadShamangirlself.ButI
haven’talwaysbeenaShamanGirl.BestIcantell(andmymemoryisfuzzyfromso
muchspiritualworkontopofmommybrain),Ihadanidyllicchildhoodinamedium
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sizedhamlet,iePittsburghakada‘burgh,filledwithMuggles.Nobigtraumas,
dramas,orwoundings(amazingIknow).
Igrewuponatree-linedstreet,playingRedLight,GreenLightandMother-May-I
withallthekidsinourneighborhood.TherewasasmallcreekthatIlikedto
disappeartonotfarfrommybrickhouse.
Summerwasforswimmingatourcountryclubforchlorine-soakedhours,then
cominghometocatchfirefliesatnight.Wepassedtimewaitingfortheschoolbusin
thewinterbyplaying“pietag”(stompoutacirclewithcutupwedgesinthesnow
andthenyoucanonlyrunawayfromwhowas“it”alongthetracks)andmaking
snowangels.WemaderegulartripstotheCarnegieLibraryforbooks,whichIspent
manyanhourreadingwithaflashlightundercovers.
Itorturedmylittlebrotherasanybigsisterisobligatedtodoandyetweoftenslept
inthedoorwaysofouradjacentroomswithourheadsneareachother.Hewouldbe
happytofillyouinonjusthowun-compassionate,un-kindandun-saintlyIam
basedonmychildhoodbehavior.Ishuddertothinkofit.Buthey,mostofusaren’t
bornallJesusorBuddha.
Mydadisasweet,quietmanwhomostlyanswers“humph”asacatch-allresponse
toquestionsorasageneralcommentonlife.Andgetthis–he’sanaccountant.An
accountantraisingashamangirl?Preposterousmaybe,buttrue.Heisalsooneof
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themosteven-knelled,acceptingmenIknow.AnexcellentexampleforaShaman
Girlintraining.
Dubbed“Bazer”inhighschoolwhenIfellinlovewiththeChinesewordforfather
“Ba,”alongwithalittleJamesBondcrush.Mybestfriend,Shizido,wasChineseand
mydadwasaChinesechef.Justtobeclear,hewasn’tChinesebutdidgetadiploma
intheartofChinesecookingandbrieflyranaChinesecateringbusiness(ohthe
manyhoursIspentmakingdumplings),butShizidowas.Tothisday,I’lltakeAsian
foodanydayoverAmericanstylecomfortfood.ShizidoandIranwiththemultiethnic-kinda-brainy-oneofeverycliquecrowd(ajock,anartsyweirdo,theonly
Jewishkidinschool,etc).
OneofourbrainyfriendswentthroughaJamesBondphaseanddevelopedcode
wordstoquickly,andsecretly,indicateifwelikedsomeoneornotbasedonthefact
thatJameslikedhismartinisstirrednotshaken.Soifwelikedyou,youbecame
“Megster”or“Burkester.”Ifwedidn’t,“Megshaken.”Juvenile,Iknow,butperhaps
slightlykinderthancomingoutandsayinghowwefelttoyourface.Somydad
turnedinto“Ba”andthenlater“Bazer.”Manymoonslater,ShamanBoy,who
couldn’tquitesayBazerchangeditto“Baba.”Apparentlywewentfullcircle,since
that’swhatChinesebabiesoftencalltheirfathersandShamanBoydevoursChinese,
Japanese&Indianfoodlikenobody’sbusiness.
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BazerwasraisedonamuchmorebasicmeatandpotatoeskindofdietasanIrish
Catholicraisedintheheartofthe‘burgh.Butherenouncedthechurchwhenthe
PopedecreedthatyounolongerneededtoeatfishonFridays.Howcouldone
Fridayitbeasin,andthenextFridayitwasjustfine?Thatjustdidn’tflywithhis
logical,number-crunchingmindthatprefersaslittleconflictaspossible.
Mymomwasanuber-woman/70sfeministwhomanagedtogetherMasters,work
full-timeinasteelmillandthenlaterrunmydad’sbusiness,plusmanagethehouse,
raisemybroandIandvolunteerfortheLeagueofWomenVotersontheside.Oh
yeah,andshehostedtheneighborhoodcookieexchangeeveryChristmasbut
couldn’tbebotheredwiththedomesticartofcooking,soweateourfairshareof
fastfoodandfrozendinners.Mymomisapistolwhotalkstoeveryoneshemeets.
Asquietasmydadis,mymomisequallyoutgoing.Andpleasedon’tmesswithher–
heavenforbidsomeonetanglewithanyoneinherfamily.(Sobookcriticsand
naysayersbeware.Ididgiveyoufairwarning).
Knownas“Wappy”acomboof“wacky”and“happy,”she’sbeenknowntothrowa
dinnerpartyontheflyorpackupuskidsandheadoffonaspurofthemoment
vacation.Cometothinkofit,bothmymomanddadsayhe’sdueforsainthoodfor
puttingupwithherandheranticsforover40years.
Myexposuretoanythingspiritualwasjustaboutnil,andmyreligiouseducation
wassporadicatbest.Iwasbaptized,justtomakesureIdidn’tendupburningin
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hell.AfteralltwoparentsraisedIrishCatholic,evenhavinglapsedfromthefaith,
aren’tgoingtotakethatmuchofarisk–orgivemyratherdevoutgrandmaamajor
coronary.Withtheparentalunits,churchwasonlyonChristmasEve.Whichpleased
usjustfinesincewegottoopenapresentafterchurch.Andasachildwhat’sbetter
thanbeingallowedtostayuppastmidnight,especiallyonChristmas?
Wappydidgiveonehalf-heartedattempttotakeustoaUnitarianUniversalist
Churchforafewmonths.Butsomehowsleepinginwasmoreattractivethan
draggingtwochildrenwhoprotestedagainsttheircartoontimebeinginfringed
uponandahusbandwhoflatoutsaid“humph,”thistimemeaning“noway,overmy
deadbody.”Besides,theSteelersplayedonSundaysandthatwasanear-religious
experienceinPittsburghwitheveryhouseholdgluedtothetelevisionset,
mesmerizedbythefansgoingintoafrenzywavingtheirgoldandblackTerrible
Towels.Itwassounthinkableandsacrilegioustocheerforanyoneotherthanthe
hometownteamthatIdidn’tevenknowsomepeopleliveinsayClevelandbut
voluntarilycheerforthePatriotsuntilIwasincollege.
Savingoursoulsfrometernaldamnationthenfelltomygrandma.Anytimewewere
droppedoffatherhouseontheweekends,she’dsneakalittlereligioninbytaking
usto3a.m.mass.Yep,alongwithallthedrunkswhowouldbeinnoshapetogetup
inthemorningforchurch.Wehatedgettingoutofourwarmbunkbedstogobut
youdidn’tmesswithGram.
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Inahalf-catatonicstate,we’dlistentothepriestchantinLatinasthesmellof
incensewaftedoveroursleepyheads.Whileitwasslightlyembarrassingthatwe
couldn’ttakecommunionandGram’sbestfriend’sgrandchildrencould,weknew
somesalvationwasinsightsincefollowingmasswe’dbeheadingtoEat-n-Park
wherewecouldorderpancakeswithasmuchmaplesyrupasweliked,followedby
aSmileyCookie.Ohyeah,allsugaredupby5am!Unlikeourmomwhoattemptedto
limitoursugarintake,ourgrandmahadahome-basedcookiebakingbusiness
(CookiesbyMyGram)andthoughtadinnerofcookieswasjustfineforherselfand
sugarforchildrenjustmadethemsweeter.Whilewesufferedthroughher
overcookedburgers,boxmashedpotatoes,andsoggygreenbeansfromacanas
Gram’sattemptofahealthymeal,weatleastknewtherewouldbeplentyofcookies
andcandyfordessertifwebelongedtotheclean-plateclub.ButIdigress.
OverallratingforlikelinessofbecomingaShamanGirlbasedoncultural
upbringing?White,middle-classgirlfromsuburbiagrowingupinablue-collarsteel
town,beingraisedbyanaccountantandofficemanager.Forreligiousupbringing?A
fewCatholicChristmasesandmiddleofthenightforcedmarchestochurch.Well,I’d
givemyselfa2outof10.
Rathernormalchildhood,wouldn’tyousay?Butperhapstherewereafewglimmers
ofwhatwastocome.BazerandIjoinedIndianPrincesses,afather-daughter
programthroughourlocalYMCA.BazerandIhadIndianNames(thiswasinthe
pre-PCdaysofusingtheterm“NativeAmerican”nottomentionadvocatingwhite
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folkrunaroundpretendingtobeInjun.)He,BigMatoba!Me,LittleMatoba!That
wouldbeshortfor“MeghanandBazerTogetherAlways,”errorcloseenough.Iwas
neverprouderthanwhenmydadwasnamedchief-whichmeanthegottowearthe
BIGbad-assheaddress,completewithcheaplycoloredfeathers,andIworethe
headbandwithonedinkyfeather–oh,andmatchingvestswithsewn-onpatches.
WedidallsortsoffunNativeAmerican-inspiredactivities–bowling,iceskating,
goingouttoicecream.ButthebestwasgoingofftotheYMCACampDeerValley,
wherethedadswouldstayupallnightplayingpokerandthedaughterswouldtryto
spookeachothertellingghoststories.Wefished,tobogganed,sangKumbayaaround
thecampfire,andwenthorsebackriding(whereIrodetherunawayblackstation
DarthVader,okayIguessIdidhavesometraumainmychildhoodafterall.)Perhaps
thistimecreatedanimprintthatledmetolaterstudywithspiritualteachersinthe
NativeAmericantraditionandcreatecountlessfireceremoniesatmyown
workshops.
IfIrootaroundinmyfamily’spastabitdeeper,thereisthefamilylorethatmy
great-grandfather,whowasabricklayer,waspartNativeAmerican.Iknow,Iknow,
basedonlookingatmypastywhiteskinwillcausequiteabitofdoubttospringto
mind.Andthere’smyfamily’sresilientprideinbeing“almost”100%Irish.Butone
halfofthefamilyclaimsthatmygreat-grandfatherwasNativeAmericanandknew
howtouseherbsasacureandhehadsomesecrettrunkthatcontainedallhis
artifactsandmedicine.Theotherhalfclaimit’sacoo-coostoryandthathewas
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simplypartofoneofthoseold-timeSecretSocietiesofWhiteGuysPretendingtoBe
Native.
Everyoneinthefamilybelievedin“Irishintuition”–aconvenientwaytobrushoff,
withanuncomfortablelaugh,knowingwhowascallingwhenthephonerang,or
runningintoafriendyouhadn’tseeninagesbuthadjustbeenthinkingabout
minutesearlier.
AndtherewasthetimewhenIwasoh,maybe10orso,andWappyhadtakenmy
brotherandItovisitour“Aunt”and“Uncle”(reallyfamilyfriends)inanattemptto
giveBazerabreakattheendoftaxseasoninoneofherimpromptutrips.Ifell
asleepinthecaranddreamtthatBazerwasinacaraccident.Iwokeupupsetand
insistedwecallmydad.Wappyshruggeditoffbutmadethecall.Bazerassuredus
thathewasfine–onlytodiscoverwhenwegothomethathehadbeeninaminor
accidentanddidn’twanttoworryus.CuethethemefromtheTwlightZone.
Pittsburghwastheperfectbreedinggroundforalittleshaman.Oneofmyspiritual
teachersusedtojokethatGodstashedmethere,wherenoonewouldthinktolook,
andthenasacosmicexperimentgavemethemosttrauma-freechildhoodpossible
toseeifit’sfeasibletohavesomeonedeeplyconnectedtosourcewho’sstillinher
body.Asidefromthefunnyaccentthatstilloccasionallypopsthrough(thereisa
wholedialectfromPittsburghthat’sbeenusedtoidentifypeoplewithamnesiaand
causedmanyagoodlaughonmybehalfandsomeconfusion.Forexample,
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apparentlytheproperwaytoaskfortransportationis“Couldyougivemearide
homeplease?”insteadof“Canyouridemehome?”whicharoomfullofsemi-drunk
collegeguysfoundtobequiteamusing.Youwanttogodowntownnot“dahntawhn.”Andmostgrocersseembaffledifyouaskfor“chipchoppedham”anywhere
outsidetheThreeRivers.)Yearslater,Iwasinabarhavinganunlikelyconversation
withoneofmystraighterfriendsabouthowevolutionaryvisionariesclaimthat
PittsburghwillplayapivotalroleintheMayanCalendarPropheciesof2012.Ifyou
wanttoventuredownthislineofthought,thenatives,wholivedwheretheThree
RiversconvergedowntownwerepredecessorsoftheMayansfromtheYucatan,and
aportaltouniversallightwillopenwhenthecalendarends.Farfetched?Idunno.
Butthat’smytawhn.
Alljokingaside,ithasn’tbeeneasytoclaimmyinnershaman.That’sbecausethe
mostpronouncedcharacteristicthatI’vecarriedfromchildhoodandworkedhard
toshakeeversinceismyinnerGoodGirl.
FromGoodGirltoShamanGirl
Iamhunchedovermyschoolprojectinthemiddleofourlivingroom.Mostlikely,
mytongueisstickingoutthesideofmymouthandmybrowisfurrowedin
concentration.I’vebeenworkingonamapoftheearlyexplorer’sroutesforhours
now.First,readingandresearchingtheroutesfrommy4thgradesocialstudies
book.ThendrawingouttheOldWorldandNewWorldinpencil.Carefullyaddingin
Magellan’s,Cortezs’,andPoncedeLeon’spaths.Finally,colorcodingallthe
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journeys,oceans,continents.It’swaypastmybedtime.I’mgettingtiredand
Wappy’svoicekeepspunctuatingmyconcentrationimploringmethatit’sbeautiful,
it’sgoodenough,it’stimeforbed.
Iamontheverylastlinesandverypleasedwithmyperfectwork.Iamcertainthatit
willbeoneofthebestintheclassandIwillgetanA,maybeanA+.Justthen,Imess
up.Areddashbecomesmixedupwithanorangedashdashdot.Tearswellupinmy
eyes.I’vejustruinedthewholething.I’llhavetostartover!There’snowayIcan
turnthisin.
Wappycomeupfrombehindmeandonceagainadmiresmywork.Nottheleastbit
artistic(atthetime),sheisalwaysamazedthatIcandrawmorethanstickfigures.
HerpraisescutsintomesinceIknowit’snotgoodandnotperfectandIwailabout
justmessingitup.“Ohhoney,it’sfine.Wecanfixitwithalittlewhite-out.And
really,it’stimeforbed.Youhaveschoolinthemorning.”Wappygoesoffinsearchof
white-outasIstewatthissolution.White-outisnotperfect.White-outisugly.
Icarefullyapplythewhite-out,waittheinstructedfewminutes,andapplythe
correctcolors.Prissytearsspringoutofmyeyes.Thewhite-outlookslikescarsand
thecolorsoftheroutesarenolongerconsistentoverthewhited-outareas.Thereis
nowayIcanturnthisin.
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Inbetweensobs,ItellWappythatIneedtostartagain.Wappygivesavalianteffort
inattemptingtoconvincemethatit’sfine,itdoesn’tneedtobeperfect,sleepwouldbe
better.ButIwon’tbudge.DidImentionthatIrishstubbornnessalsorunsinthe
family?Icanonlyimagineheranguishintryingtoappeartotakeasillysocial
studiesprojectasseriouslyasmy9yearoldselfdoes,seeingmebeatmyselfupfor
aninconsequentialmistake,andherowndesiretojustbeabletogotobed.But
Wappyfinallyrelents,runstothestoretogetanotherpieceofposterboard,andI
startagain.
ThesecondattemptgoesabitfastersinceIalreadyhavetheexperienceofthefirst
explorer’sboardundermybelt.Wappyofferstohelpbutmostgivesmoralsupport
sinceIknowhowlittleshethinksofherartisticabilities.Finally,nearingmidnight,I
amdone.Perhapsit’sslightlysloppierthanmyfirstattemptbuttherearenoglaring
mistakes.TheGoodGirlismore-or-lesssatisfied(shecouldalwaysdobetter)and
dropsoffintoafretfulslumber.Ofcoursealltheworryingandstressisfornaught.
Finalgrade?A+.
LookingbackatmychildhooduptothetimeIbecomeayoungadultexhaustsme.I
wasgoodateverythingIdid–mostlyfromsheerwill,effort,anddetermination
(andperhapsgivinguponanythingIwasn’timmediatelygoodat).Ifyouputinhour
afterhourafterhourofstudying/practicing/working,therewasn’tmuchthat
couldn’tbeaccomplished.Iexhaustedmyselftogoaboveandbeyondonevery
paper,everyartproject,everysport,everyafterschoolactivity.Icouldn’tjustbe
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partoftheclub.IwantedtobePresident.Icouldn’tjustcompletethe25-page
assignment.Ihadtowrite40-pagesandincludeAppendicestoboot.Iwantedtowin
everymedalandawardoffered,notjustplaywellorhavefun.Andofcourse,Ihad
tofoldeveryshirtandpairofpantspreciselyformyfirstjobatTheGap(forwhere
elsewouldaGoodGirlwithapreppywardrobeworkintheearly90s?).
Adultsofcourselovedme.Iwasveryearnest.Iworkedhard.Isuckedupto
teachers.IwastheGoody-Two-Shoes.It’sawonderIhadanyfriends.
IoftenwonderhowIbecamelittleMissPerfectionist.Myparentswerebynomeans
thepushyourchildrentotheirlimitsandhavethembeOlympicAthletesbyage4or
raiseanuber-nerdtowintheSpellingBeetypes.Theywerecertainlyencouraging
andproudofallouraccomplishments.Theysupportedusinwhateverwewantedto
do.SomehowItooktheirpraises,gobbleditup,andwantedmore,more,moreand
thoughtthewaytoreceivethatwastobemoreperfectlyperfect.
Byhighschool,allofmyhardworkledtoalotofmigraines,mononucleosis,anda
bookshelfofribbonsandawardsfromswimteamtoPennsylvaniaStateScience
Fair’sPsychologyAward.Bymysenioryear,Ihadovera4.0GPA,graduatinginthe
topthreeorsoofaclassofseveralhundredstudents.Howsickisthat?Howdoyou
evengetmorethanaperfectGPA?Well,mostlybydoingreamsofhomework,
studying,stressingoutandstudyingsomemore.
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Towardtheendofmysenioryear,Iwascalledintotheprincipal’sofficetodiscuss
an“importanturgentissue”–anunheardofoccurrenceformeunlessitwasto
receivesomepraiseoraward.Apparentlybetweenhavingmonoformonthsand
missingschooltoattendExplorer’sBoardMeetings(asanofficerofthecity-wide
organization,IwasonitsBoardofDirectorsoh-la-la…snore),Itechnicallymissed
toomanydaysofschooltograduate.Luckily,myGoodGirlcharmprevailedasI
sweetlypointedoutthatIhadbeenexcusedbydoctorsandapprovedforabsences
bytheschool’sadministration,batandeyeandlookinnocent.Andhowcouldthey
keepbacksomewithamorethanperfectGPA?Witha“Ijustneedtobedoingmy
jobenforcingtherules”warningandpatontheback,Iwasheadedtoofftocollege.
Allthehardworkdidpayoffintheformofafullscholarship,roomandboard,and
smallstipendtoanexcellentschool.GoodGirlofcourseagonizedfordays.Giveup
thepossibilityofgoingtotheIvyLeaguesthatIhadbeenacceptedto?IvyLeagues
areGoodGirlCrackCandyallwrappedupinabow.Orgotoasecond-tierschool,
havenodebt,andbeabitofahonchointheArchitectureSchool?FinallyWappyand
Bazerputittomelikethis,“Youcanbearichgirlatagoodschoolorapoorgirlat
anIvyLeague.”Ofcourse,theultimateGoodGirlcamethrough–pickingrichgirlat
goodschoolandrelievingmyparentsthefinancialburdenofhavingtofigureout
howtopayforawhoopingcollegetab.
Beforeyouhatemeentirely,letmetellyoutheGoodGirlfaçadecouldn’tbekept
going24-7.LurkingrightbelowtheGoodGirlwasabitofarebel.Okayfine,adeep-
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seatedNaughtyGirl.IquicklydeterminedthatonceIhadsolidlyestablishedthe
GoodGirlmirage,Icouldgetawaywithmurder.Noonesuspectedmeofany
wrongdoing.Afterall,aGoodGirlisn’taBadGirl,ohno.SoIquiteconvenientlyhad
acollegeboyfriendwhilestillinhighschoolthatnooneknewabout.I’dannounceto
myparentalunitsthatIwasgoingdowntoCarnegieMellon’sLibraryat9amona
Saturdaymorningtoworkonmytermpaper.Andyes,MomandDad,thelibraryis
openuntilmidnight.That’swhereallthecollegekidsstudyandbesides,theyhave
muchbetterresourcesthanourlittle,locallibrary.ThenI’djetofftohangwith
collegeboy,maybeputtinginanhourortwoofworkonthepaper,allthewhile
smilingsmuglytomyself.Andofcourseturningina100-pagepaperattheendof
senioryearthatreceivedravereviews.
Still,GoodGirl,orevenslightlyBadGirl,wasalong,longwayfromShamanGirl.Ifat
anypointuptoage25orso,youhadtoldmethatIwouldbecomeaShamanGirl,I
wouldhavelookedatyoulikeyouhadtwoheads.Awhat?Neverheardofsucha
thing.Spiritualitywasfromandforsomeotherremotecorneroftheworld.Going
fromGoodGirl-whocarefullyweighsallprosandcons,consultsherfiveyearplan,
considershowthisimpactseveryoneelseinherlife,anddetermineswhetherchoice
underconsiderationislikelytowinmoreoutsidelove,attention,andapproval–to
ShamanGirlwholivesintuitivelyfromherheart,followsherownblissand
authenticity,andmakeschoicesthatsurpriseevenherself,wasaboutaslikelyasme
winningtheTourdeFrance.Don’tlikepain.Don’tlikeexcessivephysicalexertion.
Don’tlikescreamingfans.Yougetthepicture.Andyetsomehow,somewheredeep
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underneaththeGoodGirlandeventhelittleinnerrebelwasaShamanGirlwaiting
tocomeoutofhiding.
Valedictorian
I’mstandingonthespeaker’spodiuminfrontofaseaoffellowstudents,parents,
andprofessorsonthebacklawnofGivensHall.NamedvaledictorianoftheSchoolof
Architecture,LittleMissPerfectMealsomanagedtobeelectedtodeliverthe
commencementspeech.Thedayisperfecto–justtherighttemperature,asnappy
breeze,WappyandBazerbeamingintheaudience.TheGoodGirlhasbeen
vindicatedfornearlykillingherselftogetthroughcollegewithanearflawless
record.Forfouryears,Ipushed,shoved,cajoled,andsacrificedcountlesshoursof
sleepandfuninordertograduatemagnacumlaudewithanalmoststraightA
average.(Goaheadhatemenow).
Fromtheoutside,Itriedtomakeachievinglookeffortless.Iwantedtobeboth
popularandlikedbymypeers,aswellasdotedonbymyprofessorsasanexcellent
student.IcouldbePresidentoftheStudentCouncilandstillfindtimetovolunteer
toteacharchitecturetoinner-citychildreninafterschoolandsummerprograms.I
couldpullnumerousall-nighterstoensuremydesignprojectshadpizazzandmake
suremystructuralcalculationswereflawlessontheupcomingtest,thenstillshow
upattheweeklyArchitectureHappyHourtohaveabeer.Justone,ofcourse,to
maintainmyGoodGirlimage.(Unbelievablyinthosedays,thewholeschool–from
dean,professors,gradstudentstofreshman–wouldtakeabreakonthestaircaseof
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theschooltodrinkalocalbrew.NoIDrequired.Ididn’tcareforbeermuchbut
lovedthechancetoschmooze.)
AlthoughIhadaplethoraoffriends,Iprobablycameoffasabitsnootytomorethan
onefellowstudentonmorethanoneoccasion.Ok,Idefinitelycameoffassnootyon
morethanoneoccasion.Icouldbecutting,puttingotherpeopledown,eitherinmy
ownheadorwhenbanteringaroundwithfriends,inordertobuildmyselfup.Ihad
plentyofpocketmoneysincemyparentsweren’tpayingtuition,soIcouldthrowa
littlemoneyaroundorcoverafriendwhowasshort,secretlyfeelingalittle
superior.IwalkedaroundthinkingIwasGod’sperfectgift,whilefeelingnotso
perfectatall.
Ontheinside,IwasattemptingtocoverupthefactthatIdidn’tlikemyselfvery
much.Iwasextremelyjudgmentalofanythinglessthan110%.IneverthoughtIwas
goodenough,coolenough,smartenough.IfIjustputinmoreeffort,Ireasoned,I’d
bemorelikedorwouldhavegottentheA++,neverrealizingthatforallmystriving
anddesiretobeapprovedof,anoverachieverisn’tusuallythemostlikedperson
anyway.
PlusIwantedtohidethefactthatIoftenfeltlikeacountrybumpkininthemidstof
moresophisticatedfellowstudents.IarrivedsayingthatIwasfrom“Picksburgh”as
allnativescallourfaircity,notknowingthatIspokePittsburghese,ourveryown
dialectwithitsownquirks.ThefirsttimeIaskedloudlyataco-edparty,“Does
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anyonewanttoridemehome?”acommonphrasinginthe‘burghwasthelast,after
thesuddenrushofmaleattentionandjives.Ilearnednottosay,“Myclothesneed
worshed,”droppingtheinfinite“tobe”aswearewonttodoaroundtheThree
Riversandmanglingthepronunciation.“WorshingtonD.C.”wascorrectedquickly
aswell.Iwantedtoshedmybackwaterskinandfitinwithamoreworldlycrowd,
evenifmymotiveswerebasedonself-judgment.
Allofmyeffortdidhaveapricetag.ThroughmostofcollegeIhadarousingcaseof
chronicbronchitissinceIhadyettodeducethebasicequationoftoomuchstress+
3hoursofsleeppernightforextendedperiodsoftime+gallonsoficedtea≠good
health.Theydohowever=atriptotheinfirmaryinducedbypanic+noteating
beforetakingmedicineasdirectedbylabel+insistenceofsadisticprofessorthat
missingoneclass=onelettergradebelowwhatyouotherwiseearned.Terrorfora
GoodGirlatheart.Sidebenefit,Wappyjumpedimmediatelyinhercarandzippedto
mybedside.Itwasonlyamere10-hourdriveifyoudidn’tstoptopee.Soifyouare
stillabusingyourbodyinwithsomecombooflackofsleep,badfoodchoices,and
toomuchstress,PLEASEslowdownbelowthelivinglifeatthespeedoflightlimit.
I’msureit’ssomebasicprincipleofphysics.Besidesyou’llfeelbetter.
OnthisMaydayhowever,Ifeelgreat.Iamstillstandingafterfourgruelingyears
withlotsoflaurelsrestingonmyshoulders.It’sabitperverse–tobesohappyover
howmuchI’vetorturedmyselfforsuccess.ButIdoglowwithpride,notjustformy
accomplishmentsoverthepastfewyearsbutinanticipationofthespeechI’mabout
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todelivertomysmall,tightknitclassofgraduatingseniors.We’dpracticallylived
togetherintheopenfloorplandesignstudios–wherewecreatedminimaze-like
citiesbypushingtogetherourdraftingtables.Someofushadevencraftedloftsover
ourworkspaceswithbedsinthemsowecouldcrashoutinthemiddleofthenight
insteadofwastingprecioustimetogobacktothedorms.Countlesshoursoflate
nightsbroughtoutthegoofinessinallofus,sowehadbondedoverbrutaldesign
problemsandlaughtertothepointoftearswhenthestressgottobetoomuch.
Isendthespeechout,hopingtotoucheachoneofmybuddies.Thegistofthe
message?Gobeyondyourcomfortzone.Stretch.Trywhatscaresanddelightsyou.
Followyourheartandyourdreams.Ihadconceivedthespeechwithprimarily
professionalgoalsinmind.SinceIwasthree,Ihadwantedtobeanarchitect.I
adoredbuildingwithmycardboard“brick”blocks.Ilovedtodrawandwasgoodat
math.IevenjoinedtheArchitectureExplorersPostinhighschool(whichcracked
meupthathornyteenageboysandgirlswereallowedtobeBoyScouts,butwhenI
was7andwantedtojoinmybrother’stroopbecausetheydidinfinitelycooler
projectsthanGirlScoutpeanutbutterbirdseedpineconefeeders,Icouldn’t).Yet
aftertwosummersinanarchitect’sofficegettingtoknowthebusinesssideof
architecture,IwastoreadytoexploremorethanachildhoodideaofwhatIwould
bewhenIgrewup.Filingcarpetsamplesandwritingtechnicalspecs,thejobsthat
usuallyfalltothelowestmemberofanarchitecturefirm’stotempole,didn’tfireme
up.
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I’vecraftedmyspeechwithreferencestowhatmanyofmyfellowstudentswillbe
doingafterbeinghandedtheirdiploma.Likeme,manyofthemarenotjustgoingoff
toputonasuitinabigarchitecturalfirm.Somearegoingoverseas.Others,likemy
boyfriendatthetime,wereofftoswingahammerforadesign-buildcompany.As
forme,IhadjustdecidedtobecomeamemberofTeachforAmerica,partof
Americorps,theNationalServiceProgram.AfterdebatingbetweenPeaceCorps,
HabitatforHumanity,orworkingforanarchitectinAustralia,IhadselectedTFAat
thelastminutesomehowthinkingteachingelementaryschoolinalow-income
communitywouldbeacontinuationofthearchitectureforkidsprogramsthatIhad
beeninvolvedinthroughoutmycollegeyears,whilealsogivingmeachancetoget
theinsidersscooponcityandcommunitythatwasahugecontrastfrommymiddleclassPittsburghupbringing.
Yearslater,I’lllookbackandseeIwasreallysendingapersonalmessagetothe
GoodGirl,tothepartofmewhothoughtshehadlifefiguredout.GoodGirl!Go
beyondyourcomfortzone!IwantedtheGoodGirltostretchandletgoofhergoodytwo-shoesholdoverme,dictatingwhatIshouldbedoing,whatwastherightthing
todo-evenwhenmyheartbeggedotherwise.Itwasapleatoletgoofmyneedfor
outsidelove,approval,andattentionandinsteaddowhatmademetrulycontentat
heart.
MyspeechwasprimarilyatalkwithGoodGirl,askinghertogobeyondherlimited
comfortzone.Perhapsifshereleasedherdeathgriponme,alittlemoremagic
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mightbepartofmylife.LittledidIknowjusthowfaroutsideofmycomfortzoneI’d
travel–prettymuchthedistancefromplanetEarthtoMars.
WakingUpinVegas
Iseetheglimmeroftwinklinglightsonthehorizon.Myheartpicksupitspace.I’m
abouttopullintoLasVegas.Mycarispackedtothebrim,everyinchcrammedwith
clothes,books,kitchensupplies,andwhateverelseIthinkI’llneedtostartlifeonmy
ownaftercollege.AftercompletingTeachforAmerica’sSummerTrainingInstitute
inHouston,wheretheyattempttotrainyoutobepreparedtobeaneffective
teacherinsixshortweeks,IwasheadingtowhereI’dbeenassignedtoteach–Los
Angeles,theCityofAngels.
IlaterlearnthatanyonewhocheckedoffLAasalocationthatthey’dbewillingtogo
wouldbeassignedtheresincetherewassuchashortageofteachers.Iwasgamefor
goingtoanycityintheUS,justpleasepleasepleasedon’tsendmeanywhererural.I
didn’tthinkIcoulddealwithcountrylife,milesofpasturesand/orwildlife,andno
stimulation.Iwaseager,nervous,excited,andscaredtostartmynewlife.But
fortunatelytherewerestill200+milesbetweenmeandmyfirstdayofschool.For
now,IwasabouttomakeapitstopinVegasbaby.
Ihadmadethecross-countryjourneybymyselfandfeltfairlyconfidentabout
travellingalone.IbrokemytripupsoIhadislandsoffamiliarityalongtheway.
PittsburghtoSt.Louis,wheresomefriendshadstayedaftergraduation.St.Louisto
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Denver,whereIspentafewdaysvisitingmysenioryearboyfriend,Colorado.
DenvertoLasVegas,whereIwouldhookupwithsomenewfriendsfromthe
SummerInstitutewhowerealsoheadingouttoLA.ThenthefinallegofVegasto
LosAngeles.
Colorado,thebf,wasafellowarchitecturestudent,talentedasallgetout,butalso
completelydowntoearth.Hewasabitofananomaly.Fouryearsofbeing
surroundedbyhipsterswhoaspiredtoexudecoolsleeknessinstyleofclothing,
livingquarters,anddesignprojects,Coloradostillworehisworn-inLevisand
scuffedcowboyboots.Hisapartmentwasmoresweetandhomeythantrickedout.
Hecreatedprojectsthathadintegrityandheartinthemandweren’tjustabout
empty,flashydesigns.
Wemystifiedeachotherabit–heinitiallydidn’tbelievemewhenItoldhimabout
firefliesandIthoughthewastellingatalltalewhenheinsistedthatyoucouldsee
theedgeoftheMilkyWay,thecondensedsprinklingofstarsupovertheclear
Westernmountainsky.Hedroveabeat-uppickuptruckwithabenchseatand
insistedIsitnexttohim,tuckedintohisside.Iwashorrifiedthatthiswasnotcool
orcosmopolitan;hewasbaffledthatIdidn’twanttobroadcastouraffectionand
datingstatusthisway.
Despiteourculturaldifferences,weweregoingtotrydatinglongdistanceandthe
summerwasourfirstexposuretonotseeingeachotherformonthsatatime.SoI
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eagerlyboundeduptogreethim,happytoseeafamiliarfaceIlovedafterafew
monthsofcrammingasmuchnewknowledgeaspossibleintomyheadandmeeting
scoresofotherhighlytalentedanddedicatedyoungpeoplewhowereheadingoffto
theirteachingassignmentsalloverourgreatnation.
Forthenextfewhours,Ibabbledaboutallthepeople!!andideas!!andpossibilities!!
thatIhadbeenexposedtooverthesummer.Coloradowasaquietertype,anda
goodlistener,sohegraciouslyallowedmetochatawaymakingacommenthereor
there.Besidesbroadeningmypolitical-socialviewsthroughTFA,Ihadsomehow
pickedupthebookTheCelestineProphecybyJamesRedfield.Thisbookwasfar
afieldofmyusualreadingfare.SolidlyintheNewAgecategory,itdiscussedmany
psychologicalandspiritualideasthatIhadneverconsideredbefore.Thenameless
maincharacterinthebookgoesonajourneytofindandunderstandninespiritual
insightsinanancientmanuscriptinPeruwhileundergoingaspiritualawakening.
Icoulddefinitelyrelatetothemaincharactersincehewasinatransitionaltimein
hislife.AndIwasexcitedabouttheideaofsynchronicity,therealizationthatwhat
seemtobe“coincidences”actuallyhavedeepmeaning.Asourconversationtooka
decidedlylessremovedfromeverydayrealityturn,Coloradobecamefidgety.It
didn’tseemlikeatopicthathewaseagertoexplore.Ipressedonenthusiastically
aboutenergy,andauras,andaligningwiththeuniverse,ohmy.Wouldn’titbe
incredibletoseethisenergy?Toexperienceitforyourself?Coloradoscoffed.It’s
justamade-upstory.It’sfiction,anovel.Thisinvisiblenonsensewasn’tforhim.Ilet
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itgonotwantingtospoilourpreciousfewdaystogether,allthewhilesecretly
hopingthatwhatIreadwasrealandtrue.
Laterthatnightwetumbledintobed.Ourbodieswerealsoclearlyhappytoseeeach
other.WhenColoradolatergotuptogotothebathroom,Ilookedaroundhisroom,
quitecontentandrelaxed.Myeyeslandedonalusciousgreenplantinthecornerof
theroom.Coloradohadagreenthumbandtherewasquitealotoffoliageinhis
small,well-decoratedspace.TheProphecyrecommendedappreciatingthebeauty
surroundingyouasawayoftappingintotheDivine.AsIwasstaringattheplant,
feelingslightlyridiculoustobetryingtocommunewithabunchofleaves,I
suddenlysawahazywhitelightsurroundingit.Startled,Iblinkedandsatup.It
disappeared.Wasitatrickofthelighting?Didasunbeamsuddenlyfallacrossthe
plant?Ilookedoutthewindowandrealizedthatitwasnowdusk.Therewasno
logicalexplanationforwhatIhadjustseen.Isnuggledbackdowninthecoversand
relaxed.Thereitwasagain!Wasthiswhatthenovelhadbeentalkingabout?Was
thisanaura?Didn’taurashaverainbowcolors?Cool!Cool?Real???
Coloradocamebackintotheroom.Eventhoughhehadbeengoneforonlyafew
minutes,itfeltliketimehadstretchedoutforhours.Ibrieflyconsideredsharingmy
experiencewithhim,butthenthoughtthebetterofitafterourearlierconversation.
Besides,Iwasn’tentirelysureIbelievedwhatIthoughtIhadjustseenmyself.
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Overthenextfewdays,themysteriouslightwasquicklyforgotten.Weplayashard
aswecouldknowingwewouldn’tbeseeingeachotheragainformonths.Colorado
tookmehikingandonafulltourofhismountainparadise.Healsoarrangedmyfirst
overnighttentcampingtrip,forwhichhereceivedatonofrazzingfromhisfriends,
sincehepackedagourmetmealtocookoverthefire(hewasanamazingchef)
insteadoftheirusualroughing-ithotdogsandbeer.Heconsideratelyparkedhis
pickuptruckafewfeetfromoursecludedspotinthepinetreessoIwouldn’tneed
toschlepthestufffar.Helovedtheoutdoorsandwantedtosharehislovewithme.I
wasabitnervousaboutthewholeoutdoorscene,butwasgametoexpandmy
comfortzone.
ThedaysflybyandI’mofftomynextstop.Havingleftthesafetyandsecurityof
friendsinSt.LouisandColoradoinColorado,I’mabittrepidaciousaboutthebright
lightsofVegas.Cellphonesareyearsawayfrombeinggluedtoeveryone’shipsoall
Iknowisonthisday,meandmyTFAguyfriendsaregoingtorendezvousatthe
TropicanaHotel.Howisthisgoingtoworkexactly?
Allthesudden,thecityisuponme.Afterdrivingoutinthedesert,withfewcarsand
opensky,thepaceandlightsofthecityhighwayareabitoverwhelming.GPSsaren’t
standardyeteitherandIdidn’thaveadetailedmapofthecity.HowwasIgoingto
findtheTropicana?
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AsI’mspeedingthroughthecity,IdecideTropicanaAvenueisasgoodachoiceas
anytofindtheTropicanaHotel.Yes!Thereitis.Iexitthefastlaneandawidegrin
breaksovermyfaceasIamdumpedintotheTropicana’sparkinglot.Ispyanempty
spotrightbythedoorinanotherwisefullparkinglot.Sofar,sogoodIthinkasI
grabanovernightbagandheadintothehotel.
AssoonasIhitthefrontdoorthough,theuncertaintyrisesagain.Therearean
overwhelmingnumberofflashinglights,clankingslotmachines,peoplejumpingup
anddownexcitedovertheirjackpot.It’shustleandbustleeverywhere.HowwillI
everfindmybuddieshere?Ihavenoideawhatnametheycheckedinunder.
Istandstillfor30secondstogetoriented,contemplatingwhatmynextmoveshould
be.JustthenGuyBuddy1,2,3and4comebarrelingdowntheredcarpet,highfivingeachother.“HeyMeg!”GuyBuddy1greetsme.Guy2thumpsmeontheback,
“Perfecttiming!Comeon!”andIamsweptawayintheirboyishexuberance.The
guyshavebeengamblingenoughtoqualifyforafreenight’sstay.Theyranintothe
hotel’smanagerandwhensheheardaboutthemheadingofftoteachintheinnercity,shecompedallofusallofourmeals.Ifeelintheflow.
AsweheaduptotheirroomwhereI’mcrashingoutonthefloor,Ithinktomyself
withasmileasIdriftofftosleep,“Hey,maybethisisthesynchronicitythatRedfield
wastalkingabout?”Althoughthingshaveusuallyworkedoutmyentirelife,thisis
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thefirsttimeI’mconsciousoftheexperienceandrealizeitdidn’ttakeanyeffortto
accomplish,unlikemyusualstyleofwillfulnessandworktomakeithappen.
HolaCompton
SchoolisabouttostartandI’masnervousasakindergartener.Thepastfewweeks
havebeenawhirlwindoffindinganapartment,fillingoutmilesofpaperwork,and
preppingforschool.AweekbeforeschoolstartsIfindoutthatI’llbeteaching4th
gradeatKellyElementarySchool.Idomyownversionofadrive-by,checkingout
theschoolbehinditshighfenceswithbarbedwireatthetop,onthewayto
ComptonUnifiedSchoolDistrict’sOffices.Themainbuildingoftheschoolispainted
greywithindustrialbluetrim.Overallitlookssolidandstately,yetuponcloser
inspectionthestuccoiscrumblingandthepaintpeeling.AmIteachingataschool
foryoungchildrenoraprison?Themainbuildingalsohidesthefactthatdirectly
behinditareportabletrailersthathavebeenaddedasthepopulationexplodedand
thebudgetdidnot.Iwon’tseemyclassroomuntilmeredaysbeforethekidspourin.
Idrivethroughthesurroundingneighborhood,stickingtothemain,widestreets.
ComptonisknownasoneoftherougherareasofLosAngeles.Itsportsitsshareof
gangs,deadbeatdads,graffiti,andillegalimmigrants.I’mnotbraveenoughto
venturedownasidestreetyet.Themainonesarebadenough,litteredwithtrash
andallofthebuildingsliningthestreethavemetalbarscoveringtheirwindowsand
metalgratesovertheirdoors.Evenprivatehomeslooklikefortresses.Eachonethat
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Ipasshasawalledcompoundorhighfenceandthesamebarscoveringall
entryways.
ThisisthekindofneighborhoodIwouldavoidinPittsburgh(oranyothercity).I’d
makesuremydoorswerelockedandbeelineoutasquicklyaspossible.My
shouldersriseandtummyclenchesthefurtherIventurein.Therearepitbulls
chainedtostakesbarkingatpassingcars.Toughlookingguys,armsandnecks
coveredintattoosthatshowthroughtheirwifebeatershirts,baggypantsexposing
theirunderwear.Ican’thelpbutwonder,willIhavewhatittakestoteachinthis
neighborhood?WillIbeabletorelatetothekids?Howmuchwilltheylearn?WillI
makeadifference?
AsIzipdownthefreewayheadedwest,myquicktourandpaperworkoverforthe
day,Ifeelmynervescalmdown.IamlivinginHermosa(translation:beautiful)
Beachmereblocksfromthewater.Fromtheloftspaceinourpristinewhite
apartment,youcanseethesurfandthesunset.Tomakeitaffordable,I’mrooming
withtwootherTFAteachers,andwearehappywithourfind.Thereareplentyof
restaurantstochoosefromshouldwebetootiredtocookafteralongdayatschool.
Allamenitiesarewithinwalkingdistance,includingacutebookstorethathasa
decentteachers’resourcesection.Iheaddownthehillhappytobeinthesun,ina
clean,carefreebeachtown.
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I’mbrowsingthelocalbookstorelookingforideasonwhatthehecktodowithmy
classwhenIpracticallystumbleoverahighlybuffmanwithbrainyglasses.Helooks
upatmeandsays,“Heydon’tIknowyoufromsomewhere?”Iinwardlyrollmyeyes.
Whatkindoflamepickuplinewasthat?Ireply,“Nopedon’tthinkso.Ijustmoved
here.”“No,Idoknowyou.Weren’tyoujustattheteacher’sworkshopIgaveafew
daysago?”ItakeacloserlookasTeachre-introduceshimself.Yep,herewasselfesteemman,theveteraninner-cityelementaryschoolteacherwhoalsowrote
teacherresourcebooks.HehadjustgiventheTFAnewbiessometoolsandtipson
howtoboostourkids’self-esteemaspartoftheongoingteacherdevelopment
workshopswewererequiredtotake.
IexplainmymissiontofindthepopularmulticulturalkidsbookcalledPeople.Itwas
checkedoutofthelocallibrarysoIthoughtI’dtrythebookstore.Teachchuckles.
Thereasonit’scheckedoutisbecausehehadbeenusingit.Iwaswelcometoswing
byhishouseinthenextsurftownover.Wasthisanothercaseofserendipityora
pickup?Idecide,whynot,sincethisisjustthewaylifeseemstobeworkinginmy
world.Whenhelpisneededsomeoneappears.Iheadovertohispadandgrabthe
book,thankfultohaveaplacetostartwhenmystudentsarriveinafewdays.I’m
hopingthebook,whichexplainshowdifferentpeopleliveindifferentpartsofthe
world,nonebetterorworse,willhelpbridgethegapbetweenmyself,sheltered
whitegirlfromPittsburghandmybrown-skinnedinner-citykids.
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AfewdayslaterI’mfinallyontheschoolgrounds,settingupmyclassroomforthe
year.PureshockgreetsmewhenIarriveatKelly.Notabladeofgrassontheschool
grounds.Fewbooks.Paperissuppliedfrommyownsalary.Oh–andshooting
lockdowndrills,whenaspecialseriesofbellswouldsignaltoslamourmetal,
supposedlybulletproofdoorsshutintheeventofagangshootout.Butnottoworry
theveteranteachers’assuredme,thewindowsoftheclassroomwereplaced10feet
highandrealshootingswereonlyoccasional.Youcouldn’tseeout,butbulletsalso
weren’tlikelytocomein.
Besidestryingtoremember5thgrademathandsocialstudies,whilealsoattempting
tofigureouthowtokeepabunchofunruly5thgradersinline,thebiggestchallenge
wasbeingplacedinabilingualclassroom–theywerebilingual,Iwasnot.My
Spanishconsistedof“hola”(hello),“unacervanzaporfavor”(beerplease),and
“gracias”(thankyou).Twooutofthreeusablephrases(okaythesecondwasquite
usefulafteralongday)-andIwasinchargeofthesechildren’sfuture.
Fortunatelythereweresomekindveteranteacherswhotookmeundertheirwings,
astellarprincipal,andthebuddingfriendshipwithTeach.Hehadtaughtinthe
inner-cityforyearscurrently“doingtime,”ashelikedtojoke,inWatts(yes,asin
theriots)whichwasanadjacent,equallytoughifnotmoreinfamousinner-city
community.Hehadalsodoneworkasaneducationalconsultant,andwrote
numerousteacherresourceguides.Ifoundamentorwhowasfunnyandsupportive
andhadamillionpracticalideastoboot.WhenIwasbaffledathowtocreatean
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effectivedisciplinesystem,heknewwhattorecommend.WhenIneededtorelearn
phonicstohelpoutstudentswhowerebehindgradelevel,hegavemeaquick
refreshercourse.AndwhenIwasjustplainexhaustedandfrustratedandpissedoff
atthesituationthesekidsfacedeverydayandthelittleIseemedtobeabletodofor
them,hehadasympatheticeartobend.Somehowhesawasparkinmethat
impressedhimandheeventuallyaskedmetoco-authorhisnextthreeteachers
resourceguideswithhim.Iwashonored,andabitcrazytoaddthistomynewbie
teacherload,buttheover-achieverinmeofcourseagreedtothechallenge.Iwas
definitelyoutofmyelementworkinginCompton,butdeterminedtomakean
impactonthesekids,soIeagerlyembracedalltheproblemstheybroughttomy
classroomeachday.LittledidIknowthatawholeslewmorechallengeswereabout
tocome.
ShamanGirlintheHood
Overthenexttwoyears,IkeepmyheaddownasIgraduallyfigureouthowto
maintainorderinaclassroomwhilealsohavingthekidslearnathingortwo.I
commutefromHermosaBeachtoCompton,whichisliketravellingfromawealthy,
industrializednationtoathirdworldcountryandbackagaineachday.The
differencesbetweenwhatIwasexposedto(andalsowhatIwasn’texposedto)at
theirage-andwhatmystudentshaveandhaven’tbeenexposedtoismindblowing.
Iknewnothingofgunsordrugsornothavingafullbelly.Althoughmystudents
livedamere25minutesfromthebeach,manyofthemhadneverlaideyesonthe
PacificOcean.Meanwhile,IgrewupinlandlockedPittsburgh,andyethad
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vacationedontheJerseyShoreortheOuterBanksoftheCarolinas,numeroustimes
bytheirage.Itookagroupofstudentswhohadearnedaspecialfieldtriptothe
beachtotrytoremedythesituation.I’mnotsurewhosefaceslitupmore–the
studentsastheydugtheirfeetintothesandandthenrantowardthewater,ormine
withthegratificationofwatchingtheirs.
Ihadgrownupinahousethatalwayshadnumerousnosesburiedinabook.Plus
therewasourweeklyritualofgoingtothehistoricCarnegieLibraryeverySunday.
Yetmanyofmystudents’parentscouldnotreadorwrite.Perhapsthemost
heartbreakingmomentinmyfirstfewyearswaswhenIarrangedanotherfieldtrip
totheLosAngelesPublicLibraryandregisteredeachstudentforalibrarycard.As
thelibrarianhandedeachstudenttheirnewcardwiththeirnameswrittenonthem
alongwiththeirstackofbooks,theybeganexcitedlywhisperingamongst
themselves.Iwassohappythattheywereexcitedtobringbookshometo
householdsthatusuallydidn’thaveany.ThenMarilookedupatmeandasked,“Do
wereallygettokeepthesecards?”Theycouldn’tbelievethatsomeonewouldlet
themwalkhomewithnotjustthebooks,butthechintzyplasticlibrarycards.I
assuredthemthatyes,itwastheirstokeep,andfromthegiddinessoftheirthank
you’syouwouldhavethoughtthatIjustgavethemamilliondollars.Iwasboth
pleasedthattheirworldswereopeningupandsickenedathowlittleopportunity
thesekidshad.WhydidIdeserveastellareducationandtonsofopportunitiesjust
bythesheerfactthatIhadbeenbornintoawhite,middleclassfamilyontheEast
CoastandtheyhadbeenbornbrownandinCompton?
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TeachandIoftendiscussedtheunfairnessoftheeducationalsystem.Hewasfiery
andpassionateandbelievedinbeingafullparticipantinthecommunityinwhichhe
worked.Hisenthusiasmwasinfectiousandappealedtomyidealisticyoungself.
DuringmythirdyearteachinginCompton,Teachdecidedtomovetothehood.Why
shouldusteachersgettogohometoourchi-chicutecommunitieswhenour
studentsandtheirfamilieshadnowheretoescapeto?Wouldn’tweunderstandour
studentsandthechallengestheyfacedsomuchbetterandthereforebemoreableto
addresstheirchallengesifwelivedandworkedinthesameneighborhood?Ifthey
couldhangoutwithusafterschool?
AlthoughIwasskepticalatthewisdomofmovingtoWatts,andmyschoolin
ComptonwasashortdriveawayunlikeTeach’swhichwasashortwalk,itseemed
natural–andexciting-tobemovingintoanextrabedroominTeach’soldbungalow.
IwouldbeclosertowhereItaught,moreabletopracticemystillsparseSpanish,
andIwouldgetarealinsiderslookattheinner-city.
IwasgettingcomfortableintheclassroomsoIwasreadyfortheadditional
challengeoflivingwhereIworked(orclosetoit).WappyandBazer,however,were
naturallyconcernedabouttheirbabygirlmovingtotheheartofgangland.Teaching
thereduringthedaywasonething.Stayingthereallnightanother.
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IpaintedarosypictureforWappyandBazer,camouflagingthetruesituation,not
wantingthemtoworrythemselvessick.WhatcanIsay?Istillcravedtheirapproval
whilealsowantingtoflyonmyown.Itoldthemaboutthekindold-timersacross
thestreetwhohadbeenlivingthereforover50years.Iassuredthemthatthenews
madetheareasoundamilliontimesworsethanitactuallywas.Afterallbadnews
sells.
WappyandBazerwantedtoinvestigateforthemselvessotheycameforavisit.We
peeloffthefreewayandmadeourwayafewshortblockstomysoon-to-benew
home.I’mjabberingawayathowgreatthisis,reallymait’sperfectlysafe,whenwe
pulluptothehouse.IjustaboutmeltintomyseatwhenIseethattherearetwo
policecars,lightsflashing,withaguypressedupontothehoodofthecruiser
spread-eagleaffordingusanespeciallygoodviewofhisCalvinKleinssincehispants
arebeltedaroundhisthighs.Thecopshadperfectlyhorribletimingtodoadrug
bustjustasmymoreprovincialparentsarriveonthescene.Needlesstosay,they
arenotimpressedorpleasedwithmychoice.ButIamabiggirlnowandmymindis
madeup.ShamanGirlismovingtothehood.
Whenoutinthecommunity,IattempttoblendinandpullouttheinnocentGood
Girlcardwhenneeded.AShamanGirldoeswhatsheneedstotogetby.There’s
someproblemwithmyschooldistrictpaperwork.Idecidetodashovertothe
districtofficesbeforeschoolstartsforthedaytotrytosortthroughthelatestsnafu.
Ofcourse,I’malsolostinthoughtaboutthemillionchallengesIfacewithmykids
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andstillwonderingifI’mcrazyformovingtothehood.Ikindasortaknowmyway
tothecentrallylocateddistrictoffice.Afterall,I’mnolongerthenewestkidonthe
block.FlashingcoplightsbreakmeoutofmyreverieandwhenIlookupInoticeI’m
abitlosttoo.
TheGoodGirlinmehatesbeingpulledoverbycops.Thefewtimesithashappened,
myheartstartstopoundandIinstantlygetsweaty.Idon’tliketobecaughtdoing
somethingwrong,becausethatwouldmeanI’mbeingbad.AndaGoodGirlhatesto
becalledoutonbeingbad.PlusI’malittlewaryofcopsinthehood.Thegeneral
distrustofofficersofthelawfrommyneighborshasrubbedoffonme.
Thecopswaggersuptomycarandasksforlicenseandregistration.Thecopasks,
“DoyouknowwhyIpulledyouover?”Ishakemyhead.I’mabsolutelyclueless.I
havenoideawhyI’vebeenpulledover.ThecoppointsoutthatIamdrivingthe
wrongwaydownaone-waystreet.Comptonhastraintracksrunningthroughit
withtheniftyfeatureofone-waystreetsthatrunoneithersideofthetracks.I’mstill
notusedtothistrafficnoveltyandoftenhavegottennervouswhentryingtofigure
outwhichsideofthetracksIshoulddriveon.
Iamliterallyonthewrongsideofthetracks.Myheadistoofulltoseeclearlywhat
isinfrontofme.
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TheofficerpointsthatnotonlyamIdrivingonthewrongsideofthetracks,butI’m
inaneighborhoodthatIprobablyshouldn’tbein.Iapologize.Insteadoffessingup
thatIammereblocksfromwhereIworkdailyandonlyafewmilesfromwhereI
live,ItellhimthatI’mlost.Whichispartiallytrue,butdefinitelystretchingthetruth.
Igivehimmymostpleadinginnocentlook.Itworksitsmagic,“I’mgoingtoletyou
offwithawarning.AndI’dsuggestthatyouleavethisareaimmediately.It’snoplace
foryou.I’mgoingtoescortyoubacktothefreewaysoyou’llbesafe.”
Ithankhimprofuselyandbashfullyfollowhimbacktothehighway.Hepullsoffjust
beforetheentranceandIgivehimawave,getonthehighwayandgetoffatthenext
exitsoIcanmakeittoschoolontime.I’lldealwithpaperworkanotherday.
AsItakeadeepbreathinmyparkingspotwithinthesafetyofourschool’sbarbed
wirefences,Ihavetowonder.AmIonthewrongsideofthetracks?DoIbelong
here?Notjustteaching,butlivingheretoo?
TeachandIaretheonlywhitefolklivinginWatts.Westuckoutlikesorethumbs,
whichprobablywasourprotectionsinceeveryoneknewaboutthewhiteteachers
whowerelivinginthehood.Orperhapsmyguardianangelsmusthavebeen
workingovertime.TeachhadmadefriendswithMoney,anex-badboywhohad
donetimeandwasnowdedicatedtoimprovingthecommunity.Moneyhadthe
biggestmegawattsmileI’deverseenandhisenergysparkedoffofhim.Heregaled
uswithtalesofwhathappenedduringtheriots.Allthecopsclearedoutsoheanda
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friendhookedachaintothebackofhispickupandpulledoffthefrontofanATM,
nettingacoupleK.Whatfuneveryonehad!Itwaslikethebestparty.Hehadno
remorseorevenasecondthoughtaboutwhystealingmoneywasnotthemoral
thingtodo.C’mon!Itwasfree.Youwouldhavetoo.
Moneyconstantlyexpandedmyworldview.Atourhousewarmingparty,Money
arrivedwithhisdaughterMonique,a2ndgradestudentinTeach’sclass.Hewalked
inwithsome40s(gigantic40ouncebottlesofcheapbeer),turnedupthestereofull
blastandheandMoniqueletitrip.Theyhadrhythm.Theycouldmove.Mymouth
fellopenthata2ndgradercouldbustsuchmoves,suchsexymoves,byherselflet
alonewithherdadencouragingheron.Bazerdoesnotdance.Well,hewasagood
sportaboutgoingtoaformaldanceclasswithmeoncewhereIdraggedhimaround
theroomandhetrippedovermyfeet.Money’smoves–andhisattitudeabout
teachinghisdaughtertoenjoylettingherbodymove-definitelyopenedmyeyes.
Whilemyupbringingandsensibilitiessometimesdidn’tjivewithMoney’s,you
couldn’thelpbutlikehim.Hewasagoodguyatheartandvitaltointroducingusto
theneighborhood.Hespreadthewordthatwe’scool–andwe’snottheman,aka
thecops,soweenjoyedbeingmini-celebritiesinthefewsquaremileswetravelled
in.
Inmymixedupmind,mymovingtoWattsmadeperfectsensesinceTeachandI
couldcontinuetowriteresourcebookstogether,whilealsocollaboratingwiththe
4Hprogramathisschool.Farfrombeingaboutfarmanimals,4Hwasfully
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supportiveofourideatohavethekidsathisschooldesignaplaygroundinthe
adjacenthousingproject,whichwasattheendofourstreet.Moneyhelpedconvince
thepeoplelivingintheprojectstosupportandcarefortheplayground.Teach
broughttheprojectcoordinationskillsandIcontributedthearchitecturalknowhow.Iwasstokedtohaveanoutletformyarchitecturaleducationandanotherway
tobecomemoreinvolvedandmoresupportiveofthecommunity.Theplayground
eventuallywasbuilt–thefirsteverdesignedbychildreninhousingprojects-and
thekidsburstwithpride.Thestorywassensationalsowemadethefrontpageof
theLosAngelesTimes,aspotonthelocalnewsshow,andoneofthekidsearneda
triptotheWhiteHouseinhonoroftheirparticipation.
Money’sprotectionofus,however,didnotextendtothecanineworld.Earlyon
whenTeachwasshowingmearoundtheneighborhoodonfootwithTaylor,his
radiantlygoldengoldenretrieveratourside,apitbullcamechargingoutofhisyard
andgrabbedTaylorbyhisneck,shakinghimviolently.Teachsprangintoactionand
wrestledthepitbulloffofTaylorwhileIscreamedattheownerstocallthedogoff.
Taylorwasmiraculouslyonlyscratchedupbutitcertainlyshookbothofusup.Ihad
todragTeachbacktohishousetokeeptheconfrontationfromescalatingtoowners.
GoldenRetrieverswereunheardofinthisneighborhoodandpitbullsalltoo
common.Itcertainlywasarealreminderofthecontrastbetweenourbeachy
neighborhoodandthisinner-cityone.Fortunatelythisviolentattackwastheonly
oneweexperiencedanditdidnotturnmeofffrommovingin.
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PeopleoftenaskmeifIwasscaredlivinginWattsandtheanswerissolidlyano.I
wasnaïveandfromthisignorance,100%confidentthatIwouldbefine.Perhapsmy
strongbeliefmadeitsoasIdidn’tcarryfearwithmeasIranaroundthehood.
TodayIcan’timaginemakingthesamechoiceagain.Ah,tobeyoungandinnocent.
Forthemostpartlifeintheinner-citywasuneventful.Surepolicehelicopters
constantlyflewoverheadataltitudesthatshookthehouse,sirenswailedatalltimes
ofthedayandnight,butyoualsoexperiencedthisinmostpartsofLA.Theonlytime
Ifelttrulyrattledwasononeoftheworstdaysofmylife,whichwasfollowedbythe
worstfewmonthsofmylife.Andthatdelightfuldaystartedwithadeadbodyonthe
sidewalkafewdoorsdown.AlthoughIdidn’tseeitthiswayatthetime,thedead
bodywassosymbolicofwhatwasabouttodiewithinme.Let’sjustsayIdidn’t
writehomeaboutthatone.
FirstDateFight
Wearehurtlingdownthe405towardtheSantaMonicaPier.Thetensioninthecar
ispalpable–amixtureofexcitement,nervousness,whatthehellhaveIgottenmyself
intonow,andawholelotofconfusion.
I’monmyfirstsolodatewithTallDarkMexicanManwhoisalusciousmixofjet
blackhairandcaramelbrowneyes.He’swearingacowboyshirtwithpearlsnap
buttons,tightblackjeans,worn-incowboyboots,andaleatherbeltwithan
enormousovalbuckle.Andyep,he’salsosportingacowboyhat.
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Liketheglowthatfadedaroundtheplant,ColoradoandIdon’tsurvivethe
transitionfromcollegetorealworld.Beingfullyabsorbedinfiguringouthowto
teachdoesn’tleavemuchtimefortripstoseeColorado.Andmyteacher’ssalary
doesn’thelpmatterseither.Mymind,whichispreoccupiedwithdownloadingthe
how-to-teach-in-the-inner-city-program-at-lighting-fast-speeds,doesn’thavemuch
roomtocontemplatespiritualideaseither.WhateverTheCelestineProphecyawoke
inmehasgonedormantandColoradoisanothertimeandplace.SoI’mexcitedto
embarkonawholenewrelationshipwithMr.Mexicowhoisrealandsmellingsexy
sweetintheseatnexttome.
Inthebarrioadjacenttomyelementaryschool,hehashalfachanceofblendingin
ashelivessurroundedbyotherimmigrants,bothlegalandnot,whoareusedto
seeingwesternwearonthestreets.YetsinceheisthetallestMexicanmanIhave
everseen,wellover6feettall,dashinglyhandsome,andcharmingtoboot,heoften
attractsattentioninthehood.Butasweleavethesafetyandcocoonofhisextended
family–whichincludesoneofmyfifthgradestudents,Nieto–andtraversethe
freewaysystemofLosAngelestowardtheocean,Idon’tknowwhethertolaughor
cry.Hewilldefinitelybeoutofplaceinthemoreupscaletrendyneighborhoodon
thewestsideofthefreeway.MexicanManisbothbaffledandfascinatedthatInow
liveinWattsandteachinCompton.I’mstruckbytheironyofnowdoingthe
oppositecommute–frominner-citytobeachtown–togoonadatefromsomeone
wholivesinthehood.
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IamdrivingandMexicanManisintentlytypingawayintotheEnglish-Spanish
translationmachinethatIhavebroughtalong.Normallyusedtohelpmedecipher
homework,tonightI’mprayingthatitwillhelpusgetthroughthisdate.Mexican
ManspeaksonlyafewwordsinEnglishandIonlyknowasmatteringofSpanish.Up
untilthispoint,wehavebeenchaperonedbyNieto’sfamilywhocoachesusthrough
piecingtogetheraroughtranslationtogetuspastthemisunderstandingsand
awkwardsilences.
MexicanManturnsthetranslatortowardsmeandIattempttoreadwhathehas
typedin.Forthepast15minuteshehasbeentryinginvaintoexplainhimself.I
understandthefirstwordhesaid,“Necessita”–need.AndIamfairlysurethat
“pelear”meanstofight.Thereareenoughfightsontheplaygroundtohavemastered
thatone.Forthelifeofme,Ican’tfigureoutwhyhe’ssayingthatweneedtofight.
Notquitemyideaofagoodfirstdate.
Asmyeyesdartbetweenthetranslatorandthecarsinfrontofme,Iseethewhole
phrase,“Necessitaganarparapelear.”Weneedtofighttowin.Ilaughnervouslyat
theabsurdityofthewholesituationandthetruthinwhatMexicanManistryingto
communicate.Itisdefinitelyastruggle.LittledoIknownowwhatIwillendup
winninginthisrelationship–theabilitytospeakpassableSpanishandanenormous
brokenheart.
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MexicanManmadehisgrandentranceintomylifeafewweeksprior.Forthelast
month,mystudentshadbeenbehavingabitstrangely.Agroupofgirlswould
clusteraroundmeandoneofthemwouldworkupthecouragetoaskmeapersonal
question,“Areyoumarried?”“Doyouhaveboyfriend?”“Whereyouliketogo?”I
wouldusuallyblushandmumbleanoncommittalreply,notwantingtosharemy
romanticlifewithagroupof11yearoldsnomatterhowmuchIadoredthem.The
samegirlswouldaskthesamequestionsoverandoverandthenreportbacktoa
groupofboysthatincludedNieto,araremixingofboysandgirlswhousuallyhad
noideawhattodowithoneanother.AnytimeIwasontheconcretejungleofa
playgroundforrecessorlunchduty,therewouldbealotofpointing,wavingand
gigglinginthedirectionofthechainlinkfencethatsurroundedtheschool.ButI
neverpaidmuchattentiontowhat–orwho-wasontheothersidewhenmyhands
werefullrefereeingwhatwasinfrontofme.
OnebrightsunnyFridayafternoon,Icouldn’tresistcallingitquitsfortheweekand
takingtheclassoutforagameofkickball.Iplayedpitcher,myteacher’skeychain
hangingaroundmyneck,bumpingintomewitheverypitch.Theclassseemedmore
rambunctiousthanusualandpronetoburstingintofitsofgiggles.Ihadthefunny
sensationofbeingwatchedandkeptlookingaroundtoseeifIcouldlocatethe
sourceofthefeeling.Noluck.
Eventuallythebellrangandwecalledthegamequits.Myclassswirledaroundme
aswewalkedbacktoourroom.AsIturnedthecorner,myeyeslockedwiththis
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handsomemanleaningagainstthewall,armscrossed,andthetipofonecowboy
bootrestingontheground.Ifeltajoltofenergypassthroughmeandthewhole
worldseemedtosuspendashewatchedmeintenselyasIpassedby.Heexuded
confidenceandmachismo.Hismasculinityradiatedoffhimandseemedtoaffect
eventhoseinmypre-pubescentparty.Severalofmystudentscalledouttohim,and
hetippedhisperfectlywhitecowboyhat,withonecornerofhismouthturningupin
anamusedgrin.ThegirlsflushedalmostasmuchasIdid.
AsI’msayinggoodbyetoapileofjostlingbackpackswhoarealleagertobesetfree
fortheweek,Ana,Nieto’smotherapproachesme.Forthepastfewmonths,wehave
beendoingoutbesttoconverse.AlthoughAna’sEnglishisbrokenbut
understandable,NietoisquiteshyandhardlyspeaksinclassinEnglishorSpanish.
Nietoisobviouslybrightandmakesaneffortonpaperandisanincredibleartist,
butAnaisworriedabouthim.Andrightlyso.
WhatI’vebeenbattlingforthepastthreeyearsisamixedupmessoflanguageand
abilities.Somestudents,likeAlejandro,couldreadandwriteinbothEnglishand
Spanishata12thgradelevel.Others,likeJose,didnotknowhisalphabet-ineither
EnglishorSpanish.Letmerepeat–Iwasa5thgradeteacher,supposedlyteaching
5thgradestudents.Mostofthe33othersweresomewhereinbetween–notat
kindergartenlevelandnotathighschoollevelbutsolidlyscoringat2ndgradelevel
ineitherEnglishorSpanish-butnotboth.
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That’sright,Iwasinaroomwith35children,expectedtoraisetheirtestscoresat
leastonegradelevel,andmostofthemIcouldn’thaveacomprehensible
conversationwith,letalonegiveatextbooktoreadbecausewell,therewerefew
textbooksandmostofthemcouldn’treadthem.Oh–andmybilingualassistant
comesintomyclasstohelpabout4hoursaweek,that’sifnootherteachersor
administratorsintheschoolneedhimmorebadly.I’vebeenhandlingallthese
factorsfairlywell,fueledmostlybyyouthfuladrenalineandsteelydetermination.
ButthecracksinMissPerfectOverachieverGoodGirlareabouttoshowrealsoon.
AsAnaandIfinishupourconversationabouttheweekandthisweekend’s
homework,Anamotionsthetall,dark,handsomemysterymanover.“Deeseezmi
cuzin.”MexicanManreachesoverandtakesmyhand,notsomuchinahandshake,
butliftingthebackofmyhandupintheair.Forasecond,Ithinkhe’sgoingtokiss
myhand,whichIfindtobesupremelyawkwardinfrontoftheremainingstudents
whoarelingeringaroundtowitnessourinteraction.Atthelastmoment,Mexican
Mandipshisheadandbowsslightlyforward.Howchivalrous-Ithink.
MyheartisnowpoundingandIdistractedlynodatAna’sinvitationtocomeoverto
theircasa.We’vebeenmeaningtogettogethersothatIcanpracticemySpanishand
sheherEnglish.MexicanManfinallyreleasesmyhand.Inarush,Iseethewhole
picture.Inthistightknitcommunity,ofcoursethechildrenknewaboutthenew
arrivalfromMexico.Hemustbetheonewho’sbeencheckingmeoutfromafar
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givingmethebeingwatchedsensation.Andmyninoshavebeentryingtoplay
matchmakerwithalltheirprobingquestions.
AnasetsadateinSpanish–thisSundayat3pm.Shewillmakesomethingspecial.I
praythatIunderstoodhercorrectlyanddon’tshowuponthewrongdayortime.
SundayrollsaroundandIarriveattheaddresslistedonNieto’srecordsandittakes
meafewminutestorealizethattheyliveinasmallbackhouseintherearofthe
mainlargerone.IstepinsideandIhavearrivedinanotherworld.Ana,herhusband,
their3children,andapparentlyMexicanManliveina2-roomhouseonlyslightly
largerthanmybedroom.Theirkitchenistinyandlong,theirbedroomoffofthe
kitchen.ThereseemstobeanenclosedporchwithacouchandTVthatIassumeis
whereMexicanMansleeps.
Anamakesintroductionsonceagainandapologiesforthestateoftheirhouse.
Amazingaromaswaftfromthestoveandsomehowshemanagestogetallofus
aroundatinytable.ThefamilyandItradequestionsbackandforth,eachofus
fascinatedbytheforeignnessoftheother.AnaandNieto’solderandmore
gregariousbrotherhelptranslateasneeded.Wesomehowmanagetounderstand
eachother–moreorless–althoughthereisalotofglassyeyesandheadnoddingto
half-understoodquestions.Yetthereisalotoflaughterandwarmthtoo.
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ThefamilyseemstotrulyappreciatethatNeito’steacherwouldtakethetimeona
weekendandvisit.AndItrulyappreciatetheirwillingnesstoletmestepintotheir
worldandunderstandtheirsituationfromaclearerpointofview.Farfromthe
assumptionsImadeaboutinner-cityparentsnotcaringornotbeingeducated
enoughtohelptheirchildren,thisfamily,likethevastmajorityofmystudents’
families,caredeeplyandwantthebestfortheirchildren.Theyarejustunfamiliar
withtheAmericanschoolsystem,inanextremelytoughandunforgiving
neighborhoodstrugglingtomakeendsmeet,andoftenlostinhavinganychanceof
communicatingwiththeschool.
Nieto’sfamilyopenedadoorwayintotheirworldandindoingso,Isteppedintoa
dreamthatwouldchangethecourseofmylife.ShamanGirlisabouttogetschooled
onthelanguageoflove.
LA-LALand
Fortheremainderoftheschoolyear,MexicanManeducatesmeinallsortsofways.
IenteraMexicaneducationcrashcourserighthereinthegoodoleUSofA.Forthe
pasttwoyears,myfocushasbeenprimarilyonwhatIcancontrolanddealwith
withintheconfinesofthefourwallsofmyclassroom.NowI’mabouttoheadout
intothecommunityandplungeheadfirstintoaworldthatisutterlyforeigntome.
First,IlearnthatIamagringa–awhitegirl.Normallyusedinaslightlyderogatory
manner,MexicanManandhisfamilyuseitasatermofendearmentaroundme.“Eh!
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Lagringaestaaqui!”Thecallannouncingmyarrivalwouldradiatedownthe
drivewayandaroundtheextendedfamily’sclusterofhomeswheneverIpulledup
totheircompound.
IameducatedinallsortsofMexicanfood–posole,friedporkskins,tripe.Iam
invitedtoallsortsoffantasticalparties.Therearethewhynothireatacotruckto
appearinmybackyardandfeedawholevillageparties.Thereareconfirmation
partieswheremygirlstudentsappearinthefrilliestfrocksIhaveeverseen.There
arelittlekidbirthdaypartiesfullofpiñatasfilledwithcandyandthefanciest,
sweetestcakesIhaveevertasted,completewiththetraditionofsmashingthe
birthdayboyorgirl’sfacerightintothemiddleofthecakeandthendistributingthe
mangledpastrytotheguests.Andtherearethequinseanos,theMexicanversionofa
sweet16party,onlythishappenswhenthegirlsturnsweet15.Theirdressesare
somewhereinbetweenapromdressandaweddingdress.Andeventhoughmostof
thesefamilieshavetroubleregularlypayingrentorputtingsufficientfoodonthe
table,somehowtherearealwayslimosandmariachisanddancehallsdeckedoutin
hundredsofballoons.
Myeducationdoesn’tstopwithfoodandfiestas.Idiscovertheproperwaytodress
whengoingouttoaMexicannightclubinLA.Normallyalittlegringa-esqueinmy
styleofdressing,Ipreferredallmypartsamplycoveredandmyskirtstostopabove
myknees.Notonetoshopmuch,whenIdoit’susuallyinamall.Iwasboth
delightedandhorrifiedwhenMexicanManwhiskedmeofftoEastLAafterdeeming
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myprettymuchnon-existentsexyclothingwardrobeunacceptable.Shortshort
dressesinexuberantcolorswithplentyofrufflesflutteredinthewindasthestores
displayeditswaresoutside.
AftercringingatmanyofMexicanMan’ssuggestions,Ifinallysettledonasimple
shinyiridescentgreendresswithspaghettistrapsthatshowedagreatdealofthigh.
ClosertowhatIwouldnormallyconsiderlingerie,Ihadneverfeltsonaked,andyet
sohotatthesametime.MexicanMan’sear-to-eargrin,quiteabitofcajoling,and
theassurancethatalltheotherwomenattheclubwillhavejustasskimpyclothing
finallyconvincesmetomakethepurchase.TheonlyshoesIownaresensible
teachingshoes,soapairofheelsisinordertoo.
Mynexttraininginvolveslearninghowtodancethequebraditainsaiddressand
wobblyheels.Weenterthenightclubandassoonasmyeyesadjusttothedimness,I
seesparkles.Thereistheshimmerofthetoonumeroustocountdiscoballshanging
overthedancefloor,whichreflectsoffofthebodyrevealing,booty-liciousdresses
andtheshinybeltbucklesandspitshinedboots.Asensuousnessandsexinesshangs
intheair.WhileWappyandBazerregularlyembarrassedmyselfandmybrotherby
holdinghandsunderthetableorgivingeachotherslightlytoolonggoodbyekisses,I
cannotbelievehowtightlycouplesclingtoeachotherorhowblatantlyeroticsome
dancersare.Lagringaisabitprudishafterall.Andeverythingisamplifiedbythe
mirrorsthatlinethewalls,multiplyingthisutterlyunfamiliarscenetome.
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Themusicisbeyondloudwithathumpingbassline.Myheartpoundswithit.WillI
beseenasanimpostor?Anintruder?OrcanIblendin?Atleasttherewon’tbemuch
conversationthatIwouldhavetopretendtounderstand.Icansmileandnod.Both
dancersandsingersregularlyemitloud,“Aiiii-aii-yiiii-yiii!”orcallsthatapproximate
coyotehowls.
BynowIcanpickoutquiteafewofthewordsinthetunes,whicharefulloftales
aboutloveandlossandyearning.MexicanManguidesmetothedancefloor.Iam
infinitelygratefulthatheandIhavebeenpracticinginthedrivewayandthat
dancingquebraditameansMexicanManisholdingmeastightaspossiblewithmy
thighwedgedbetweenhislegs.IfIcanjustrelaxandfollowhislead,he’llpractically
becarryingmearoundthedancefloorandIwon’tmakeafoolofmyselfinthese
heels.
Themusicslowsdownandquietshalfadecibelforaslowersong.“Shhhhtranquilo,
tranquilo.”Easy,easy,MexicanManwhispersinmyear.Ihaveyettomasterthe
effortlessnessneededtotrulyflauntthisstyleofdance.
“Chiquitita.Tanchula.Tanpreciousa.Mireina.Misol.Miluna.Teadoro.Teamo.Eres
mivida.”Mylittleone.Socute.Soprecious.Myqueen.Mysun.Mymoon.Iadore
you.Iloveyou.Youaremylife.Comingfromanyotherman,especiallyinEnglish,I
wouldhavegagged.ButhearingthesesweetwordsrolloffMexicanMan’stonguein
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sexysoundingSpanish,nexttohispoundingheart,lullmeintoastateofblissful
stupor.
Mylanguageskillshaveincreasedgreatly.ExceptforoneofMexicanMan’suncles,
Tio,whohasathickaccentandanunfamiliardialect,Icatchthedriftofmost
conversations.TiolikestoteaseMexicanManandmethatwehaveinventedour
ownlanguage.Andit’strue–wespeakacomboofEnglishandSpanish,mostly
Spanish.TherearemanywordsthatIbutcherandmygrammarisallbasedon
inference,sothereareplentyoftimeswhenMexicanMancanunderstandmeonly
duetosheerdeterminationandfamiliaritywithmymess-ups.Wealsoseemtobe
abletoprojectideastoeachothermentallyandpantomimetheresttofillinthe
gaps.Iamofficially,full-on,inlovewithaMexicanwholivesontheothersideofthe
tracksthantheworldIamaccustomedto.
Icanrelatetothelightsthatwhirlandspinacrossthedancefloor.Theremustbea
patterntothem,buttotheuntrainedeye,theylookratherchaoticandproducea
feelingofslightvertigo.Afewyearsago,Ididn’trealizethatHollywoodwasinLos
Angeles.IfeltshockedeverytimeIsteppedofftheplaneafteravisithomeandwas
greetedwithpalmtrees.Now,I’mfullyimmersedinlivingandteachingonwhat
seemslikeanotherplanet.Mostdays,IfeellikeI’mlivinginadream.I’msomewhere
offinla-laland.TheGoodGirlhasmovedthroughlifeontopofhergame,incontrol
ofeachsituation,andfamiliarwithherenvironment.NowIregularlyfeelslightly
outofcontrol.I’mnevercertainifItrulyknowwhatisbeingsaidaroundme.
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Beyondthelanguagebarrier,thereisalsoaculturalbarrier.EvenwhenIcatchthe
majorityofaconversation,IstillfeellikeIammissingsomething;thatthereare
unnamedrulesandtraditionsthatIdon’tgrasporplowrightover.LivinginWatts
hasaddedtomysenseofun-stabilitywithyetanotherculture–primarilyAfrican
American–andtheregulargunshotsandhelicopters.It’sexhilaratingtoletloose
withMexicanMan.It’sthrillingtobelivinginaneighborhoodthatIhadpreviously
onlyheardaboutinthenews.AndyetIfeellikeahazycloudofconfusion
permanentlylivesaroundmyhead.
Someofthemisunderstandingshave,ofcourse,beenhilarious.LikethetimewhenI
askedMexicanManhowheusedtomakealivinginMexicoearlyoninour
relationship.“Brogas,”hereplied.“Drogas?”IsquealedafraidthatIwasdatinga
drugdealer,bothmisinterpretinghimandnotbeingabletopiecetogetherhowhe
claimedhehadlotsofmoneyinMexicobutnotsomuchhere.“Bbbrrr-ogas,”he
enunciatesmoreclearly.Landdeals.Andthengivesmealectureonhow
disappointedheisthatIwouldeventhinkhemightbeinvolvedindrugs.Whatthe
heckdoIknowinthiscrazydream?
OrwhataboutwhenIhadadoctor’sappointmentandhewantedtocomewithme.I
declined,notwantingtotaketheromanceoutofourrelationship.“Whydon’tyou
wantmetocome?”heasked,unhappytobeleftout.“Estoyembarazada,”Ifinally
admit,believingI’vejusttoldhimthatI’membarrassed.“Mande!!??Chingadera,
Cabron!”heexclaims.“What??!!”followedbymehavingnocluewhyheisnow
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besidehimselfandsputteringwordsthathe’stoldmeladiesshouldneversay.I
repeatthatI’m“embarrassed”stillnotrealizingthatI’musingthewordfor…
pregnant.GoodGod.
“Whyareyougoingtothedoctor’s?”hepresses.NowI’mreallyembarrassedasI
don’twanttotrytoexplainthatIhaveayeastinfection.IstammeroutthatIhavean
infeccion.Lovely.Where?Iindicatedownthere.Nowthelookonhisfaceisofpure
horror.Whatkind?HeofcourseassumesthatIhavesomesortofVD.Ihave
absolutelynoideahowtoexplainyeastinfectioninSpanish.Imuttersomething
aboutwhatyouusetomakebread.Holyconfusing.Ikeeptryingtoreassurehim
thatnoneofthisisabigdeal.HedragsAnaandhisotherfemalecousinsintothe
conversationtotrytofigureoutwhatiswrongwithme.NowI’mtheonewho’s
readytojumpoutofmyskin.Ifinallyextricatemyselffromhisfamilyandgotothe
doctorwhointroducesmetothewondersofMonostat-7.Datinginanother
languagecancertainlybeaconfusing.
MexicanMancallsmetheminuteIarrivehomewantingtoknowtheresultsofgoing
tothedoctor.ItellhimthateverythingisfineandIcangotothestoretogetacream
tohealmyinfection.Yes,Iassurehim,Iwasembarrassed/akapregnant,Iamfine,
andIreallycan’tunderstandwhyhe’smakingsuchabigdealovermebeing
embarrassed.Andwhydoeshekeepbringingupsomethingaboutbabiesnow?I’m
embarrassed.AndI’mnotbeingababyaboutthiswholething!It’sjusthowIfeel.
Getoveritalready.
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HebegsmetotakehimwithmetothestoresohecanseewhatkindofmedicineI
need.IbuysomeMonostatformyselfandsincetheboxisinEnglish,hestillhasno
ideawhatitisfor.Hedecidestobuyaboxforhimself,evenasIprotestthatit’snot
necessary,thathecan’tgetthisinfection(whichIlaterdiscoverisn’tentirelytrue.
Mencangetyeastinfectionsbuttheyaremuchmorecommoninwomen.)Stillhe
wantshisfemalefamilymemberstobeabletotellhimwhatitisfor.Noneofthem
arefamiliarwithAmericanmedicinesotheyarenohelp.
FinallyMexicanManbooksadoctor’sappointmentforhimselfatawalk-inclinicin
thehoodsohecangethimselfcheckedout.Hewantsmetoalsohavean
appointment,butIhavenointerestinexperiencingthedingyclinicespeciallywhen
noneofthisisabigdeal.Wearenowofficiallyannoyedwithoneanother,fighting
withoutalotofwinninggoingon.Hegetsacleanbillofhealth,can’tfigureoutwhy
wecan’tgoatitforaweek,andisconstantlyagitatedbecausehethinkshegotme
preggersandIamblitheaboutthewholesituation.
Finally,thestressistoomuchforhim,andhedisappearstoMexico.
CrackingandCrumbling
I’menteringmyfourthyearofteachinganditfeelslikeitstimeforachange.Kelly
Elementaryhasanewprincipalandit’sjustnotthesameschool.Iwanttotryout
teachinginthesameareaaswhereIwork,soIdecidetotransferovertoLos
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AngelesUnifiedSchoolDistrict,whichisinchargeofWatts.I’malsomotivatedbya
sizablepayraisewithLAUSD,eventhoughnoamountofmoneycanreallyreward
meandmyfellowteachersfortheblood,sweat,andtearsweputin–nottomention
ourownmoneytobuysupplies.I’msaddenedbyleavingaschoolIlove,butatleast
I’llberegularlyvisitingtheneighborhoodwhenIcometohangoutwithMexican
ManwhofinallyreturnedfromMexico.I’msuretorunintomyoldstudentsasI
oftenhaveoverthepastyear.
BynowI’mfairlyusedtothenoiseofcitylife.Thereareoftenpartiesuntilthewee
hoursofthemorning,lowridersracingdownthestreetwiththeirmusicblasting.
Thehomesarecrowdedtogethersowecanheardomesticfightsnextdoor.Andof
coursetherearethesirens,gunshots,andhelicopters.
TodayI’mstartingatmynewschooljustafewblocksoverfromTeach’s.Onceagain,
Ifeelexcitedandnervousaboutthisnewchapterandchallenge.Gunshotshad
awokenmeearlyinthemorning.Theysoundedlouderthanusual,buthey–after
awhileyougrowusedtothemanddevelopacertainwhateverattitude.Idrifted
backofftosleepsinceIwasjustplainexhaustedfromatumultuousfewdays.Ihave
beencryingmyeyesoutheartbrokenandconfused.
Duringsummerbreak,Teach,MexicanManandIgoonaroadtrip.Teachwas
writingafulllengthbookandwantedtodoresearchonMt.ShastaupNorth.Plushe
andIhadbeendreamingofstartinganintentionalcommunityinthearea.Wouldn’t
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itbecoolifwecoulddesignwherewe’dlive?We’dhaveabiggersayinthe
educationofthechildren.We’dlivewithotherpeoplewhowereaspassionateand
committedtoouridealsofadecentlifeandequaleducationforall.
Inbetweenwriting,designingtheplayground,andintegratingourselvesintoWatts
thebestwecould,wehadspentcountlesshoursdreamingupourpieceofheaven
onEarth.Iwasitchingtotravelandseeifthisdreamofourshadanybasisinreality.
MexicanManhadpromisedmehe’dfollowmetotheendsoftheearthandsoIwas
gung-hothatthethreeofusdoanexploratoryexpeditiontothemountains.Ididn’t
envisionmyselfbeingateacherinLAforever,sothistripwouldhelpclarifyour
future.Ididn’trealizejusthowbiganimpactonmyfutureitwasgoingtohave–
launchingmeinacompletelyunseenanddifferentdirection.
MexicanManandIhadbeentalkingaboutgettingmarriedbutIhadsome
reservations.Heisverycharming,andverypersistentandIgetclosetoalmost
sayingyesafewtimes.Thendoubtwouldkickin.CouldIreallybeinalifelong
partnershipwithsomeonefromanotherculture?Wouldourdifferencesbetoogreat
toovercome?Hegrewuponaranchandhadcompleted4thgrade.Ilovedbecoming
partofhiscommunity,butwouldIwanttobecomeafull-fledgedmemberforthe
restofmylife?Andthentherewastheproblemofpicturinghimsittingintheliving
roomofmychildhoodhome.HowwouldWappyandBazerhavearelationshipwith
amanwhospokeonlyafewwordsofEnglishandwasn’tinterestedinlearning
muchmore?EventhoughMexicanMan,TeachandIoftenhungoutintheliving
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roomatmyhousetogether,IsawhowawkwarditcouldbesinceTeachdidn’tspeak
muchSpanishandMexicanManonlyknewafewwordsinEnglish–thoughtohis
credithewasunderstandingmoreandmoreofwhatheheard.
Andtherewerestillsomanyunansweredquestionsandsomuchmystery
surroundinghim.Istillcouldn’tfigureouthowhemadealiving.Heregularly
assuredmethathewasquitewealthybackinMexico,hewasjusthavingtrouble
gettinghismoneyacrosstheborder.Andyetheaskedtoborrowafewthousand
dollarstotidehimoversincehiswealthwastiedupinthelanddealsbackhome.
Ialsocouldn’ttellexactlywherehelived.Althoughhedidn’thaveadriver’slicense
sincehewasn’tlegallyallowedtodrive,letalonebehere,Iwouldcomeandpick
himupwhereverhewasstaying.SometimesitwaswithAna’sfamilia.Forawhilehe
andTiohadaplacetogetherafewblocksaway.Othertimeshewasstayingwith
anothercousinontheothersideofCompton.Iassumedthathewasgettingbydue
tothegenerosityofhisfamilyandyetmostofthetimehehadplentyofmoneyto
takemeoutondates.
SooftenIfeltlikesomethingwasn’tquiterightinourrelationship,butbetween
beingintoxicatedwithnewloveandfeelinguncertainwhetherIreally,trulyknew
whathewassayingandwhatwasgoingonaroundme,Idismissedmydoubts.Any
largermisunderstandingswehadmustbebecauseIjustmisunderstoodwhatwas
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said,right?Andifthatdidn’taccountfortheproblems,thenitmustbebecausewe
justlookedatlifeindifferentways.Plausibletoo,no?
MexicanMancamebackfromMexicoafterourinfectiouspregnancyscare,deeply
apologetic.Hewasfreakedoutandboltedhesaid.Hewantedtoseedoctorsin
Mexicotomakesurehedidn’thavemyinfection.Itwasn’teasyforhimtogetback
acrosstheborder,whichiswhathadtakenhimsolong.Wouldn’tIpleaseforgive
him?Helovedmeandwasdeeplysorryifhecausedmeanyhurt.
Thistripwasn’ttheonlytimeMexicanManhaddisappeared.Therewasaweek
whenIdidn’thearfromhimandthengotacalltellingmethathewasvisitinga
cousinwhowasanitinerantworkeroutinVenturaCounty.Ordaysonendwhere
he’dcallandsayhecouldn’ttalk,buthehadmajor“Ganasaverte”–needtoseeme
andhe’dbebacksoon.
Thebizarrestexplanationcameafterhetoldmethathehadjustbeeninthe
hospital.CouldIcomeovertoseehim?Iarrivedathisbedside,shockedtofindhis
nosebandagedandhisarminasling.Whattheheckhadhappened?Alittleoutofit
onpainkillersandstillworkingtocompletelyunderstandingSpanish,Ipiece
togetherthatsomehowhewasinthewrongplaceatthewrongtime.Hehadtriedto
breakupafightandendedupgettingshotinstead.Shot??Hewasfine,realymi
amor,justabitincapacitated.LifewasalwaysalittlelocoaroundMexicanMan
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betweenhislarge,loudchaoticfamilyandthecrazinessIfeltfrombeinginawhole
newworld.
Still,Iwassmart.UnfortunatelyIwasvaledictoriansmart,notstreetsmart.Ishould
haveknownbetter.AndIhavetosayIhadfairwarning.Besidesnumerouspleas
frommyintuition,whichIcompletelyignored,TiopulledmeasideonedaywhenI
waswaitingforMexicanMantomeetme.Usuallyajovialguywholovedtolaugh
andjoke,hisfacelookedquitesober.TiokeptsayingthatMexicanMan“Noesta
buenoparati,”nogoodforyou.TiorattledonbutwithhisaccentIhadabsolutelyno
ideawhathewastryingtogetacross.Nervouslyhe’dlaughandIwouldtoo.Not
sureifitwasajokeorifhereallyhadsomethingtotellme.
MexicanManwasslickandeverytimeIhadaquestion,hehadasmoothanswer.
Theearringonhiswindowsill?Hiscousindroppeditandheputittheretogiveback
tohernexttimeshecameover.Thewoman’sclothesinhiscloset?Hiscousincame
overtotakecareofhimandstayedthenight.Afunnyfeelingstirredinsideofme.So
muchdidn’tseemright.ButIlovedtheromanceofthewholesituationandwould
justifyanymisunderstandingsmustbebecauseofthelanguage/culturalbarrier.
Right?
Inmydarker–orperhapsclearer–moments,IwouldwonderifMexicanManwas
tryingtousemeforagreencard.ThenI’dberatemyselfforhavingsucha
stereotypeofthemanIloved.
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TheroadtripwasfastapproachingandMexicanManwastryingtobackout.He
couldn’tgetawayforaweek.Hisfamilyneededhim.Toomuchwasgoingon.The
moneyfromMexicowouldbehereanydayandheneededtobeheretoreceiveit.I
wasgrowingincreasinglyfrustrated.PerhapsIwantedhimtoprovehislovetome
bygoingonthistripsoIcouldprovetomyselfthatitwasallokay.SoIpulledan
ultimatum.Ifyouloveme,thenyou’dwanttogoexploreourfuturetogether.Finally,
hereluctantlyacquiescedtomydemands.
MexicanMan,TeachandIallgotintoourrentedmini-vanandheadedNorth.
ThroughoutthetripMexicanManseemedpreoccupied.Heoftentookcallsand
woulddistancehimselffromthecar,talkinginalowvoice.WheneverIaskedhimif
everythingwasokay,hewouldsmileandreassuremethateverythingwasfine,just
somefamilyproblemsathome.
Mt.Shastawasundeniablygorgeous.Wecampedunderredwoodsandhikedthe
trails.Thesurroundingswereidyllic,butthecompanyalittlestrained.Ifitwas
slightlyawkwardbetweenthethreeofusintherelativefamiliarityofhome,thenit
wasreallystrangetobestuckinacartogetherfor12plushourswhenonlytwoof
uscouldeasilycommunicateatanyonetime.Therewasalwaysanoddmanout,and
Iwasalwaystheonewhohadtotranslateeverythingandtrytosmoothoverthe
inevitableflare-upsthatariseonacartripwithtwostrongmales.
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WhilespendingafullweekwithMexicanManwasatreatsincetherewereoften
chunksoftimewhenMexicanManandIdidn’tseeeachother–mewithmyprojects
andchockfullscheduleandhimwithhisfamilydramasanddisappearances.Yet
smallincidentsweretelling.Onemorning,MexicanMangrabbedasizablepinetree
branchandstartedsweepingoutthecar.“Whatareyoudoing?”Isquawked,
nervousthatTeach,wholovedeverythingtobeneatandorderly,wouldhavea
conniptionifhesawMexicanMansprinklingpineneedlesandsapinthecar.
MexicanManlookedatmeblankly.“Cleaningthecar,miamor.”“Withthat?”Iask
withalookofconfusiononmyface.“Si,mireina,thisishowwedoitathome.”
Apparentlythepineneedlesactasabrushwiththeaddedbonusofafreshpine
scent.Madeperfectsense,andyetneverinamillionyearswouldIhavecomeup
withthatsolution.
WemadeourwaybacktoLAsinceschoolwasabouttostartinaweekorsoandI
wantedtobewellpreparedformynewassignment.Overall,wedeemedthetripa
success.Teachcollectedthematerialheneededforhisbook.MexicanMan
proclaimedhe’dbejustfinelivingintheareawithouthisfamily.AndIfellinlove
withthemountainsandwasexcitedatthepossibilityofstartinganintentional
communitywithmybestbudTeachandmymainmanfromMexico.Somehowwe’d
workitout.
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Yetwhenwearrivedhome,therewasabsolutelynowayIcouldhavebeenprepared
forwhatfacedme.LiketheearthquakesthatregularlyshookthisCityofAngels,the
cracklingandcrumblingofmyworldwasabouttopullmeapart.
LivingtheVidaLoca
Myansweringmachineisflashingwithtworeddashes,meaningthatit’sentirely
full.Howwasthatpossible?Iwondered,tryingtomentallyworkthroughwhocould
haveleftthatmanymessagesgivenMexicanManandTeachwerewithme.Ipress
playandmyworldstartstocrumble.
Ahystericalwoman’svoiceisonthemachinedemandingtoknowwhereMexican
Manis.Afterseveralsimilarcalls,thevoiceturnssteelyandinsiststhatImust
returnhercall.ThereissomethingthatIneedtoknow.Thelastfewcallsarefullof
herweepingandbeggingMexicanMantocomehome.
Ihavenoideawhathasjusthitme.WhatshouldIdo?Returnhercall?CallMexican
Mananddemandanexplanation?Dismissthewholesagaasacallfromacrazy
woman?Handsshaking,IpickupthephoneandtellMexicanManwhatjust
happened.Hisvoiceturnssmooth.“Noteoccupes,miamor.”Don’tworry,mylove.
Thisisjustnonsense.Thiswomaniscrazy.Shehasacrushonmeandwantsyouto
bejealoussoyou’llbreakupwithmeandthenshethinksshecanbewithme.
MexicanMantalksinhissweetsexyvoice.Don’tcallherback.She’scrazy.Letme
dealwithher.Really,there’snothingtoworryabout.
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Ihangup,stilluncertainaboutmynextcourseofaction.Isitpossiblethatwhat
MexicanManclaimsistrue?Allthelingeringdoubtscreeptothesurface.Ican’t
pushthemawayorgetthemoutofmymind.Finallythetemptationisjusttoogreat.
Ihavetocall.Ihavetoknow.IfeellikeIamtheonewhoisgoingcrazy.
Handstremblingagain,IdialCrazyLady’snumber.Sheanswersandlaunchesintoa
longstory.MexicanManislivingwithherinhercondo.Shemethimatthehospital
whenhehadthegunshotwound.She’sdesperatelyinlovewithhim.Shewassick
withworrywhenhedidn’tcomehomeforthepastweek.FinallyshecalledAna,
whotoldheraboutmeandourtrip.Shewantstomarryhimdespiteallhisflaws.
AndshewantedmetoknowwhatI’mdealingwith.
Mymindisspinning.Ishouldbepreparingforschool,especiallyanewschool,and
yetallIcanthinkaboutisthissaga.IttakeshoursandhoursformetotalktoCrazy
Lady,talktoMexicanMan,sortthroughwhatIthinkIknowversuswhathe
said/shesaid.CrazyLadyknowsenoughdetailsaboutMexicanManandhislifeto
beplausibleandyethowcouldIhavebeensostupid?IcallAnaanddemandto
knowwhatisgoingon.Sheapologizesoverandover.She’slosiento,sosorry,but
shecan’texplainorsaymore.Sheneedstogo.
CrazyLadykeepscalling.Ikeepdemandingtoknowwhat’sgoingonfromMexican
Man.IpesterAna.Wegoincircles.CrazyLadyinsistsshecanprovetomethat
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MexicanManliveswithherifIjustcomeover.ShouldI?Thenshegivesmethe
addressofwhereI’vedroppedhimoffathis“cousin’s”countlesstimesontheother
sideofCompton.Igetinthecarandgotosolvethepuzzleonceandforall.
IknockonCrazyLady’sdoorandsheushersmeintoherhome.Therearepicturesof
MexicanManonthewall.PhotosofMexicanManwithyetanotherwoman.School
photosofchildren.CrazyLadytakesmeonatourofhercasa.Herearehisclothes,
shesays,asIstaredisbelievingataclosetfullofclothesthataremostcertainly
MexicanMan’s.Hereishistoothbrush,hiscologne,hisbrush.Asmymouthhangs
openinthebathroom.“Andthese?,”shesayswithaflourishpointingtothephotos
onthewall.ThesearehiswifeandchildreninMexico.Shehadlivedwiththese
photosformonths,believingthattheywereofMexicanMan’ssisterandher
childrenuntilhewenttoMexicoandvisitedthem.That’swhenshediscoveredthat
theywerereallyhiswifeandchildren.
Loco,loco,loco.I’mlivinglavidaloca.
Allthequestions,alltheintuitions,allthefeelingsthatsomethingwasamiss
suddenlymakecompleteanduttersense.AndyetIfeelcrazy,ungrounded,likeIam
beingpulledapart.EverythingIthoughtIknewiswrong.EverythingIthoughtabout
MexicanManisalie.Everythingaboutmypotentialfutureisnowshattered.
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Iamlivid.Iamhumiliated.IburstintotearsandCrazyLadymovestohugme.Ipush
heraway.“Iknow,Iknow,”shemurmurs.“Icouldn’tbelieveitmyself.ButIlovehim
andwanttobewithhimforever.”
Theabsurdityofthissituationfinallyhitsmefull-on.CrazyLadyisinlovewithmy
boyfriend-almostfiancéewhoismarriedwithchildreninMexicoandshestillwants
tobewithhim?Imostcertainlydonot.Istillhaveashredofself-respectleftandI
turnonmyheelandheadhometotrytopatchmyselfup.
ForthenextfewdaysallIcandoiscry.ItellAnawhathappenedwithCrazyLady
andshefinallyverifiesthatwhatCrazyLadysaidistrue.Sheissosorryshegotme
intothismess.Ifeelbetrayedonsomanylevels.MexicanMancallsmedayand
night,beggingforforgiveness.Itellhimtogivememymoneybackandthennever
tocallmeagain.Isobsomemore.
Andnowforashortcommercialinterruption.Ladiesandgentlemen,learnfrommy
lessons.WhenyourintuitionspeakstoyouLISTEN.Itisalwaysrightanditwillsave
youfromheartache,heartbreak,andmajordramaifyoujusttrustthatquiet
knowinginside.Whenyouareemotionallyraw,TAKECAREOFYOURSELFFIRST
ANDFOREMOST.Ihadyettofullyintegratetheselessonsandmostcertainlyhadn’t
learnedalltherewastolearn,sothedramawasjuststartingtoreallyheatup.
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IarriveatmynewschoolafewdaysafterI’vediscoveredthatMexicanManisn’t
whohesaidhewas,shakentothecore.Thenthehellaciousmorning.Ifinally
draggedmyselfoutofbedtogotoschoolafterhearingthegunshotsandamgreeted
byastreetfullofcopsandcrimescenedonotcrosstapestrungacrossoursidewalk.
Thereisabodyontheground,splayedinashapethatbodiesusuallydonotmake,
coveredwithatarp.ThefewdeadbodiesIhaveseeninmylifewerenicelydressed
anddolledupandsafelytuckedintoacoffinattheIrishCatholicwakesIhad
attendedinPittsburgh.Icertainlyhadneverbeennearafreshlydeadbodyand
especiallynotonethathadbeenfreshlymurdered.
Afterconsultingwiththeneighbors,TeachandIfigureoutthatthedeadbody
belongstothemotherofadrugdealerafewdoorsdown.Shehadbeenleavingfor
workwhenacardrove-byandshotherdeadinretaliationforhersonsellingbad
crack,$87K’sworth.Shootingamom?Fairgameinthishood.Myinitiallackof
reactiontothegunshotnoisenowfloodsmewithguilt.Thisisaperson.ApersonI
knewslightly.Amother.AndnowI’msupposedtopullmyselftogetherandheadoff
tothefirstdayofschool.
Majorheartbreak,adeadbody,andfirstdayatanewschool.I’minnostatetoteach,
butIhavecommittedtoteachingandthechildrenneedmesoI’lljustputonthe
bravefaceandsoldierthrougheachday.Afterall,Iwantedtheexperienceofliving
inthesameneighborhoodasmykidsandhowmanytimeshavetheywalkedby
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deadbodies?Howmanyhavehadafamilymemberkilledinadrive-by?I’msitting
atmydeskbreathingdeeply,tryingnottoburstintoyetmoretears.
Beforethebellrings,mydoorexplodeswiththesoundofintensebanging.Ijump
andwalkovertothedoor.I’minstantlypissedthatsomeonehasinterruptedmylast
fewminutesofquietbeforetheonslaughtofchildren.Twoboysburstintoastory
aboutlosingtheirlunchticketsandneedinghelp.Iyellatthemtogobacktothe
playgroundandnotbangonmydooragain.Theyrunoffpissedthattheirteacheris
suchawitch.InstantlyIfeelmoreguilt.Thisisgoingtobeoneroughschoolyear.
IQuit!?
TheclassthatgreetsmeisnothingliketheclassesIhadinCompton.Ontheplus
side,theyallspeakEnglish.Iamnolongerthe“bilingual”teacherwhoonly
somewhatspeakstheirlanguage.Onthedownside,thesechildrenhavebeen
togethersincekindergartenandeveryteacherwhohaseverhadthedispleasureof
tryingtoteachthemhaseitherquitorretiredmid-year.Manyofthemstruggleto
readandwriteeventhoughtheyarein4thgrade.Theirindividualproblemsand
historytogetherismind-blowing.Onestudent’sbrotherwaskilledbyanother
student’sbrother.La’Queefaissurly,defiant,deeplytroubled,andhardlyableto
writehername.
IaminovermyheadsoIask,Ms.T,aveteranteacherandschoolcoordinatorto
comeintomyclasstohelp.Sheisknownasthetoughestcookieintown,andyetall
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thestudentsseemtoloveandrespecther.Mystudentsjumptoheightened
attentionwhentheyseeherandyetaresmilingbythetimesheleaves.La’Queefa
makesasnideremarktoMs.T.Ms.Ttriesherusualtacticstonoavail.Shethen
ordersLa’Queefatotheprincipal’soffice.La’Queefafinallystandsupandthen
proceedstotakegeishasizedstepsfromthefrontoftheclassroomtothedoor.
ThereisastunnedandtensesilenceastheshowdownbetweenLa’QueffaandMs.T.
unfolds.Thiswillquicklymaketheroundsasthestoryspreadslikewildfirecome
recess.IttakesforeverforLa’QueefatoleaveandIthinkthatMs.Tisgoingtohavea
coronary.I’veneverseenherlosehercoolandyettherearevisibledaggerscoming
outofhereyes.Inwardly,Ismilesmugly.Atleastitisn’tjustmewhocan’tcontrol
thisclassroom.Thisisoneofmybetterdaysatmynewschool.
Onamoretypicalday,Sha’Quandra’smothercomesuptoschooltohavean
impromptuparent-teacherconference–withabaseballbat.She’supsetthatIgive
herdaughterhomeworkandwhenthehomeworkisn’tcompleted,Sha’Quandra
receivesdetention.Forsecurityreasons,theonlywaytoentertheschoolistocome
throughthemainbuilding,signinatthefrontdesk,receiveavisitorpass,andthen
walkacrossthewidecourtyardtomybuilding.Noonefromtheofficewarnsme
thatSha’Quandra’smother,holdingabaseballbat,isheadedmyway.
LuckilyIseeherapproachingthroughmyopendoorandheadouttheseconddoor
designedforemergencyexits.Idecidethatthisqualifiesasanemergencyexit.I
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don’twanttobetrappedinsidetheroomwithhersoIheadoutthedoortothe
relativesafetyofnearbyhumans,atleastvisiblefromotherclassrooms.
Sha’Quandra’smotherisnotcarryingthebaseballbatforbattingpractice.Wehave
aterseargumentinthecourtyardwhileafewotherteachersstandintheir
doorwayswatchingthespectacleofthenewteachergettingreamedoutby
disgruntledparent.Needlesstosay,thatnightthecryingjagcontinues.
Igototheprincipalindesperateneedofassistancebuttheprincipalistoo
overwhelmedwiththemyriadproblemsintheenormousschooltodomuchmore
thanoffershe’ssureIwillsurvive,Icamehighlyrecommended,andthatthe
childrenwillbeanotherteacher’sproblemnextyear.Thisdoeslittletoabatethe
cryingthatnight.Howdidmylifegetsooutofcontrol?Andwhyhasn’tanyone
addressedthisclassofstrugglingchildren?
Theschoolisonayear-roundcalendar,whichmeansthatweareinsessionforthree
monthsandthenwehaveamonthoff.Thisallowsfortheschooltobeopenyear
roundtomaximizeaccommodatingthepopulationincombinationwithbudget
issues.
Istartcontemplatingquittingduringthebreak.Maybetheschoolwouldhavetime
tofindanewteacherandthekidswouldn’tbeastraumatized.TheGoodGirlis
horrified.“No!,”theGoodGirlprotests.“Youcan’tbreakyourcontract.Youcan’t
quit!Thesechildrenneedyou.You’reafailureifyougiveupnow.What’syour
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problem?Whatwilltheotherteachersthinkofyou?Howwillthekidsremember
you?Whycan’tyoujustgetittogether?”ThemoreIthinkaboutmydilemma,the
moreIfeellikeanutterfailurewithnopossiblewayoutofthisdiaster.
CouldIfindthecouragetofinallyutterthewords“IQuit!”?Whilemyheartknows
thisistheonlyrightandkindactiontotakeforeveryoneinvolved,theGoodGirlis
toochickentofacemyprincipal,myparents,mystudentssoItorturemyselfand
everyonearoundmewithanotherfewmonthsofmisery.
WhoAmI?IfNotGoodGirl,ThenWho?
EachmorningIawaken,eyesswollenandmoaning.It’sallIcandotodragmyself
outofbedtofaceanotherdayofchaosintheclassroom.Iamamessandquite
unusedtofeelingoutofcontrol.Lifehadhitmeovertheheadwitha2x4,screaming,
WAKEUP!,andwhileIcertainlyfeltthepainIwasn’tsurewhatIshouldbedoing
withallthetearsandsnotthatwerepouringforth.
Atsomepointeveryday,youcouldfindmecurledupinalittleball,curtainsdrawn.
Iwasataloss.IhadcarriedmyGoodGirlbadgearoundconceitedlyforyears.I
carriedtheslightlyannoyingandoff-puttingvibeof,“Hey!I’maGoodGirlandI’m
proudofit!”Iearnedadditionalpointsforbeingthegoodgirlfriend,thegood
teacher,thegoodemployee,thegooddaughter,thegoodcitizen–atleastinmyown
mind.
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YetsuddenlyIfeltbankrupt.IwasOB.Doingafiresale.BetweenMexicanManand
thenewschoolfiascos,Iwashurting.Iwasn’tagoodgirlfriendanymore,letalonea
girlfriend.DeepdownIknewitwasjustamatteroftimebeforeIquit.Whichwould
meanthatIwouldn’tbeateacheranymoreandhadflamedoutspectacularlyonthat
one.Whatteacherabandonstheirstudentsmid-year?Ienvisionedthatmystudents
wouldbeintherapyforlife–iftheyhadaccesstotherapyorbelievedinit.Small
consolation–theminordamageImayhaveinflictedonthemwasmostlikely
inconsequentialincomparisontotheneighborhood/homelife.Goodemployees
don’tquitinthemiddleoftheircontract.DisqualifiedforGoodGirlstatusthere.
WappyandBazerweredefinitelyconcernedaboutmychoices–fromwhereIlived
tomylackofemploymenttowhoIwascavortingwith(ornolongercavortingwith).
Gooddaughtersdon’tworrytheirparentsandmakechoicesthatdispleasethem.
AndInolongercaredtoreadNewsweekandstayabreastoftheworld,letalonebea
contributingmembertosociety.Hmm.Failingonthegoodcitizenfronttoo.For
someonewhowasusedtostraightAs,IfeltlikeacompleteF.MixingwithMexican
Manhadcertainlymessedwithme.Addinthecrazykidsandmyfragileemotionalmentalstate.IfeltlikeIwasonthevergeoflosingit.
Onedayafteranotherlongboutofsobbing,alittlevoiceinsideofmesaid,“Well,if
youarenotagood(fill-in-the-blank),thenwhoareyou?”
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Igotveryverystill.Iwasthoroughlystumped.Thequestionstoppedmeinmy
tracks.Ihadnoidea.Absolutelynone.BecausebeinggoodwaswhoIwas,wasn’tit?
Beinggoodmademehappy,didn’tit?
Ithurttoadmit,notsomuch,notanymore.IwasusedtoidentifyingwithmyGood
Girlpersona.Infact,IhadneverconsideredthattheremightbemoretomeorthatI
wasseparatefromtherolesIplayed,formallytoperfection.Andinthatmoment,the
GoodGirlfaçadefelltoamessyheaponthefloor.LikethedeadbodythatIsawon
thesidewalkafewmonthsago,theunderpinningsoftheGoodGirl,whoIidentified
withcompletelyandwhoIhadservedwithallmylife,waskilled.Dead.Gonzo.
Goodbye.
Iwaslefttowonderwhowasleftinherplace.Isobbedsomemore.
MyMexicanAngelsTimesTwo
Manymanymoonslater,anoceanoftears,andwithawholelotofhelp,Istartto
regardMexicanManasoneofthebiggestangelsinmylife.Letmetellyouittook
sometimeandtherapytoseethewholeshenanigansfromthispointofview.The
healingfeelscompletewhenIhavea,welltheonlywordthatIcanthinkofis,a
vision.
MexicanManandImeetintheafterlife.Welaughandhugandslapeachotheron
theback.Hey!Goodone!Thanksforthelesson.Youreallygotmegood.Thistime
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around,hegottoplaytheangelwhowokemeupbypretendingtobeadevilwho
brokemyheart.Igottolearntosoclearlytrustmyintuition.Iamsupremely
gratefultoMexicanMan.Hetrulytransformedmeintoabilingualteacher,he
openedmyhearttobeingadoredandloved,andexpandedmynarrowmiddle-class
whitegirlwayoflookingattheworld.Iwouldn’ttradeortakebacktheheartbreak
foranything.Andmostofall,IthankhimprofoundlybecauseMexicanManpicked
meup,whirledmearound,anddroppedmesmackdabintothemiddleofanother
littlebrownangelman’suniversewhointurnwokemeuptothetruthofwhoIam–
ShamanGirl.
MyShaman
IamsittinginthelivingroomofCarrot-topandQ-tip,asweetandinvitingolder
couple,wholiveinWestLA.Twentyofusarenestledintotheroom,whichis
paintedawarmMexicanhaciendacoloranddeckedoutwithcandles,windchimes,
handmadeartifactsfromaroundtheworld,alongwithartworkthatIdecidemust
bevaguelyreligiousorspiritual–IhaveyettobeintroducedtothevariousGods,
Goddesses,Saints,andAngelsintheHindu/Christian/Buddhist/mishmash/
religiousfadofthespiritualset.Ascent…isthatpot?(TheGoodGirlwouldn’t
know.)Nope,it’sNagChampa,thefavoredincenseflavoratspiritualshindigs.
I’malittlewary.AsIlookaroundtheroom,mosteveryoneissmilingandsomehow
touchingthepersonnexttothem.Strange.Thepeopleonthecouchhavepeople
sittinginfrontofthem,onthefloor,inbetweentheirlegs.Somepeopleareholding
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handsorrubbingeachother’sshoulders.ThereiswhatIlaterlearnisreferredtoas
a“puppypile”ofbodieslyingonthefloor.It’sdifficulttodiscernwhereonebody
endsandthenextonebegins.It’shardnottobeincontactwiththepersonnextto
yougiventhesizeoftheroom,butmyproperwhitegirlsenseofpersonalspaceis
beinginfringedupon.
Granted,everyonehasclothesonandeveryoneseemstobehappywiththebodily
chaos,butgiventhatthisismyfirsttimeataspiritualgathering,I’mnotcertain
whatIwillfind,whetherIwilllikeit,orwhattheappropriatedecorumis.ForallI
know,thiscouldevenbeacult.I’malreadyalittlejarredbythenumberofpeople
whohaveembracedmeinawarmhuguponintroduction.Ihaven’thuggedfamily
thatI’veknownformyentirelifethatlong,evenifyoucombinedeveryhugever
given.
Crystallooksupatmeandsmilesreassuringly,herelbowrestingonmyknee.Alsoa
youngteacheratmyschoolinWatts,Crystalinvitedmetocometothisgatheringto
hearanauthor/spiritualteacherspeak.Icouldfindoutmoreaboutthe“work”she
doesspiritually.Itdoesn’ttakeapsychictoseethatIaminneedofsomehelpand
couldusesomeworkingon.ShepromisesmethatIwillloveit.He’samazingandso
arealltheotherspiritualseekerswhosurroundhim.
Fromourconversationsintheteacher’slounge,she’sassessedthatI’mopentoher
NewAge-yinterestsafterIconfirmedthatyes,IhadreadTheCelestineProphecy,
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yearsago.Sheoftenhasacrystalinherpocket,aroundherneckorwrist,toassistin
clearingorenhancingherenergy.Sometimesshe’llstopbyandaskifIwanttohelp
herpracticecreatinganenergyballbetweenherhands.CanIfeelit?Uhhh….Asone
oftheonlyotheryoungandenergeticteacherswhoisopentonewcomers,Itake
whatIcangetintermsofasympatheticearandsomeinsightintothepoliticsofthe
school.Plus,ifIsecretlyadmitit,I’mkindofintrigued.Shhh.
SuddenlyCarrot-topandQ-tip’slivingroomisatwitterandIseeashortbrownman
withanenormousgrinandatwinkleinhiseyeentertheroom.Likesunflowers
respondingtothesun,everyone’sattentionturnstohim.Theroomseemsstrangely
aglow.Miobeams.Hehugsnearlyeveryoneinhispathashemakeshiswaytothe
middleofthecouch.Henodswarmlyatthoseofuswhoaresittingontheoutskirts
oftheroom.EveryonesettlesasCarrot-topwelcomesus.Curlyredhairspringsout
ofhertopknot.Sheisfunnyandsogracious.Q-tip,withhisbaldingheadedgedwith
whiteandgrayhair,lookslikeagentlegiant.Theyexudewisdomandcontentment
andhumblenesstoo.
AlthoughmostpeopleintheroomseemtoknowbothMioandoneanother,there
areafewnewbieslikemyself,soCarrot-topintroducesherself,Q-tip,andMio.
Carrot-topandQ-tiphavebeenstudying,andnowteachingwithMioforafewyears.
MiohasjustreleasedabookaboutEwokwisdom.Hecomesfromafamilyof
curanderas(healers)andnaguals(spiritualmasters),butherejectedtheirwaysto
gotomedicalschool.Afteranear-deathexperience,Miodevotedhimselftostudying
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hisancientancestralwisdom,fulfillinganoldprophecythathistraditionwouldbe
madepopulararoundtheworld.
Carrot-topexplainsthattheEwokswereasocietyofscientistsandartistswholived
inMexicomillenniaagoandpracticedspiritualknowledgethathadbeenpassed
downfromtheancientones.TheEwokswerenotarace,butratheraclassinsociety
–thehealers,teachers,doctors,theenlightenedones.Notareligion,butrathera
wayoflife,thiswisdomwasnowbeingreturnedtothepeopleviaMio.NowMio
traveledandtaughtgroupsofstudents,primarilyinCaliforniawherehelives,who
arededicatedtolettinggoofself-limitingbeliefsbasedinsufferingandinstead
embracingalifeofjoyandtruehappiness.Withoutfurtherado,Imeetmyfirst,real,
liveshaman.
Miopausesafterhisintroductionandscanstheroom.Hiseyesappeartobeentirely
black.Theyseemtopiercethroughyouandyetarefilledwithwarmthandlight.The
firstwordsoutofhismouthare,“IfIcandoit,socanyou.”
Mymindinstantlyskittersaboutlikeacrabtryingtofinditsfootinginatidepool.
Whatis“it”?WhatamIdoinghere?WhywouldIbeabletodowhatthisguru-like
nagualguyfromalineageofhealerscando?Mypeoplewerebricklayers,potato
eaters,andgoodCatholicswhoworshippedprimlyinachurch.Theydidnot
communewithspiritasfarasIkneworevenbelievethatthepurposeoflifewas
happiness.Still,Mioinsiststhatwearealike.Ifhewasabletofindhispersonal
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freedom,socantherestofus.Ifhecanbreakfreeofsuffering,wecantoo.Ifhecan
choosetobehappy,thenitisapossibilityforallofus.
SomehowIfindmyselfnodding.Everythinghesaysmakesperfectsense.It’s
commonsense,andyetIhaveneverheardanyonetalklikethis.I’veneverhad
someonetellmethatIhavethepower,thechoice,thefreedomtochoosewhatI
thinkandhowIfeel.Hisideasseemrevolutionary,andyetitalsoseemslikeI
alreadyknoworhavealreadyheardeverythingthathe’ssaid.Ifeelmyselftrying
reallyhardtofigureitallout.Isthistrue?Isitpossible?HaveIreadorheardthis
somewhereelsebefore?
SoonIfeelalittlefuzzyandlight-headed.It’sapleasantfeelingbutifIthinktoo
muchaboutitortrytofigureoutwhyit’shappening,itbecomesabitdisconcerting.
Iammesmerizedbytheenergythat’spouringoffofhim.Whatisitabouthim?I
decidethathehasapresence.It’sasifyoucanfeeltheloveradiatingoffofhim.As
Miocontinuestospeak,allthewordswashoverme.Iamnolongerreallyfocusing
onwhatheissaying.Ifeeladeep,deepsenseofinexplicablepeaceandwell-being.I
feelalittlesleepy.IknowIwantmore.
Miotalksforhourandahalforso,towardtheendansweringquestionsfromthe
audienceaboutchallengesintheirlivesoraskingforclarificationonwhathesaid.
Heanswersthemallgood-naturedly,nevergivingexactlythekindofanswerI
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wouldhaveexpected.Notadvicereally,butanotherwayoflookingatthesituation
orworld.
Thetalkbreaksandagroupclustersaroundhim.Crystalgrabsmyhandandpulls
metowardhim.“C’mon,I’llintroduceyou.”Weeventuallymakeourwaytohim.
“Meghan,Mio.Mio,thisisMeghan.”“Sweetheart!”heexclaims,andthenthrowshis
armsaroundme.Istiffenbrieflybutthenmeltinthewarmthofhisembrace.My
heartstartspounding.Hashemistakenmeforsomeoneelse?Wehaven’tmetbefore
sowhyishecallingme“sweetheart?”Ihaven’tcaughtonthathecallsalmost
everyone,maleandfemalealike,“sweetheart,”“sweetie,”or“honey.”Eventhough
heisquiteabitshorterthanme,hesomehowmanagedtoswingmearound.My
bodyisinfusedwiththemostdeliciouslycalmandyetenergizedsensation.Iam
nowofficiallydizzyandneedtositdown.Myentireworldhasjustofficiallybeen
sentintoatailspin.
PART2:LearningtoFly
NavigatingbyMoonlight
IpullofftothesideoftheroadhopingI’vefoundtherightplace.I’vefollowedsome
scribbleddirectionsandamuddledhand-drawnmaptothebaseofamountainin
thePacificPalisades.AgroupofMio’sstudentsaregoingforafullmoonhikein
TemescalCanyon.
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“Thisiscrazy,”I’mthinkingtomyself.“WhogoesforahikeinLA?Letaloneinthe
middleofthenight?Icouldbeattacked.Theycouldkidnapme.Icouldfallandkill
myself.”
Mymindishavingafieldday.IamcompletelyintriguedbyMioandhiscroniesand
alsocompletelyspookedoutbythem.
“It’sfine.Youwillbeokay,”anothervoiceinmyheadchimesin.Itrytocalmdown
mybreathingasIseeheadlightspullupbehindmeinmyrearviewmirror.Afew
othershavearrived.Ismirkatmyself.Ihavefull-onvoicesgoingoninsidemyhead.
Idefinitelyneedhelp.
Agroupofadozenorsoassemblesatthebaseofafootpath.Thereareseveralof
Mio’steachersinthegroupandtheytakecharge.Therewillbenotalking.Open
yourselfuptoperceivetheenergyfromthemoonandfromtheearth.Breathe
deeplyintoyourbelly.Quietyourmind.Aswewalk,ourenergyshouldshiftinto
anotherdimension.
TheGoodGirlwantstogetthisrightsoI’mrepeatingtheinstructionsoverinmy
mind.“Don’ttalk.Okay.That’seasyenough.Perceivetheenergy.Howdoyoudo
that?Breathe.Icanbreathe.IthinkIcanbreathedeeplyandwalk.Quietmymind.
Haha.Mymindistalkingnow.Thenenergyshift.Whatdoesthatmean?Whatother
dimension.Don’ttalk…Mind,shhh!”Mymindislikeagerbilonawheelinitscage.
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Myeyesgraduallyadjusttothemoonlightaswemakeourwayupthetrail.Ican’t
believeI’mhikinginLA,letaloneatnight.Atfirst,Icanonlyfocusonthepathand
onnotstumblingalong.ButeventuallyIrelaxabitandcantakeinwhat’sonthe
sidesofthepath.
Thisworldistotallydifferentthatthebrightlights,hustle-bustleoftheLosAngeles
thatIknow,whichliesjustafewmilesaway.Thereissageandaloeandcactibathed
inagoldenwhiteglow.It’sblissfullyquietcomparedtothenoiseofthecityandthe
tangybrushsmellisinvigorating.Itevenfeelsgoodtonavigatetheshiftingrocks
andsandundermyboots.
MybreathingquickenswiththephysicalexertionbutthenIrememberthe
instructiontobreathedeeply.Wait,whatwasthat?Asurgeofwhitelightseemedto
flareupfromtheearthandenvelopealltheplants.DidIjustimaginethat?Ordidit
happen?ItwaseerilysimilartomyexperiencewithColorado’splantsafterIfirst
readtheCelestineProphecy.
Mymindhasburstsoftempertantrums.“Thisisinsane.Whyareweouthere?
Wouldn’tyouratherbesleeping?”FollowedbymomentsofsereneblisswhenIfeel
themoonlightbathingmysoul,guidingtheway,infusingthetrailwithotherworldly
energy.Idomybesttoaskmymindtohushandinsteadfocusonthemagicofbeing
outonamoonlighthike.
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JustasIfeellikeI’mrelaxingintoarhythmbothphysicalandenergetic,oneofthe
teachersstopsushalfwayupthetrail.“Nowwearegoingtodoatrustwalk.Picka
partnerandoneofyouwillcloseyoureyes,whiletheotherleadsyoualong.Start
perceivingwithmorethanjustyoureyes.Trustyourself.Youwillbetakencareof
andguidedalong.”
WTF??Idon’tknowanyoneinthegroupwellyetandI’msupposedtotrusta
strangertoguidemetohikeinthedark?Thisisofficiallycrazy.MaybeIshouldjust
gobacknow.
ButSeagull,atall,lankyguywho’sknownforbeingsweet,irreverent,andhilarious,
grabsmyelbow.“Shallwe?”heaskswithoutreallywaitingformetoanswer.“You
gofirst.”I’mabouttomutterthatIneedtogo,butheinterruptsme,“Goon.Close
youreyes.You’llbefine.Igotyou.”
IdecidetomakeagoofitsinceIdon’treallywanttowalkbacktothecarbymyself.
Iclosemyeyesandforthefirstfewminutes,I’mallballedup.Istumblealong
awkwardly,eitherpickingmyfeetuptoohighinanticipationofanon-existentrock
orscuffingthemonthegroundinfearoffalling.
Seagullplaceshishandonthebackofmyheart.Ifellthetensioninmyshoulders
relax.Ibreathealittledeeper.“Youmightaswellrelaxandgoforit.What’sthe
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worstthatcanhappen?”Iaskmyself.AlthoughIhaveimagesofmefallingflatonmy
face,IdobelievethatSeagullwoulddohisbesttocatchme.Islowdownalittlebit
andtryperceivingwithmorethanmyeyes.
Onmynextstep,Ifeelthegroundgreetmyfeet.It’sasifagentlystickyenergyis
connectingmetotheearth.EachtimeIpickmyfootup,itfeelsasifgravityreleases
itandthisearthenergyfillsinthevacuum,thenguidesmyfootbackdown.Beneath
myoutstretchedarms,Ifeelaspongyenergyemanatingfrommyhandsthat
connectstotheearthenergyradiatingfromtheground.Isthistheenergythat
Crystalalwaystalksabout?
Idropmyarmsandrelaxsothatonlymyhandsareperpendiculartotheground.
Justforkicks,Iimagineamoonbeamtouchingthetopofmyheadandtetheringme
tothemoon.I’mgettingthehangofthis!I’mnotstumbling.I’mactuallywalking
withmyeyesclosedonsteepterrain.Ilaughoutloud.I’mnavigatingbymoonlight.
Wereachthetopofthehillandsitdown.Ihaveanenormousgrinonmyface.Ifeel
likeI’vepassedaninitiation.Iconqueredmysillyfearsandjusthadanincredible
experienceofconnectingtomysurroundingsandtosomeoneIhardlyknow.Justa
fewweeksago,Iwasmiserableandstuckinthemiddleofthegrungyinner-cityand
nowhereIamsittingontopoftheworld,inthemiddleofnature,inthemoonlight.I
feellikeI’vebeentransportedintoafairytale.
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Iclosemyeyesandfeelabreezestir.Mywholebeingleansintoit.Itgulpsthewind
eagerly.Idesperatelyneedthisexperience.Mysoulhasbeencravingdepth,
meaning,magic.Thewindblowsawaysomeofthedoubt,thesadness,thestruggle
thatI’vefacedoverthepastfewmonths.
Iopenmyeyesandseeafewstarsaboveme.IlookoutovertheValleyandseethe
lightsofthecitybelowme.IfeellikeI’mbeingaskedtochoose.WhatIknow:city,
activity,thinking,organizing,tryingtofigureitallout.Ortheunknown:starlight,
moonbeams,midnighthikes,zanypeoplewhoIsomehowtrustdespitehaveno
goodreasonto,aninnerguidancesystem.
Thegroupispackinguptoheaddownthehill.Seagullletsoutawhoop!Andtakes
offrunningdownthetrail.Weridehisenthusiasmandhowlandshriekaswesprint
downhill.It’sexhilaratingtofeelthisfree,toberunninginthemoonlightwhooping
andholleringjustforthesheerjoyofit.Forafewmoments,Ievenclosemyeyes
whilerunningandspreadmyarmsoutasifI’mflying.
Yes!Idecide.Iwanttobefree.Iwanttofly.Idesirepeaceandloveandtrue
happiness.Iwanttoexperiencelifefully–navigatingbymoonlightandtrustingthe
unknown.
BythetimeI’vereachedthebottomofthetrail,completelywinded,spentand
happy,I’vedecidedtothrowmylotinwiththisgroup,atleastforthetimebeing.
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Thereisnobetteralternativeinsight.StudyingwithMiomightjustbecrazyenough
togetmeoutofmyrut,outofmyhead,andlivingthelifeofmydreams.
ThePlungeintoanAlternateReality
Atalossforabetteridea,IdecidetoplungeintothealternaterealityofMio’s
universe.I’mbarelykeepingmyheadabovethewateratschoolbetweenthetorrent
ofmyownemotionsandtheturmoilofthestudentsaroundme.I’mwillingtoclutch
atanylife-savingdeviceandMioiswhatGodseemstohavechuckedmyway.
ThenightIlandedinMio’sworld,IlearnedthatCarrot-topandQ-tipofferclasseson
EwokWisdomandwitha“what-the-heck”Isignuponthespot.Onceaweek,Itrek
backtotheirinvitinghomeandgatherincirclewithothersoulseekers.Teaand
cookiesareserved.Blanketsandpillowsarethrownaroundthefloor.Mindsare
blownwideopen.Welcometoawholenewworld.
Inadditiontoourclasses,thereareoutingstothebeach,morehikesthroughthe
canyonsbothdayandnight,pizzaparties,outingstoseemovieswithamessage.I
takeupHathaYogawithanotheroneofMio’steachersnamedTemple.I’vefallen
intoatribeofpeoplewhoareconcernedwiththedeepermeaningoflife,whilestill
desiringtohavefun.SowhilealotofwhatIamdiscoveringaboutmyselfisnot
pleasant,Iamlaughingmywaythroughitwithagroupofwackypeoplebymyside.
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Inclass,IdiscoverthebasicsoftheEwokphilosophy.Thiswayoflifeisutterly
differentthatwhatI’musedto.Firstallof,thereisawarenessabouthowyouare
living.Whoreallytakesthetimetothinkaboutthat?NooneIhadknownbefore.To
topitalloff,youcouldmakeachoiceabouthowyouwantedtolive.Consciously.
Lovingly.Wow.Awholenewworldwasopeningbeforemyeyes,layingafoundation
tocreateanentirenewwayofliving.SurethereareplentyoftimethatIwonderifI
drankthecool-aid,butmostlymynewrevelationsandnewfriendsfeelreallyright
andtrue.
SoIdiscoverthatIamdreamingallthetime–notjustatnight.Iexperiencethe
worldinmyownuniquewaydependingonmybeliefs,whichcanbebasedinfearor
basedinlove.IhaveajudgeinmyownmindthatdictateswhatIshouldorshouldn’t
bedoing,whatisrightorwrongorgoodorbad.Andthereisalsotherecipientof
thisjudgment,calledthevictimthatcarriestheguilt,blame,andshameof“poorme.”
Likeallhumans,Iwasdomesticatedtolookoutsideofmyselfforlove,attention,and
approval.AddthisallupandIamresponsibleformycreation,akamylife,whichcan
eitherbefullofsufferinganddramaorfilledwithtrueloveandhappiness–my
choicewithenoughawareness,transformation,andintent.Wow,canIrelate.I
eagerlysoakupallthisnewvocabulary.
Intuitivelyalltheseconceptsmakesensetome.TheyfeelrightevenasIstruggleto
identifymybeliefs,tocatchthedancebetweenthejudgeandvictimwithinmyown
mind,tobreakoldhabits,totakeresponsibilityforthemessI’vecreated.
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MoststunningofallistherealizationthatIammorethanmytalents,abilities,name,
rolesIplay,orevenmythoughtsandemotions.Lifeiscoursingthroughme.Iaman
inherentpartoflife,theuniverse,God.Thisisfar,farfrommyideaofthewhite
beardedGodinaflowingwhiterobefrommychildhood.Itfeelsaccessibleandreal
andpracticalandalsoearth-shattering,mind-numbinglywildlyweird.Godaspart
ofmyeverydaylife?NeverinamillionyearswouldIhaveenvisionedthisfrommy
semi-Catholicupbringing.
Feelinglikeachildwhohasjuststuckherfingerinanelectricaloutlet(andIdid
brieflyelectrocutemyselfinarchitectureschoolwhenwiringalampIhadmade),I
suddenlyfeelalive,gloryhallelujah.Allthelightswereon.Energywascoursing
throughme.MorethananythingIhadeverwantedorstrivedfor,Inowwantmy
personalfreedom–tobeabletochooseadreamoflove,tobeabletochoosewhatI
thinkandfeel,tobeauthenticinhowIlivemylifeinsteadoflivingitthroughthe
dictatesofmyGoodGirl.
Butisitpossible?Isitcrazy?Whyhasnooneeveryexplainedlifeinthisway
before?
Mymindislikeaping-pongtournament.Itlobsa“Doesn’tlifejusthappentoyou?”
overthenet.MynewfoundwisdomreturnsthevolleywithaphraseI’vepickedup
fromCarrot-topandQ-tip,“Youcan’tcontrolwhathappensinlifebutyoucan
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controlhowyourespond.”Backandforth,backandforth,mymindattemptsto
assimilatesomeofthisnewwayoflookingattheworld.
Yetnomatterhowmanytauntsmymindbantersaround“You’vegonecrazy.Thisis
weirdNewAgenonsense.Nooneiseveryreallyhappyallthetime,”Iamdesperate.
Myhearthurtstoomuch.I’mashamedathowpoorlyI’mdoingmyjob.Ihate
displeasingmyparents.Ican’tbelievethatI’mstillcryingoveraguy–especially
oneasslimyasMexicanMan.Ican’tgoonlivingthisway.It’stoopainful.
WiththeEwoksonnightsandweekends,Ibatheintheirloveandacceptance.Yet
duringthedaywhenI’mwithmystudentsI’mgrumpyandmean.Idon’tlikemyself
verymuch.Closetotheendofatermrightbeforeourmonth-longvacation,Ifind
myselfyellingatthetopofmylungsatapeskystudent,myfaceinchesfromhis,
withhisbacktothewall.Iamsoclosetoreachingoutandstranglinghim.
Inthatmoment,Ipopoutsideofmyself.Theworldgoessilent.Icannolongerhear
whatI’myelling.Everyinteractionslowsdown.Iwatchhoveringovermyself,seeing
myfacenearpurple.Iseethefearandconfusiononthestudents’faces.Itakeinthe
pursed,disapprovinglipsofanotherteacherwalkingdownthehall.Isensemy
judgeandvictimgearinguptohaveafielddaywiththisexperience.
Andthenatinyclick.Theslightestofshiftswithinme.Allmyenergydrainsasif
someonejustpuncturedatire.Ibecomedeadlystill.Ihaveamomentofutter
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clarity.IrealizethatIamdoingnofavorstothesechildrenortomyselfby
continuingtoteach.AndI’mcertainlynotlivingwhatMiopreaches.Ineedtotake
responsibilityformylifebeforeIenduphurtingmyself–orsomeoneelse–any
more.
Myheartandtummydoflip-flopswhenIfinallymarchmyselfintotheprincipal’s
office.Itisheartwrenchingtoresign,butitisalsoanactofself-loveandselfrespect.Icannolongertreatmyselfthisway.Icannolongertreatmypoorstudents
thisway.Afterallmyhearthasbeenthrough,Iquit!
Ihadquitmyjobbutunfortunatelytheemotionsshowednosignofstopping.
Forthenextfewmonths,IcallintotheLAUSDsubstituteteacherhotlineearlyeach
morningtofindoutifthereisajobavailableforthatday,mostlyprayingthatthere
isn’t.UntilIcanfigureoutanotherplan,Icanmanagebabysittingrandomclassesfor
thedayinexchangeforapaycheck.Ilickmywoundsinmyshade-drawnroomalot.
Igotowisdomclass.Igotoatherapist.IeventrygoingtoamodernhipLAchurch.
I’veappliedtogradschoolsforamastersdegreesinbotharchitectureandeducating
childreninarchitectureandamhopingabig,fatenvelopewillarriveinthemailand
deliverananswer.MostlyIfeellostandaimless,wonderingwhat’snext,whatI
shouldbedoingwithmylife.
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Einsteinsaidthatinsanityisdoingthesamethingoverandoveragainandexpecting
differentresults.SomethingneedstochangeandIdon’tthinkanewjob,new
boyfriend,newapartment,orevenanotherdegreeisgoingtodoit.Togetmeoutof
thisrut,IknowIneedtodosomethingdrastictogetdifferentresults.Studyingwith
Mio,Carrot-top,andQ-tipintherelativesafetyofLosAngelesonceaweekwasa
start,butIneededtoreallyembedtheselessonswithinmylife.
Formonths,Carrot-topandQ-tiphadbeenrecruitingstudentstoheadtotheEwoks’
Mecca,whichwaslocatedintheheartofMexicoinMio’sancestralhomeland.Called
Marzipan,itroughlytranslatedto“ThePlaceWhereManAwakenstoBecomeGod.”
TheEwokshadbuiltthiscityofpyramidsthousandsofyearsagoforthesole
purposeofspiritualenlightenment.Yikes.Intense.
EachJanuary,amajorpilgrimageoccurredwithMio,allofhisteachers,andallof
theirstudentsarrivinginmassforfive-daysofspiritualstudy.Newtothegroupand
notsureaboutthesanityorsafetyofgoingtoMexicowithabunchofgoofy,spiritual
seekers,IconvenientlydemurredsinceIcouldn’ttaketimeoffofschool.
ThenonedayIawakenanditdawnsonme.ComeJanuary,Iwillhavenojobthat
preventsmefromjoiningthemintravellingtothelandofEwokGods,pyramids,and
hopefullymysalvation.
WelcometothePyramidsofMexico
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IampinchingmyselfasIlookdownattheclouds,thenglanceoveratCarrot-topand
Q-tip.IamgoingtoMarzipan,Mexico!QuitefranklyI’mfeelingquitpleasedwith
myself.Ahugesenseofreliefhaspermeatedmybeingsincequitting,withonly
occasionalflare-upsofguilt.Allofmygradschoolappsareinsothepressureisoff
andthewaitingbeginsonthatfront.Ihavenoonetoaccounttobutmyself.Right
nowI’mhugelyexcitedanddefinitelynervous.Ican’tbelieveIpulleditofftocome
toMarzipan.
SinceitwasmyfirsttimetravellingtoMexico,Iwashappytocoordinatetravel
planswithTita,Manny,Carrot-topandQ-tip,whowereveteransatgoingtoMarzi
(pronouncedMar-ZAasinshortforMarzipan).ApparentlyEwoksliketotravelina
pack,soTempleandasmatteringofotherL.A.teachers,aswellasanotherstudent
ortwo,areallonthesameflight.Therewasalotofsocializingintheaisles.I’m
feelingspecialandsmugbecauseI’mflyingontheflightwithalltheteachers,while
mostofthestudentsarecominginonthenextfewflights.
Atourlastclass,Carrot-topandQ-tipprepusforthefirstlegofthetrip.Whenwe
exittheplaneandwalkthroughthedoorwayintotheairport,wearewalking
throughaportalintotheEwokdream.Ourliveswillneverbethesame.Weare
takingaleapintomasteringourcreationanddreamingalifeoffreedom,
responsibility,andlove.Theyencourageustowalkthroughitwithallourintent.
TitaandQ-tipreallyplayupmakingagrand,intentfulentranceasweprepareto
land.Ihavenoideathattheyarehavingagrandoldtimemessingwithnewbieme.
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We’llbeconnectingwithalltheotherteachersandtheirstudentsinfrontofthe
restaurant,TheFreedomCantina(howappropriate),wherewe’llmeetQuixote,the
driverfromthehotel.Therewillbetimetocovertdollarsintopesosandthenweare
offforthehourandahalfbusridetothepyramidcomplex.Therestofthetripwill
beona“needtoknow”basis,i.e.leaveouroveractivemindswithit’sneedtoknow
tofeelsafeathome.
TheplanebeginstodescendandIfeellikeI’mabouttoburst.Iwanttotransform
mylifebad,butI’malsoabitfreakedoutaboutdoingso.Thistripiswaybeyondmy
comfortzoneanddefinitelybeyondthenormofGoodGirlfromthe‘burgh.
Ileanmyheadagainsttheplane’scoolwindowtryingtocalmandsoothemyself.I
thinkbackoverthepastfewweeks.MyfacestartstoburnasIrecallmytimehome
fortheholidays.WappyandBazerhoveredoverme,atalossforwhattodo.They
pepperedmewithquestionsaboutmyplansforthefutureandweredismayedto
discoverthattheonlythingIknewforsurewasthatIwasgoingtoMarzipan.This
didnotsitwell.Itrytohidemyannoyance,whichismostlywithmyselfforhaving
nojoborplans,butmyannoyanceflaresoftenandIenduppokingatthem.
IdidnofavorstomyselfwhenIfinallycan’tresistanylongerandgushaboutMio
andtheEwoks.I,inallmyinfinitenewbiewisdom,amonacrusadetoconvert
anyonewhoiswillingtolisten.Thisisamazing!Youhavetotryit!I’masobnoxious
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asthoseguyswhocomeknockingonyourdoorwithaBibleinhand.Ihaven’t
caughtonthatexposingsomewhatesotericspiritualpracticesandideastopeople
whoaren’tinterestedoraremoretraditionalandconservativeisarecipefor
extremesuspicion.ImakethisfatalmistakewithWappyaftertellingheraboutthis,
like,totallyawesomemitotethatIwenttothisweekend.
ThereareahalfdozenofMio’steachersscatteredacrossLosAngelesandwhileeach
tendstohavetheirowncircleofstudents,theyalsooffereventsthatdrawtheentire
communitytogether.Amitoteisonesuchevent.I’mnotsurewhyIwouldbe
interestedingoingtoameditationceremonythatlastsallnight,butsomehowIam.
Imean,really,whowantstositupallnightwithbriefperiodsofsleepinbetween?
Won’tIbeexhaustedinthemorning?What’sthepurpose?Andweneedtobring
sleepingbags?AmIenteringtheTwilightZone?
Tita,whoishostingthemitote,explains.Ourmindsaredreamingallthetime,both
whenweareawakeandasleep.Yep,gotthatfromCarrot-topandQ-tip’sclasses.
Mostofthetime,ourmindischattingaway,expendingourvaluableenergyonits
opinions,judgments,worriesandwehavenoawarenessthatit’sdoingso.Theword
mitotemeans“chaos”likethecacophonyofnoiseinacrowdedmarketplace.Ifwe
interruptoursleepcycle,ournormaldefensesgrowtiredandwecanoftenbetter
hearthemind’schatter.Ifwe’relucky,wecanalsoslipintoadeeperplaceof
stillnessandconnecttosource.
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Itrytotakethisallin.Mymindisquiteclearlyandloudlysaying,“Thissoundslike
sleepdeprivationtome.Andwithabunchofout-therepeople.Areyousureyoucan
trustthem?What’sreallygoingtohappeninthemiddleofthenight?”Ihearya.But
myheartisintrigued.Iwanttogo.Notjustfortheceremonyandexperience,but
alsobecauseI’mfascinatedandperhapsabitintimidatedbyTita.
WhileCarrot-topissweetandeasytorelateto,TitacomesoffashowIwould
pictureafemaleshaman.Forstartsshehasthelooksthatmatchmystereotype,
withthejetblackhair,brownskin,anddarkeyes.Shetendstowearearthcolored
tonesaccentuatedwithethnic-lookingjewelrywithhealingstonesandantique
silverthatisstunningandwhichshe’smadeherself.Butit’smuchmorethanlooks
orcoolbling.ShehasaqualitythatIcan’tquiteputmyfingeron.Althoughshe’son
theshortside,dareIsaysquat?,Icantellshe’sanenergeticpowerhousedespiteher
smallstature.AlthoughI’vebeenateventsthatshe’sattended,I’venevergoneto
oneofhers.Sowithsometrepidation,Isignuptogotomyfirstmitote.
Thenightismaddeningandfrustratingandtiringandenergizingandrevealing,all
atthesametime.Yes,itwasMitoteMadness.Ican’tdecideifIlikemitotesafterthis
firstone,butthepartofmethatisonthispathdespitewhatmymindhastosayis
hooked.Iwantmore.Andinthedaysafterward,Icontinuetofeelthenight’seffects.
MyenergyincreasesandI’mmoreawareofpatternsandhabitsthathadbeena
mysterytome.Afterafewweeks,Ihaveforgottenthepainofbeingupforthenight
andamonanupswingfromallthegoodvibes.
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Someandmybig-mouthgushtoWappyabouthowcoolamitoteisandhow
enlightenedallmynewfriendsareandhowamazingTitais.Noneofthisgoesover
wellwithWappers.Youdidwhat?Sataroundanaltarlitbycandlesallnight?Sleptin
aroomwithabunchofstrangersinsleepingbags?Listenedtoallthevoicesinyour
head?Areyououtofyourmind?
Ummmm….Yeah?
WhenreframedfromWappy’spointofview,itdoessoundabitcrazy.ThemoreI
trytoexplainmywayout,backtosolidground,thedeeperholeIdigformyself.
Wappyendsthecallwith,“Idon’tlikethisonebit.”
OfcourseallofWappy’sfearsandconcernsreflectmyowninnerdoubts.TheGood
Girlinmeissadthatmamaain’thappy.TheRebelinmewantstokeepgoingjustto
pissoffmyparents.TheNewlyEnlightenedOnewantshertojointheclub.Can’tshe
seehowgreatthisis?Andfrommyhighhorse,can’tsheseehowmuchthiswould
improveherlife?
Afterthislessthanpositiveendorsement,Iwiselydecidethatchatteringnon-stop
abouttheEwoksisnotagoodchoicewithmyparents.Still,I’malsodyingtoshare
mynewfoundpassionwithsomeone.Anyone.SoIconcoctacockamamieplan.I’ll
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organizeanintentceremonyformyfriends’AnnualNewYear’sEveParty!Whata
perfectwaytostartofftheNewYear!
Withadirectiontochannelmyenergy,IgathersuppliesbestIcaninadecidedly
non-woo-woocity.IbrieflyruntheplanbyTech,thearchitectIworkedforduring
summersofffromcollegeandwhohadbecomeatravelingbuddyandclosefriend,
whoishostingtheparty.Techdoesn’tsaynobutisrathercoolaboutthewhole
affair.Inmyenthusiasmandblindness,Itakehimlukewarmresponseasayes.
Iagonizeoverthedetails.ThisisthefirstceremonyI’veleadandIwantittobe
powerful.ItfeelsmeaningfulthatI’llbedoingmyfirstritualinmyhometown.
NewYear’srollsaroundandTechandhisfriendsareintocelebratingthetraditional
way–withappetizers,alcohol,andmerriment.Asmidnightdrawsnear,Isomehow
managetogatherthecrowdandexplainmyplan.Thereisalotofeye-rollingand
mutedlaughter.ButI’mdeterminedandalittlezealous.Ewoksarethebestthing
sinceslicedbread,ifnotsinceJesus!Everyonecouldlearnasomewisdomifthey’d
justreadthebook!Takeaclass!Changetheirlives!Thisdoesnotwinmeanyfans.
Oneortwobravesoulsattempttofollowmyinstructionstowritesomethingthey’d
liketogetridoffromthepastyearanddropitintothefire,thenannouncetheir
intentfortheNewYear.Icautionthatthisisn’tjustmakingaNewYear’sResolution,
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thisisusingallthepowerofyourspirit.Therearesomeloudsnickersand
commentsaboutwhydidn’tIjustbringanOuijaboard.
Asthealcoholcontinuestoflow,thecrowdstartsmakingfunofeachother’sintents.
Thissetsoffachainreactionandsoonpeoplearecreatingridiculousintentstoplay
tothecrowdandsavefacefromhavingtospeakanysemblanceoftruthoutloud.
Midnightstrikeswhichgiveseveryonetheperfectexcusetoturnthereattentionto
kissing,cheering,andsinging.Islinkofftothebathroom.Ilookatmyselfinthe
mirror,tearsstreakingdownmyface.Nicework!Somuchforyourfirstceremony!I
silentlyberatemyself.Akinder,gentlervoicethenspeakstome.Onethatiswise
andloving.Perhapsnexttimeyoushouldconsideryouraudiencemorecarefully.It’s
notyourjobtoconvertanyoneorchangetheirlives.
Iconcur,butthatdoesn’tstopmyheartfromhurting–orforyearningtobebackin
L.A.withpeoplewho“get”meandareintothisnewwayoflife.Ifeellikethere’sa
warbrewingwithme–whereI’mfromversuswhereIwanttogo,whoIthinkIam
versuswhoisemergingfromdeepwithinme.IbelieveinwhatI’mlearningfromthe
Ewoks.AndI’malsoequallysurethatI’mnotsureifIbelieveitatall.Growingpains
allaround.
Itwilltakeseveralyearsformetofullyrecognizethatit’snotmyjobtoconvert
anyone.BelievingthatIknowwhat’sbestforsomeoneelse’spathisnotrespectful,
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especiallywhenIhavesomuchworktodoonmyself.Butinthoseheadyearlydays,
Iwasfiredupandreadytoconquertheworldwithmynewspiritualknow-how.
ButIhadenoughsensetostarteditingwhatIdoanddon’ttellWappyandBazer.I
amcarefulwhatIsayaboutgoingtoMarzipan.Whilenotknowingthedetailsis
probablyhelpfulinnotfeedingWappy’soveractiveimagination,italsocreatesa
generalfeelingofsuspicionand“you’renottellingmeeverything.”DamnedifIdo
anddamnedifIdon’t!
Ikeepconfrontingmynervousnessaboutallthewackynewsituationsthatarise
fromhangingoutwithshamans.Ipracticewatchingmymindhaveafielddaywith
unfamiliarlogic-lessinfoandsituationsanddomybesttostayopenandneutraland
notletmymindrunawaylikeawildmustang.
TheplanehutssometurbulenceandI’mbumpedbackintothepresentmoment.The
captainremindsustofastenourseatbelts,it’sgoingtobeabumpyridebackto
Earth.Howapropos.
Webumpandthumpourwaydowntoaroughlanding.Aswewalkdownthe
jetway,Carrot-topandTitanodtowardtheportalandsmile.Iremembermyintent,
toknowmyselfasGod,ormoreappropriatelyaGoddess.Toletgoofmyprogram,of
myGoodGirlsoIcanbetotallyfree.Ismiletomyself,“I’mgoingtothePlaceWhere
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theGoodGirlBecomesaGoddess.”I’mimpressedwithmypunonMarizpan’sname.
Iclosemyeyesforafewsteps,reallystewinginmyintent.
Justthenawaveofenergywellsupinsideofme,launchingitselfpastmyheartand
throatandonupthroughmyhead.Ifeelinstantlydizzyandnauseous.Somuchso,I
actuallystaggertowardoneofthewalls.Carrot-topgivesmealookofconcern,
glancingatTitaintheprocess,butIputonabravefaceandkeepwalking.Ibrushit
offtoalltheturbulenceandstridethroughtheportalasconfidentlyasIcangiven
thatbothmyheadandstomacharespinning.
Istepthroughthedoorandfeeltheenergyintensify.Q-tiplooksoverhisshoulder
andsays,“WelcometoMexico!”
TooBigforMyBritches
ThecharteredbusishurtlingtowardsMarzipanandit’sallIcandotokeepfrom
hurling.Insteadofabating,myheadacheandnauseahasgottenstrongerand
strongerthecloserwegettoMarzi.I’mdoingmybesttoinhalewaterasIknow
frompastexperiencethatIamsensitivetoaltitude–notthatMexicoCityisthat
high,butwaterdoesn’tseemtobehelping.
AsCarrot-topmakesherwaydowntheaisleofthebus,shetakesonelookatmy
deathlywhitefacepresseduptothebuswindowandasks,“Areyouokay?”I
mumblethatI’msureI’llbefine,butIdon’tfeelsohotrightnow.Carrot-toppatsmy
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shoulderwithsympathy,“Energysickness.Happenstoalotofpeoplehere,
especiallytheirfirsttime.”
Thisdiagnosisdoesn’tmakemefeelmuchbetter.IthoughtIwascominghereto
healandbefullofloveandlight(squeal)!!!Instead,Ifeellikedeathwarmedover.I
hadheardaboutEwokshavingahardtimewiththeenergyhere,butIhadbeen
certainthatwouldn’thappentome.Iwasn’tevensureIbelievedthattherewas
especiallystrongenergyatthepyramids(howcoulditbestrongerthananywhere
else?)andbesides,I’llbeimmunetothatbizarrestuff.Luckily,Iamnotafortune
tellerandcan’tseeintothefuture,soIhavenoideathatthisisjustasmall
precursorofwhatistocome.Notjustforme,butforlotsoftravellersonthistrip.
Iturnmyattentiontowhat’swhizzingpastoutthewindow.EventhoughIhavenow
spentplentyoftimeintheworseneighborhoodsinourgreatnation,itisnomatch
forwhatI’mwitnessinginfrontofme.Mostofthehousesalongthefreewayareno
morethanshantiescobbledtogetherwithdiscardedpiecesofcorrugatedmetal.Not
oneofthemoresturdyhomesmadeofconcreteisfinished.Mostsporttangledwebs
ofrebarpokingoutofthesecondstorieswithroofsthatareopentothesky.Thereis
trasheverywherealongtheroads,straydogsthatlookemancipated,andtonsof
politicalgraffiti.
Andyetthereisacertainalivenessintheroadsidestandsthatareofferingfresh
mangosandjustgrilledtacos,inthechildrenwhoareplayingapickupgameof
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soccerinthehighwaymedian,inthemanybicyclistswhoareweavinginandoutof
carsandpedestrians.It’samishmoshofcolorandactivityandabsolutelyno
buildingcodes,justchaos.WhichisnothelpingmyheadorbellysoIclosemyeyes
andfallintoasemi-sleepstate.
Deeprumblingvibrationsroustmeoutofmyslumber.We’vetransitionedfromthe
highwayandarenowonthecobblestoneroadthatringsthepyramidcomplex.I
lookupexpectantlyandcatchmyfirstglimpseofthepyramids.Theytakemybreath
away.Eveninthefardistance,theyaremammoth.Andtherearemanyofthem.
UnlikeEgyptianpyramids,thesearesteppedupinlevels.Theysitheavilyonthe
ground,butalsohaveaneleganceandbeautyastheyreachtowardstheheavens.
HowisitpossiblethatuntilImetMio,IhadnoideathatpyramidsexistedinNorth
America?Thesearedefinitelyoneofthemanywondersoftheworld,whetherthey
maketheofficiallistornot.
Weskirtaroundtheouterringroad,jostlingalongslowly,whilemorenimblecars
blithelypassthebusandheadintooncomingtraffic.Icringeathowcloselythey
whizzpasswithplentyofnear-misses.Apparentlytherearelessroadruleshereas
well.
WeturnintothegatedentranceforourClubMedhotelandtheguardatthe
gatehousethoroughlyinspectsthebusasifwemightbesneakingterroristsintothe
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compound,insteadofalotoflovey-doveytourists.Ithinkmybladdermightexplode
alongwithmyhead.Mybellywantstojoinintoo.Ipraythatwemakeitthroughthe
guard’sinspectionsoon.
Finally,wepullupinfrontofthehotelandthebusdisgorgesus.Mostofusseemto
stumblewithunevenfootingfromthecool,darknessofthebusintothehot
sunshine.Iquicklytakeinthecactiandbougainvilleathatarebeautifully
contrastingthelovelytwo-toneceruleanbluewalls.Iracepastthestaff’swelcoming
committeeastheypointinthedirectionofthebaño.Downthelong,coolhallswith
itssolid,heavywoodenfurnitureandartifactsfromthepyramidsandintothe
bathroom,whereIceremoniouslyemptybothmybellyandmybladder.Welcometo
Marzipan!Thetriphasbegun.
Ihopenooneheardme.
Ifeelnominallybetterbutstilldizzyandslightlynauseouswithagoodheadache.I
limpbacktotheentranceareaandsitdowninoneofthealcoveswhiletheporters
sortoutluggageandourfearlessleadersuntanglecheck-in,roommates,andkeysin
Spanglish.IamtryingnottofeelsorryformyselfasIwatchotherEwoksshriekand
hugastheyarereunitedwithsoulbrothersandsistersthattheyhaven’tseeninso
long,ohmygod–whetheritbesincetheairportorsincethelastmajorshindig.
Theyareahuggy,kissybunch.
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MyroommateBeadscomestocollectmeandI’mrelievedthatshe’ssomeoneIknow
andlikefromL.A.Wewalkthroughthecenterofthehotelandaregreetedby
mariachimusic,ahugespreadoffreshlycutfruit,andwaitersinformalwear
offeringtraysofapretty,multi-coloredtropicaldrink,therimsoftheglasscoatedin
crystallizedsugar.
ImomentarilyforgethowI’mfeelingasI’mtransfixedwiththeinnercourtyard.
Opentoskywithwideshadedwalkwaysontwofloors,it’sanoasisafterthegrimy
busride.Palmtreesandflowersringtheouteredgeofferingsomeshadetothe
lovelypool,lawnchairs,andoutdoordiningarea.Eventhoughwehadbeenwarned
thatthisClubMedwasn’tlikethetypicalClubMeds,forstarterswewerehundreds
ofmilesfromthenearestoceanandthislocationdoesn’tofferanysportyactivities,I
feellikeI’minparadise.It’soneofthenicerhotelsIhaveeverstayedin.
I’mequallytouchedbythewaitstaff.Assoonastheyseetheteachersinourgroup
whohavebeenherecountlesstimes,theirfacesgenuinelylightup.Bighugsand
slapsonthebacksarebeingexchanged.IhadheardthatoneofthereasonsEwoks
lovecominghereisbecausethehotelstaffislikefamilyandIseenowthatthisisno
exaggeration.Ofcoursethestaffisgratefulforourtouristdollars,butIwillseethat
theyalsobendoverbackwardstomakeusfeelathome.
Afterquickadmonishments–undernocircumstancesshouldwedrinkthewateror
leavethehotelcomplexbyourselves–weareinstructedtosettleinandmeetina
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fewhoursinthelibrary.Itakethisasanexcusetogofindmyroom.Besidesfeeling
physicallyoutofsorts,I’mabitoverwhelmedatthesizeofthegroup.Apparently
wehavetakenovermostofthehotel.MyheadisspinningthatIactuallyamherein
thefabledMarzipan.
BeadsandIquicklyunpackandI’mastoundedattheamountofclothesshehas
brought.Ipackedoneoutfitperdaysuitableforhikingarounddustypyramids.She,
ontheotherhand,hasbroughtmultipleoutfitsforeachday,manyofwhichare
fairlydressy.Sheseesmeeyeingherwardrobeandexplainsthatafteradayatthe
pyramidsmuckingaboutindirt,tears,andsnot,everyonecomesback,showersand
changesintoclothesforsocializingandblowingoffenergyatthebaratnight.She’s
obviouslyaveteranandbeenherebefore.
Hmmm.ItseemsthatI’mgoingtobeabitdirtyfortheremainderofthetrip.Ona
wildwhim,Ihadpackedonepairoftightblackpantswithredflamesthatclimbed
upthelegs.IthoughtImightbebraveenoughtowearitonthelastnighthere,when
therewasrumoredtobeabigcelebration.ImightbewearingthemabitmorethanI
thought.Beadskindlyofferstoloanmeclothesifneeded.
AsIshuttheclosetdoorswithmypaltryselectionandBeads’bounty,Ivowthatthis
willbethelasttimethatItravellighttoMarzi.Withporterswillingtohaulour
suitcasesupthestairs,Iwilldefinitelybepreparednexttime.ThenIfeelgoofyand
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guiltyaboutworryingwhatIwillwearonaspiritualjourney.Really?Myclothes
matter?
Ifeelmyselfquicklycontracting.Notfeelinggood.Lotsofstrangerswhoallseemto
knoweachother,whichmakesmefeelabitinsecure.Nottherightclothing.Maybe
thistripwasn’tsuchagoodidea?Icatchmyselffallingintojudge-victimmodeand
gentlytalkmyselfintolyingdown.Didn’tIwanttoclimboutofmyrut?Wasn’tI
tryingtoletgooftheGoodGirlwhoisoverlyconcernedaboutwhatpeoplethink
andwho’sintheinclub?
Iremindmyselfthatit’snormaltofeeluncertainandoutofsortsinanewsituation,
especiallyoneasnewasjourneyingtoanothercountrywithagroupofspiritual
seekers.It’sgoingtobeokay.Thekindvoiceinsidemyheadtellsme.Youwere
meanttocomehere.Thisisyourspiritualhome.
Andwiththosewords,Ipromptlypassoutintoadeepsleep.
Assoonasmyeyesclose,I’mwhiskedthroughaswirlofenergyandfindmyself
walkingthroughadarkundergroundtunnel.It’shotanddamp.Isenseheavy.Heavy
permeatingtheair,ahugeweightaboveme.SomehowI’mbelowthepyramids
makingmywaytothecenter.ThesceneshiftsandI’mdancingwithanenormous
featherheaddress,bellsonmyankles,barefeet.Otherdancerswhirlaroundme.We
aredancingtoworshipasungod.Shift.I’minaquiet,stillspaceinanotherpartof
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thepyramidcomplex.Old,veryold.Brushingandbraidingthehairofmyyounger
self.Anotherscene,Iambeingenergeticallywashedoffwithfeathersandcrystals
andhealingsalvesandsage.Likeakaleidoscope,thesceneskeepswirlingand
shifting,onemorphingintoanother.
Itrytoholdontotheimages,tounderstandwhatIamseeing,tofigureoutwhenall
thishappened,buttheyaremovingsofastandareoftenmoresensationsthanclear
memories.Eventually,Isurrenderanddriftintothemostbeautiful,black,starspeckledsky.Avoid.IcouldspendeternityhereandinmanysensesIdo.
Minutesorcenturieslater,Idonotknow,Beadsgentlyshakesmeawake.“It’stime
forclass,”shesaysasIgroggilyorientmyselftoourroom.Onceawake,Ifeel
infinitelybetter,moreacclimatedtoMarzipan.I’mnotclutching,clenching,or
bracingmyselfagainsttheenergyquiteasstronglyasbefore.Ihopoutofbed,run
myfingersthroughmycurlsandfollowBeadstostartmytriphereinShamanGirl’s
spiritualhomeland.
IhaughtilydecidethatI’vehadenoughofbeingsick.I’mintunewiththeenergy
herenow.Won’tbefeelinglikethatagain!
Marzilaughs,rollshereyes,andrubsherhandstogethergleefully.ThereisaMarzi
virginthat’salittletoobigforherbritches,asGramusedtosay,evenifshedoes
havehotpantswithhipflamesrunningupthesides.
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TheNagual
Ipsychemyselfupandputmyboldfaceonasweheadtothelibrary.Icanberather
quietandabitreservedincrowds,orIcanshineitonandbethelifeoftheparty.
Perhapsit’smyGemininatureormaybeit’srelatedtowhateverphasethemoonis
in.TheroomisstartingtofillupandIscanthecrowdforEwoksIknow.Igreeta
fewandthendecideImightaswellbeasocialbutterflyandintroducemyselfto
someofthepeopleIdon’t.Betterthanfeelinglikeawallflower,right?
Aroundtheperimeteroftheroomarewide,built-inadobebenchesthatcurve
invitinglyoutofthewallsandhavebeenlinedwithcomfycushions.Oneofthe
benchesisoccupiedbyasuper-cuteblondiewithadazzlingsmilethatheflashes
whenEwokfriendscomeovertoplopakissonhischeek.He’slayingdownacross
thebench,readingwhatlookslikeajournal,withjustenoughroomformeto
squeezeinnexttohim.HeseemstobeattractingafaramountofattentionsoI’llbe
suretomeetplentyofthepeepsintheroomwhoarecomingbytogreethim.
“MindifIjoinyou?”Iask.
Tricksterlooksupatme,backwardsoverthetopofhishead,andwithacheeky
Australianaccentsays,“Absolutelymate.”
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NowI’mreallyintrigued.Ididn’tknowtherewassomeoneherefromAustralia.He
looksliketheconsummatesurferboyandIcaneasilypicturehimhanging10witha
groupofadoringgirlsinbikinischeeringhimonfromshorealongthecoastofthe
LandDownUnder.I’vebeenbattingaroundtheideaoftrekkingtoAustralia,maybe
Icanpickhisbrainforideasonwheretogoandseesomemorespiritual,nontouristysights.
WeexchangepleasantriesandnamesandIaskhimhowhediscoveredMio.Hisbest
friendfromhighschoolmadetheintroductionandvoilahereheis.Afewmore
friendscomeovertosayhellotohimandlaughhystericallyashespeaks.Ifindthis
abitodd,andPlayboykeepswinkingatbothmeandthem,butIbrushitoff.There
arealotofeccentricpeopleinthecrowd.
TricksterintroducesmetoAirMan.Asblonde,quick,andplayfulasTricksteris,
AirManishisopposite.Darkhair,quiet.Deepbutwithadashofgoofinessthrownin.
Anartisticspiritforsure.IlearnthatAirManisalsofromL.A.andstudieswith
anotheroneoftheteacherswhoIhaven’tmetyet,buthaveheardof.AirMansettles
inonapillownearourfeet.Imakeanotetohangoutwiththesetwoduringthetrip
–theyarethesameageasmeandareverycoolandintriguing.
Thepuppypileofpeopleonblankets,pillowsandbackjacksgrowsinfrontofus
untiltheroomisfull.Theroomgrowsquietwhenablonde-hairedangelstandsup
infrontoftheroom.Hernear-whitehairmakesherappearasifahalois
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surroundingherhead.Andshehasabeamingsmile.Whiletheroomshiftsand
settles,someoneclosetohermakesacommentandthesweetestlaughpeelsoutof
hermouth.Sheisradiant.SheisPink.
Icanfeeltherespectandloveintheroomthatisdirectedtowardher.Iwillsoon
discoverthatPinkisMio’sbrain.Sherunshisempirewithbothano-nonsense
grounded-nessmixedinwithahugelove-filledheart.Ewoksloveherandfearher.
Shewon’tplaywithanyone’sdrama,specialdemands,orexcuses.Butshe’llalso
makeyoufeellikeamillionbuckswhensheturnsherattentiontoyou.
Ihangontoeverywordasshegoesovertherulesforthetrip.Don’tbotherMiowith
logisticalproblemsorconcerns.Seeyourteacherorfindher.Letgoofneedingto
knowwhat’shappeningnext.Wewillbetakencareofandinformeddaybyday.Stay
withthegroup.Takecareofyourhuman–bringbottledwater,sunscreen,snacks
outtothepyramidseachday.OnlyeatatthehoteloratComadres,afamily-run
restaurantwherethesanitationandfoodprepmeetAmerican(orcloseto
American)standards.Ifyougetsick,letyourteacherknow.ThelistgoesonandI
hopethatIcanrememberallthedo’sanddon’ts.
Pinkfinishesherspielwiththereminderthatweareheretodoourwork.Toletgo
ofbeliefsthatnolongerserveusandtoconnecttoourtrueinnernature.Don’t
wasteanyone’stimewithsilliness.
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Anyquestions?Pinkanswersoneortwogenuinequestionsandalsocutsoffafew
peoplemid-sentencewhoobviouslyhadn’tabsorbedherwarningsaboutneedingto
know.SherunsatightshipandIcanseeshewantstogiveeveryonetheinfowe
need,whilealsogivingthetimetoMiowhohasstartedtopacebehindher.Q&Ais
overandMiostepsuptobat.
Withhislovelyliltingvoice,Miobeginsspeakingslowlywithintent.Theentireroom
iscaptivatedandhangingontoeveryword.
“Mazipan.ThePlaceWhereManBecomesGod.”
Therearemeaningfulpausesbetweensentences.It’sasifheistransmitting
informationandenergyinbetweenthewords.
MymindflickersasImentallycorrecthim,“ThePlaceWheretheGoodGirlBecomes
aGoddess.”Iampleasedwithmypun,thenquicklycastigatemyselftopay
attention.
“Thisisthehomeofmyancestors,theEwoks.Forthousandsofyears,Ewokshave
livedinthissacredcenter.Themasterswholivedandtaughtherepasseddown
secretknowledgeonhowtolivealifeofloveandhappiness.Foryearsthe
knowledgeneededtobeprotectedandkeptsecret.Butnowthelightischanging
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anditistimetorevealthisspiritualpracticetoyou.Today,youaretherecipientof
thiswisdom.”
Mio’seyessparkleandpenetrateeachoneofourbeings.
“TheMastersbuiltMarizpanwithintent.Intentistheconnection,theforcebetween
thenagualandthetonal.Canyoufeelit?”
Mio’shandmakesacircularmotion.Heswirlsavortexofenergythatripplesout
throughthecrowd.
Ifeelastirringwithinme.Ibouncebetweenhiswordsandthepalpableenergyin
theroom,whichispullingmeintoafuzzy,hazystateofcalmbliss.Nagual.Iknow
thatMioisanagual,someonewhocanguideotherstoconnectwithspirit.Hewas
bornanagual,wastrainedbynagualsandhasnamedothersinourgroupnaguals.
Nagualsarecharacterizedbyhavinggreatpower,astrongwill,andnofear.
Theoretically,weallhavethepotentialtobecomenagualsthroughmasteringour
awarenessandusingourintent.CouldanagualbeborntoMuggles?Iwonder.I
wishwithallmymighttobecomeanagual,butdoubtfulthatIcouldeverbeone.
Nagual.Iwantit-eventhoughI'mnotcompletelyclearonwhatthatlookslike,
means,orwhathoopsImighthavetojumpthrough.
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YetforallIthinkIknowaboutnaguals,mymindcan’tquitefollowhowthisNahuatl
wordisbeingusedinthiscontext.Andwhattheheckistonal?FortunatelyMio
elaborateswhilestillholdingtheenergyintheroom.
“Everythingthatexistsintheuniverse,allthatwecanseeandthatwecannotsee,is
partofonelivingbeing.Youarepartofthislivingbeing.Thesunispartofthisliving
being.Themoon,theoceans,theplants,therocks.Butalsoemotions,spirit,
knowledgeispartoftheuniverse,life,lifeforce.”
“Thenagualistheunknown,theunknowable.It’stheenergybetweenthestars.It’s
whatwecannotknowwithourreason.Thetonaliseverythingthatwecanseeand
perceivewithoursenses.TonalisMotherEarthandFatherSun.”
Anotherwaveofenergyratchetsuptheintensityanotch.
“Intentistheconnectionbetweenthenagualandthetonal.Intentislifeforce.Itis
God.Spirit.Youareheretomasteryourintent.”
Miopausestoletthatsinkin.
“Butfirstyoumustmasteryourawareness.Tomorrowwewillenterthesnakeand
beginourjourney.Youmustpreparetobeeatenbythedouble-headedserpent.”
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Miolooksateachoneofusintheroomintheeye.
“Nowcloseyoureyes.”
WedoandIsensethatMiohaslefttheroom,whilehisenergyisstillevidentlyhere.
Mymindscurriesaroundandthroughallthisinformation.I’msupposedtomaster
myintent?How?ButfirstIneedtomastermyawareness?HowdoIevendothat?
Andwhat’sthisaboutsnakes?Pleaseletthatbeametaphor!Isighandsquirmabit,
andfinally,mercifully,theenergyintheroomovercomesmyresistanceand
questionsandIfallintoacalm,clearquietspace.
Youcouldhereapindropintheroom–ifthatwaswhatyouwerelisteningfor,but
wearenot.Wehavebeentransportedintoaspacethatsimultaneouslyfeelslight
andheavy,quickandtimeless.Ihavenoideahowlongwesittogetherinthisway.
Finally,IhearrustlingasEwoksbegintogetupandsilentlymaketheirwaybackto
theirbedrooms.
Tomorrowwillbeabigdaywhenwesetfootwithinthecomplexofpyramidswhere
we’llstarttoawakenandknowourselvesasmorethannamesorbodies,morethan
whatjobwehave(ordon’thave)orwherewearefrom,morethanjusttonal.We’ll
bejourneyingthroughasnakethathasbeenknowntoswallowyouwhole.Whenit
spitsyououttheotherside,youhaveaminimalchanceofknowingyourselfasthe
divine,thenagual.
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IstandtoheadbacktomyroomandTrickstercatchesmyeye.“G’nite,”hewhispers.
AirMangivesmealoopysmile.Idriftofftobedwithmyheartpounding.IfI’mgoing
tobeeatenalivebyadouble-headedserpent,atleastitwillbesurroundedby
heavenlylookinghotties.
PreparetoDie
“Topofthemorningtoyou.”
Ispinaroundtoseewhohassnuckupbehindmeandgreetedmewithafull-onIrish
brogueasI’mwaitinginlineforbreakfast.Trickster’seyesaredancingwithdelight.
“Bitofaroughnight,eh?”
Mymind,whichisnotoriouslyslowinthemorningsandevenmoresoafterlast
night,myfirstinMarzi,iswhirling.Huh?Who?How?DoIreallylookasbadasI
feel?
Tricksteranswersthatoneforme,“Lookin’aweebitpeakedonthisglorious
morningarewe?”
Imanagetocollectmyselfenoughtoshuffleafewfeetclosertothedivinesmelling
foodandstammerout,“Whataminute.WhathappenedtoyourAustralianaccent?
YousaidthatyouwerefromAustralia.”
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Trickstergrinsbroadly.“Nomelove.NeverdidsayIwasfromtheLandofOz.Ido
believethatyoumadeanassumption.”
ThefightingIrishinmeperksrightup.MakingassumptionsisverboteninMio’s
crowd.Isayhotly,“Aplausible,rationalassumptionbasedonyouraccent.Where
areyoureallyfrom?”
“Wouldn’tyouliketoknow?”TrickstersaysnowusingafineEnglishaccent.
Yes,Iwouldliketoknow,verymuchso,butIwon’tgivehimthesatisfactionof
knowingthatsoIturnbacktothebuffetthatisbountiful.Kitchenladiesaredoling
outmadetoorderomeletsandgrillingupfreshpan-KA-keys.Therearebeansand
handmadetortillasandanentiretablepiledhighwithtropicalfruit–papaya,
mango,pineapple.Thisisnothinglikethekitchenladylunchesfrommyinner-city
schooldays.MymouthiswateringandeventhoughIstillfeelslightlynauseousand
dizzy,mybellyisgrowling.
Ipilemyplatehigh,saygraciousandfeelproudthatIwasabletoordermyeggsen
espanol.AtleastsomegoodhascomefromtheMexicanManheartbreak.Iturnand
scanthelargediningroomlookingforafamiliarfacetojoin.I’mhavingflashbacks
tohighschool.Ihatedthecommotionofthecafeteriaandwasalwayssupremely
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gratefulthatmycliquehadstakedouttableswhereweregularlymeteverydaysoI
didn’thavetofigureoutwheretogoorfeelsohaplessintheseaofhighschoolers.
MaybeI’llfindacliqueheretoo?OrhaveImaturedenoughtoseekoutdifferent
tablesanddifferentpeopleeachmeal?
BeforeIhavetomakeanymonumentaldecisions,Carrot-topwavesmeover.She
smileskindlyatme.I’msuremyfacerevealedmyuncertainty.She’sdeepin
conversationwithanotherLAstudenttoherleft,butshepauseslongenoughtosay
“Goodmorning!Feelingbetter?”Inodhalf-heartedlyasshegivesmeaquick
squeezeonmyleg.Idigintomyfood.
I’mstillfeelingalittleadriftwhenaHawaiiangodappearsatmyside.Iliterallyhave
toblinkseveraltimestomakesureI’mnothallucinating.Jet-blacklonghairspirals
downhisshouldersintightshinycurls.HeisoneofthelargermenIhaveeverseen,
onlypartiallyamirageduetohismuscularsizecombinedwiththewizard-likeaura
thatisradiatingfromhim.Beautifuleyesandtannedbronzedskin.“MayIjoinyou?”
Inodashelowershisenormousbodyintothechairnexttome.Forsomeonewhois
solarge,heisalsoverygraceful.“I’mKahuna,”hesaysandIcanimmediatelysee
wherehisnameisfrom.Hiseyesdigintomine.
“AreyoufromHawaii?”Iblurtoutandimmediatelyfeellikeadork.Aftermy
encounterwithTricksterIwanttoknowwhoI’mdealingwithwhich,hascausedme
tosoundlikeI’musingabadpickuplinebeforeanyone’shadtheircoffee.
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Withamightylaugh,heconfirmsthatheisandbeforeI’vemadeafurtherfoolof
myself,anotherEwokjoinsthetablethankfullydistractingeveryonewithmorning
greetings.MyheartisbeatingalittlefasterwithKahunaatmyside.Blessedly
Carrot-topturnsherattentiontowardme,rescuingmefromadditionallameness.
“Howwasyournight?”Carrot-topaskswithawrysmile.
IopttotellherthetruthandhopeIdon’tsoundlikeacompletevictim.“Itwasabit
rough,”Iadmit.Afterreturningtomyroombuzzingonenergy,Icouldn’tfallasleep
forhours.Itossedandturned,hopingmyrestlessnesswasn’tdisturbingBeads,
beforedroppingintoamurky,distortingsleep.Iwaslostinanunderworld,tryingto
unsuccessfullynavigatethick,muckycorridorsthatdidn’tseemtoleadanywhere.
Whatfeltlikeminuteslater,Ijumpedstraightoutofmybed,feethittingthecoldtile
floor,attheconcussivesoundofanexplosion,whichIwouldhaveswornhappened
inourroom.“Whatthe??!?”Iyelp.
Beads,theconsummateMarziveteranmutteredhalf-asleep,“Don’tworry.Goback
tosleep.That’sthelocaltown’scelebrationofitspatronsaint.Happenseverytime
we’rehere.”
Fireworksaregoingoff,atuba??isoumpa-ingalongsideaboomingbassdrum,tinny
loudspeakersareblaringwhatsoundslikeapoliticaladinthemiddleofthenight.
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You’vegottobekiddingme!HowamIgoingtosleepwithallthisracket?Icrawl
backinbedandthrowapillowovermyhead,whichdoeszilchtosquelchthenoise
soI’mawakeforseveralmorehoursfuming.
WhywouldMioscheduleatripduringthesefestivities(whichhappenallthetime,
withoutnotice)?Whydoesn’tsomeonefromthehotelgoaskthemtotoneitdown?
Howcantheybesoinconsiderate?Throughmyhaughtyindignation,Iseeaglimpse
ofmyridiculousness.I’maguestinthiscountrybutmywayshouldrule.
“ButIneedmysleep,”Imoantomyself.“HowamIgoingtogoouttothepyramids
onnosleeptomorrow?”
Anothervoicepipesup,“Thisisallpartoftheprocess!”
Iwanttokill.Howisinducingmetowanttokillsomeonepartoftheprocessof
becomingmoreenlightened?
HearingCarrot-toprepeat,“It’sallpartoftheprocess”inreal-timewithfoodinfront
ofmeshakesmeoutofmynightmarememory.ThereisafirmbeliefamongEwoks
thateverysituationinlife,especiallytheuncomfortableones,areanopportunityto
seeyourbeliefs,decideiftheymakeyouhappy,andletgoofwhatdoesn’t.
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Asarelativenewcomertothegroup,I’mstillhavingdifficultybelievingthat
discomfortisGREAT!Welcome!Bienvenidos!IcanbarelyidentifyhowIthinkasthe
sourceoftheproblemandnotthef@!?headsaroundmewhoareactinglikeidiots.
ObviouslyIhaveawaystogobeforeanylettinggoisgoingtohappen.
Idecidenottoletmenewbie-victimhoodshowanyfartherandusethischanceto
askCarrot-Topwhatallthesnaketalklastnightwasabout.Ihopethatthisisn’t
abusingthe“ifyoudon’tneedtoknow,don’task”rule.I’mdyinghere.
“DidIunderstandMiocorrectlylastnight?Ithoughthesaidwe’dbeenteringa
snake?Orbeingeatenbyone?Maybeitwashisaccent?”
“Youheardright,”Carrot-topreplieswithouttheleastbitofreassurance.Shekeeps
asemi-seriousfaceforanotherhalf-second.Isshejoking?WhatdidIsignupfor?Is
ittoolatetogohome?
Carrot-topcanbeplayful,butistookindtoreallytakeadvantageofmyobviouslook
ofhorroronmyface.
Shegrins.ThankGod.
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Ireprimandmyselfforthinkingthattherecouldberealsnakesinvolved.Thenagain,
Mioisrumoredtobewillingtodowhateverittakestoguideyoutowardyour
personalfreedom.He’sanagualafterall.
“Marzipanwaslaidoutintheshapeofadouble-headedserpent,withthePlazaof
HellatoneendandthePalaceoftheButterfliesattheother.TheAvenueoftheDead
connectsthetwotogether.ThebuildersdesignedMarzisothatitreflectsthehuman
journeyofcreatingadreamofhellonearthandthepotentialweallhaveto
transcendthathellandenterheavenonearthbeforewedie.Whenwegoouttothe
pyramidstoday,we’llstartinhellandbeginwalkinguptheAvenueoftheDead,
throughaseriesofplazasthatwillhelphealoldwounds,gainawareness,andfocus
ourintent.”
Iampaddlingfuriouslytokeepupwithher.Hell?Butterflies?WalkingDead?
Carrot-toponceagainpatsmyknee.“Don’tworry.Youdon’thavetounderstandany
ofthisrightnoworevenknowaboutthelayout.You’llbedirectedwhattodoin
eachplaza.”Carrot-toptakesalookatthetime.“I’mgoingtorunbacktomyroom
beforewego.Don’tforgetyourhatandsunscreen…andpreparetodie!”Shewiggles
bothhereyebrowsandherfingersatmeasifshe’spretendingtocastaspell.She
deliversthelastlineinherbesthorrormovievoice.Andwiththatandabiggrin,
she’soff.Shehasabitofthetricksterinhertoo.
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“Hey,bella,youokay?”Kahunaalsohasfinishedhisconversationwithanotherone
ofourtablemates,turnedhisattentionbacktome,andgivenmeahalf-hugwithone
ofhisenormousbeararms.Tearsarethreateningtosproutoutofthecornersofmy
eyes.Stillabitwobblyfromfeelingsickyesterday.Nosleep.Trickynewfriends.
Talkofdeathandhellandsnakes.AndnowagorgeousguyI’vejustmetshowingme
kindness.It’salmosttoomuchtotake.
Inodaratherunconvincingyesandscrambletograbmystufffromunderthetable.
Imakeittothelobbybathroombeforethetearsaretricklingfullforcedownmy
face.Iseemtobemakinggoodfriendswithelbano.“Thissucks,”Ithinkfully
succumbingtomyvictim.“Idon’twanttobeonthisemotionalrollercoaster
anymore.I’msosickoffeelingthisway.MaybeIamreadytodie.”Metaphorically,
anotherpartofmymindclarifies,notwantingtomanifesttherealend-deal.Itakea
fewshudderingbreathsandwipemytearsoff.
I’msocaughtupinmyinternaldramathatIhardlynotethatKahuna,afine
specimenofamale,justcalledmebeautiful.Althoughmaleattentionwouldbegreat
formyshatteredegoandbrokenheart,I’vegotbiggerfishtofry.
Isquaremyshouldersandmarchdownthehallwaytomeetthegroup,preparedto
dieoutonthepyramids.Dunnowhatoffingmyselfinsidethebodyofasymbolic
snakeentails,butI’mreadyasIcanbe.
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FryDay
Pinkisrallyingthetroopsoutsidethehotel,sortingEwoksintogroups.Miois
pacingaround,withabiggrinonhisfaceandhandsclaspedbehindhisback.He’s
sportingwhatIlearniscalledanagualhat(whattherestoftheworldmight
attributetoIndianaJones.)Allthegroupleadersalsohaveoneofthesehatson,
lookingliketheyarereadytogooffonagrandadventureaslook-alikestotheir
fearlessleaders.Apparentlyit’sthecostumederigueurforEwoksinMarzipan.
WhilethegringosaredoingtheirbesttopullofMio’slook,Mioistotallyinhis
element,abundleofenergyandclearlyreadytogo.Hejustneedstherestofusto
getwiththeprogram.Heisweavinginandoutofthegroupcheerfullysayingover
andover,“It’sFryDay!Preparetofry!”Helooksoverlypleasedwithhimself,which
mightbehisusualstateorperhapsit’sduetohimcomingupwithapuninhis
secondlanguage.ItisFridayafterall.I’mnotsureifI’manymoreexcitedtofrythan
todie.
AsIsoondiscoverisparforthecourse,Miohasdeemedthatwewillnotbeeatenby
asnakefirst,wewillbegoingtoTetitla–tofry.Iassume(whoops)thathereferring
tofryingourmindsbutI’mnotentirelysure.AtthementionofTetitla,anexcited
ripplerushesthroughthecrowd.Ihearmurmursaboutblacklight,extremely
powerful,kindofdangerous.Otherscommentonhowunusualitisforhimtotake
newbiesthere.
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AndjustwhenIhadgottenusedtotheideaofmeetingthesnake…
BeforeIcangettheinsidescooponTetitla,Pinkisissuingtheordersfortheday.
Withinourgroups,whichwemuststickwithatalltimesandletthegroupleader
knowwhenwearesomuchasgoingtothebathroom,wearepairedup.Apparently
wewillbewalkingtothepyramidswithoureyesclosed(toshowwetrustourselves
andthestrangersaroundus?)andinsilence(meanttosymbolizethere’smorethan
onewayhumanscommunicate?Awaytogetusoutofourheads?Orsimplytheageoldteachertricktogetunrulystudentstoshutup).Startingnow!Let’sgo.
Whatevertherationale,thisisnoeasyfeatforabunchofnervous,ampedupon
energynewbieswhomakeupthemajorityofmygroup.Oh,andtheroadtothe
pyramidsispavedwithcobblesandhascolumnsthatprovideamostly
psychologicalbarrierbetweenthecarstravelinglight-speeddowntheroadandthe
tinysliverofa“sidewalk.”Witheyesclosedandatirregularintervalsandangles,the
funkybarricadesbecomeanotherobstacletonavigate.
Throughaseriesofgestures,mypartnerandIdecidethatIwillgofirst.Iamtense
andhardlybreathingforthefirstfewminutes,walkingwithmyfeetpickeduphigh
soIdon’tstumble–whichofcoursemakesmewalkawkwardlyandoff-balance
therebymakingmepronetostumbling.Ijumpeverytimeacarcomesrumbling
pastathyper-speed,peekingonceortwicetomakesureI’mnotabouttogetkilled.
Isthissomeformofhazingthenewbies?Whatdothelocalsthink?
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Yetafterafewminutes,Irelaxandwalkingeyesclosedbecomesalmostfunand
pleasant.I’mmoreintunewithmybreath,thesoundsandsmells.Ifeelconnectedto
mypartnerwhoisdoingafinejobofkeepingmeuprightandoutofharms’way.
Weswitchtakingturnsandwalkforwhatseemslikeforever.Pastthemain
entrancetothepyramids,finallyturningoffontoasmalldirtroadthatlookslikeit
leadstonowherebutapparentlyleadstobothAlbercaGabi,asoupedupswimming
poolwitharustyplaygroundforlocals,andtheominoussoundingTetitla.
IfeellikeIaminabizarredreamwhichIabsorbasIguidemypartner.The
pyramidsloominthedistance,clearlybeingfromanothertimeandplace.Wepassa
mulepullingacartthatiseasilyovertakenbyabling-edoutbarriomobile,alow
riderthatwouldhavegainedmystudents’nodsofapprovalbackinWatts.Sleek
Greyhoundbusescarryboatloadsoftourists.Vendorscampedoutalongtheroad
sellingFantaandothersickenly-sweetlookingcolasinunearthlyun-naturalcolors.
Stonewallslinenarrowsidestreetswithpapelpicadoflappingabout,cutpaper
decorationshungacrossthedustyroadsonstring,creatingacolorfulcanopyabove.
Theancient,themodern,thedirtpoorandtherichtouristareallmumbojumboon
topofoneanother.
WekeepwalkingandfinallywearriveatTetitla.Thecomplexhasacorrugated
metalroofcoveringmostoftheruins,alongwithametalgateacrossthefront.We
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aretoldtorestintheshade,atleastwewon’tbefryingmyIrishskininthesun,
whileafewofteachersandMiogotobribetheguards.Largegroupslounging
aroundmeditatingisofficiallyagainsttherules,butafewpesosandawinkandwe
arewelcomedwithopenarmsandbiggrins.
Theold-timersfollowMiointoTetitla,whilenewbiesaredirectedtowaitoutside.
Afterwhatseemslikeforever,Willow,oneofMio’steacherscomesoutagivesusa
sternlecture.Tetitlawastheplaceofthemasters.Itisfilledwithblacklight.(No
furtherexplanation,justanintentfulstareintoeachofoureyeswithasilent
warningyou-know-what-that-meanslook.)Willowcontinues.Theenergyhereisthe
mostpowerfuloutofanywhereinMarzi.Wewillvisitthreeareasonceinsidefor
onlyafewminuteseach.Weareheretofryourselves,butyoucangetverysickif
youstayinsidetoolong.Besmartandcomeonoutwhentold.Staycloseandfollow
directions.
Myheartispounding.ThetoneofWillow’scautionaryadvicegotmyfullattention
andIfeellikeIamonhighalert,abouttogobehindenergylines.Iwanttodothis
right–andthat’snotjustmyGoodGirltalking.ItsoundsseriousandI’mnot
interestedingettingsickagain–orfryingmyselfsilly.
Wearewhiskedinsideandmakeourwaythroughaseriesofsmallchambers,
snakingourwaythroughthemultiplerooms.Mosthavewallsofstonethatare
crumbling.Somehavestunningpaintingsthatareonlypartiallyintact,butstill
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vibrantnonetheless.Wewalkdownasetofthesteepest,narroweststairsI’veever
attempted.Ihavetoturnmyfeetsidewaystomakeitdown.I’malreadylostfromall
thewindingweavingsoImakesuretokeepmyeyesonWillowwhoismyticket
backoutofhere.
Wearriveinanopenarea,thesizeofalargelivingroomthatissunkenintothe
ground.TheseniorEwoksarescatteredabout,eyesclosed,deepwithin.Someare
proppedupagainststonewalls,othersleaningagainsteachotherbacktoback.All
lookcompletelygonzo,doingagoodjoboffryingthemselvesfromwhatIcantell.I
don’tthinkit’smyimagination;someofthemaredrooling.
Willowleadsusquicklyuptoalowwallinfrontofastagethatiscoveredfromthe
suntoprotecttheancientpaintings.Shemotionsforustoleanupagainstthewall,
whichcomesuptoourarmpits.Ileaninandattempttofindacomfortableposition
inbetweenthemanyrocksthatjutoutofit,someroundandsmooth,othersrather
pokey.
Oh.Ifeelalittlewoozymyself.Whoa.TheenergyisstronghereandI’mgratefulto
havethewalltoleanagainst.Butmaybeit’sjusttheheatoftheMexicansun?My
mindseemstobedoinglazyloops.“No,it’stheenergia,”Ihearanothervoiceinmy
headsay.
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IcatchWillow’seyeasshenodstowardthepaintingsuponthestage.Happytohave
afocus,Idirectmyattentiontowardit.InstantlyI’mspellboundandcan’tlookaway.
Ihungrilytakeitin,asifI’mdyingofvisualthirst.IwouldswearthatI’veseenthem
before,eventhoughIhavenot.Althoughfaded,themuralsstillhavelifewithin
them.Itakeinthesoothingbutstronggreens,ochrereds,andgoldenyellows.I
don’tknowhowlongwe’llbeallowedtostaysoItrytotakeitallininonebiggulp.
Themainfigureisastylizedgoddess,armsspreadwide,withanimpressive
featheredheaddresswitheaglehead.Surroundingherareothersimilarfiguresboth
largeandsmall,alongwithintricatewovenpatternsaroundtheborders.Heropen
armsinvitemeinandIamstaringatthemuralasitmusthaveappearedthousands
ofyearsago.Notablemishinsight,colorsnew.
Myeyesflutterclosed,pulledshutasifheavyweightswereattachedtothem.Ina
momentofinstantknowing,Iamthegoddess.Partofmefacesthisworld,maskon,
thedivineinhumanform.Yetmyrealselfisfacingtheinfinite.Idissolveintoasea
ofblackness,theonlylightpinpricksofstairs.Foraminute,myarmsare
widespread,opentoall,fullofknowing,embracingthisworldandbeyond.
Miowalksupbehindme.“Whatdoyousee?”hewhispers.Istruggletoopenmy
eyes.“No,”Miosaysinsistently,slidinghishandovermyeyes,“Whatdoyousee?”
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ForamomentIstruggletoputwhatIamfeelingandseeingintowords.WhenIdo
managetotellMiomyvision,itfeelslikeIamhearingmyselfspeakfrommiles
away.Ihearmyselfendbysaying,“…andthat’swhyeventhoughwearelookingat
herface,wealsoseeherfingernails.”
Myeyespopopen.Ihadconsciouslytakeninthegoddess’hands,butnowIdosee
thattheywaytheyarefacingdoesn’tmatchthedirectionofherheadandbody.Yes,
sheiswearingamasktofacetheworldandhertrueselfisfacingthedivine.
IturntolookovermyshoulderatMiowhoisbeamingatme,“Verygood
sweetheart!”
HewalksawayasIfeelahugeswellofprideinmychest.Ifeelconnectedtothis
place.ButIdon’thavetimetowallowinpride,Willowisrushingustogo.Up
anothersetofstairs.Myeyeshavetoadjusttothedark.I’mpusheddowntositon
thefloor,thistimefacingastonethathasbeencarvedintowhatlookslikeathreesteppedpyramid.
Willowwhispersinmyear,“Theunderworld,themiddleworld,andtheupper
world.Go!”
Iwanttoaskformoreexplanation.I’veneverbeenhere.HowamIsupposedto
knowwhattodo?Whattheheckisa…Butonceagain,myeyesfeelimpossibly
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heavyandIslipslidedownintotheunderworld.Dark,shadowy,sub-conscious.I
moveintothemiddleworld,theworldofthehumans.Thenrisetotheupperworld,
wherethesupernatural,thegods,playagainsttheMilkyWayofconstellations.
BeforeIcanmakesenseofanyofit,handsarereachingbelowmyarmpitsandI’m
beingpulledtomyfeet.“Comeon!Don’tlinger.Thisway,”someonehissesbehind
me.Istumblebackintosunlight,backintodarkness,downsomestairs,upsome
stairs,throughsmallerchambers,makeau-turnandseemtoheadbackthesame
way.
Ifeellikewe’redoingTetitlaonsteroids,movingthroughitasfastaspossible.I’d
liketoblamemydisorientationanddizzinessonbeingrushedabout,butIsuspectit
hasasmuch,ifnotmore,todowiththeenergyinhere.“It’stheblacklight,”the
voicewhispers.IstillhavenocluewhatthisisbutIsurecanfeelit.
NowI’minvitedtositbeforeamuralofaneagle.Doneentirelyinochreredand
white,wingsspread,thebirdinfrontofmehasthemostpiercingeyesofanyanimal
I’veseen,paintedoralive.Ilookintoitseyesandamsuckedwithferociousforce
throughawindtunnel.Ishriekmyeaglecryandfeelmyselfhurtlingthroughthesky
hundredsoffeetabovethepyramids.Iliterallyhaveaneagle-eyeviewofMarzipan.
Icannotthinkinhumanterms,butmyeagleeyestakeinthesnake.Iridethewind,
streakingdowntheAvenueoftheDead.Thehumanswalkingthegroundaremere
ants.Irideathermal,bankandturnoverthePalaceoftheButterflies,circlebackto
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thePyramidoftheMoon,beforeextendingmyvastwingspanandgracefullylanding
ontop.Ishriekagain.Marzipanismine.Iturnmyheadmajesticallyleftandright
surveyingmykingdom.Raaaakkk!
YetonceagainIambeingpulledontomyhumanfeet,whichdonotseemtobe
connectedtomyhumanbody.Ileanagainstwhomeverispropellingmealong.I
hearWillowsayurgently,“Getheroutofhere!Now!”Myeyescannotfocuson
whereIamgoing.I’mgratefultomyguidewhoisexpertlynavigatingthetwistsand
turns.WesomehowmakeitoutsidethecomplexandI’mproppedupagainstatree.
AwaterbottleisthrustintomyhandsandIdrinkanddrinkanddrink.
IhearpeopletalkingaroundmebutInolongercanmakesenseofhumanwords.I
mighthavebeenalarmedifIwasn’tso,sosleepy.Idriftintoafuzzystate.Sothisis
whatitfeelsliketobefried…Asleep,butI’mstillawareofthemotionaroundme,
words,voices,thebreeze,itsomehow,somewhatregisters.Itfeelsdelightfultobe
soformless.I’mnotsurethatIwanttoreturn–orwouldevenknowhowtocome
backintomynormal,everydayconsciousness.
Ifinallydocometoandseealltheothernewbieslookinginthesamesorrystate
thatI’min.Weallseemtobecomingoutofadrunkenstate.Willowisgone,butone
oftheseniorstudentsappearstobeguardingus.“Whathappened?”oneofthe
newbiesasksandtheseniorstudentchuckles.“That,myfriends,iswhathappens
whenyoueattoomuchblacklight.”
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“Blacklight?”thefellownewbieasks.
“It’sthelightbehindthesun,thelightthatfuelstheuniverseandallmatter.”
Thenewbienods,butI’mnotsurethatexplanationclarifiesmuch.Wejustatetoo
muchblacklight?Weird.WhatIdoknowforsureisthatI’mfeelingitseffectsand
it’sgoingtobequitesometimeuntilIreturnfully,ifever,tothisworld.ItisFriday
andIdefinitelywasfried.
Hell
Whattheheck!Ican’tbelievemyears.Eventhoughitfeelslikewehavebeenat
Tetitlaforseverallifetimes,ourdayisjustgettingstarted.Mydreamsofheading
backtothehoteltotakeacool,refreshingdipinthepoolwithasaucydrinkinmy
handaredashedwhenourgroupleaderannouncesthatwearenowgoingoverto
themainpyramidcomplextostartourjourneythroughthesnake.Everycellinmy
beingmoans.Thisisnovacation.Wearenotdonebeingfriedyet.
Forexpediency’ssake,wewillhiketotheruinsinsilence,butwithoureyesopen.
Wedouble-timeitback.Thistimemyeyesarewideasweapproachtheentranceto
theancient,sacredcity.Thesoundsofdrumsandrattles,aconchshellhorn,greet
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myears.Thesoundissoprimitive,soancient,IcanhardlybelieveI’mstillin
twenty-firstcentury.
Theenormousparkinglot,withallitsmodern,motorizedvehicles,istemporarily
disconcerting.Evenmoreunnervingarethevoladores.Theflyers.Fourmen,dressed
intraditionalceremonialgarb:crispwhiteshirts,redpants,hats,andsashesare
perchedatopofa90’pole,drummingaway.Atthetop,afifthvoladoreisstanding.
No,dancing,andplayingtheflute.Theystopforadramaticmomentofsilence,then
thedrummingamplifiesastheyhuckthemselvesbackwards,fallingtotheground.I
cannotbelievemyeyes.Ittakesmybrainafewminutestoprocesstheropesthat
areconnectedtotheirfeetastheyspiralaroundthepoleinacomplexinterweaving.
Myheartandsoulsoarswiththem.Stunning,exhilarating,magical.Idonotknow
thattheyareperforminganancientritual.IonlyknowthatIwantthat.Iwanttofly.
Thevoladoresfeetmakeitbacktotheearthandthegroupisreleasedfromtheir
spell.Wewalkahundredmorefeet,pastthetickettakersandthroughthe
turnstiles.Ihavebeenthrownbackintothepresentday.Shops,shops,shops,and
moregaudyshops.Icannotbelievethatthisplacehasbeendesecratedby
commercialism.Therearesmalltiendasliningtheentrancewheretheysellevery
sortofcheaptrinketandcheesyt-shirt,plussodaandcandytoo.
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Butthepeoplelivingherehavetomakeabuckandthereareplentyoftouristswho
cometothepyramidstotakethe“NationalGeographic”tour.Theywanttohear
aboutthehistoryanddates.Theyarenothereforanyspiritualnonsense.
Afteraquickpit-stopatthebathroomsthatarelackingtoiletseatsandtoiletpaper,
were-emergeinthesunlight.Aswere-group,vendorscarryingwhistles,toydrums,
jewelry,blankets,andcarvedstonesapproachus.“AlmostFree!AlmostFree!”They
trytoenticeusaswewait.
It’stemptingtosmileattheirattemptsandtheirsilverwaresglintinthesun.Butwe
havebeenforewarnedthatifwesomuchasglanceintheirdirection,wewillbe
houndedthroughoutthecomplex.Evena“nothanks”orastronger“NO!”willbe
takenasasignofencouragement.Itfeelsawkwardtocompletelyignoreanother
humanwhoisthrustingobjectsinourfaces,butwearenotheretoshop,weare
heretogetspiritual.
Ourgroupsareherdedtowardthefirstplaza,ThePlazaofHell.Weascendasteep
setofstairs,crossashortplatform,anddescendtositonthestairsontheopposite
side.Borderedbyseriesofwidestairsoneachofitsfoursides,weareinasunken
plaza.Inthemiddleoftheseaofdirtisasmallplatform.Onthefarside,thestairs
risemuchhigherandpeopleareclimbingthemtothetop,sotheremustbe
somethingtolookatbeyondthestairs.
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Huh.Iamnotimpressed.Thisishell?Ifaceadry,weedy,yellowedgrassarea,the
sizeofseveralfootballfieldsstretchingoutbeforeme.It’snotpretty,butit’snotfire
andbrimstoneandhorrorseither.
DonDon,oneoftheseniorteachersfromNorthernCalifornia,stepsuptotheplate.
“ThisisthePlazaofHell.Youhaveenteredthemouthofthedouble-headedserpent.
Thisplazarepresentsyourmind.Hellexistshere,”donDonpointstohishead.“If
yourmindisfilledwithfear,youliveinaperpetualstateofhell,righthereonearth.”
Ifeelrelieved.Idon’tfeelmuchfear.MaybeIcanskipthisplazaandmoveontothe
goodstuff?FranklyI’mmoreinterestedintheenlightenment,thelove,thelightpart
ofthisjourney.
“Humansexperiencehellthroughthefear-basedemotionsofanger,sadness,
jealousy,greed,”donDoncontinueshislecture.
Crap.IguessIdon’tgetafreepassoutofthisone.
“Ifyouviewtheworldthroughtheeyesoffear,itdistortsyourview.HereinMarzi,
wehavethecouragetofaceourfears,seethemclearly,sothatwecanstarttoview
theworldthroughtheeyesoflove.Itdoesn’tworktopushourfearsasideor
pretendtheydon’texist.Wemustbewarriorswhofacethemsquarelyandseethem
forwhattheyare.”
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WhydoesitseemlikeEwokteacherscanreadminds?IwasjustthinkingthatifI
ignoredmyangertowardMexicanManormydisappointmentinmyselffor
abandoningmystudentsthateventuallythey’dgoawayandI’dbefine.Thatdoesn’t
seemtobethewayit’sdonearoundhere.
DonDonturnstowardtheplaza.“Wejudgeourfearsandthenwefeelvictimizedby
them.Ifwekeepjudgingandkeepbeingvictimized,thenwelockourselvesina
cycleofaddingfeartofear.”Pregnantpause.“Butifweembraceandacceptour
fears,ifweloveourfears,thentheycandissolve.Andthatiswhatweareheretodo
today.Faceourfearswithlove,honesty,andcourage.”
“YouwillwalkaroundthePlazaofHellandcollecttenobjectsthatrepresentyour
fearsandemotionalattachments.Whenyouhavefinished,youwillmeetmeinthe
middleontheIslandofSafety.”DonDonpointstothesmallplatforminthemiddle.
“Anyquestions?”
Noonemovesormakesapeep.AlthoughIamsuretherearehundredsofquestions
inthefear-filledmindsofmyfellownewbies,weseemtoinstinctivelyknowthat
thisisoneofthose“youdon’tneedtoknow”times.
“Good.Thisisanimportantpieceinyourprocess.Makeitcount.Donotwasteyour
timehere.”
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Istandup,hoistmybackpackon,anddustoffmybottom.I’mnotsurehowI’m
goingtofind10objectshereorwhattheywillmeanorhowtodothiswithenough
seriousnesstomakeitcount.Istarttowanderaimlesslythroughtheplaza,scuffing
myfeetlikeakidjustreleasedontoaplaygroundwhohasjustgottenintroublefor
noreason.
“Myfears.Myemotionalattachments.Myfears.Myemotionalattachments,”likea
mantra,mymindischantingtheinstructions.Itsoothesmyfearofnotdoingthis
activityright.
Hey!That’safear!I’mafraidthatwhateverI’mdoing,I’lldoitwrong.Anugly,
bumpyrockisinfrontofmyfeet.Ipickitupanddeposititintomypocket.Ifindita
littleabsurdthatI’mworriedaboutnotselectingrocksright.Ikeepwalking.
WhydoIcareifIgetthissillyexercisewrong?Well,donDonmightgetmadatme.
Thenhemightnotlikeme.Ahh,thefearofnotbeingloveable.Thishasbeen
mentionedinCarrot-top’sandQ-tip’sEwokclasses,butbeforethismoment,it
soundedlikeanintangibleconcept.Rightnow,righthere,itfeelsreal.Andhere’sa
red-ishkindaheartshapedrock.Perfectforfeelingnotloveable.
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Perfect.Isurehaveanattachmenttoperfection.TheGoodGirlhaspracticallykilled
mewiththatneed.IntheeyesoftheGoodGirl,I’mnevergoodenough.Aperfectly
smooth,perfectlyovalrockappearsbeforeme.
HowcantherebesomanydifferentkindsofrocksthateachrepresentjustwhatI’m
thinkinginthisPlaza?It’salittlefreaky.Butitseemstobeworking.3down,7togo.
Ikeepwalking.Atinyshredofacandywrapperhasasmileycartoongirldrawnon
it.MyGoodGirl.Ialmoststeponaanthillandstoptowatchastheworktogether,
strugglingtomoveastick.Yes,I’maddictedtostruggling,workinghard,beingin
constantmotion.Ipickupastick.WhydoIkeepmyselfsobusyallthetime?Whydo
Itakeonsomuch?SoIdon’thavetofeelIrealize.Ipluckaprettylittleyellow
flower,softanddelicate.
Notfeeling.Evenwithallthetearsoverthelastfewmonths,I’vestillbeenresisting
feelingtheheartacheinducedbyMexicanMan.Myheartseizesupinmychest.Why
didn’thetrulyloveme?Wasn’tIenoughforhim?IthoughtIwasdonewiththis,but
no.Itstillhurts.Andwhycouldn’tIgetittogetherforthekidsatschool.Ishould
havebeenableto.
Iamnot…Ishouldhave…Ican’t…
Thejudgeandthevictimarelockedintheirdance.It’snotpretty.
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Therealizationskeepcoming.Theobjectsmagicallyappear.Mypocketsbulgeand
growheavyfromalltherocksandotheritems.FinallyIhavetenitemsandmakemy
waytotheIslandofSafety.Nooneelseisthereyet,soIsitdowninthecenterand
pulltheobjectsoutonebyone,lookingoverwhatIhavediscovered.Iarrangethem
inanattractivecircleeventhoughwhattheyrepresentisnotpretty.
I’mnotloveable.I’mnotgoodenough.Idon’tlikemyself.I’mafraidtofeel.I’m
addictedtotryingtoohard.NoonelovesmeforwhoIam.Ican’tdoitright.Thelist
ofwhat’swrongwithmeseemsendless.AndIthoughtIdidn’thaveanyworktodo
here!
Mylackofawarenessaboutmyfearsandemotionalattachmentsbreaksthedam.I
didn’tevenknowthatIwassofear-filled.HowcouldIthinkIwasonmywayto
enlightenmentwhenI’mstillsuchamess?
Istartquietlysobbing,rockingmyselfbackandforth,ontopoftheIslandofSafety,
inthemiddleofthePlazaofHellinMarzipan,Mexico.Ihaveofficiallylostit.
MycryingjaglastsforsometimeandIenduplyingfacedownontheground.Itfeels
supremelygoodtojustletgo.Alloftheemotionfromthepastfewmonthsdrainout
ofmeintotheground.Ifeelspent,butclear.Thesunwarmsme.Thebreezecools
me.Maybethisiswhatitfeelsliketoembraceandacceptmyself?
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IhearcommotionaroundmesoIsitup.Willowissquattingdowninfrontofmeand
looksdeeplyintomyeyes.It’salookofcompassionandlove.Ilookdeepintoher
eyes,takingitin.Ican’thelpbutsmile.Notjustatherkindness,butalsoatmy
reflectioninhereyes.Atmyhair,whichismattedandstickingoutinalldirections,
andmyface,whichisstreakedwithtearsanddirt.It’ssopathetic,it’scute.
OurgroupgathersinacircleandI’mmomentarilyhorrifiedwhenIlearnthatweare
supposedtogoaroundinthecircleandspeakourfearsaloudtothegroup.DonDon
explainsthatourfearsgiveustheillusionofbeingsafe,hencetheIslandofSafety.
Weattachtoourmaterialpossessions,ourbodies,ouridentities.Weuseourfears
assurvivalstrategies.Wefearlettinggoofftheseattachments,yetitistheonlyway
totrulybefree.Andspeakingourfearsoutloud,infrontofneutralwitnesses,brings
themtothelightandlessenstheirpoweroverus.
I’mstillnotsurethatIwanttorevealmyselfinthiswaytoagroupofnearstrangers.
Buteveryoneelseisfindingthecouragetospeaktheirtruth.AndIcertainlydofeel
freersinceIletgoofalltheemotionsurroundingmyfears.Maybesayingmy
sillinessoutloudwillreallydothetrick.Aseachpersoninthegroupspeaks,there
aretearsandcomplimentsontheirawareness.
Myturncomes.Itakeadeepbreathandrealizethatspeakingisn’tashardasI
wouldhavethought.Mostoftheboundupenergyhasbeenreleased.Evenmy
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judgmentabouttheridiculousnessofthisceremonyhasfaded.“Whenwefirstsat
downhereinHell,Ithoughttomyself,‘There’snothingformetofindhere.Idon’t
liveinhell.’”Ipauseforamoment.“BoywasIwrong.”Thereisalotoflaughsand
head-nodding.Apparentlyothersfeltthiswayaswell.
“MostlyIdiscoveredthatIthoughtIwasn’tthatloveable.ButthenIdecidedtolove
thatpartofmyself.GuessIhadalittlelovefestinHell.”
I’mamazedathowmuchbetterIfeel.AndI’mrelievedtohearhoweachandevery
oneofusinthegrouphasthesamefearsandchallenges.MakesmefeellikeI’mnot
doingthisaloneandI’mnotentirelycrazy.
Wefinishupwithagrouphug.Isquelchmydesiretorun.Iguessnotallremnantsof
thePittsburghdreamhavebeenover-riddenyet.ButTricksterandAirMangrinat
methroughthetangleofarmsandIrelaxabitandsmile.
“Laststop!”donDonannounces.“Followme.”
There’smore?
Islaponsomemoresunscreenaswewalk.I’mgoingtobesportingaburntonight.
WillowgrabsAirMan’shandsandskip-dragshimwithher.Ilaughatherplayfulness
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andatthegoofywayAirManfollowsalong.Atleastallthisdeepcleansinghasan
elementoffunalongsideofit.
WelooparoundthebacksideofthetallstairsandI’mstunnedtofindanother
pyramidhidingbehindit.Therearehugecravedstonefacesofsomesortofa
featheredanimaljuttingoutfromit.Theyareeasilyseveralfeettall,wide,and
comingoffthewallinlogic-defyingcantilevers.Aretheylions?Theirmassand
detailsareimpressive.DonDonleadsusuptooneofthem.
“TheTempleofQuetzalcoatl,”heannounces.(Don’taskhowtopronounceit.Get
backtomeinafewyears.)“TheFeatheredSerpent.”
Oh.Theyaresnakes.Oneofthemanypotentrepresentationsoftheinfamous
snakes.Atleasttheyarenotalive.
Orarethey?
DonDoninvitesmetostepupandstickmyheadintothecarving’sopenmouth.I
lookdeepintoitsinkyblackholloweyesabitdoubtfully.Itsmouthisalsopitch
black.DonDongentlyhelpsmepositionmyfaceagainstitsmouth,whichcaneasily
swallowmewhole.
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Iclosemyeyesnotwantingtoseewhatlieswithinitscavernousmouth.Asmyface
nestlesintotheserpent’s,Ifeeltheserpentinhale.Startled,Istarttopullmyhead
away,butdonDon’shandonthebackofmyheadholdsmeinplace.Agentlecooling
windpullsanyresidualicky-nessintothepyramid.ThentheserpentexhalesandI
feelacertainty,acalm“it’sokay,it’sgoingtobealright”washoverme.My
shouldersdropafoot,givinguptheirlife-longpositionofbeingtenseduptomy
ears.
DonDoneasesmeawayfromQuetzalcoatl.Ibowmyheadingratitude.I’vebeen
friedbyblacklight,madeitthroughHell,andwelcomedintothemouthofaserpent.
Allinaday’sworkatMarzipan.
AngelofDeath
IblinkasIstepintothealreadybrightMexicansun.Ifeelratherquietandturned
inwardwhichisquiteacontrasttothehub-bubofvendorsthatsurroundmeinthe
pyramidcomplex.Thepast24hoursfeellikeanendlessstreamofactivityandit’s
startingtowearmedown.IsthisreallyonlyDay2?
TheEwoksareassemblingagaintofaceourfearsandgetdownwithGod,butthis
timeweturnleftalongtheAvenueoftheDeadandfacethePyramidoftheMoon,
whichappearstobemilesinthedistance.Thegoalistomakeittotheendofthe
Avenuetoday.
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IlooktotherighttowardthePlazaofHellandtheTempleofQuetzalcoatl.Itfeels
likeIwastherealifetimeago,insteadofyesterdaymorning.Afterplayingkissy-face
withQuetzalcoatl,weheadedbacktowardthehotel,thenveeredoffdownatinydirt
roadtoeatatCommadres.
Ewokstookoverthewholerestaurantaswegorgedondelicioushomemadetortilla
soup,crunchytotopeswithguacamole,andadelectablearrayoftraditionalMexican
food.Thisfamily-runrestauranthadbeencateringtoMio’sgroupsforyearssoitfelt
likewewereinthemidstofabigfamilyreunionasplateswerepassedoverour
headsandweinhaledthefoodtoquenchourgrowlingstomachs.Pinkwasn’t
kiddingwhensheencouragedustobringsnackstothepyramids.Ithadbeenalong
day.
Wehadashortbreakafterourlatelunch,whichbecameasplashfestinthepool.My
entirebodyshiveredwithpleasureatwashingoffthehotdustinessoftheday.The
guysandthegirlsthensquaredoffatoppositeendsofthepool–atwhichpointI
wiselyswamtothesideandchattedwithsomeofthemorecivilizedladiescontent
towatchKahuna,TricksterandAirManfaceoffagainstsomeofthemoreaggressive
Amazonwomeninourgroup.
TherestoftheEwoksdemonstratedtheirloveofaparticularlyruthlessformof
waterpolo.Anythinggoesandlet’sjustsaythathandsstrayinganywhereisthe
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mainstrategytogetyouropponenttolosetheirgripontheball.Thesemodern
EwoksdidourancientMayanballcourtplayingcousinsproud–thelosersweren’t
subjectedtodeathbutusuallydidhavenastyscratchestoprovetheirfuriousintent
toplayhardandwinatallcosts.
Veryenlightened.
Nextupwasclassinthesalonwherethedaywasrecappedandstudentswerecalled
upintothehotseatatthefrontoftheroomtosharetheirexperiences.Whilethe
restofusweretuckedunderbrightlypatternedMexicanblanketsmadeofrough
woolonthefloororupagainstbackjacks,Miobrilliantlypointedoutlapsesin
awarenessorwaystolookatourprocessfromaradicallydifferentpointofview.I
snuggledinandwasquitehappythatIescapednotice.
WhenMiohadenoughofourstories,hetookcontrolofthestageandcontinuedto
layouthisteachings.Tomorrow,hereassureduswithamerrytwinkleinhiseye,we
willgoandmeettheAngelofDeath.Andno,hewouldn’tbechanginghismindinthe
morning.
Um,excuseme?AngelofDeath?Ihadcometotermswiththeideaofwalkingupthe
AvenueoftheDead,butnowIwasgoingtomeetanangel?Onewhobroughtdeath?
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BynowIknewthatMiowasfondofmetaphors.Buthismetaphorshadpower.And
whilethesnakehehadspokenofyesterdaywasn’tareallivesnake,Iwashavinga
realexperienceofbeingdigestedbythesnakejustashesaidIwould.Andalthough
mymindcouldn’twrapmyheadaroundit,thestoneQuetzalcoatlintheTemplewas
alive.ItbreathedforChrist’ssake.
Inanotsoreassuringstatement,MiopointedoutthattheAngelofDeathisalways
withus.Notonlydoesshetakeourlovedonewhentheirearthwalkisover,butshe
takesobjects,oldrelationships,oldbeliefsfromusaswell.“Canyouimagineif
everyoneyoueverdatedwasstillinyourlife?”Mioaskedashelookedpointedly
aroundtheroom.“Orifeveryitemyou’veeverownedwasstillinyourhouse?”He
drewchucklesandthenwentinforthekill.“Likeallangels,theAngelofDeathisa
messenger.Sheisyourgreatestally.Ifyouarewillingtosurrenderwhatnolonger
servesyou,ifyouarewillingtodietoyouroldwayoflife,thenshewillclearthe
wayandmakeroomforanevenbetterdream.Whatareyouwillingtoletgoof
whenyoumeethertomorrow?”
Sincemysanityfeltlikeitwasalreadygone,Ididn’tknowwhatIhadlefttooffer
her.Didn’tIdoenoughlettinggotodaywithallmysticksandstones?Isighed
knowingtherewassomuchfortocome.Akindvoiceoffered,“You’vedoneenough
foroneday.Lettheangelworkhermagictomorrow.Tomorrowisanotherday.”
True,true.
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Ifollowedtheherd,whichhadbeenreleasedfromclasstocontemplateour
imminentdeaths,aswemovedtothehotel’srestaurant/barwheresomeofusate
andothersimbibedtequilaorbeer.Icouldn’tbelievethatanyonewasstillstanding
aftersuchafullday,butlotsofparticipantsmovedtheenergythroughwithdancing,
sillygames,lotsofchatterandofcourseflirting.Ewoksmightgetdownanddirtyin
theirprocessduringtheday,buttheystillknewhowtohavefunatnight.
Practicallydeadonmyfeet,IheadedbackuptomyroomonlytodiscoverthatIhad
sometummytroubles.WhileIwasn’toptingforalotofthespicyfare,everydish
hadabitmorekickthanmygringabellywasusedto.Montezumasmiledashetook
hisrevengeandIonceagainmadefriendswiththeporcelaingoddess.Thiswas
turningouttobearoughtrip.
Finally,finally,Icrawledintobed,onlytorepeatthepreviousnight’sinsomniawith
theexplosivefestivitiesfromthenexttown.IwastootiredtocaresoIlaidwithmy
eyesclosedinasemi-slumber,semi-awakestateforhours.JustwhenIfellasleep,
thechatteringofaflockofbirdsbeganatthecrackofdawn.Mexicanbirdsmust
havebetterpipesthantheirAmericanbrethrenbecausetheywerealmostasloudas
thenight’sfireworks.Isighed,decidedtoletgoofmybeliefthatIneededtosleep,
andgetuptofacetheday–andtheAngelofDeath-withoutgoingtoodeeplyinto
victimmode.
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Intensesun.Iblinkedagainjoltingmeoutofmyreverieofthepast24hoursand
intothepresentmoment.Marchingorderswerebeingissued.Weweretoconnect
ourwillstothetopofthePyramidoftheMoonattheendoftheAvenue.Thiswould
helpusmakeitthroughtheAvenueoftheDead.(Uh…Details?Alittleexplanation
here?Howexactlydoesoneattachtheirwilltothemoon?)Therewereaseriesof
plazasthatwe’dbegoingthrough,separatedbysteepsetsofstairsin.(Great,
spiritualStepMaster!Likemyemotions,we’dbegoingupanddowntentimes.)Stopat
thefirststairsineachplazaandwaitforthegroupandmoreinstructions.
Oh,andbeforewegettothefirstplaza,thePlazaofEarthwheretheAngelofDeath
resides,we’dhavetocrosstheRiverofDeath.Betweenhereandtheriver,wewere
totakeaninventoryofallofourcurrentbeliefsandbewillingtosurrenderthemall
beforewecrossedtheriver.Justaswecan’ttakeanypossessionswithuswhenwe
die,wecouldn’ttakeanybeliefswithuswhenwemettheAngelofDeath.
Gulp.Ineededtofigureoutallmybeliefsbetweenhereandthere?Althoughthefirst
stretchoftheAvenuewaslong,itwasn’tthatlengthy.
Makeeachstepcount.Go.
WhatdidIbelieve?
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Ibelievethatlifecanbehard.Thatbelievinglifeishardmakesithard.Iwantittobe
easy.Oratleasteasier.Astep.IbelievethatIcan’teventakeastepwithouthaving
atleasttwocontradictingthoughts.
Ibelievethatfallinginlovewithaliarsucks.Onefoot.Iwantittobehisfault.The
otherfoot.Hewastheonewhoputonagrandcharadeforme.Left.ButIwasthe
onewhoignoredmyintuitionandbelievedhim.Right.Sodidthatmakeme
trustworthy?CouldItrustmyintuitionbecauseitwasright?(WasIright?Washe
wrong?)OrdiditmakemestupidbecauseIdidn’t?Ididn’tknow.I’mafewsteps
furtherdowntheroad.
Andwhycouldn’twehaveaheart-to-hearttalkwherewebothtookresponsibility
forourrolesintherelationshipandseefromasoulpointofviewhowweimpacted
eachother’slives,articulatingclearlyjustwhathappened?Yeahright!
“Ha!”Mymindscreeched.“Areyoucrazy?”
“Yes,”Iquietlywhispertomyself.“IdothinkI’mgoingalittlewhack-a-doodle.”
IamwalkingdownadirtpathinthemiddleofanancientcitywhereI’msupposed
toknowmyselfasGodwhilehearingvoicesthatcontradicteachotherinmyhead.
IbelieveI’malittlebitcrazy.ButIthinkI’mokaywiththat.
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“Howcanyoubelievethat’sokay?”mymindcounters.
Idon’tknow.Ireallydon’tknow.ButforthefirsttimeinmylifeIfeellikeI’mbeing
real.I’mnotpretendingtoknowitallorbebetterthanthesoulnexttome.I’mnot
betterorworse.Idon’tunderstandwhat’shappeningtomebutsometimesIcatcha
glimmeranditpullsmeabitfartherdowntheroad.Itfeelsright.
“Youaregettingclosertotheriver,”mymindsneers.
“SHUTUP!!”I’mnowyellingatmyselfinsideofmyhead,throwinganinternal
tantrum.
Whydoyouhavetobesomean?Whydoyoualwayshavetojudgeme?Can’tyou
seeI’mtrying?I’mdoingmybesttofigurethisallout.Andit’sweirdnottoknow.
It’sfrighteningtoseewhatmyownmindbelieves,whatyouhavetosayaboutme.
It’sscarytohavesomanycontradictionsinonehead.
Ifeelmyfacegettingflushed.Pinpricksofangerrisetothesurfaceofmyskin.
“Sowhatdoyoureallybelieve?Whatdoyoureallywant?”thekinder,gentlervoice
pipesin.
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IbelievethatI’dliketohavesomeclear-cutdefinitiveanswers.Whycan’tImakeup
mymind?Whycan’tmymindjustshutup?
Iwanttobehappy.Allthetime.Don’tIdeservethat?
AndthenIlaugh.Inthatmomentthewholedreamunraveled.Isaw.Isawmymind
doingitscrazydance.Wantingtoknow.Wantinglifetobespelledoutinblackand
whiteandwrappedupallprettyinaredbow.Itdidn’twanttheanswertobeboth
orsometimes.
WhatIwantedwasimpossible.ItwaslikeaZenkōan.Thereisnorationalanswer.
Youcanonly“solve”itbysteppingoutsidetheconfinesofthemind.
Iwastiredoftryingsodamnhard.Ilovedtheideaofimpossible.Ifitwas
impossible,thenlittleMissPerfectioncouldn’tsinkherteethintomeanylonger.
Icouldsawf@*utotheNewAgebeliefthatanythingispossibleifyouputyour
mindtoit,addalittlefairydusthere.
No,mymindwasnevergoingtobequietforever.Itcouldbequietforafewminutes,
orafewhoursandthatwouldbebliss.Butnotforever.(AndquitefranklyIneedit
towork.)
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No,Iwasn’tgoingtobehappyeverymomentofeverydayuntilmylastdying
breath.
Impossiblegavemefreedom.ThefreedomtobehowIwasrightnow,messiness
andall.Itgavemegoodenough.Itgavemegentle.Itgavemesomesemblanceof
peace.
No,Icouldn’teverlisteverybeliefIhave.NowsurethatIwanttoorneedtoeither.
Andthat’sokay.
Icouldn’tunderstandexactlywhathappenedbetweenMexicanManandme.
Whetheritwasgoodorbad.I’llneverhavethecompleteresolutionthatIwas
longingfor.Andthatcouldbeokaytoo.
Ididn’tlovemyselfcompletely.ButIwasgettingcomfortablewiththefactthatI
didn’t.
Ididn’tfeellikeIcouldupholdother’speople’sexpectationsofmebeingtheüberachiever.Icouldn’tevenupholdmyownexpectations.ThankGod!
Icouldbegratefulforthehappymomentswithoutworryingthattheywouldpass.
Whee-hoo!Thiswasliberating.
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Istartjoggingdowntheroad,doingabitofajig,onmywaytomeettheAngelof
Death.
SuddenlyIwasawareoftheenergeticcordthattetheredmetothetopoftheMoon.
Apulsetraveledoutfrommybelly.Awaveofexcitement.AndtheMoonpingedit
rightbacktome,ahundredtimesstronger.Itstoppedmedeadinmytracks.
Ifeltthat.
Ifeltmyownacceptanceofmyself,justhowIwasinthismoment.
Wow.
ImarchedthelastfewstepsuptodonDonwhowasguardingtheentrancetothe
bridgethatcrossedtheRiverofDeath.(Andletmetellyouitreekedworsethan
anythinginthislife.)Ihadahugeridiculousgrinonmyface.
He,however,didnot.Helookeddeepinmyeyes,hisfaceamaskofseriousinquiry
andintent.
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Icalmeddown,settledbackintomybody.Iwasstillsmiling,butIwashereand
present,clearforthefirsttimeinages.Maybeever.Andmakingaconsciouseffort
nottobreaththroughmynose.
“Areyoureadytodie?”heasks.
Withallmyheart,Irespondgenuinely.“Yes.”
“Thensaygoodbyetoeveryoneyoulove.Saygoodbyetoeverythinginyourlife.
Forgiveeveryone.Prepareforyourfuneral.Sitandseeit.Whatwillyourfriendsand
familysayaboutyou?Digyourowngrave.Buryyourself.Gotothefirstplaza.The
AngelofDeathawaitsyou.”HenodsandturnssidewayssoIcanpass.
HowcomeeverytimeIfeellikeIhaveabreakthrough,there’smore?
ButbeforeIcanbecomedisgruntled,Ifeelasurgeofenergythatlightensmystep.
There’smore!Icanbedonewithmore.Thisisanopportunitynotapunishment.
Iclimbthenextsetofstairs,up,over,andbackdown.Afterorientingmyselftothe
plaza,whereotherEwoksseemtobealsopreparingthemselvestodie,Ifindaspot
toonesideandparkmybackagainstthestonewall.
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Iclosemyeyesandmymotherimmediatelyappearsbeforeme.I’vebeenpissedand
pissywithherlately.Iwanthertolovemeup,makemebetter.Iwanthertoleave
mealone.Whatanimpossiblesetup.“Mom,Iloveyou.Iknowthatyoudidyourbest
withme.IknowthatinsomanywayswearesimilarandIfoughthardtopush
myselfawaysoIcouldbemyownperson.Thankyouforbeingmymom.Iforgive
youforthetimesyou’vehurtmeandIaskthatyouforgivemeforthetimesI’vehurt
you.Ireallydidloveyou.Good-bye.”
Tearsarestreamingdownmyface.Iletthemflow.AndnoticeI’mtalkinginthepast
tenseasifI’mreallyabouttoendthislife.
“Bazer.OhBazer.Iloveyou.Maybeyouhaven’tbeenabletosaythosewordstome
asmuchasIwanted,butIknowthatyoulovedme.Thankyouforbeingthebest
fatherIcouldpossiblyaskfor.Good-bye.Iloveyou.”
Snotisflowingnowtoo.
“Tomybrother.Idon’tknowwhywefoughtsomuch.IguessIwasjealouswhen
youcamealong.Ididn’tlikethatyoucouldn’tdowhatIcouldorthatyouwere
allowedtodowhatIwaseventhoughyouwereyounger.I’msorry.Pleaseforgive
me.”
“MexicanMan.”
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Asobburstsoutofme.Myhearttightensinmychest.IfeellikeIamreallygoingto
die.
“Miquerido.Ilovedyou.Thankyouforwakingmeup.It’snotthewayIwouldhave
chosentobeawoken,butitdidthetrick.Thankyouforadoringmethewayyoudid.
Ireleaseyou.Youarefree.Iamfreefromyou.Iforgiveyou.Beonyourwaynow.
Good-byemylove.”
Irockmyselfandcryuntiltherearenomoretearstocry.Ithinkofeveryperson
whohasevermeantsomethingtomeinmylifeandtellthemthatIlovethemand
thankyou.Isaygoodbyetoallmypossessions.Tomybody.Oh!Whatabeautiful
bodyitis.HowcouldIhavenevernoticedthisbefore?Tomymind.Agreatmind.So
intelligentanduseful,sowillingtobeofservice.
Iseemyfuneralandhearallthebeautifulwordsspokenaboutme.I’msurprised
andtouchedmyallthelove.Somuchlove.HowcouldInotseeit?WhyhaveIbeen
wastingmytimeonsomuchdramaandpettiness?
Myeyesopen.Idustmyselfoffandwalkafewfeetawayfromthewall.Ipickupa
good-sizedrockandstartdiggingmygrave.I’mreadytosaygoodbyetomyoldself,
theonewhowassohardonme,theonewhobelievednothingwasevergood
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enough,theonewhowithheldloveoutoffear.GoodbyeGoodGirl.Goodbyesmall
self.
IfindapieceofobsidianthatI’vebeencarryingaroundinmyfannypackforthe
pastfewdays.IburyitinthesmallholeI’vedug,coveritwithdirtandpressmy
handsdownintotheearth.IpoureveryemotionI’vehad,allmyjudgments,allmy
limitations,myopinions,mybeliefsintothesoil.Itisanactofpower.
IopenmyeyesandI’mstaringintothesouloftheAngelofDeath.Myeyesflickerto
thesideforamoment.It’sLaDoña,Mio’snagualwoman,yes.Franklyshescaresthe
crapoutofme.Shepartgoddess,partAmazonandfullyinherpower.Butit’snotLa
Doña’seyesthatIamstaringinto.Thereisnoquestionthatanotherenergyhas
takenoverher.ThisistheAngelofDeath.
Ilosemyselfinhereyes.Theyappearblackandbottomless.Lifetimesflickerbefore
me.IfeeleverymomentwhenIhurtmyselfandmademyselfsmall,aswellasevery
momentwhereIlovedmyselffullyandbecamelargerthanwhoIbelievedIwas.I
feelallthelaughterandallthetearssurgethroughme.Iammesmerizedand
horrified.Itisbeautifulandbrutallyhonest.
Eternitiespass.TheAngelplacesherhandonmyheart.Hertouchisfullof
forgivenessandknowingandvoltageuponvoltageofenergy.Shetakesherother
handandpassesitovermyeyes.IfeelherblowintomyfaceandIambowledover.
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Miraculouslythereissomeonebehindmewhocatchesmeandlaysmetothe
ground.
Myeyesflutter.
Iamnolongeramongtheliving.
Myhatisplacedovermyface.
Idisappearintotheblackness.NolongerMeghan.Nolongerattachedtomy
personality.Ijustam.Floating.Free.
IambreathingandIamdead.
Andthat’showitgoesinMarzipan.Both,all,one,whynot?Theimpossiblemeets
thepossibleandofftheygocha-cha-cha,dancingamongthesun,themoon,andthe
stars.
TheBodyoftheSerpent
Ourdaywasn’tdoneyet–westillhadtomovethroughthebodyoftheserpent.
Therewereseveralplazasconquerandcountlessnumbersofstairstoascendand
descendbeforereachingtheMoon.ButTheAngelofDeathhadtakenthelifeoutof
usanditfeltasifweweresluggingthroughmud.Noonewasmovingquicklyor
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withintent.Maybepeopleinthegroupwerecomplainingthattheydidn’tfeelgood
andhadcoughstoproveit.Evenafewoftheteacherslookedratherragged.Still,we
soldieredoninourweary,half-bakedstates.Miohaddisappeared,ashewaswont
todo,leavingtheteachersincharge.Theyhadtheirmarchingorders.
Thenextthreeplazaswereabitofablur.WeswamthroughthePlazaofWater,
allowingouremotionstoflow,lettingtheimagined“water”(ofwhichnonewasin
evidence,theplazawasasdryanddustyasalltherest)washusoff.Emotionsthat
camefromhellcouldbereturnedtothegroundbelowustobepurified.Wewereto
moveoutofourmindandintoourbodyandemotions.NextupwasthePlazaofAir,
whereweinhaledandexhaleddeeply,cleansingandmergingwithoursoul.
Thegroupwastakingforevertore-assemble.Theteachersformedahuddle.The
PlazaofFirewasupnextandthiswasusuallyabigblow-outceremonywiththe
menandwomensplittingofftoeachside,thenreconnectinginthemiddle,fullof
forgivenessandhealing.
Reasonprevailed.Theteachersmadeanexecutivedecision.We’dtackleFire
manana.Herewereyouroptions.Anyonewhowantedtogobacktothehotelcould
gooffinonegroupandgorest.Thoseofusstilluprightwouldwalkthroughthe
PlazaofRecollection,createanethericdouble(huh?),walkintentfullydownthe
remainderoftheAvenueoftheDeadtothePyramidoftheMoon.Thenanyone
interestedinflyingofftheMooncoulddoso.Questions?No?Good.
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Uh,yes.Aboutathousandofthem.Butthegroupwassplittingup.EventhoughIhad
atickleinmythroatandadippoolsidesoundeddelightful,IfiguredIwasn’tin
MarzipaneverydaysoI’dgodothedoublything.Plusitsoundedfuntoflyoffthe
Moon.Howtheheckdidtheyachievethat?
Happily,oneoftheteacherspulledusasideandexplainedthedrill.Withoureyes
closed,weweretowalkthroughthePlazaofRecollectioninanactoftrust.Withour
intentandbreath,weweretoexpandourlightorethericbodiesasbigaspossible.
Bg.Far.Wide.Projectourselvesoutward,expand,keepgoing,untilwewere
connectedtoeverything,asfar,far,faraswecouldtraveltotheouterreachesofthe
universe.Createanethericdouble.Keeplettinggo.Keepexpanding.
AttheendoftheAvenuewasarock.We’dsacrificeourdoublesthere(thankfully
onlyinspirit).Oncewedid,we’dbeinapurestateofbeing,onewithourdivinity.
FullydigestedbyMr.Snakeandreadytoenteritssecondhead.
Okaaay.Istartedwalking.Breathing.Expanding.WasIusingmyimagination?Or
wasIreallygettingbigger?Iwasfeelingalittlelightheaded.Toomuchsun?Ormy
doublebeingbirthed?ShouldIopenmyeyesandpeek?WhatifIhitawall?Breathe.
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AslongasIstayedwithmybreath,Icouldfeelmyselfgrowbigger.EverytimeI
questionedwhatwashappeningorworriedaboutdoingitright(hey–IthoughtI
leftthatbehindafewplazasago?),Iwouldfeelmyselfcontract.
ThemoreIwalkedandbreathed,thebiggerIfeltuntilIfeltlikeIwastouchingthe
sky.Mylegsweregorgeouslylongandwell,leggy.IcouldeasilystepovertheSun.I
waswoozy,yes.Butdoingit.Ithink.
Afterwalkingslowly,slowly,Imadeitacrosstheplaza.Iwasdirectedtokeepmy
attentiononmyethericdoubleandwalktherestoftheAvenue.Remembertostop
andmergewiththebigrockattheend,rightinfrontofthePyramidoftheMoon.Off
meandmyethericselfwent.SinceIwasaGemini,didthatmake4ofme?Iwas
definitelygettingloopy.
Asdirected,Imadeittotherockandgratefulsankintoit,myarmswrappedaround
ittight.Ohsogrounding.Iofferedupmyethericdouble,anylingeringdoubtsor
fears.Meandmyangelselfaretightnow.One.
Anotherbigchunkofthegrouppeeledoffandwenttorecuperateatthehotel,while
asmallenthusiasticsplintergangofusheadedovertotheMoon.We’dclimbthreequartersofthewayupthepyramidandgatheratthefinalplatformbeforethe
ascenttothetop.Fromthisplatform,we’dbe“flownoff”thePyramidbythe
veteransamongus.
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AlthoughthePyramidisashighasa12storybuilding,Iwasconfidentthatwe’dget
uptothealmosttippytopandthenbetoldtodream/imaginethatwewereflying
downtheAvenue.Noproblem.Igotthis.
Fromthelevityinthegroup,thisdidnotstrikemeasbeingpartoftheofficial
program.Theenergyfeltlikeabunchofschoolkidsoutofschoolforthedayand
lookingforalark.PerhapsIshouldhavebeensuspiciouswhenweweretoldtokeep
alookoutforguards.Guardsgenerallydon’tdisturbpeoplewhoaresittingquietly
meditating.Theydo,however,frownuponsittingdownattheverylastbitofan
edgeonthewayuphighpartpyramid(thisisMexicosotherearenorailings)with
yourbackfacingtheemptyspacebehindyou.Theydon’tseemtolikeitiffourkind
andhopefullytrustworthysoulsholddownyourlegswhileyouflingyourself
backwards,resultinginyouhangingupsidedownoffthesideofapyramid,arms
flailing,breathknockedoutofyou,alongwithmaybealittlescream.No,don’tthink
theywouldlikethisatall.But,asluckwouldhaveit,therewerenoguardsinsightto
rescuemefrombeingflown.Infactitwasratherraretoeverseeaguardonthe
PyramidoftheMoon,eventhoughtheyarecrawlingalloverthePyramidoftheSun.
Thenagain,perhapsthat’swhytheEwoksliketobeflownfromthisparticularspot.
SoIwasunceremoniouslyloweredovertheedgewithmyeyesscrewedshut.To
chantsof“Abrelo!,”agroupofschoolchildrenhadjoinedinwatchingthecrazyloco
gringos,Iopenedthem.IamsureasquealwasemittedbutmostlyIlaughed–
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hysterically.MybraincouldnotmakesenseofwhatIwasseeing–essentiallythe
AvenueoftheDead,upsidedown,fromtheheightthattheeagleswouldfly.Iwasan
eagle,soaring,savoringthewindbeneathmywings.
Iwasflying.DowntheAvenueoftheDead,whichIhadbeenrecentlykilledoff,
buried,re-born,cleansed,anddoubled.Flyinghighfromadrenalin–orwhatever
kicksinwhenonehusksoneselfoffapyramid.Flyingfromreleasingfearanddoubt
andcrazy-mixedupemotions.Flying,justbecauseitfeltgoodtofly.
Iwashauledbackupontotheplatform.Elated.Crying.Shaking.Smiling.
Anddesperatelyinneedofsomefoodandashower.Onwobblylegs,Imademyway
backtothehotel,buoyedalongbythebearablelightnessofbeingandcamaraderie
inoursmallrag-taggroup.Plansweremadetomeetatthepool.Highfivesall
around.
Afteraquick,refreshingdip,Iheadedovertoonoftheinviting-lookinglounge
chairs.AirMansoonemergedfromthepoolandjoinedme.Wetalkedaboutourtrip
sofar,howdifferentitwasfrombeinginL.A.,howourfamilieswouldfreakifthey
couldseeusnow.Iwasintriguedbyhisgentleandthoughtfulnatureandbright
smile.
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Tricksterwalkedby,heandAirMandidoneofthoseguyhandshakesashepassed.
Heliftedhiseyebrowsplayfullyinmydirection.OncehewalkedawayIasked
AirMan,“Hey,doyouknowwherethatguyisfrom?”“Trickster?”AirManlooked
surprisedatthequestion.“Yeah.He’sfromL.A.Wewerebestfriendsinhighschool
andhavebeenhangingouteversince.”
“You’rekidding!”Ishriekabittooloudly.AirManlooksmorepuzzled.“He’sbeen
messingwithmethiswholetrip–pretendinghewasfromAustralia,England,
Ireland,younameit.”
“Yup,”AirMangrinsandnods.“ThatsoundslikeTrickster.”
IlookatTrickster’squicklyrecedingrear.Hisjenesaisquoiappealquicklyfading.
BeingfromL.A.madehimcute,butratheraverage.Anypossibleromancewasgone.
Atleastonemysteryofthepyramidssolved.
JustthenKahunalumberedontothepooldeck.“HeyMeg!”hecalledoutwithabig
smile,“Wannagoforadip?”
“Nah,I’mallset.I’mjusthangingoutwith…”butbeforeIcouldfinishmysentence,
hehadhoistedmeupoverhisshoulderasifIweighednothingandflungmeintothe
water.
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“Ahh!”Ishriekedashelaunchedhimselfin,cannonballstyle.Westartedaflirtatious
splashingbattle.Inthebackground,Ivaguelyregisteredafar-offhalf-smile,halffrownthatwasn’texactlyprojectinghappinessfromAirMan.Helookedlikeakid
whosetoygotstolenbythebiggerkidontheblock.
ButKahunawasdunkingmeandIwasdoingmybestnottodrowninbetween
laughing.That’swhenInoticedthatforthefirsttimeinmonths,myheartdidn’t
ache.Itfeltfree.Iwasn’tsureifIcouldcreditthedayatthepyramidsorifallthe
maleattentionwasgivingmyegoaboost.ButIreallydidn’tgiveadamn,mydears,
I’dtakeitanyformitcamein.
Score!Withthehelpofafewotherbikini-cladbabes,wemanagedtodunkKahuna
under.Lifewasgood.
ThePlagueof‘99
Thatnightthecoughingbeganinearnest.Anditspreadandspreadandspreaduntil
thewholetribehasaragingcaseofcloggedlungsandrunnynoses.Lovely.Iwasnot
feelingsogood.TherollercoasterrideofMarziwasheadingdown.Sigh.Up.Down.
Up.Down.Mazi’slikeajumprope.IwassusceptibletobronchitisandIreally,really
didn’twanttodealwiththisnemesisinMexico.Iseemedtohaverunthegamutof
Marzipan-inducedsystemmeltdowns–energysickness,altitudesickness,
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Montezuma’srevenge.Andnow,accordingtothewordinthecorridors,I–along
withalltheotherEwoks-hadabadcaseofentities.
Farfrombeinganordinarycough/cold,wehadbeeninfectedbyentities,whichyou
couldnotseebutcouldcertainlybefelt.Beinganaccountant’sdaughter,myfirst
thoughtwasoflegalentities.Acorporation,forexample.But,no.Theseentities
werethenon-corporalkind.Akintoghosts,goblins,orspirits.Someformof
malevolentbeingthatsomehowMioandtheEwokspissedoffandwasnow
extractingitsrevengeonourbodiesintheformofillness.Spooky.Buthey,ifIlived
hundredsofyearsago,entitiessoundprettysimilartogerms.Onlyitwasaboutto
betheturnofthecenturyandtheseentitieswerestillhangingaroundwrecking
havoconourimmunesystems.
Thecure?Eggcleanings.Weneededeggsandlotsofthem.Afterahilarious
conversationwiththekitchenstafffullofpantomimesandscratchednoggins,an
enormousplateofscrambledeggsappeared.No,no,no.Weneedeggs–whole,not
broken.Atraywithhard-boiledeggsappeared.FinallysomeonewithenougheggrelatedSpanishvocabularyconveyedthepropercure,weneedraweggs.Dozens
anddozensplease.Everyraweggwithinmileswasdraftedintoservice,muchtothe
hotelstaff’samusementandbafflement.
Carrot-topandQ-tipwereputinchargeoftheeggcleanings.Handeddownfrom
MadreEve,Mio’smother,whowasacuranderaorhealer,eggcleaningsinvolved
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usinganun-crackedraweggtopullillnessoutofthepatient’sbodywhilechantinga
specialprayer.Afterablessingandsettingofintent,thehealer/eggcleanerwould
rubtheeggvigorouslyovertheperson’sentirebody,usingtheirintuitiontoguide
themtothepartsofthebodythatmostneededcleansing.Frontandback,crown,
face,eyes,throat,heart,stomach,pelvis,armsandlegsallreceivedagoodrubdown.
Theauracouldbeclearedaswell.Oldenergiesoremotionsbegone.Pastwounds
noproblem.
MadreEvetaughtmoreadvanceddevoteeshowtothendoeggreadingsbycracking
theeggintoaglassofwaterandstudyingtheresults.Sincetheeggwassaidto
representthehumanbody,correlationscouldbedrawnbetweenthetwo.Youcould
tellhowsickorclearapersonwasbasedonwhethertheyolksankorswam,how
cloudythewaterbecame,whethertherewerealotoftentacle-likestrands,ifthere
werespotsontheegg.
Iwasalittledubiousthataneggcouldhealme.Andwhatifitcrackedwhilegetting
thescrubdown?Ew.ButwhenCarrot-topandQ-tipappearedatmydoorbearinga
cartonofeggs,Ididn’tturnthemdown.Anythingtohelpandfeelbetter.
AsCarrot-topmadethesignofthecrossonmyforeheadandbeganrubbingtheegg
aroundmyhead,Iinstantlyfeltsoothed.Herwhisperedchanthungoverme,
transportingmetoanothertimewhenthiswasthemostmodernandeffectiveform
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ofmedicine.Theegg’scoolnessfeltdeliciousagainstmywarmskin.Ilovedwhen
Carrot-toppausedandletitrestbrieflyoneacheye.
Irelaxedmoreandmoreastheeggtravelledaroundmybody,especiallywhenshe
focusedonmychest.Mybreathinggrewdeeper,whichwasamazingduetothegunk
thatwasinvadingmylungsandnose.Ididfeellighter,cleanerandclearer.
Carrot-topblessedmyfeetandsatquietlybymysidewithherhandonmyheartfor
afewminutes.Apleasantwaveofenergywashedoverme.Igroggilyopenedmy
eyeswhenIfeltherweightmoveoffthebed.Noeggreadingforme.Thereweretoo
manycleaningstomoveonto.“You’regoingtolive,”Carrot-topsaidwithasmileas
sheplacedherhandontopofmyforehead.“Getsomesleepnow.”
Idriftedoff,feelingbetter.
Butalas,whiletheeggcleaningsmayhavelessenedtheseverityofourtribe’s
illness,itdidn’tkillitoff.
YearslaterIlearnedthatsomeoftheseniorteacherswenttoseeMiotodiscussthe
severityoftheentities.Howelsecouldtheyfendofftheseevilentities?Whatother
defensesdidheknowof?Howcouldtheyappeasethegods?Whiletherehadbeen
occasionalillnessesonpasttrips,anentiregrouphadnevergonedownforthe
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countthisway.Thetripalreadyhaditsownspecialdistinction.Itwasdubbedthe
Plagueof’99.
Mio,whowasamedicaldoctorbytraining,lookedaroundtheroom.“Sweethearts,”
hedecreed,“Thisisnocaseoftheentities.Thesepeoplearesickandtheyneed
Cipro.Youmusthaveenoughawarenesstoseewhatis.Don’tblameentitieswhen
peoplehereneedantibiotics.”Hemayhavebeenthegrand-poo-baofaratherwoowootribe,butwhenpushcametoshovehecouldbesupremelypractical.
YesDoc,alovelyandhelpfulfemaledoctoronthetripwhowasalsoagroupleader,
wasgiventhemissiontosecureenoughCiprofromtheentirehotel.Luckilyin
Mexico,youdonotneedadoctortofillaprescription.Sowhileitmayhavetaken
severalofthelocalfarmaciastofilledourmassscrip,allweneededwasenough
pesosandataxi.
ThenextmorningasIthrewmyheadbacktoswallowmydoledoutpills,I
shudderedslightlyatwhatWappywouldthink.TechnicallyIhadn’tseenadoctor
forthisprescription.Well,atleastIwastakingdrugsandnotrelyingonchicken
eggs.Iraisedmyglassinsalud.WheninMarzipan,dowhattheEwoksdo.
ThePlaceWhereGoodGirlBecomesGoddess
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Ewoksarespiritualwarriors,butthenextdaywewereinnoshapetotacklethe
pyramids.ThePlaguehasthemajorityofthegroupdownforthecount.Mio,a
masterimproviser,isnotonetomissanopportunityhowever.ClubMedwasbuilt
upontheoutlyingareasurroundingthemaincomplexandhasruinsinitssideyard.
We’dperformtheplannedceremony–withmodificationsfitforthemoment,
“changingasfastasGod”asMiolovedtosay,withinstepsofthehotel’sfrontdoor.I
don’tfeelcompletelylousy,butnotgreateithersoIamgratefulforwhatIimagine
willbealessspiritedday.Ha.
DonDonandLaDoñagatherthenewbiesthathavecrawledoutofbedinfrontof
thehotel,whiletheteacherswhoaren’tcoughingupalungheadovertotheruins.
Wewalkthroughthehotel’sgarden,ascrubbydesertwithsomeextraflowers
thrownin,toastone-linedroomaboutonestorydeepthat’ssunkenintotheground
andopentothesky.
Allthefemaleteachersaresittingononesidewiththeirbacksrestingonthewalls,
withthemaleteachersontheoppositeside.Theyaredeepindreaming.Theenergy
ispracticallyvisiblewithinthepit.Aslightshimmerywave.Dustcatchesraysof
sunlightthatfloatintheair.Adeepstillnessandsenseofsacrednessquickly
pervadesthegroupeventhoughwearejustbarelyscreenedfromthehotel’s
parkinglot.Ewokscancreatemagicanywhere.
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Wesettleinatthetopedgeoftheruins.Itistimeforustoreconcileour
feminine/masculinenatures.First,wearetostalkourrelationshipwithourown
gender–tolookatourlineageaswomenormen.Thenwearetostalkourpast
experienceswiththeoppositegender.
Stalk?Asinstalkers?
I’vehadsomepersistentsuitorsbutcertainlynostalkers.Anddefinitelynofemale
ones.IimagineMexicanManchasingmedownthestreet,knifeinhand.ThankGod
itdidn’tgothatfar!
Beforemyimaginationgetsthebetterofme,donDonexplainsthemythologyof
stalking.Pictureajaguarinthejungle.Sleek,confident,focusedonpursuingitsprey.
Withnojudgments,noopinions,justlaser-likeintent.Wecanusetheenergyofthe
jaguartostalkourpast,totrackdownoldwoundsandhurts.Wesee.Wefollowthe
trailofpainfulmemoriesandemotionsnottore-livethem,buttowitnessthem
clearly,healthem,andletthemgo.Whenwedo,theenergystoredwithinthepastis
freedtobeusedtocreateinthedirectionofournewdream.
DonDon’simageryissoaliveandrealthatIcanalreadyfeelmyselfasjaguar.My
eyesflutterclosedandIamwalkingdowngossamertrailsofenergytowardmy
past.Ittakesallmyjaguarattentiontofollowthesepaths.Istandbeforemymother,
myjaguareyespeeringintohers.Iwatchaswesilentlycommunicate.Iseeallher
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hopesanddreamsforme,allthehurtsanddisappointmentsandloveandtriumphs
anddramathatoccurbetweenmotheranddaughter.Itakeanotherstepthrough
thewindowinhereyesandnowIamseeingherpast,herchildhood.Shelooksupat
hermother,mygrandmother,andbitsofherlifearerevealedtoo.Icomefroma
longlineageofstrong,willful,stubborn,loving,andoftenunforgivingwomen.
Thetrailcontinuesbackintotime.Inolongeramwitnessingmyownfamily’s
personalhistory,butthestoryofwomenthroughouttime.Iseewomenbeing
abusedverbally,physically,sexually.Womentriumphing,accomplishing,
overcoming.Thegamesweplaywitheachotherandwithmen.Thefiercelovewe
haveforourfamiliesandourbeloveds.Alloftimeunfolds.Thebeautiful.Thebrutal.
Thepleasure.Thepain.
YesIcry,butIamalsoupliftedandinspired.Iunderstand.Isoften.Iforgive.Ilove.
ThetrackshiftsandnowIamwatchingmydreamwithmenunfold.Withmylovers,
myfather,hisfather,mybrother.Withallthemenwhotookadvantageofmeandall
themenwhoItookadvantageofthem.Iseetheenergicdynamicbetweenus.Me
hurt,wounded.Allmyhimshurt,wounded.Searchingforloveintheotherandnot
findingthelovethatwewantfromandforourselves.Playingoutdynamicsthat
existedwithinourrelationshipswithourparents.Playingoutenergiesthatwere
createdgenerationsbeforeus.
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Itwasstunning.
Again,Icry.Forallthehurtlittleboysandlittlegirls.Formyselfandmybeloved.My
seeingalsobringscompassion.Allmyrelationshipshavebeenpartofabigger
dramathathasexistedforeons.
Thedreamshiftsagain.Withclearblackeyes,Iwatchmypersonalityriseupand
congealenergetically.IseeallthestrategiesIputinplacetokeepmesafe.An
innocentpurebeing,droppedintoahumanbodyinahumanworld.Figuringout
howtonavigatewhatIfeltandwantedandneededwithwhatwasavailableand
happeningaroundme.TheGoodGirlwavesatme.TheRebel.ThePrincess.The
Heroine.TheJudge.TheVictim.Theyareallthere.Allarchetypes.Inodmystately
jaguarheadandbowtothem.Theserolesservedmewell,butInolongerneedthem
toprotectme.
Thejaguar’spiercingeyesturntolookatme.Yes?Iwasbeinggiventheprofound
choice.DoIcontinuetoactoutoffearandhurtanddisappointment?OrdoIchoose
tolove,startingwithmyself?
Someonegrabsmyhandandleadsmedownthestairsintothewaitingarmsof
Cloud.IsitwithmybacknestledintohersoftfoldsandIdisappearintoherlove.She
wrapsherarmsaroundmeandholdsmetight.Iamsurprisedthatthereisnotan
ounceofresistanceinme.Shelovesmeupanddown,sendingmamalovetoallthe
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partsofmethathavefeltunlovedorunwantedforsolong.Thedeepdownplaces
thatIdon’twantanyonetosee.Herpurelovefillsmeuptothebrim.Iamswimming
inforgivingandlettinggoandjustbeingwithallthedebristhat’sbeenstirredupin
thejaguar’sseeing.
Ifeelallthepleasure,allthepainuntilthere’snodifferencebetweenthetwo.It’sas
ifonehalfofmybathtubhadbeenfilledwithscaldinghotwaterandtheother
freezingcold.Intime,itsjustwater,nothotorcold.AndIwasluxuriatinginthe
feeling.
JustthenCloudwhispersinmyear,“Youfeelsomuch.Youfeeleverything,don’t
you?”
Everythingsuspends.
Alltheairissuckedoutofme.
Mymindisreeling.Mybodyfloating.Myemotionflowing.Myperceptionexpanding.
Mysoulonewithall.
Yes.
Yes.
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Forthefirsttimeinmylife,anotherbeinghasseenmeandrecognizedmeformore
thanmysuperhemi-chargedbrainpackagedinanattractivebodywithasuperbly
drivenwill.
Yes,Ifeel.Iperceiveitall.
Iamshocked.Iamperceivingeverythingaroundme.Iamattunedtoeveryperson’s
emotionwithinthispit.Icanperceivethewaytheflowersabsorbthesun.The
rocks.Sosolidandheavy.Witnessingtime.Myhumanlifeablip.Iamthemovement
ofthewind.Iamhereperceivingfrommyhomebase,mybody,andyetthere’sno
separationfromallthat’saroundme.
Moretears.OfreliefandjoyandsadnessthatittooksolongtoseewhoIreallyam.
Notadaughteroragirlfriendorateacherorthesmartonewhowillachieveso
much.Ijustam.Afeeling,perceivingbeing.Alifeforcetravelingthroughthishuman
body.Somethingthatcannotbeputintowords.Iamhuman.Iamdivine.Iam
reborn.
Iamagoddess,worthyofbeinglovedandworshipped.Withoutasmidgeonof
superiority,Iembodymygoddessself.Fully,amply.Iamlove.Ilove.Iamloved.
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Yes,Ichooselove.
IturntofaceCloudandgiveheranenormoushugofgratitude.Shebeamsand
receivesandgives.Ourlovebouncesbackandforthbetweenus.
There’ssomemovementbehindmeandshenodsinthedirectionofamanstriding
tothecenteroftheruins.He’sfinishedwithhisprocesswithhismalemirroronthe
oppositewall.Heholdshishandouttome.Withouthesitation,notevenasmall
flinch,Iwalkovertohimandgiveandreceiveahugebearhug.Ifeelcleanandclear
andIfeelhisclarityaswell.Thereisnoneed,nosexualtensionbetweenus.Just
masculineandfemininecomingtogetherinloveandrespectandcompassion.To
eachsideofus,thereareothercouplesembracingaswell.
Thecouplesscootchcloser,laughing,andwebecomeanamoeba.Goodcleanlovin’.
Thegigglesdiedownandan“ooooommmmmm”startsfromthecenterofthegroup
hug.ThevibrationactivatesmychestandforthefirsttimeIdon’tfeelridiculous
om’ingwithacrowd.Wesendtheprimordialsoundoftheuniverseout,in,up,
down.
Bliss.
Marzipan.
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ThePlaceWhereManBecomesGod.ThePlaceWheretheGoodGirlBecomes
Goddess.ThePlaceWhereLittleOl’MeBecometheIAm.
One
Istand,humbled,triumphant,andoutofbreath,ontopofthePyramidoftheSun.
Windwhipsthroughmyhair.Thesuncombatsthewindandofferswarmth.Behind
mearebothtouristswiththeircollectivelowmurmurofchatter,andmyfellow
Ewoks,whohavebegunsilentlystakingoutthecenterofthetopofthepyramid.In
frontofme,theremainingEwokstragglersarepickingtheirwayupthe250orso
stairs.Noneedtohitthegymanytimesoon.
Fromthisvantagepoint,theentirepyramidcomplexislaidoutbeforeme.
Throughouttheweekhere,Ihavebeendisoriented.Notjustfrommyunfamiliarity
withthelayoutofthecityandfromthemanysidetripsoffoftheAvenueoftheDead
intothenumerouscatacombsandhideyspots,butalsoduetotheintenseenergy
andmyfocusonmyprocess.Andwhataprocessithasbeen.Now,however,it
becomesclear.Myheadhaspokedabovetheclouds.
IlooktotheleftandmyeyestraceourroutefromthemainentranceintothePlaza
ofHell.Wasthatreallyonlyafewdaysago?DidIreallyliveinthatmuchhell?The
differenceinhowIfeelinsideisatleastasbigasthedistancebetweenwalking,
shoesgluedtoshufflingalongthegroundinthesunkenplazacalledHelltonow
sittingfeather-light,likeaneagleontopoftheSun.
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IfollowourrouteuptheAvenueoftheDead,pastthestinkyriver,throughEarth,
Water,Air,Fire,Recollection.PastthePyramidoftheSun,whereInowsit,ontothe
PyramidoftheMoon.Yes,ithasbeenajourneyofawareness,transformation,and
intent.Insightsanda-has,emotionsandinexplicableoutofbodyyetsomehowstill
presenthere,now,withinexperiences.
IlookpasttheMoonandintothesecondheadoftheserpent,wherewespentour
morning.A-ha,frommyeagle’seyeview,Inowcanseethereferencetothetwo
heads.AtoneendHell;attheotherHeaven,alsoknownasthePalaceofthe
Butterflies.
Iturnandlookovermyshouldertocheckonthegroup.TherearestillEwoks
assembling,ourfinalceremonyhasyettobegin.Itakeamuchneededfewminutes
toclosemyeyes,letmyheadstopspinning,andcatchupwithmyself.Onemorning
inMarzipancanfeellikeseverallifetimes,especiallywhenyouglimpseyourself
livinglifetimesago.
Ratherthanresting,myclosedeyesandinwardfocustransportmebacktoHeaven.
TheEwoksaresittingaroundtheperimeterofthePalacealongthelowstepsthat
ringthecenter.Farfrombeingapitinthegroundringedbystonewalls,thePalace
isrelativelyintactwithintricatelycarvedstonecolumnsaroundtheperimeteranda
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porticothatshelterspaintingsandcarvingsalongtheinsideoftheexteriorwalls.
Theinteriorcourtyardisopentothesun.(Theoneinthesky,notthepyramid.)
Theplaceispackedwithenergy.Itpermeatestheplacelikealowhum,astrong
undercurrentthatyoucandiveintothemomentyouenterthespace.WeEwokssit,
soakingupthesunandthehighvibration,still,silent.AtfirstIamannoyedatthe
touristswhoenterthissacredspacechatteringaway,theirtourguidesspeakingin
tooloudvoices,givinginsignificantdetailsaboutdatesandepochsandartistic
styles.Can’ttheyseewhatishappeninghere?Can’ttheyfeelit?
Quitesimply,no.HadIcomehereaweekagoorwithanyothertourgroup,Iwould
likelybeequallyoblivious.Nowtheenergyactslikeamagnet.Ithadmyfull
attentionandIamratherpowerlesstodoanythingotherthanswirlaboutwithit.
Thetouristsandtheirnonsensefadeintothebackground.Theycomeandgountil
miraculouslytheyhavealldisappearedandwehavethePalacetoourselves.We
havesomehowcreatedsomesortof“KEEPOUT”forcefieldthatprotectsthePalace
forafewminutesofpeace.
Delicioussilence.Swimminginariveroflove.Warmth.Peace.
Thensomemovementnearby.IopenmyeyesandseethattheEwoksaregathering
aroundasmallholeinthegroundinthecenterofthecourtyard.Theonesclosestto
theholearestaringatitratherintently,butwhenIlook,itlookslikeasmallhole,a
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fewinchesindiameter,cutoutofthestonesthatlinetheground.Andyetmostof
theEwoksareswayingbackandforth,asuresignthatthere’salotofenergynearby.
Imoveclosertoseewhat’sthebigdeal.
Theholeisjustaholeandyetit’snot.SomeonemovesasideandIamnudgedcloser.
AssoonasIamstandingpracticallyontopofit,Ifeelatugonmywomb.Tingling.I
dropmyawarenessdownandfeelastrongconnectiontotheground.Then
suddenlyIcanseealltheotherholesinthepyramidcomplex,onesthatI’vewalked
pastthroughouttheweekvaguelynotingbutmostlyignoring.NowIseethebig
deal.Theseholesareconnectedandenergy–andenergeticmessages–canbesent
alongtheundergroundnetwork.Andenergeticplumbingsystemandefficientway
todistributeenergyasneededorcheckinwithvibrationsthroughoutthecomplex.
IpopthroughtheholeandlandatthePlaceoftheMasters.Istandpositionedin
frontofaropedoffentrancetoasmall,darkenedroom.Thisroomthrobs.The
energyissodensethatIcannotseethebackwall.Alltheavatarsaresaidtoreside
here.Here,perceiveBuddha.There,Christ.Moses.Perceive.Embodied.Imbibed.
Imbued.Infused.
Aquickglance,noguards,weduckinside.Imagesflashbeforeme.Meandnotme
bathingthefeetofMiowhoisnotMiointhisveryroomamillenniumofmoonsago.
MeandnotmelivingamongthePlaceoftheWomen,inharmony,incommunity
withmywiseeldercronesandthesucculentfertilemamasandtheyoung
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untouchedmaidens.Meandnotmeinothertimes,powerplaces,sacredhotspots,
playing,living,loving.Apriestess.Agoddess.Ashaman.Ahealer.Facesblur.
Swirlingvisions,glimpses,tastes,sensations.
Afewturns,downacorridor,aroundthecorner,lowerceiling,thenhigh,andI’m
nowinfrontofthePortal.Oneofthefewplacesinthecomplexthathasaceiling,the
energyhasbeenwellcontained.Thewallsarespeciallylittohighlightthestunning
paintingsonthewalls.It’samuseumofenergy.Iwaitmyturntostanddirectlyin
frontofthePortal,adoorwayframedbyheavystonespreciselyfittedtogether.
Inside?Nowords.Nothingness.DivineEnergy.Communication.Presence.Saturated
Space.BlackLight.AVoidfilledwithstarlight.Aportaltootherdimensions.Drinkit
in.Filleverycellofyourbeing.Beone.
Andpop!I’mbackontopofthePyramidoftheSun,ashiftintheenergy,ashiftin
thewindandIampulledtojointhegroupinthemiddle,nextceremonyaboutto
begin.
Inthecenter,twooftheEwokteachers,amanandwoman,sitbacktoback,knees
up,feetontheground.Twomorenestleupbacksagainstthem,formingastarinthe
middle.Inbetweeneachofperson’skneesareEwokuponEwok,formingahuman
chainofbackreststhatspreadoutlikethetentaclesonastarfish.Afewofthe
teachersaredirectingtheshow,coordinatingwhogoeswhere.Mioisofftotheside.
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Isitandsquirmabouttofindaplaceofcomfortontherockyground,amongelbows
andkneesandheads.Finally,weallsettle.Thepyramidbreathesasighofrelief.
Andohtheenergy.Avortexstartsdeepbelowusinthecavernsunderground.It
rises,circlingthebase,emanatingfromthecore,up,up,up.Gatheringmomentum
andpowerasitgreetsusatthetop,pouringoutoftheholeattheverycenter.The
energyrumblesthroughourgroupcausinggaspsandsighsandsmallcriesof
surpriseandpleasure.Mounting,building,racingfromhearttoheart,wombto
womb,willtowill,itleapsupintotheskyaboveus.Sparkspopandspitasithurtles
throughtheair,spiralingup,up,uptothesun.Asthesunreceivesthemessagethat
therearehumansonearth,open-hearted,incommunion,itintensifiesitsrays,
beamingbacktouslight,light,heat,wisdom,morelight.Canwetakemore?Yes.Yes.
Eachofusreachesupenergetically,reachesupwithonearmandgrabsourpersonal
rayoflight.TheonethatbearsourDNA,ourenergeticimprint,ourownunique
expressionoflifeforce.Itsearsthroughourhand,tricklesdownourarms,alights
ourminds,unlocksourthroats,floodsourhearts,fillsourwombsandwills,flows
throughourlegsandfeet,backdownintothepyramidandintotheawaitingMama
Earth.
Adirectconnection.Acommunion.Thechannelisopen.
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MMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmm
mMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
One.Sun.Self.Merged.Done.Divine.
Re-Entry
Myheadbumpsupagainstthecharterbus’windowaswepullontothemainroad
thatwilltakeusawayfromthemagicofMazipananddepositusbackinthe“real
world.”GlimpsesofthepyramidsflashpastusandIgivealittlewigglewithmy
fingers.Good-bye.Ihopetoseeyouagain.Ican’tbelievehowdifferentIfeelthan
whenIarrived.IwouldswearthatI’manewperson.I’msadtobeleavingbutalso
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excitedtogohomeandintegrateeverythingthatI’verememberedintomynew
dream.AndI’mtired.Whew.Whataweekandwhatanight.
Carrot-topandQ-tiparefinishingtheirre-entrylectureoverthebus’PAsystem.
We’vejustexperiencedadreamfilledwithlove,onecreatedbyancientEwoksand
re-invigoratedbyMioandsupportedbyallofus.Thedreamoftheplanetthatexists
outsidethesafetyofthecocoonwe’vejustbeeninfromthelastfivedaysisonethat
hasloveinit,mostcertainly,butisprimarilyonefilledwithfear.Itcanbeshocking
tore-engagewiththisdream.Begentlewithourselves.Don’texpectthatourlives
willinstantlychangebecauseofthisonetrip.Goslow.Takegoodcareofour
humans.Don’ttrytohugthesecurityofficersattheairportorthemailmanathome.
Butmakenomistakeaboutit.Takealookaround.Thistriphasmadeadeepimpact
oneachofus.Wewillcarrythishomeintoourlivesthere.Eachonofushas
transformedtothepointthatweliterallylookphysicallydifferent.Carrot-topjokes
thattheyshouldhavetakenbeforeandafterpictures.Ilookaroundandseethatthis
istrue.ThepeoplewhoImetonthefirstnightarenotthesamepeoplethatarenow
onthebus.They’veundergonesomuchtransformationthattheyglow.Weeach
sportaninnerbeautyradiatingout.Icatchaglimpseofmyselfinthewindow.Will
Teachandmynon-EwokfriendsbackinL.A.noticethedifference?
Q-tip’sfinalwordofadviceistohaveaNationalGeographicversionofthetripready
toshare.Wearenotonamissiontoconvertanyone.Itisnotourjobtotryto
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convinceother’stotransformtheirlives.Somepeoplemightbetrulyinterestedin
whathappenedinMarzipan,butformost,hearingabouttheculturalaspectof
visitingancientMexicowillbeenough.IsmiletomyselfthinkingofmypastoverenthusiasminsharingtheEwokpath.Idecidetobewiserinkeepingmymouth
shut.
Carrot-topencouragesustostayintouchwithourteachersandourgroups.
Decidingtolivefromadifferentpointofviewisabigundertakingandithelpsto
havesupport.Ilookdownattheroselyinginmylap.IknowoneEwokthatIplanon
beingintouchwith.Lastnightafteraraucouspartyinthebarfilledwithlaughter,
joking,dancing,andmuchflirting,Kahunaappearedatthedoorofmyroombearing
asingleexquisiterose.“Ihopetoseeyouagainbella,”hesaid.Thenheswooped
down,depositedasoftkissonmylipsanddisappeareddownthehallwithawink.
HepromisedtogivemeacallwhenherolledthroughL.A.
ManyoftheotheryoungerEwoksandIalsoexchangednumbers.Iwasamazedhow
manyofusonthetriplivedinL.A.TricksterandAirManbothmentionedallofus
gettingtogethertohangormaybewe’devenattemptsomesortofceremony.I
laughedwhenimagininginvitingthemtoWatts,butwascertainlyupfortheideaof
havingagangtohangoutwithsimilarinterests.
Thebuspickedupspeedonthehighway.WhatdidIwanttotakeawaywithme?To
bemuchgentlerwithmyself.Nottohavesuchhighexpectations.TheGoodGirl
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couldstayburiedatMarzi.I’dliketostartdoingwhatmademetrulyhappy–not
whatIthoughtothersmightwantmetodo.AndIwasreallyreadytomoveonfrom
MexicanManandfromthefiascoinmyclassroom.Ineededtofigureoutwhatwas
next.HopefullythetimespentinMarziwouldhelpmeinbeingclearerinmy
decisions.
IfeltconfidentthatIwasundernoillusionabouthowdifficultmyintentionswould
be.Afterourlastclasstogether,whereMioremindedusthatlifewaslikeplayinga
game.Wecouldhavefunplayingit.Pickourselvesupwhenwegotknockeddown
andlaughitoff,tryagain.Wemakeuptherulestohowweplayinlife.Wecouldsee
lifeasanopportunity,fullofpossibility,orwecouldseeitasunfairandhard.Keep
youreyeontheball.Wherewouldweputourattention?Wouldwetakethegame
seriously?Getmad?Getcompetitive?Havenofun?Itwasourchoice.
ThenMioinvitedustoagameoftouchfootballoutonthehotel’slawn.TheEwoks
whowerestillstandingdividedintoteams,withPinkasthequarterbackofone.
Hooray!Let’splay.Agroupofusdecidedtobethecheerleaders.Finally!Myhigh
schooldreamcometrue.YesDocgotreallyintoitandinsistedweputonmake-up.
Ohno!Iprotested!Idon’twearmake-up.Comeon!Thisisabouthavingfun.I
laughedatmyselfandacquiesced.Right!Havefun!TherecuperatingEwokslaidout
inlawnchairs,wrappedupinblankets,onthesidelinesgivingtheairofplayingata
convalescenthome.
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Thegamebeganandafterafewminutesoffun,itturnedserious.Hey!Miowasn’t
playingfair!He’scheating!He’schangingtherulesofthegame!Thecheerleaders
gotattachedtocheeringforonesideortheother,dividingourteamspiritintwo.
Miocalledatime-out.“Hey!Whatareyoudoing?DidyoucompletelyforgetwhatI
justsaid?YOUmaketherules.YOUhavefun.Ifyouaren’thavingfun,thenchange!”
Hegotus!AndIgottoseejusthowquicklywerevertbackintooldpatternswithout
thinking.ItwoulddefinitelybeagoodchallengetokeepmyMarziframeofmind
backinthegoodol’USofA.
Weunloadfromthebusandtherearetearsandhugsallaround.IgivePinkanextra
longhugandsqueeze.Ijustadoreherandwishedwelivedinthesamecity.
KnucklestoAirManandTrickster.NoKahunainsight.Bigbearhugsandthank
you’stoalltheteachers.Andthenwescatterinthewind.
AsIwalkthroughtheairport,Ihavethedistinctsenseofbeinginmyownworld,a
littlebubblesurroundingme.IfeelasifI’mexperiencingtheworldforthefirsttime.
Itrynottostareatallthechaosandbusy-nessandunhappinessaroundme.Minidramasplayingoutbeforemyeyes.It’sasifahugeplateofglassisbetweenmeand
therestoflifeswirlingaroundme.IhopeI’mnotattractingtoomuchattentionto
myselfasIbeamlightoutintothecrowds–inconspicuouslyIpray.
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Inablinkofaneye,I’mbackinL.A.,backinWatts.Theneighborhoodlookseven
dirtier,greyerandmoretrashedthanusual.It’sprobablymethat’schanged…oram
Ijustseeingmoreclearlynow?
ForafewdaystheresidueofMarzipancoatsandprotectsme,butthenIcrash.
TeachandIseemtobeondifferentwavelengths.He’smoreintriguedbyheady
quantumphysicsandworkingtochangethecommunity.I’mintoconnectingtomy
heartanddoingwhat’sbestforme.InolongerthinkIcanbethechangeinthe
worldthatIwanttoseewithoutworkingonmyselffirst.Istartdreamingofaway
outofthehood.SomanyspotsremindmeofmystudentsorMexicanMan.IfIreally
wantthistobeinmypast,itfeelslikeit’stimetomoveon.OnlyhowwillImakethat
happen?
Andthat’snotallthat’sbringingmedown.I’mbummedIhaven’theardfrom
Kahuna.It’shardertogettogetherwithotherEwoksthanIthoughtsinceI’mina
partofthecitywherenotmanypeopleareonaspiritualpath–outsideofBapist
churches.I’mgettingtiredofsubstituting.There’snotmuchconnectionwiththe
kidsasI’minandoutoftheirclassroominaday,whichalsomeansthatit’sharder
toengagethemandmaintaindiscipline.WhenwillIhearfromgradschools?The
highIfeltinMarzipanisquicklyslippingaway.
WhatamIdoingwithmyself?
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IthoughtIcompletelytransformedinMarzi?Shouldn’teverythingbeeasierand
different?Howquicklyweforget…
Isinklower.
ThenMexicanMancalls.Querida.Mipreciosa.Tanlinda.Porfavorllamame.He
wantsmetocall.Myheartisdivided.Iwanttocallandhearthateverythinghas
changed.AndyetI’mnotquitethatstupid.Whydoeshehavetocallnowafterall
thesemonths?RightwhenIfeltlikeIwashealed?Iresistcallinghimbackbutit
takesallmymight.
Hetriesagain,thistimeluringthere-paymentofmoneyinfrontofme.Heneedsto
seeme.It’sbeenbotheringhimthatheneverrepaidmeandthatweended
everythingsobadly.Porfavor.Please.Call.
Rrrrarrrgh!ShouldI?Doeshereallyhavethemoneyoristhisaschemetogetmeto
callhim?
Finally,Ido.Icall.Ican’tresist.$1,500istoomuchtoignoreatthispoint.Andsome
smallpartofmewantstoseehimtoseeifIreallyamoverhimornot.
MexicanManconvincesmetocometoCrazyLady’scondowhereheisapparently
stillliving.Hestillcan’tdrive.Porfavor.Hehasthecash.Imustbecrazy,butIagree.
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MexicanManopensthedoorallsmiles,contrite.Hetriestokissme,butIduckand
weave.I’vesteeledmyheart.GivemethemoneyandI’llgo.
“No,miamor.Let’stalk.Howareyou?”
Hiseyesarehurtandremorseful.Quitefranklyhelookslikeshit.He’sgainedalotof
weightoverthepastfewmonthsandtherearedarkringsunderhiseyes.Ican’t
believeIwassoinlovewithhimjustafewmonthsago.
“Givemethemoney.”
“Really,mireina?It’scometothis?”
“Yes.AndI’mnottureinaanymore.”I’monthevergeoftears.Itbreaksmyheartto
besocold,butIcannotlethimbackin.Inolongertrusthim.ButIdotrustmyself.I
needtogo.“Ifyoudon’thavethemoney,I’mleaving.”
Iseeaflashofangerinhiseyes.“No,No.Idohaveit.What?Youdon’tbelieveme?”
Hismachoprideisstillaliveandwell.Ileavehisquestionunansweredandhesees
thathehasnocredibilityleftinmyeyes.“Fine,I’llgogetit.”
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Hedisappearsintoabackbedroom,leavingmetolookattheemptywalls.The
picturesofhiswifeandchildreninMexicohavebeentakendown.Phantomdirt
linesoutlinewheretheframesusedtohang.PerhapsCrazyLadylaiddownherfoot.
Hereturnsandhandsmearumpledwadofbills.“Thereyougo.ItoldyouIhadthe
money.”
I’mnotsureifhe’stryingtosayhehadthismoneyorhehasmoney.He’stryingto
saveface.Lordknowswherehereallygotitfrom.“Thankyou,”Ireplyandturnto
go.
“Aren’tyougoingtocountit?”heasks.
“Nope,”Isay.I’mamazedIgotanyofitbackandIcan’twaittogetoutofhere.
“Iguessyoutrustmealittlebit,”MexicanMansayswithacoysmile.
“Adios,”Isay.“Ihope…”Itrailoff.IwanttosaythatIhopehehasagoodlife.AndI
trulydo,butIdon’tknowhowtosaythisenespanolwithoutitcomingoffharshly.I
settlefor“Vayacondios.”GowithGod,mayhewatchoveryou.
IfeelhimwatchingmewalkbacktomycarandImanagetodosowithmyheadup.I
getbackinthecarandmanagetodriveoutofthecondocomplexbeforebursting
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intotears.IhavetopulloveronthesideoftheroadbecauseIcan’tseeclearly.How
amIbacktothisyuckyspace?
Iamsosadthatit’scometothis.Iamsohappytobefree.Ican’tbelieveIgotmy
moneyback.Ican’tbelieveIwassomixedupinhiscrazyworld.
Crazyworld.RightnowIfeellikemyworldiscrazytoo.Whatisawhitegirldoingin
thehood?WhyisawhitegirlfromPittsburghstudyingwithashaman?WhoamI?
HaveItotallylostit?
IthoughtthatthisEwokstuffwouldmakemefeelbetter,wouldtransformmylife
intoloveandlight.ButhereIstillam.Brokendownandcryinginabrokendown
neighborhood.
Ineedtogetaway.Fromitall.Notsomuchtorunaway,althoughmaybeIamdoing
abitofthat,buttogetfarenoughawaythatIcangetsomeperspectiveonwheremy
lifeisheading.Idon’twanttobearoundTeachandhisdogoodideas.Ormyparents
andtheirdreamsofmygrandiose,successfulfuture.OranyEwoksandtheir
fantasticalfar-outwaysofdreamingabetterlife.Justme,myselfandI.
Aseedofanideaembedsitselfintomyhead.WhataboutgoingtoAustralia?Ihad
alwayswantedtovisitthelanddownunder.Seearealkangaroo!Holdakoalabear.
Backpackandhike.BazerhasclientsinAustraliasoeventhoughIwouldbefarfrom
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home,Iwouldhaveanacquaintanceortwotocallon.Ihadscrimpedandsaved
fromthelastfewyearsofteachingwiththedreamoftravellingtheworld.Whynot
now?Nothingisholdingmehere.
Ontheconside,shouldIbeusingupmymeagersavingswhenIamessentially
unemployed?Wasitsafeforasinglewomantotravelalonesofarfromhome?Could
Idoit?
Idrymytearsandheadhome.Idon’tknow.Idon’tknow.
Buttheideasticks.Itbecomesalittlemosquitoconstantlybuzzinginmyear.After
hoursandhoursofcontemplating,Idecidetodiveintotheworldofyouthhostels
forseveralmonthstravellingaroundAustralia,andwhileI’matit,NewZealand.
Irationalizemydecisiontothehilt.BythetimeIgetbackI’llhaveheardfromgrad
schools.Thistripisn’tjustaboutremovingmyselffrommycurrentsituation,it’s
aboutapproachinghowIlivefromawholenewpointofview.Testingtoseeifthe
Ewokswoo-woohasanymerit.Howwoulditfeeltoreallyfollowmyheart?Idon’t
know.
Iambothexhilaratedandfreakedoutattheaudacityofmyplan.Anouterquestof
funandadventuretomirrormyinnerquestforwhoIreallyam.Forwhatfeelslike
thefirsttimeinmylife,I’mdoingsomethingthatIwanttodo,thatisnotattachedto
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a5-yearplanoralong-termgoal.Iamtreatingmyselftogoandjusthavefun,todo
whatIwant,whenIwant.Tomeander,explore,discover,changemymindonthe
spurofthemoment.
ImapoutabasicitinerarythatstartsinSydney,goesuptheEastCoasttotheGreat
BarrierReef,hopsovertoDarwin,thentoMelbourneandfinallytoboththenorth
andsouthislandsofNewZealand.Ibookplaneticketsandnotmuchmore.
ThenIstartcountingdownthedaystilblastoff.I’mohsoreadytogetmyselfout
fromdownunder.
TheQuesttotheLandofOz
AmonthlaterIam(literally)ontheothersideoftheworld.Backpackingthrough
AustraliaandNewZealandtookmeoutofmypettyproblemsinamessedup‘hood
andintoamuchbiggerworld.AndnowhereIam,neartheendofmygrand
adventure,(literally)abouttojumpoffabridge.Mymindisfreakingout,“Whatare
youdoinghere?Areyousureyouwanttodothis?Youcouldkillyourself!”
Farfrombeingasuicideattempt,Ihavesignedupto“gainalltouchofrealityand
senseofresponsibilitytowardlifeinthrowingyourselfoffabridgeabovearampant
ragingriverattachedtonothingmorethanagreatrubberband”asthepromotional
literaturereads.SoIfindmyselfpeeringovertheedgeoftheSkippersCanyon
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BridgeinQueenstown,NewZealand,abouttobungy-jumptowardthesaidraging
riverthatwindsthroughabreath-takinggorgethatisafar,far229feetbelow.Asin
a10-storybuildingbelow.Mywholebodyisshakingastheadventureguidestraps
meintoaharnessandbindsmyfeettogether.Iamgrinningear-to-eareitherin
nervousnessorexcitement-orjustwithsheerstupidity.
ExtremesportsarenotnormallyonthelistofactivitiesIdo,butsinceImetMioand
theEwoksandjumpedintoaspiritualjourneytowardlesssuffering,more
happiness,I’mgoingallouttogetoutofmycomfortzone.Forthepastthree
months,I’vebeentacklingonefearafteranotherandopeningmyselfuptonew
experiences–bothphysicalandspiritual.AsI’mgettingreadytojump,mylife
doesn’tflashbeforemyeyesbutthelastfewadventurousmonthsdoandallthe
changesthatI’vemade.
Agustofwindblows,Iholdontightbutmythoughtsdriftonthechillyblastbackto
thebeginningofmytravelsonthe12+hourplanridetoSydney.Ifallintoadeep
sleepandhaveadream.Aneggisfloatinginblackspace.Inside,themostintense
andbeautifulyellowlightbeginstoshinethroughthecracksuntiltheeggexplodes
andthere’sanucleusofswirlinglightthatradiatesoutintothedarkness.Thedream
feelsprophetic.
WhenIawake,Idomybesttodrawtheimageinthefrontofmyjournalandcapture
whatmyquestisabout.ThenIwritewhatsoundslikebadcopyforapersonal
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growthworkshop:totransform“utterdespairandpain,”confrontmyfearand
overcomeit,takecareofmyself,beopenandgratefulforallopportunitiesand
experiences.IthankGodforgivingmestrength.IurgemyselftoFEELtheenergy
andthelight.Allcheesy,butfromtheheart.
Assoonasmyfeethittheground,Iamoffandrunning.Igotoaconcertofmystic
SufimusiciansattheSydneyOperaHouse.Iseeapalmandtarotreaderwho
vaguelytellsmewhatIwanttohear.IvisitMahariji’sCenter.Idraw.Itrysurfing.I
seemany,manykangaroosandyes,Iholdacuddlyandamazinglyheavykoala.I
hike.Ihangoutwithotherbackpackers.Imakemyveryowndidgeridoo,a5’tall
AboriginalwindinstrumentthatIthenhaulwithmefromtherestofmytrek.I
sleep.Iread.Ihangoutincafes.Ijournal.Andthink–alot.IaddUluru(alsoknown
asAyersRock),asacredAboriginalsite,ahugesandstoneformation,oneof
Australia’smostwell-knownnaturalfeatures,andwateringholeinthedeadmiddle
ofnowhereinthedeadmiddleofthecountrytomyitineraryandamrewardedwith
ararerainfallthatisjustspectacular–eventheguidehadneverseenitrainthere.I
indulgemyeverywhimandloveit.
Nearthemiddleofthetrip,I’mreadyandintheperfectplaceontheplanetto
confrontmychildhoodfearoftheocean.Aftertwominortraumaticexperiences–
oneinvolvingjellyfishthatIwasconvincedwaschasingmebacktoshoreandthe
othersteppingonapieceofglasswhichresultedinstitchesandcrutchesforthe
entirevacation–IhyperventilateanytimeIamindeep,lessthancrystalclearwater.
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Ihadgonesnorkelingonceonacruisewithaboyfriendincollegeandmanagedto
stayinthewaterforafewminuteswithalotofhand-holding.ButnowIwasflying
soloandreallywantedtoscubadive,whichfeltlikeatestofhowfarIhadcome
frommychildhoodthroughthepastroughyeartofloweringintoaworldtraveler.
(IncrediblythesnorkelingboyfriendfromyearsagoofferedtoflyovertoAustralia
andgoscubadivingwithmebutIwasdeterminedtodothisformyselfandsave
himthetroubleofflyinghalfwayaroundtheworld.)Andhey–whynotthrowinthe
factthatAustraliaisknownforit’sdeadlyjellyfishandsharkswhilewe’reatit?
IbookaboatouttotheGreatBarrierReef,andwithalotofdeepbreathinganda
peptalktomyself,Igoforit.Thewaterisroughandchoppybutassoonasweslip
underthesurfaceIamamazedathowpeacefulitis.I’mfloatingthroughthewater,
surroundedbystunningcoralandcolorfulfish.AtfirstIamtentativetoholdanyof
theseacreaturesthatourguideispassingaroundbutIkeepremindingmyselfthat
inthismoment,everythingisfine.Inthismoment,nothingishappening.Bytheend
ofourdive,Iamdoingflipsthroughthewater.Whee-whoo!Ican’tbelieveIwasso
scaredtotrythislife-alteringexperience.IamputtingMio’steachingsinactionbit
bybit.
Backontheboat,Iambeyondmyself.Ican’twaittocelebrate.Ididit!!Iambursting
withpride.
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ThatnightIcallhomeanddiscoverthatI’vegottenintoallthegradschoolsthatI’ve
appliedto,includingsomefancyIvyLeagueones.StrangelyIammuchmoreexcited
aboutthedivethanthefactthatI’vegottenintothetopschoolsinthenation.Iam
moreexhilaratedatovercomingafearthantheideaofstudyingmorebooks,even
thoughIlovearchitectureandwouldlovetheeasinessofhavingapatanswerabout
whatIwasdoingcomefall.
Fortheremainderofthetrip,Iwriteproandconlistsaboutgoingtogradschool
versusnotgoing.Imakelistsabouttheprosandconsofeachschool.Igetannoyed
atWappyandBazer’slowkeyresponsetomyacceptances,wantingthemtomakea
bigdealoutofmyaccomplishment,eventhoughI’mnotconvincedthatIwanttogo
togradschoolandamtryingsohardnottolookfortheirapprovalanymore.Ispend
manyhourswondering–agonizing-ifperhapsIneedtoembarkonastudyoflife
insteadofcontinuingonthetraditionalroutefilledwithbookknowledgeand
diplomas.CouldIreallygiveupmychildhooddreamofbecomingalicensed
architect?CouldIreallypursethepathofstudyingwithashaman?
EventuallyIdecidetotablethequestionandjustallowmyselftohavefun,beinthe
moment,enjoythehereandnow.IdivebackintothetripandheadtowardNew
Zealand.Iclimbglaciers,kayakfjiords,flyinhelicopters,ridetrainsthrough
majesticmountains.IgotoaMaoriVillage.IseeRiverdance.Idoeverysingle
activitythatcatchesmyfancyuntilmymoneystartstorunout.
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Withthejourneynearingitsend,Ifindmyselfstandingattheedgeofthebridge.I
geisha-stepitoutontoatinyplatformpreparingmyselftobungyjump.The
companyhasitdowntoascience.Thehelpfulhandtogetyouontotheplatformthat
leadsyoutothepoleyouclingtowithonehand.Therequesttowavetothecamera
soyou’llletgo.Thecommandtojustjumponthecountdown5-4-3-2-1.
Ihurlmyselfoffthebridgeintospace.Mymindshort-circuitsasitcannotcompute
whyIamtryingtokillmyself,free-fallingthroughspace.IamsostunnedthatI
forgettoscreamuntiltheropecatchesmeandyanksmeupbackuptowardthe
clouds.AndthenIamscreamingandlaughingwithadrenalineandexhilarationand
atthesheerjoyofbeingalive.IlovewatchingtheworldbouncebyasIdangle
upsidedown.
Inthatmoment,Iamfree.
Ihaveatangiblefeelingoffreedomineverycellofmybody.It’sanexperience,and
itwasn’tfoundinabook.Inthatmoment,Icommit.Iwanttolearnhowtofly,how
tobethemostmagnificentversionofmyselfthat’snotbasedonbeingaGoodGirlor
pleasinganyoneotherthanmyself.Iwanttobethegoddess,theShamanGirlthatI
discoveredinMarzipaninmyeverydaylife.IwanttobeunencumberedwithhowI
thinkmylifeshouldbeandinsteadturnitovertoaforcebiggerthanmyself.Idon’t
wanttoorneedtolearnanythingmorefromabook.Idon’twanttostudyata
university;Iwanttostudywiththeuniverse.Idecidetoenrollintheschooloflife
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andseewhatMiohastoteachme,wheretheuniversedecidestotakeme.WhenI
returntoLA,I’mnotjustgoingtodabbleinaclasshereorthere.Orevengoona
life-alteringtripandbrushitasideuponreturninghome.Iintendtopursuea
practicalandspirituallifewitheveryfiberofmybeing.Nomoremessingaround.
TherefrainsofthetwosongsIpickedupatchurchinLAsurgethroughmyhead:
Useme,ohGod,Istandforyou.AndhereI’llabideasyoushowmeallthatImustdo.
Commandmyhands,whatmusttheydo.Commandmylife,it’shereforyou.Godneeds
ustoshineitsLightasme,asyou.
Andajauntyonewithanupbeattempo.
IreleaseandIletgo.IlettheSpiritrunmylife.Andmyheartisopenwide.YesI’monly
hereforGod.Nomorestruggle,nomorestrife.WithmyfaithIseethelight.Iamfree
intheSpirit.Yes,I’monlyhereforGod.
I’montheothersideoftheplanet,ontopoftheworld,hangingupsidedown.Lifeis
goodandsounexpectedwhenyoutakealeapoffaith.Infindingashamanand
followingmyheart,IfoundGod,life,lightinthemostunlikelyofplaces–insideof
me.AndIwantmore.Muchmore.AndI’mdeterminedtosearchhighandlowuntilI
figureouthowtolivethelifeofmydreamsfilledwithauthenticity,abundance,and
heedlessamountsofhappinessandjoy.IamonapathtobecomingShamanGirl.
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BurnBabyBurn
Thewindiswhippingthroughmyhair,windowsarerolleddown,andtheradio
blasting.It’slateAugustandI’montheroadwithapackoffellowEwoksfromLA-
Trickster,AirMan,Crackle,andLini-headingnorthtotheRingofFireatWalker
CreekRanch.Ifeelarushofexhilaration–andalittlenervousness.TheRingofFire
isthefirstoneofMio’s“big”gatheringallthecommunityeventsthatI’mattending.
It’sbilledasacelebrationoflife,aweekendofloveandtransformation.Sounds
prettycool–andalittleweirdtome.Apparently,I’llberemindedthatI’manartist
andmylifeisaworkofart.Icantransformmystoryatanytimeandpaintmy
personalworkofartanywayIwant.It’smylife!Dammit.
Astheopenroadunfoldbeforeus,myminddriftsbackoverthepastfewmonths.
SinceIreturnedfromAustraliaandNewZealand,Ihavedefinitelymadesome
serioustransformationsinmylife.Idecideditwastimetogetoutoftheinner-city–
atleastoutoflivingintheinner-citysoIsaygoodbyetoTeachandTaylor.Imove
outtohousesitforSeagullforabit,beforebecomingahousematewithCrystal,then
eventuallyontoasupercute(andsupertiny)casita(okayapartmentthatfeelslikea
casita)ofmyown.It’sarelieftobeinglivingnearthebeachagain,inasafer
neighborhoodwithmoreamenitiesandlessremindersofgangs,drugs,orviolence.
WhileIfeelsomewhatguiltythatIhavetheoptiontoleavetheareawhensomany
folksdon’t,Ialsoseethatnooneisbenefitingbymebeingamartyr.Mio’steachings
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aresinkingin.It’smylife.I’mresponsibleformyhappiness.Andquitefranklymost
peoplearetoopreoccupiedwiththeirownlivestoreallynoticeorcare.I’mnotthat
importantintheschemeofWattsWorldandthatisliberatingtotakesomeofthe
weightoftheworldoffmyshoulders.
Ihaven’tgivenupontheinner-city–oronkidsorart-entirelythough.Inwhat
seemedtobeabitofdivineprovidence,abuddyIhadbefriendedfromalocal
architectureschoolsentmeanarticleaboutabuildingthatwasclaiming
architecturalkudosonSkidRow.Theaward-winningdesigntookanoldgarage
repairshopandconvertedthespaceintoanoasisofserenity,safetyandlearningas
thehometoInner-CityArts,anon-profitorganizationthatprovidesartseducation
toinner-citychildreninpartnershipwithLosAngelesUnifiedSchoolDistrict.Maybe
Ishouldcheckitout?Hellyeah!Soundslikeaperfectwaytoaddsomepaintintomy
workofart,er,life.
ThesurroundingneighborhoodmakesWattsfeellikeBeverlyHills,butassoonas
ICA’smetalgateslidopentoallowmeintotheparkinglot,Ifallinlove.Thebuilding
wasbeautifulandwhite,withtallfunkyshapesthatpoppedoutlikeabeaconoflight
andhopeinthisotherwiseshadyneighborhood.Inside,mymouthhungwideopen
asIwitnessedchildrencreatingsomeofthemoststunningartworkIhadeverseen.
Kidswereintentfullycreatinginonestudio,browsfurrowed,whilebrightshining
smileyfacesandlaughterwasfoundinthenext.Therewerenosillyartsandcrafts
goingonhere,insteadIdiscoveredseriouslycreativemusic,drama,visualarts,and
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ceramicsprogramsunderway.Imetwithoneofthedirectorstotakeatourand
decidedonthespotthatIhadtoworkhere.Itwasjusttooperfectwithmy
architecture,artandteachingbackgroundsallrolledintooneperfectsetting.
BeforeIleftfortheLandofOz,Ibecameapest,showinguptovolunteer,proposing
projectsthatIcouldtakeonuntilfinallythedirectorcalledupLosAngelesUnified
SchoolDistrictandfiguredoutawaythatIcouldworkatICAonasmallsalaryfor
oneproject.SinceIwasstillanemployeeoftheschooldistrictandICAwaspartially
fundedbythedistrict,Iwasabletoworkinmydreamjob(iebeaglorifiedintern)
andbepaidafewcoins.ThedirectorwarnedmethatI’dbemostlyconfinedto
helpingoutintheresourceroom,Iwouldn’tbeworkingdirectlywiththestudents.
Thatwasjustfinewithmefornow.Yes!Myfootwasinthedoor.
OnceIreturnedfrommytrip,Icontinuedprovemyworthandwhenanopening
appearedinthedevelopmentofficeIjumpedatit.Iwasgoodatcoordinating
becametheonetoplanthespecialeventsandhelpwithfundraisingtokeepthe
showrunning.
Ifeelinfinitelybetterwithmynewlivingsituationandnewinspiringjob.Addinthe
newfoundcircleoffriendsthatI’mmakingthroughMio’sgroupiesasevidencedby
thecarfulofusheadednorthandIcan’tbelievehowdifferentIfeelcomparedto
MexicanManEndofMyWorlddays.WhatI’mdiscoveringaboutmyselfthroughthe
classesI’mtakingwithCarrot-top,Q-tipandTempleareopeningmymindandheart
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too.WhileIcan’treallyarticulatewhatI’mlearningordoing–Discoveringanew
wayoflife?Figuringouthowtobemytrueself,whateverthatmeans?Onapathof
spiritualself-discovery?-itfeelsright.I’mspendingseveralweekendsamonth,plus
afewnightsaweek,atworkshopsorclasses.Iamgoingallout.
Maleattentionhasbeenhealingtoo.Kahunafinallycalled–andswungthrough
town,goingfromhere,headedtothere,rollinglikeastone.Heshoweredmewith
onenightofgoodlovingandthendisappearedintothesunset.Itdidwondersformy
mostlymendedheartandonthereboundego.
Wappycan’tquitefigureoutwhattomakeofallthis.She’spleasedaspunchthat
I’veleftWattsandICAlookscoolandinterestingevenifitappearstobetemporary.
Shecansensethere’sbeenashiftinmeandIseemhappier–sheandBazerwere
seriouslyworriedaboutmeborder-liningondepression.Butshe’snottoosure
aboutMioandhisclan.Whatareyoustudyingagain?Nobodyherehaseverheardof
it.Whydoyouneedtogotosomanyclasses?Whoarethesepeople?Hermamabear
protectivenessisonfullalert.IplaytheRingofFireoffasatripwithfriends,not
mentioningtheEwokconnection.
AswepullintoWalkerCreekRanch,Iscantheparkinglotandseeaneclecticmixof
thespiritualset.Theyarejumpingoutofcars,hugging,kissing,squealingindelight
atseeingeachother.TheNorthernCaliforniacontingentisoverjoyedtobehosting
alloftheirSouthernspiritualcousins.FromwhatIcantell,plentyofpeoplealready
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knoweachother.Andfromtheseactions,theyloveeachotherinarathertouchyfeelyway.
AlittleofmyPittsburgh-stand-offish-nesscreepsin.Ifeelmyselffreezeupabit.I
don’tknowalotofpeoplehereandI’mstillnotentirelyusedtoallthehuggingand
kissing.I’mrelievedwhenanothercarofSoCalEwokspullsin.Atleastafewfamiliar
faceswhoarewavingatmetocomeoverandthere’salwaysTrickster,AirMan,
Crackle,andLinitofallbackon.Igetoutofmycarandamjumpedintothefray.
Withinminutes,myanxietyeasesasallthecross-pollinationbetweenclansresults
infriendly,welcomingintroductionsandinvitationstocomealongandsettlein.
SoonIfindmyselfseatedonapillowthefloor,surroundedby50orsoother
believersinalargehallwithMiopresidingoverthegathering.Thereisariotof
miniaturewhiteChristmaslightsandshawlsandcandlesandincense.Mio’sintense
eyesarescanningthecrowd.Ashestartstospeak,it’sasifachannelofenergyis
flowingthroughhim,outhiseyes,andhe’slaserbeamingnotjusthiswordsbutalso
hisintenttoeachoneofus.Iamdriftingalong,ashespeaksofpowerand
connectiontosourceandtheelementsand…Ifeelmymindscramblingtomake
senseofwhathemeanswhileperceivingtheimpactofhiswordsonme
energetically.Iammesmerized.
MiospeaksforawhileandthenturnsitovertodonDonandWillow.Astheyare
speakinginslightlylessesotericterms,InoticethatMioisstandingofftotheside.
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There’ssomethingabouthispostureandthewayhe’sholdinghishandthatcatches
myattention.Whenhemoveshishandthat’sinanunusualposition,it’sasifhe’s
pullingastreamofenergyintotheroom.Icanfeelatug.ThenInoticeawhistling.
Everytimehegestures-andnowIseethathismouthismovingtoo,thewindkicks
up.Iwatchhimintensely.Hecan’tbecontrollingthewind,canhe?Ithadbeena
still,almoststiflingdaywhenwecameintotheroomandnowabreezethatwas
strongenoughtorifflehairwasmovingthroughtheroom.ThemoreIwatchhim,
themoreconvincedIamthat,yes,itishimsummoningthewind.Andthenjustlike
that.It’sdone.Hesitsdownandthereisnotanotherpeepofwindallday.
Mio’sstepsonIIIhastakenoverandisdirectingeveryonetogatheringinacircle.
Theroomisclearedandeveryonepressesintothecenter.I’mnotoneforbeing
crowdedbypeopleIdon’tknow,evenifthisgroupcouldpotentiallybean
exception,soIhangbackslightlyandfindaspotontheedgeofthecircle.Everyone
istouchinginsomeway.Holdinghands,armsdrapedacrossashoulder,ahiporfoot
connectedtothenearestbody.
IIIinvitesustosayMio’sRingofFireprayer.Aprayer??Myskingrowsitchy.Ifeel
allergictopraying,aleftoverfromGramdraggingmetochurch.Whattheheck?
EverytimeIgetonboardwiththisset,theythrowaspiritualcurveballatmeandI
wonderwhatI’mdoingherealloveragain.ButIIIexplainsthatprayerisawayfor
ustoputourfaithintoourconnectionwithGod.Wedon’treallyneedaprayertodo
this,butuntilwefullybelieveinourpowertoconnecttotheuniverseatwill,a
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prayerisausefultool.Okay,thatexplanationhassometeethtoit.IIIsuggeststhatif
wedon’tknowthisprayeralready,thatwememorizeitandsayiteveryday.Igulpat
thesuggestion.
LittledoIknow,thatoverthenextdecadeofsayingthisprayeratvarious
gatherings,thereisnowayIcouldescapeknowingitbyheart.Fortodaythough,I’ll
havetoclosemyeyeswitheveryoneelseandmumblealong.Icatchphrases:“the
Lord,”“divinity,”somethingabout“communingwithGod.”Itrynottogritmyteeth.
ButtherearewordsIcanrelatetotoo–“freewill,”“powerofourspirit,”gratitude,”
and“love.”Therearepartsthatcompletelyescapeme.ButIlikethelastline“Tothe
EternalHappinessofHumanity.”
Abeautiful,calm,quietdescendsontheroom.WhetherIknoworlikethewordsor
not,theenergyhasshifted.Ifeelmyselfsighandrelax.Thisisokay.Thisisgood.
Then,fromwithinthispeacefulness,thereisanenergeticripplethatblowsthrough
thecrowd.Itbuilds.Ihearpeoplebreathingmorerapidlyanddeeply.Myheart
startspounding.Theenergycrests.It’sasstrongasatidalwave.I’mhereandnot
hereatthesametime.Inthebackofmyconsciousness,Ihearsomeonespeakingbut
ittakesmeawhiletozeroinonthewordsorwheretheyarecomingfrom.
Ican’tresistopeningmyeyesandpeekingovertheheadsinfrontofme.Jay-Disin
thecenterofthecrush.Onlysomehowasmallspacehasbeencreatedaroundhim
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andhisarmsareraiseduptothesky.Jay-Disonefinespecimenofaman.He’s
gorgeousandcreativeandsuccessful.Heoozessexappeal.He’sjustphat.Although
henormallyhasashinypresenceabouthim,heisnowpositivelyglowing.Otherwordlyglowing.Thereissomuchlightbeamingoffofhim,Icanhardlyseehisbody
atall.Andhisfaceisupturnedinrapture.Heisspeakingwithsuchbeautyand
convictionandauthority.It’sbreathtaking.UnlikeanythingI’veeverwitnessed.
Ihearavoiceinsideofmethatsays,“YouareinthepresenceofJesus.”Tearsspring
tomyeyesandstartrollingdownmycheeks.Ifeelasearingheatripthroughmy
body.Igasp.Myheartfeelslikeit’sexploding,onfire.
Waywayfaraway,Ihearapipsqueakofanothervoicesaying,“Thisisjustcrazy.
Jesusdiedmillenniumago.HowcouldJay-DbeJesus?”Andyetthisvoiceissotiny
andinconsequential.ThetruthisthatIfeellikeIaminthepresenceofJesus,as
crazyandbornagainasthatmightsound.Thereissomemoaningandgentlecrying
goingonaroundme.Itdistractsmemomentarily.ThenIrealize,Idon’treallyknow
ifthisisJesusornot.ButIcaneitherhaveamentalargumentwithmyselfaboutis
orisn’t.Or,Icanletthatallgoanddropbackintothespacethat’sopenedupright
here.Aspacethatfeelstantalizingandamazing.Icanfeelthepleasantburning
that’signitedmyheart.Whattheheck.IchoosetogowithGod.
Afteracenturyorso,theenergydissipatesandbodiesstarttogrowrestless.There’s
lotsofadjustinggoingon.Forafewminutes,nooneseemstoknowwhattodo.
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Tissuesarepassedaroundandtearswipedoff.ThenIhearIIIsingout,emphasizing
hissoutherndrawl,“Loveisaburningthing.Anditmakesafieryring.Boundby
wilddesire,Ifellintoaringoffire.”Everyoneisgiggling.Someonecallsout,“Singit
Johnny!”
AndtheneveryonegetsinthespiritandbeltsoutJohnnyCash’schorus,“Ifellintoa
burningringoffire.Iwentdown,down,downandtheflameswenthigher.Andit
burns,burns,burns,theringoffire.Theringoffire.Theringoffire.”Apparentlythis
istheadoptedthemesongthatinevitablygetsrecycledattheeventeachyear.
Ismiletomyself.Thatwassomepowerfulshitthatjustwentdown.Somepowerful,
crazystuff.ChannelingChristoneminuteandCashthenext.Well,Ithink,atleast
thesepeepsdon’ttakethemselvestooseriously.TheRingofFireindeed.Mymindis
goingdown,down,downandmyspiritisbeingfueledtogohigher.
TheApprentice(andnotwithDonald)
ThefinalmorningofRingofFirewashailedasthegrandpoo-bahofallceremonies.
Everyonehadbeendirectedtobringallwhiteclothing.Thisedictmademealittle
nervous.Wasthisacult?Whywereweallwearingwhite?Nottomention,Ididn’t
likeshopping,particularlyforclothingthatI’dhavenogooduseforafterthis
weekend.(OrsoIthought.Inthosedays,Ewokspulledoutthewhitegarbwith
surprisingregularly.)
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WhenIcasuallyaskedaround,IdiscoveredthatthetraditionstartedwithMio’s
motherEve.Shewasthequeenbeeofceremonyandlovedseeingeveryonedressin
whitetorepresentthelight,thepurity,theinnocencethatexistswithinallofus.Eve
wasancient,butstillapowerhousewhoradiatedloveandfaith.Whileshewasn’t
MotherTheresa,Icouldn’timaginesayingnotoherrequest.PlusI’dlookridiculous
ifIwastheonlyoneinthecrowdwhowasn’tinwhite.
Iputasidemydoubtsandheadedtothemall.ApparentlyEwoksdidn’tjustwear
white,theyworedressywhites–outinthewoods.Andfiguringoutappropriate
footwearthatbothmatchedthewhiteandwassuitableforhikingwasnoeasyfeat.I
know,strangelot,thisbunch.
It’snowSundaymorningofRingofFireandweareallassembledinourwhitefinery
readyforourtrekintoagrooveintheforest.Idohavetoadmitthatit’spretty
stunningtoseeagroupoffiftyorsospiritualseekershighonlovedeckedoutinall
white.Imeanweglowedinsideandout.AndIwasrelivedtoseethatevenamongall
thewhite,eachpersonhadmanagedtomaketheiroutfitsomehowuniquelysuited
tothem–whetheritwaswithabeltorshawlorheadband,somethingtoretainour
individuality.
Thegroupisquiet–we’vebeenaskedtomaintainarespectfulsilencesowecan
focusonturningourattentioninwardandconnecttoaforcelargerthanourusual
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chatter.Oneoftheseniorteachersgivesthesignalandwe’reoffonabriefhike
throughthewoods.
Wewindourwaythroughscrubbrushandwispytrees,thesunlightdapplingthe
ground.Iinhalethesagescentandfeelashimmerpassthroughme.Timeslows.My
thoughtsslow.Mysensesheighten.I’mmoreawareofwhereIplacemyfeetonthe
ground.Myhandsfeeltingly.Thetemperatureoftheairregistersmoreacutelyon
myskin.EventhoughIhadfeltamildjudgmentafewminutesagothatallofthose
people(convenientlydissociatingmyselffromthegroup)wouldwearwhite,Inow
feltawarmthandopenconnectionpassthroughme.Ilinkupwitheveryonearound
me.HowcoolisitthatwewerecommuningwithGodinnatureandnotstuckinside
astuffychurchonaSundaymorning?
WearriveattheclearingandthegroupencirclesMio,whoisalreadytherewithIII,
donDon,Willow,andafewotherofMio’smostdedicatedteachers.LaDonaof
coursestandsout.ShetowersoverMio,whoisontheshortside.Ihavespentthe
weekendskirtingher,franklyintimatedbyherwisdom,grace,andlargepresence.
Alsointhecenterisamakeshift,albeitgorgeousaltarsetagainstasplendidred
cloth.Stunningbouquetsofcutflowers,powerobjectscarvedoutofstone,anda
largeceremonialswordareartfullylaidoutonit.Myheartstartspoundingalittle
morerapidlyandIdon’tthinkit’sjustbecauseofthehike.Theenergyispalpable
hereevenforanewbielikemyself.
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Ittakesafewminutesforeveryonetoarrive.Mostpeoplearestandingwiththeir
eyesclosed.Someholdinghandswiththepersonnexttothem.Me,Iwanttoknow
what’sgoingonsoIscanthecrowd.Inoticethatmostoftheteachersareclustered
intheinnermostringaroundthealtar,withtherestofusfillingintheoutercircle.
There’sTemple,Tita,Manny,Carrot-topandQ-tip.
IfingertheRingofFirependantaroundmyneckwhichIseenearlyeveryoneinthe
crowdhasthesameoneon.Jay-D,whobesidesbeinghalf-divine,isalsoahip
internationallyknownjeweler.Heforgedbeautifulmini-RingofFireswordsthat
wereexquisiteworksofart.Therepresenttheswordlaidoutonthealtar.
Hmmm…therearealsoahandfulofpeoplewhoarecarryingwhatlooklikesticks
wrappedinredcloth.Iwonderwhatthosearefor?
EventuallyIrealizethatIseemtobetheonlypersonwithmyeyesstillopensoI
closemyeyesanddropintotheenergeticbath.Ifeelmyselfslipandexpandand
relaxintheprimordiallovesoupthatisbeingstirredandservedup.Oneofthe
teachersinthecenterstartstheRingofFireprayer,Ican’tquitetellwhom,andafter
afewwords,theentiregroupjoinsin.
Theenergybuilds.
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Everyone’sattentionandopenedeyesarenowdirectedatMio,whoisholdingthe
swordoutinfrontofhim,pointingitstipateachperson’sheartasheturnsinaslow
circle.Ashepassesinfrontofme,Ifeelhisintenseeyescutthroughmeasthe
swordseemstoopenaholeinmychest.Igaspattheintensityofthesensation.In
thefarrecessesofmymind,Iwonderjusthowhedidthatsincehe’sagoodtenfeet
awayfrommeandhetouchedmejustastangiblyasaphysicalswordwouldhave
eventhoughwehadnophysicalcontact.AsMiomoveson,thethoughtdoestooand
Iamleftmarvelingatthepleasantmellowburninsideofme.
OnceMiocompleteshistourofthecircle,hebeginstalkinginhislovelySpanish
accent,hisvoicehypnotic.It’sasifthewordsareflowingthroughhimfromanother
planeandlodgingthemselvesdirectlyinsideofme.“Todayisthedaythatyouhave
theopportunitytoreclaimyourintegrity,toreclaimyourtrueself.JustlikeKing
Arthur,yourtrueidentityhasbeenhiddenforalltheseyears.Butnow,withthehelp
ofthepowerofyoursword,youwillbecomeawarrior,aspiritualwarrior.Asa
warrior,youwilluseyoursword–yourintent,yourword,yourawareness–and
pullyourselffreeofthestonethathasbeenbindingyoutoalifeofmisery,suffering,
anddrama.Withallyourpower,youwillreclaimyourdivinityfortheeternal
happinessofhumanity!”
IfeelmyselfswayingeventhoughIamnotmovingmyself.Mio’swordsfeelcrystal
clear,rightandtrue.Andyetanotherpartofmehasnoideawhathisistalking
about,beyondtheobviousreferencetostoryofKingArthur’sswordExcalibur.
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Butbynow,IamfamiliarwiththisMioinducedsensation–it’sasifheisspeakingto
anotherpartofmethatperfectlyunderstandsevenifthewords’meaningdoesn’t
totallyaddup.Isurrendertothefeeling.Iwantnothingmorethantohavethe
powertoendmyownsuffering–whetherittakesaswordorwhiteclothesorthe
helpofafunnylittlebrownman.
Mioinvitesalltheapprenticestojoinhimandtheseniorteachersinthecenterof
thecircle.Apprentices?Whoarethesepeople?Whattheheckisanapprentice?I
watchasthehandfulofpeoplewhowereholdingtheredsticksmakestheirwayto
themiddle.Myheartpracticallyleapsfrommychest.It’sallIcandotokeepmyfeet
rootedtothegroundandnotmoveforwardwiththem.ButI’mnotanapprentice.
EventhoughIhaven’tacluewhatthatmeans,Iverymuchwanttobepartofthis
innercircle.
Mioisspeakinginlowtonestothegroupofapprenticesinthemiddle.Each
apprenticeseemstobeflankedbytheteacherwhotheylivenearorstudywith.I
straintohearwhatMioissaying.I’veplantedmyfeetontheground,butmywhole
bodyisleaningforward.IfeellikeI’matanimpossibleangletostillbestanding.I
noticeTitaandCarrot-toparebothlookingatmeintently.Ismileweakly.Ireally
don’tunderstandwhatisgoingon.TheapprenticesareallnoddingatwhateverMio
issayingbutIcan’thearthewords.
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Mionowtakeseachapprentice’sstickandholdsituptothesun,thenturnsand
pointsthestickatitsowner’sheart.Someapprenticescryashedoesso,others
shudderandseemtobeevenlesssteadythanIamontheirfeet.Heplaceshishand
onafewpeople’sheadsorhearts.Inafewminutes,it’soverandtheapprentices
fadebackintothecrowdclutchingtheirsticks.
InoticethatI’vesuddenlygrownintenselycold.IfeellikeIamshakingfromthe
coreofmybeing.Apillarofenergyfrommyfeet,throughmybelly,heart,throatand
outthetopofmyheadiscoursingthroughme.Ifeelabitdizzy.Inspiteofmy
whites,IdecideIbettersitdownsoIfindanearbyrockandfeelmuchbetterwith
therock’snaturallygroundingenergy.
Mioopenstheceremonyupagaintotherestofthecrowd.He’spointingtoamulticoloredwovencloththatlookslikeitwashandmadeinMexico.Ontopofitisa
mediumsizedleatherbag.“Thisisamedicinebag.Themedicinemanineachtribe
alwayscarriedabagthatcontainedhismedicineinit.Eachofushasourown
medicinebag,filledwithallthetoolsweneedtohealourselves,ourminds,our
emotions.Thisbagisgoingtorepresentallofourintents.Weplaceapowerobject
inthebaganditwillstartworkingitsmagic.I’mgoingtostartteachingtheMedicine
Bagtothoseofyouwhoareready.Wearegoingtoburythismedicinebaginaplace
ofpower,wherewecanallgatherasacommunity,wherethebagcaninteractwith
MotherEarthandsendourprayersoutforallofhumanity.Ifanyonewouldliketo
comeforwardandplaceapowerobjectinthemedicinebag,youcancometothe
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centerandsayyourprayer.Ifyouforgottobringanobject,feelfreetofind
somethingonthegroundandturnitintoapowerobjectwithyourintent.Come.
Comenow.”
Apprentices?Powerobjects?MedicineBags?
Iambothinloveandenthralledwithallthispageantryandslightlyturnedoffbyit.
Onceagain,mymindiswondering,doesthiswork?How?AllthewhileI’mturning
thepowerobjectthatIbroughtoverinmypocket(ofcoursetheGoodGirlcame
prepared).AmIreadyforthis?
IhangbackaspeopleapproachthealtarandtheMedicineBag,kneeldown,and
placetheirobjectinthebag.Somepeopleclosetheireyesandseemtobepraying.
Othersdroptheirobjectandrun.Afewseemtomakeamoreelaborateritualoutof
itandholdtheseobjecttothesun,blowintoit,andthendeposititgravelyinthe
pouch.
WhenshouldIgoup?HowwillIknowwhenit’smyturn?Iwishtherewasamanual
forhowtheseeventsworked.ButthereisnoneandassoonasIstopworryingabout
it,IseeabreakinthemovementtowardthebagandIfeelmyselfpulledtothe
center.
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Iapproachthebagalittlewarily.ButasIkneeldown,mythirdeyefeelslikeawave
justcrestedthroughitandmyattentionispulledinward.Ihearaclearvoice
speakingfrommyheart,“Youarehere.Andyouaremeanttobehere.Itistimetolet
goofallyourworryingandquestioning.Youarepartofthistribe.Findyourteacher.
Becomeanapprentice.”
AndjustassuddenlythevoiceandtheenergyisgoneandbeforeIknowwhatI’m
doing,I’vepressedmypowerobjecttomyheart,droppeditinthebag,andamback
onmyfeet.It’sonlywhenI’mbacknearmyrockthatIrealizetherearetears
streamingdownmyface.Aquietsobcomesoutfromdeepwithin.Myheartfeels
likeit’sbeingsqueezed,sotightlythatit’sbothintenselypainfulandpleasurableat
thesametime.Ifeeladeepexquisitelongingripplethroughme.It’sasifI’vebeen
waitingmywholelifetohearthosewordsandbeinthisspotrighthere,rightnow.
Throughblurryeyes,IseethatMiohasraisedtheswordhighabovehishead,My
eyestravelalongitsgleaminghilttothetip,whereIcanseeapinprickoflightthat
shimmers,shimmers,shimmersuntilitburstsintoawavethatjumpsoffthesword,
attachestoarayofsunlightandtravelsuptoitssource.Ilapseintoclear,quiet,
nothingness.Thereisonlylight.Onlywhite.Onlyknowingandpeaceandsearing
hotlove.
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Miolowerstheswordinasmooth,straightintentfulline.Unbelievablethesun’sray
hasbeencaughtonitstipandisdepositedintothebagwhichWillowandLaDona
deftlyholdandthenwrapupwithleathercords.Itisdone.
SlowlytheEwoksstarttomaketheirwaybacktothemainretreatcenter.Isitonthe
rockuntilmosteveryoneisgonetryingtoabsorbeverythingI’vejustseenand
witnessed.Withthecrowdleaving,sohastheenergyandmymindstartstowhirl.
I’mmeanttoanapprentice?Ineedtofindateacher?DoIaskthem?Ordotheyask
me?ShouldIstudywithCarrot-topsinceI’vemostlytakenherclasses?Orwhat
aboutTita?I’vebeenthinkingI’dliketotakeafewworkshopsfromher.Andwhat
justdoesitmeantobeanapprentice?
Inoticethattherearen’tmanyEwoksleftinthewoodsandIdon’twanttobeleft
outherebymyself,soIfollowthelaststragglersbackwhileImunchonmynew
obsession.BeforehangingoutwiththeEwoks,Ihadnevergivenmuch
considerationtotheword“apprentice,”letalonebeingone.GoodGirlslikemewent
tocollegesowecouldrunbusinessesoratleasthaveareputablecareer.Wedidn’t
entertradeschoolswhereyouwouldbeapprenticedtoamastertolearnyourcraft.
Andthiswaspre-DonaldTrump’sversionofTheApprenticedays.
WhenMiocalledtheapprenticesforward,someseedofrecognitionwasignited.
MaybelurkingbelowmyconsciousnesswasthenotionofaSorcerer’sApprenticeas
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popularizedbyDisney’smovieFantasia?Thatwasoneofmyfavoritemoviesand
soundtracksfromchildhood.IsmileattheimageofMickeyMouseasamagician’s
apprenticedisobeyingthegreatsorcererandwreckinghavoconhisworkshop.Yes,
Icoulddefinitelyseemedeckedoutinacapewithsunsandmoons,aperkycapand
amagicwandtodomybiding.ButEwoksdon’tseemtowearcapes(thoughmanyof
thewomenlovetowearshawls)andtheyseemtofavorredsticksovermagic
wands.
ImentallyreviewwhocameforwardwhenMiobroughttheapprenticesup.From
whatIcouldtell,theseseemedtobethehip,mostlyyoungercrowdinMio’sgroup
thatattendedalltheeventstogetherandwerepartofanamelessinnercircle.Inan
instant,IknewIwantin!Iwashooked.Buthow?WhoshouldIapprenticewith?
WasIsigningmylifeaway?Wouldtherebeaweirdfrat-likeinitiation?
Imakemywaybacktomyroom,grabmyjournal,andheadouttotheporch.We
havealittledowntimebeforelunchandIwanttowritedownwhatjusthappened
incaseIdon’tbelieveitbackathome.WhenIgettothepartaboutbecomingan
apprentice,mybrowwrinkles.TiaorCarrot-top?IamdrawntoTitaforsome
reasonIcannotexplain.Butwon’tithurtCattor-top’sfeelingsifIdon’tpickher?
AndwhatifIdon’tlikeTitaafterIpickher?Ireallydon’tknowherallthatwell.
I’mdebatingaboutwhetherIshouldmakeaproandconlistaboutapprenticingfor
eachonewhenIcatchmyself.Thatdoesn’tseemliketheproperapproachfor
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pickingashamantostudywith.Isetdownmyjournalandamstaringoffinspace,
whenTitaasksifshecanjoinme.I’malittlesurprisedthatshejustappearedasI
wasthinkingabouther.Canshereadmythoughts?Wouldthatbeapositiveor
negativewhenstudyingwithateacher?IstammeroutayessinceI’malsoabit
surprisedsincewe’veneverreallyspokenone-on-onebefore.
Sheinquiresaboutmyweekend.Istumbleaboutforwords,notreallysurehowto
answerorhowmuchtoreveal.I’mnotsureifeveryoneelseexperiencedJay-Das
ChristorifI’mgoingalittlebatty.Idon’tknowifothersareslippingoffinto
trancelikestatesuntiltheydon’tfeelabletostand.Afterafewawkwardattemptsat
findingsomewords,Iblurtout.“Whatdoesitmeantobeanapprentice?’”
Titagrowsquietforalongminute,lookingdownatherfeet.WasInotsupposedto
askthis?DidImessupsomekindofprotocol?
Butwithanod,shesays,“Ah,yes,soyouarethinkingaboutbecomingan
apprentice?”
Iamabitconfused.Ididn’tsaythat.Howdoessheknow?Maybesheisamindreader.ThenIrealizethatmyquestionaloneisaneasyclue,nottomention,in
hindsight,itwasn’thardtoreadmyenergyandthereforemydesire.“Idon’tknow,”
Ifinallyadmit.“Maybe?I’mnotsurewhatoneis.”
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Titaseemstoconsiderthequestionforamoment.“Whenyoubecomean
apprentice,youaremakingacommitmenttoyourself.Youaresignifyingthatyou
arepursuingapathofawarenesswithallyourintent.Youwillcontinuepursuing
thisjourneyevenifyourmindsaysit’stoohardorifyoufeellikegivinguphalfway.
Youalsomakeasacredagreementwithateacherwhowillbeyourguideonthis
path.Youandyourteacherbecomeboundtogetherenergetically.Thenyourteacher
actsasyourmirrorsoyoucanseewhoyoutrulyaremoreclearly.Itisnot
somethingoneshouldundertakelightly.”
Webothfallsilentforafewminutes.Itsinksinwhatshehasjustsaid.Ifeelthe
solemnityofwhatshehasspoken.
“HowwillIknowwhoismyteacher?”Ifinallyask.Iturnandlookather,surprised
thatIamlookingdeepintohereyes,awindowintohersoul.
“Youwillknow,”shesaysasshepatsmyknee.“Youwillknow.”
Asshewalksaway,IthinkIhearhersayoverhershoulder,“Don’tthinktoomuch
aboutit.”Butperhapsthatwasjustthewind.I’mnotsure.
TheInitiation
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Don’tthinktoomuch.Yaright.Forthenextweek,it’sallIcanthinkabout.DoI
apprenticewithCarrot-toporTita?Atleastinaskingwhowith,I’vemadeitpassthe
hurdleofif.
AttheclosingRingofFirelunch,IstareatCarrot-top.ThenatTita.ThenatCarrottop.Tita.Severaltimestheyturnaroundtoseewhoisboringaholeintheirback,
butIquicklylookawaytoavoiddetection.Iprobablydidn’tfoolthembutIwas
certainlyfoolingmyself.
WhenIasked,“WhoshouldIapprenticewith?”TheanswercamebackCarrot-top.I
shouldstudywiththeteacherwhoIwasalreadystudyingwith.Didn’tIoweherthat
much?Shehadhelpedmesomuchalready.IadoredCarrot-top.I’dbesocontentto
snuggledownintohercozynestofahomeandfollowheraroundlikealittlepuppy.
ButIwasleavingthelandofshouldandenteringthelandwherelogicdoesnot
apply.Whilemyideaofbeingloyalandcommittedwasnoble,itwasanotion
comingfrommyheadthatwantedtomakethesafechoice.Fortunatelythatlittle
nagginggnatofdoubtwasbeggingmetoreconsider.Itlobbedmessagesandhints,
droppedasmanycluesasitpossiblycoulduntilIwasbraveenoughtowakeupand
sayyestothechoicethatwouldinspiremetostretchandgrow.
Inmyheartofhearts,eventhoughIkickedandscreamedagainstit,Iwasdrawnto
Tita.Butshealsoscaredme.Sheshimmeredwithpower.Icouldseemyselfinher
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anditfreakedmeout.AsIswiveledmyheadbetweenCarrot-topandTita,Tita
seemedtothrowoffanaura.AsI’mpackinguptoleaveRingofFire,IseeTita
everywhere.Shestartsinvadingmynighttimedreams.Ican’tstopthinkingabout
her.Everyoneissuddenlymentioninghertome.Finally,Titasendsoutaflyer
announcingthathernewapprenticeshipprogramisnowopenandaccepting
applicantswhileCarrot-topsaysshe’stakingabreakfromteachingforafew
months.Iposttheflyeronmybulletinboardandtrytoignoreithangingtherein
frontofmyface.
You’dthinkIwouldhavereceivedthemessageloudandclear.Butno.DidImention
thatIrishstubbornnessrunsinmyfamily?
FinallyIbreakdownandgoseeCarrot-top.ItellhermydilemmaandhowmuchI
adoreheranddon’twanttohurtherfeelingsandwhyIthinkI’msuchabadperson
forwantingtogowithTita.Carrot-topisofcoursenottheleastbitoffendedand
understandscompletelyandthinksTitaistheperfectchoiceformeandgivesmea
greatbighug.Whichofcoursemakesmequestionmychoicesomemore.
I’mbackinmyroomstaringatTita’sflyer.Therewillberegularapprenticecircle
gatherings.I’llneedtoworkwithherprivately.AndI’mexpectedtoattendWomen’s
WorkshopsattheGardenoftheGoddessinNewMexico,whereLaDonareigns.
Gulp.Crap.Really?CanI?DoIwantto?WhatamIgettingmyselfinto?HowwillI
payforallthis?Roundandroundwego.
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I’mstaringatthephotointheflyerofthelandsurroundingtheGardenofthe
Goddessuntilmyvisiongrowsblurry.ThensuddenlyIpopthroughthepageandit
feelslikeI’mhoveringoverthesandstonecliffs.Icanseethelandscaperisingup
aroundtheretreatcenter,shieldingitfromtheroad.Piñontreescoverthehillside
andacreekcutsthroughtheland.Icanseethecourtyardbetweenalltheadobe
buildingsandayurt.Idon’tknowwhatayurtisanddidn’tevenknowIknewthe
word“yurt,”butthereitis.Underneaththeland,Iwatchasarockbedofquartz
glows,infusingthesurroundingareawithpowerandhealing.Itamplifieswhatever
isgoingdownhere.Andwhat’sgoingdownispowerful.
Justassuddenly,I’mbackinmychair,myheadisspinning.Didthatreallyjust
happen?Ilookatthephotographagain.Fromtheangleofthephoto,there’snoway
IcouldseeallofwhatIjustdid.Butmaybemyimaginationwasmakingitallup?I
amprettycreative.
Thelittlevoiceinsideofmesays,“Stop.Juststop.Pickupthephone.CallTita.
Enoughalready.”
IamtiredofthegamethatI’vebeenplayingwithmyself.Ittakestoomuchenergyto
keepresistingtheinevitable.MyhandsareshakingandIhavenoideawhattosay,
orevenwhatIdosay,butIdoit.ImakemyintentcleartoTitathatIamreadytobe
herapprentice.
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Titaisgracious(andI’msurelaughingatwhattookmesolong)butalsoall
business.Therewillbeaninitiationceremonynextweekend.I’vemadethecallin
timetojointhegroup.SherattlesoffalistofwhatIwillneedtoassembleto
officiallybecomeherapprentice.I’llneedajournal,aredcloth,leathercords,power
objects,asmallpouch,aphotoofMiopreferablywithmeinit.Shegivesmethetime
andplace–Shaman’sCaveinCoralCanyon.Seeyouthere.Click.
HowdothesepeoplepullofffindingplacescalledShaman’sCaveinLA?LA!?!I
shakemyheadasIhangupthephonesmiling.Stillintimidated,butsmiling.Ifeel
likeI’vejustwonthelottery.WhatwasIsoafraidof?Wasthatsobad?Icatcha
glimpseofhowmuchItorturemyselffornogoodreason.I’msoconcernedwith
whateverybodyelsethinksandfeelsthatIignorewhatIknowandfeel.Sillyrabbit.
TheappointedSundayrollsaroundandIheadtothecanyonwithmyassorted
paraphilia.IcanspotTitafromamileawayasI’mdrivingdownthedirtroadtothe
entrancelot.Notsomuchfromherlooks,butfromherenergy.Thereareahalf
dozenofuswhoareheretobeinitiated,afewthatIrecognizefromthevarious
communityeventsandafewnewfaces,pluswhatappearstobetwoorthree
studentswhoareassistingTita.Asthelastfewstragglersjointhegroup,wegreet
themwithanodandsolemnsmile.Inoticewithsurprisethatmymindiscalm,even
thoughmybodyisfidgety.
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Wheneveryonehasarrived,wetakeashorthikeupthroughscrubbrushona
narrowwindingtrail.I’mremindedoffthemoonlighthikeItook10monthsago.
Wow,howmuchhaschanged.AlthoughIstillfindmyselfthinkingthatpartsof
beinganEwokarecrazy,I’mgrowingmoreandmorecomfortablewithmyspiritual
self.Atleastenoughsotowanttocommittobeanapprentice.
Wearriveatthecave,whichhasbeendugoutbywindorperhapswaterlongago.
Enclosedbyrockonthreesideswithalargemouthofanopening.Plentybigenough
forourgrouptomovefreelyaround.Insidethecaveisasmallmakeshiftfirepit.I’m
amazedthatthereisn’talotoflitter.PerhapsthecaveisprotectedbyitsShaman
namefromteenagersandparty-erswhocoulduseitastheperfecthideout.
Titaspringsintoaction.LikeatRingofFire,aclothaltarisbeinglaidout.Isense
thatasacredspaceisbeingcreated.Titaispreoccupied,andnotjustwiththe
preparations.She’slaidoutapipewithsometobaccoandherbs(butnoherb)init.
Energetically,sheseemstobeoffinanotherrealm.Therestofusstandaround
ratherawkwardlyinaloosecircle,notsurewhattodo.Ishiftfromfoottofoot.
There’snotalotoftalkgoingon.
Aflutterofthebreeze,thesunflowingthroughtheskyintothemouthofthecave,
theceremonysignalsthatit’stimetobeginwithaperceptibleshiftintheenergy.
Titafinallylooksupatusandwithabroad,welcomingsweepofherhandmotions
towardthealtar.Therestofussneakglancesateachother,weseemtobeinvitedto
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depositourspiritualstashonthecloth.Asonebravesoultakesinitiativeandlays
downtheirpowerobjects,Titaflashesasmilethat’senoughofanencouragement
fortherestofustofollowsuit.Thealtarbootyjusttripledinsizewithstoneeagles,
rings,necklaces,heart-shapedrocks,scrollsofpaper.Theflotsamandjetsamof
trinketsthathavemeaningtoeachowner.AcollectionofphotoswithMioemerges.
Nextwelayoutourredcloths,pouches,leathercords,andjournals,eachofus
havingfollowedTita’sscavengerhuntlisttoperfection.Forseveralminutespockets
andbagsareunloadeduntilwehaveanimpressivedisplaytoaddtoTita’sstarter
kit.
Titamotionsforherhelperstocomecloser.Kneelingdown,shepicksupwhatlooks
likeastonepestle,dropssomesweetsmellycopalintoitandlightsitonfire.She
holdsitupoverherheadanddowntowardthegroundbeforeblowinginto,causing
acloudofsmoketoencircleherhead.Sheraisedthepestleonemoretime,
encirclingherhead,thenplacesitbackontheground.Instinctually,Iknowsheis
clearingherselfenergeticallyforthisceremony.
Nextshelightsabundleofsage,repeatstheprocess,thenstandsupandbrushesthe
sagethroughtheairasifshe’spushingandclearingunseenforcesaroundthealtar.
Hermovementsarequickandlightandsure.Sheoccasionallystopsandlooksout
intothetreestopsorstaresoffmomentarilyinthedistanceasifshesurveyingthe
area.Ifollowhergazebutwhateverinvisiblesignsshe’spickingupon,Icannot
detect.
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Whensheseemssatisfied,shemovesontoherassistants.Theystandneartheedge
ofthealtar,withtheirfeetslightlyapart,eyesclosed,armsbytheirsides.They
obviouslyknowthedrill.ThistimeTitapicksupabeautifulwingofeaglefeathers
andusesthewingtosendthesmokearoundeachhelper.Nextisthesageandfinally
theshesprinklesthemwithafewdropsofwaterfromaglassvial.Whenshe’sdone,
theassistantsstepawayfromthealtar,andfaceeachother.
Withoutspeaking,Titazeroesinononeoftheinitiates.Hereyesmovetothe
passagebetweenthehelpers.Thereiscommunicationhappeningwithoutwords.
Thefirstofmyfellowapprentices-to-bestepsbetweenthehelpers.Thetwogoto
work,runningtheirhandsinsweepinggesturesaroundtheinitiate’sbodywithout
evertouchingit.Theyseemtobepullingenergyoffheranddirectingittothe
ground.Whentheyarefinished,Titatakesoverwiththecopal,feathers,andsage.
Theinitiatedoessomehowlookcleanerandclearerwhentheprocessisdone.She
stepstothesideandplantsherfeetontheground.Theceremonyhasofficially
begun.
It’snowmyturn.“Herewego!”isallIcanthinkasIstepbetweenthehelpers.Iclose
myeyesandfeelthepleasantsensationofreceivinganauraclearing.Itfeelsasif
energeticgunkisbeinggentlyliftedandpulledawayfromme.IshiverslightlyasI’m
beingscrubbeddown.
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IstepforwardandasIdo,Tita’sgazecatchesmyeyes.Ifeelmyselfrootdown,down
intotheearthandopenupintothesky.I’mtallerthanI’veeverbeenbefore.Asher
eyespenetratemine,Iamsuckedintoadark,cooltunnel.Ifeelaphysicalforcepull
metowardher.IhearwhizzingsoundsasifItravelingatimpossiblespeedsthrough
anarrowpassageway.Izigandzag,therearewhispersandglimpsesofbeingin
sacredceremoniesbefore.ButIammovingsofast,fallingsoquicklythroughthe
voidinhereyesthatIcan’tlatchontoanyoneimage.
Titabeginstousetheeaglewingandthecopal.Slowlydeliberatelyshe“smudges”
me.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoooosh.MyeyesflutterclosedandIwouldswearthata
realeagleisbeatingitswingsnexttome.Witheachdownstrokeandswooshofair,I
dropdeeperinsideofmyself.Thenoisesofthecityfadeaway.Allthoughtscease.
Mybreathisloud,ocean-likeinmyears.
Titapaysparticularattentiontomyheart.Thebeatingofthewingbecomesfaster
andstronger.Iampushedbackwardwithsuchforcethatoneoftheassistantsput
theirhandonmybacktokeepmefromkeelingover.Titaplacesonefingeronmy
heart.Anelectriccurrentpassesbetweenus.Ifeelasifmyheartmightexplode.I
stopbreathingforamomentandtheworldsuspendsitselfwithme.Idriftintothe
mostserene,stillspace.
AndthenmyeyespopthemselvesopenandIamonceagainstaredintothedepths
ofTita’sbrown-blackeyes.Weseemtostareateachotherforaneternity.Shenods
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andasImovetoassumemyplaceinthecircle,Istumbleslightly.Shesmilesand
catchesmyarm.Itakeadeepbreathtoclearsomeofthedizzinessfrommyhead
andshuffleover.Maybeitispropertostand,butImustsitastheotherinitiatesare
prepared.
Onceeveryonehasbeengivenagoodenergeticsmokebath,Titaspeaksslowlyand
clearlyforthefirsttime.“IcallintheenergiesoftheNorth,South,East,andWest.I
calltoFatherSunandMotherEarth.St.Michael,comejoinuswithyoursword.
Archangelsandavatars,youarewelcomehere.Guides,comeandplaywithus.Mio,
ourbelovedMio,andMadreEve,Iinviteyoutobepresentwithustoday.”
Asifagreatcauldronisbeingstirred,asmallwhirlwindofenergyrises.Titaisinthe
center,inthecalmeyeofthestormandwearebeingrockedbytheenergeticwinds
swirlingaroundher.Ishiverandsway,alternatinghotandcold.
“Todayisthedaythatyoubecomeanapprentice.Youaremakingacommitmentto
yourownpath,tobringingforthyourauthenticself.Thiscommitisbasedinthe
worldofspiritandbroughtforthintobeingbyyouractionsinthisworld.”Tita
pausesandgesturesaroundher,lookingateachofusdirectly.
“Youwillfacemanychallengesonyourpath,challengesofyourowncreation–old
beliefswillcometothesurface,patternsfromchildhood,ingrainedhabitsand
behaviors.Emotion.Yes,lotsofemotion.Andcertainlydoubt,fear,andconfusion.
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Therewillbetimesthatyouwillloseyourfaith.You’llfeellikeyouareoff-trackand
wonderwhyyoucan’tseemtostayonthispath.IhavewalkedthispathmyselfsoI
knowwhatisinstoreforyoufrompersonalexperience.”
She’snotmakingthissoundveryappealing.Asifreadingmymind,sheasks,“Are
yousureyouwanttomakethiscommitment?”Eachofusnod,somelookingmore
confidentthanothers.
“Becominganapprenticeisyoucommittingtoyourself.Iamheretobeyourguide
andyourmirror.Whenyoudonothaveclarity,whenyou’renotsurewhattodo,
whenyoufallpreytoyourmind’schatterandthewhirlwindofemotion,Iwillhold
thespaceforyoutoseeyourselfasyoutrulyare.Youarethelight.Youarethelove.
Iwillbeheretoinspireyou,butitisuptoyoutodothework.AmImakingmyself
clear?”
Aslywispofathoughtflickersthroughmyotherwisequiethead,“Man,shedoesnot
messaround.”Andjustasquicklyanotherfollows,“Areyouheretomessaround?”
Iconsiderthisquestionseriouslyandrealizethatno,Iamnolongerheretomess
around.Iwantthis.Imaynotunderstandit.AndIhavenodoubtthatIwillface
doubtandself-judgmentandfear.ButIdowanttoenterthisagreementandthis
relationshipwithTitaasmyguide.
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“Lookaroundyou.Wedothisprocessincommunity.Thecommunityinthiscircle
andalsothelargerEwokcommunity.Wesupporteachotherandasagroup,wewill
buildourenergy.ButIdonotwantyoutalkingaboutyourprocesswitheachother.
Ifyouhaveaquestion,aproblem,orneedareflection,youcometome.Talkingwith
yourpeerswillonlycreatemoredramaandconfusionwithinyouandwithineach
other.Understood?”
Ilookaroundandponderthisagreement.I’mnotallowedtotalktomyfriends
aboutwhat’shappeninginmylife?Whatwillwetalkabout?Ifindthisprovisiona
littlestrictandunsettling(andIgoontobreakitmanytimes)butIsupposeIcan
seethewisdomingoingtoTitaifIwanttotrulypullmyselfoutofthequagmireof
mylifeinsideoflookingtosomeonewhomostlikelyknowsthesameasme(ie
nothing).
Titacloseshereyesandseemstosummoneachenergyandpower.Sheopensher
eyesandcontinues,“Youarebeinginitiatedintoamysteryschooltoday.Mystery
schoolscanbetracedbackforthousandsofyears.Theywerecreatedbygreat
masterswiththeintentofservingthelightandpassingdownspiritualwisdom.
Mysteryschoolshavebeenkeptsecretinordertoprotectthewisdomandkeepit
frombeingdistorted.Eventhoughweareenteringatimewhenthiswisdomwill
becomemoreavailabletotheworld…”Titapauses,tiltingherheadtoaccessmore
information,“Yes,asyouknow,MioisbringingtheEwokwisdomintotheworldas
prophesized,butwhatyoulearnhereisnottobesharedbeyondourcircle.Itisnot
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intendedforyourfriendsandfamily.Iftheygetaholdofthisinformation,theycan
useitagainstyou.”
Anothershiverrunsalongmyspineandgoosebumpspokeuponmyarms.Iam
excited–andnervous–tobejoiningamysteryschool.Howcoolandmysteriousis
that?AndIalsohavefirsthandexperiencewithfamilytwistingthelittleinformation
thatIhavesharewiththem.Althoughit’skindofspookyandmaybeabitcultishto
keepsilentaboutwhathappensinourcircle,Ialsoinherentlyfeelthewisdomin
this.
Well,ifIdidn’tunderstandwhatanapprenticewasbefore,Icertainlydidnow.I’m
makingapledgetoallowallmycraptocomeupandnotrunaway,whilekeeping
mybigmouthshut.I’lldomybest…
Titadirectsustogofindastickthatspeakstous.“Atalkingstick,”Ithinkironically.
Thisstickwillrepresentourintegrity,thepartofusthatiswholeandhasbeen
coveredoverbyourdomesticationandbeliefs.Usinganactofpower,wewillinfuse
thestickwithourintent.Whenthestickbreaks,onitsownaccord,wewillbefree
andnolongerapprentices.
IflashbacktotheRingofFire.Intheparkinglot,oneoftheNorthernCalifornian
apprenticeshadletoutawhoopthatstartledmewhensheslammeddownthetrunk
ofherpackedtothebrimcarandintheprocessbrokeherstick.Ibegintowonder
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howmystickwillbreak?Howlongwillittake?Ah,myovereagermindatwork.I
haven’tevenbecomeanapprenticeyetormadeastickandalreadyI’mracingahead
towhenI’mdonewiththispartoftheprocess.Ireignmyselfin.First,findthestick.
Wescrambledownfromthecaveandscatterthroughoutthecanyon.Mymindis
havingabitofafielddaywiththeideathatthestickisgoingto“talktome.”Idomy
besttoshushitandfocuson“hearing”whichstickappealstome.Izigzagaround
theparkforabit.No.Nope.Notthatone.
Finally,Idecidetositstillforafewmoments,closemyeyesandtuneintoadifferent
frequency.WhenI’mcalmerandmoresettled,Iopenmyeyes,slowly.Thelightis
intensesoIsquintabit.I’veshiftedintothatdreamyhazyspace.Asmyvisionclears,
Iseemystickislyingafewfeetinfrontofme.It’sabeautifuldeepchestnutbrown,
withstrandsofgoldenwovenin.Kindastraight,kindacurved,withacrooked
branchbitatthetop.It’smaybeaeighteenincheslongandagoodtwoinchesin
diameter.Perfect.HowcouldIhavenotseenitbefore?Itwasliterallyrightinfront
ofme.Iflipoveronmyhandsandkneesandreachoutforit.Itfeelsrightinmy
hands.Solid,butstilllightweightenoughtocarryaroundeasily.Settlingbackonto
mybottom,Isitwiththestickforafewminutestoconfirmthatthisistheone.
Ilaughtomyself.Yes,thisisit.Ioftenfeelarushofknowing,followedbyaperiodof
“feelingitout,”gettingusedtoanewelementinmylife,makingsure.
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ImakemywaybacktothecaveandseethatIamoneofthelasttoarrive.Titaisat
work,silentlydemonstratinghowtowrapthestickwiththeredclothsthatwehave
eachbroughtthenbindingthemwithredstringandfinallywiththeleathercord.I’m
amazedthatabunchofstickswithstrandsofredthreadandleathercaneachbeso
uniquelydifferentandsomehowreflecttheirowners.Oneistiny,dainty,
meticulouslywrapped,thenextbulkilyandhaphazardlythrowntogether.Aftera
fewfugitiveglances,Ifindmysticktobesuperiorforthelot–justsoinsize,
artisticallybound,withtheperfectshadeofdeepred.ThenIcatchandchastise
myself:thisisnotacompetition.Oh,andthereIgo.I’mnotsupposedtojudge
myself.Itakeadeepbreathandgentlyremindmyselftostop.Breakthecycle.
IattempttomorehumblyfollowthenextstepsinTita’slead.Iholdeachofmy
powerobjectsinmyhanduntiltheyhavebeenwarmedwiththeheatofmyhand.
Withallmyintent,Iblowmybreathintoeachone,infusingitwithmylifeforce.A
familyring.AnobsidianheartfromMarzipan,homeoftheEwokpyramidswhereI
hopetojourneysoon.Asilverdollarwithaneagleonittosymbolizedesirefor
freedomandabundance.Idropeachoncarefullyintotheleatherpouchandattach
thistothestickaswell.
Titaisnowkneelinginfrontofmewithherpipeandapileoffeathers.“Chinchasa,”
shesaysholdingupthenativeherb/tobaccomixasshecarefullyplacesitinthe
pipe.Shelightsthepipeandtakesadeepinhale.Ihopeshedoesn’taskmetosmoke
it.I’veneversmokedanythinganddon’twanttochokeonthis,eventhoughIknow
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itdoesn’tcontainanythingillicit.Shetakesmystickandblowssmokefromher
moutharoundthestickbeforehandingitbacktome.Sheinhalesagainandblows
thesmokearoundmyhead.Iinhalethesweetaromainthesmoke.Thankyou,God,I
canstillsaythatIdidn’tinhale.
Nextsheturnsherattentiontothefeathers.Somearecolorfulandexotic,others
smallandplain,afewgorgeousstrongeagle,owlandhawkfeathers.Shelooksme
upanddownbeforepullingoneoftheeaglefeathersfromthebunch.Yes!Ifist
pumpinwardly.Itmatchestheeagleonmycoin,correspondstotheeagleenergyI
sodesperatelywanttocultivateinmylife,andsomehowjustseemsspecialand
appropriateformystick.TitashareswithmethelineageofthisfeatherandIsmile
atthemeaningit’shadinherlifethatisnowbeingpasseddowntome.Somuchfor
beinghumble.
Thefeatherisaddedtothestickanditisbeautifulandcomplete.Isitquietlywith
mystickrestinginmylap,onehandholdingontoit,checkingoutitsheftandfeel.A
currentofenergyisdefinitelyrunningthroughit.IfeelasifI’vejustbeenhanded
myHarryPotterwizardwand.
Theotherapprenticesfinishupandtheworldseemstogrowstillandquietaround
us.Thereisnorustling,nocars,nootherpeopleinthepark.MyeyescloseandI
journeydeepinsideofmyself.Iamsweptawaybyasilentundergroundcurrentof
energy.Itbathesmeinthecoolest,clearestpools.Idrifttosacredspacesaroundthe
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world.Iamwelcomedwithopenarmsofgoddessesandpriestesses.Iamwhisked
offtowaterfalls.Itumblethroughtimeandspace.
IfeelapresenceinfrontofmeandopenmyeyestoseeTita,awashinwhitelight
standinginfrontofme.Sheoffersmeahandandpullsmeupinfrontofher.
EverythingbutTitaandmyselfhasfadedaway.Icanhardlyseeher–herfaceand
bodyarefadinginandout.Sheislight.Myeyesarelight.Thesunislight.
Titatakesmystickandpointsittothesun.Anoffering.Sunlightmeltsdownand
aroundthestick,runningdownherarm.Iraisemyoppositearm,holdingmypalm
uptothesun.Ahotsparkburnsinthepalmofmyhand.I’mholdinganemberfrom
thesun.IscoopuptheemberandplacemyhandovermyheartjustasTitapoints
mystickatmychest.Thereisatangiblepop,aburningthatignitesmyheart.
Titadrawsintentfulsmallcirclesaroundmyheart,graduallyexpandingoutward.
Withdeftmotions,shedrawstheenergyupthroughmythroatandoutofthetopof
myhead.Sheusesthesticktopulltheenergydownthroughmywomb,spending
ampletimethere,beforedirectingtheenergytoflowthroughmylegsdownintothe
ground.IfeelasifI’vebeenpluggedintotheuniversalenergysocket.Iambuzzing.
Alive.Filledwithlightandhappiness.
Hereyeshaven’tleftmine.Withoutwords,Ifeelagreementsbeingspoken.Promises
andallegiancesmade.Sacredcommitments.Understandings.Wisdomtransferred.
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Memoriessharedbothdistantandfuture.Iaminaweofthedepthof
communication,thedepthoflove.IhadnoideahowmuchIloveherwithallmy
beinguntilthisverymoment.Tearsspringtobothofoureyes.
Herenergyreachesoutandenvelopesme.Myenergysurgesforwardtodanceand
playandacquiesce.Mioisinthemixaswell.Hehasalwaysbeenandalwayswillbe.
AndyetwhatispresentissomuchlargerthanaMeghan,aTitaoraMio.Lifeforce.
Light.Yes,Iamyours.Iamheretoserve,tolearn.Isayyeswithallmyheartand
soul.
Myheadbowsonitsownaccord,withgratitude.Ihavefoundmyteacher,my
teachers.Thereisnodoubt.
Ilookupandherfaceisaswetandradiantasmine.Shebrushesatearfrommy
cheekandthenfromhersandmoveson.
Isit.Iabsorb.Iamstill.
Iamanapprentice.Anapprenticetoashaman,whowasapprenticedtoashaman,
whowasapprenticedtoanothershaman.Andsoitgoes.Andsoitis.Theseedof
ShamanGirlhasbeenborninShaman’sCave.
TheGardenoftheGoddess
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IamheadingtoaWomen’sRetreat.IamheadingtoaWomen’sRetreat.Really?I’m
headingtoaWomen’sRetreat??
ForaslongasIcanrememberIhavebeenaonebestgirlfriendkindofgal.Guy
pals?Lotsofthem.Multitudes.(Well,atleastuntilIgotmarried.)Don’tgetme
wrong,it’snotlikeIshunnedwomen.Therewerealwaysafewintheperiphery.
AndbeinginaWomen’sLeadershipTrainingInstituteincollegewasverywomen’s
libofme.ButIhavealwaysbeenmorecomfortablewithguys.Notsureifitcanbe
creditedtoWappyalwaysdressingmeinoveralls–nopinkfrillydressesonthisgirl
(sheclaimsIrefusedtoweardresses)orIjustwasabonafidetomboy.Natureor
nurture?Don’tknowbutneverwasoneformake-up,gossipychats,oranygirly-girl
stereotypes.PlayedontheboysLittleLeagueBaseballteam.GotpickedtoplayKing
oftheHillwiththeboys.Nowasatwenty-something,Ihadneverspentaweekend
withjustwomen,letalonewithbad-asspowerfulwomen,goingintothegoddess.
QuitefranklyIamabitintimidated.
Beyondthehow-am-I-going-to-navigate-a-weekend-of-girl-powernerves,ismy
trepidationaboutthelocation–andthegranddameteachers.Weareheadingto
TheGardenoftheGoddess,LaDona’sretreatcenterinthehighdesertoutsideof
SantaFe.TheGardenoftheGoddessisMio’smainbasecampwhennotinCali.Yes,
thesameGardenthatluredmeintocallingTitatobecomeanapprentice.Itglowed
withstrongkickyourtransformationintohighgearvibes.
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TitaandLaDona,thetwomainfemalepowerhousesinMio’scircle,areleadingthe
weekend.Whilethetwoofthemcouldn’tbemorephysicallydifferent,afemaleMutt
andJeff,astallasLaDonais,Titaissmall,theybothshareanimpressiveabilityto
seerightthroughyouandyourb.s.Theyradiatetapped-into-sourcepower,which
tendstomaketherestofusmeremortalsfeelabitsmall.Luckilytheybothsharea
fiercedesiretohaveeachoftheirapprenticesandstudentsconnecttoourown
poweranduniquewayofexpressingourselvesintheworld.Andthey’dgotoany
lengthstomakethathappen–includingtakinguscitygirlsoutintothedesertand
intotheGarden.
PowerfulhappeningsaresaidtogodownattheGardenoftheGoddess.Fabledto
havecrazystrongenergy,lotsofdirt,andsomewhatprimitiveaccommodations
eventhoughLaDonaworkedtirelesslytoupgradeityear-by-year.There’dbeno
beds,noprivacy.We’dbesleepingtogetheronsleepingbagsinayurtforgoddess’s
sakewithanRVparkedoutsidethefrontdoor.Andshit,itwasalsorumoredtohave
lotsofspidersandscorpions.Forsomeonewhoneedsheralonetime,Iwasn’tso
sureaboutthisplan.
Mytravelingcompanionsdidn’texactlymakeiteasierforme.Lini,Tita’sdaughter,
PrincessKnowItAll,andIaretravelingastheLAPack.Iadorebothofthem.Liniis
gorgeousinaverylaidbackway,notreallyknowinghertruebeauty.Shealways
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lookschicandinsyncwithherenvironment–somehowfindingtheperfectclothing
foranysituationonashoestringbudget.Sheisfunnyandhipandcreativetoboot.
PrincessKnowItAllisastickthinmodel,writer,andaspiringactress.She’swildly
make-you-snortkindoffunny.AndIkidyounot,shecomeswithatrunk.Anactual
readytosetsailonatrans-Atlanticoceanlinerinthebygonedayskindoftrunkthat
hasthehottest/coolestclothesthatweretotallynotgearedtoaweekendinthedirt.
Butsomehowshepullsitoff,highheelsandall.
NeedlesstosayIfeellikethecountrybumpkin.Itisn’tjustthatmylackofstylish
clothesthatmademefeelinferior,itisaninnerdiscomfortofhangingwiththecool
chicks.WillImakeadorkofmyself?WillIfindenoughtosay?Willwestillbe
buddingfriendsbytheendoftheweekend?Fromtheoutside,I’msureitlookslikeI
fitrightinandthethreeofustogetherareabitloudandobnoxious,evenifIfeel
smallandabitlame.Whilestayinghomewouldhavebeensomuchcozierand
simpler(nottomentioncheaper),I’vecommittedtohangingwiththebigdogsby
signinguptobeanapprenticesoIaminandheadingtoplaywiththegoddesses.
Inagreatplumeofdust,thethreeofus–andPrincessKnowItAll’senormoustrunk
–aredumpedattheendoftheGarden’slong,curvingdirtdriveway.Asthedust
settles,theretreatcenteremerges.Setamidstastunningbackdropofrock
outcroppingsandcrystalclearbluesky,southwesternstylebuildingsarearranged
inaUwithacourtyardinthemiddle.EerilyandexactlyasIenvisioneditfromthe
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flyer.Totheleftaretheesteemedguestquarterswhichservesasasmallcasitafor
visitingteachersorapprenticesonlongerretreats,thegroupkitchen,andgroup
showers.Yikes.Groupshowers.
AtthefarendoftheUisLaDona’sprivatehomewithaninvitingporchandgarden.
Onlynooneexcepttheinner,innercircleisinvitedtocomeupontheporch,let
aloneenterLaDona’shome.Thereisasigningwarningyouthatyoutakeyourlifein
yourownhandsshouldyoucomeinuninvited.Awomanneedsherownprivacyata
retreatcenter.Icanrespectthat.ItwilltakeyearsbeforeIfeelcomfortableenough
toenter,evenafterinvitedin.Atthecorneristhedogkennels.LaDonaisagreat
loverofdogsanddefinitelythealphafemaleofboththecanineandEwokpacks.
Notconnectedtothemorepermanentadobestructures,butheretostay
nonethelessaretheyurt,hometoallthemanyworkshopsontheland,andtheRV,
hometothelive-incaretakeroftheGarden,abuddingEwokteacher,MilitaryMan,
whohasbeenbanishedfromtheGardenofEdenfortheweekend.Girlsonly.Ohboy.
Witharaisedeyebrowandsomechidingcommentsaboutthetrunk,whichPrincess
KnowItAlltakesinstrideanddoesamini-satireofherselfonthespot,weare
usheredintotheyurt.Forthoseofyounon-Mongoliannomadsand/oroutsidethe
spiritualretreatcenterbuildingonabudgetset,ayurtisa(theoretically)portable
structurewithacircularfootprintthathasaribbedroofthatcomestoapointinthe
center.Thisonecouldbetakendownwithmucheffortbutwasbuiltasalarge
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openingmeetingspacethatcouldhandleupwardsof50peoplesittingor25
sleepingontheground.Withmultipleplasticwindowsandevenskylights,theyurt
wasbothroomyandintimate.Itwasn’tdifficulttoimagineitsoriginallayoutand
use,firepitinthecenterwithsmokewaftinguptothetipoftheroof,women
squattingaroundcooking.DecoratedwithNativeAmericanrugsandpaintings,
crystalsandlargerocks,plusplentyofotherspiritualaccouterments,itreallywas
theperfectsettingtogetintimatenotonlywithourowninnerbeliefsanddemons,
butalsowithouropen-mindedandopen-heartedspiritualgirlwarriors.
Westashourstuff,meetthe20othercrazyladieswhohadsignedupforthisevent,
andsettleintobackjackswhileTitaandLaDonaopentheshow.Letthecircusbegin.
AsIwatchandlisten,IamamazedthatIhaveneverconsideredwhatitmeanstobe
inmyfemininepower.UnconsciouslyIhavealwaysassociatedbeingstrongand
powerfulwithbeingasguy-likeaspossible.Isubtlydismissanythingsofterand
morefeminineasbeingweaker.Nowherearetwoobviouslystrongandpowerful
womenwhowerefeminine.Notgirlyorfrivolous,feminine.
“Eachofyouareaninherentpartofthedivinefeminine….”Thesewordscreatea
disturbanceinme.Thisworkshopisn’tafeminineempowermentbootcamp.Atits
foundationisthestrongknowingthateachofusaredivine.Wearedivinity
embodied.Andwehappentobeinfemalebodiessothisgivesusaccesstouniquely
feminineenergy.Thisenergywasaboutbeingnotdoing,goingininsteadofheading
out,aboutreceivingandnurturing.Ithonorsintuition,theinternalcommunication
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channelusedbythatsparkofgod(dess)withineachofustoguideanddirectusin
navigatingtheouterworld.Itwastenderandkindandloving.
Asthesewordswashoverme,Igotreally,reallyquiet.Justthismuch,thesefew
minutesofwisdomareenoughtoponderforaweekend.Receive?Betender?
Nurturemyself?Iamnotfamiliarwiththeseconcepts.Well,yes,Ihaveheardof
theselovelysoundingideas.Buttoputthemintopractice?Andno,notwithothers
orwithadude,buttowardmyself?
Revolutionary.
Icouldorganize,accomplish,think,direct,finish,rally.Icouldmovemountainswith
theforceofmywillcoupledwithmysuper-hemi-chargedbrain.
Be?Justbe?
Notsosureaboutthat.HowwillIfigureouthowtobe?
Titacatchesmyeye,“Thisisnotaboutfiguringanythingout.It’snotaboutthinking
yourwayintothefeminine.Thisweekendisaboutyoulettinggo,surrenderingto
thisprocess,tothisland,totheenergythatexistshereandisalsoalreadywithin
you.Youareheretoopentothegoddesswithin.”
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“Yes,m’am,”Isilentlysqueaktomyself.Howtheheckdidshealwayscatchmy
doubtingthoughts?
Fortonight,ourofficialassignmentistowelcomethedivinefeminineenergylatent
inthislandintoourbodies,mind,anddreams.Unofficially,Iammoreworriedabout
navigatingthegroupbathroomsandavoidinganycreepycrawliesonmiddleofthe
nightpottyruns.Aftersettlinginonthenotsocomfortablefutonmat/sleepingbag
comboonthefloor,Itrytosleep.Coyoteshowlinthedistance.Strangerustlings
moveoutsideourglorifiedtent.Iamnotusedtobeingawayfromthebustleofthe
city.Mythoughtsfeelamplified.Thepoundingofmyheartislouder.Throughthe
skylight,Icanseemillionsofbreathtakingstars.IamdefinitelynotinLA-LAland
anymore.
EventuallyIdriftofftosleepwithanaturesoundsymphonyplayinginthe
background.IdreamthatI’mstandingoutside,notfarfromtheGarden,inasmall
canyon.Ilookupthecanyonwalls,uptothestarsandreachmyhandsoverheadto
touchtheminanactofchildishwonder.Mydesiretotouchtheskymakesmegrow
upwarduntiltheconstellationsareweavingthemselvesinmyhair.Themoon
becomessparklingbling.Ifeelbigandairy.
Ilookdowninaweatthelandscapethatspreadsoutbeneathme.Thechangeinmy
focuscausesmetodivedown,reversingmyoversizeselfuntilIshrivelintoatiny
holeintheearth.Irevelinburyingdowninthemud,thendeeperdownintothe
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solidquartzrockbedunderground.FromhereIspreadoutthroughMotherEarth,
feelingsolidandcontenttobesohuge,soabletosupportallthelifeonmysurface.I
baskinthemoonlighttouchingmysurface.ThemoonandI,asMotherEarth,giggle.
ShewavesatmeandIfeelmyoceanswavebackingreeting.Thesoundofthewave
lullsmeintoadeeperanddeepersleep.
Iawakerefreshedandsurprisedatmyabilitytosleepsowellinthismassofbodies
strewnaboutthefloor.We’vebeenaskedtoconservewater–theGardenisona
well,sooneshowerperpayingcustomerperweekend.AlthoughIwoulddearlylove
toshowermyselfawake,IdecidetosaymyshowercredituntilI’mtrulyfilthyandI
haveafeelingthatI’mgoingtobespendingtimeinthedirtoverthisweekend.
It’sagroupefforttoprepareandferrythefoodbetweenthekitchenandtheyurt.
Everyonepitchesinandhavingajobgivesmeasenseofpurpose.I’mnotusedto
havingfreedowntime.Thejacked-upnervousenergyoflastnight’sarriving–both
physicallyandenergetically,hasstartedtodissipateandagroupcamaraderiestarts
tobud.I’malwaysblownawayathowcloseandopenpreviousstrangersbecomeat
theseevents.Everyone’swillingnesstotakealeapoffaith,sharetheirinnermost
thoughtsandunresolvedemotionscreatesanintimacythatIhaven’texperienced
before.It’sboththrillingandalittleuncomfortable.
ThatdiscomfortgetsputtothefulltestasTitaandLaDonapullthewholegroup
togethertostartourday.We’retopairupwithsomeonewedon’tknow,atleastnot
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well,andsitfacingeachother.Ifeelthatgrade-schoolamIgoingtogetpickedfor
theteamkindofworryriseupinme.Ilookabiteagerlyaroundtheroomandmeet
eyeswithOmNamah.Shesmilesinvitinglyatme.Uhhh,us?Partners?
ItrynottosighloudlyasOmNamahmakesherwayacrosstheroom.OmNamah
pushesmybuttonsabit.Dressedinlong,flow-yclothescoloredinbrightturquoise
andgreenswirls,deckedoutingorgeousturquoiseandsilverjewelry,she’syour
imageofaNewAge-yspiritualseekerpersonified.She’salittleflightyand
ungrounded,alwayssmiling.Idon’tknowher,buthaveoverheardhertalkingabout
angelsandcrystalsandallthewoo-woothatsetsmyteethonedge.Sheembraces
meinawarmhug.WhydoesshehavetobesofriendlyandnicewhenI’mfeeling
judgmentalandpicky?Andisthatherrealname?Whowouldnametheirkidthat?
Ifnothergivenname,whowouldchangehernametothat?
Titadolesouttheinstructions.Wearetositfacingeachothersothatourkneesare
touching,thenwearegoingtostareintoeachother’seyes.Myeyesdartaroundthe
room.Otherthaninpost-coitalmoments,Ihaven’tspentmuchtimeinmylife
staringintoasomeoneelse’seyeswhichareascanttwofeetawayfromme.Thisis
unpleasant.Iwanttojumpupandgetsomefreshair.Whydidn’tIpicksomeone
else?
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“Checkintowhatyouarefeelingrightnow,”Titainstructsus.“Areyoujoyous?”No.
“Uncomfortable?”YES.“Canyoustarttobreathandrelaxintowhateveritisthatyou
arefeeling?”Iguess?
“Letallyourjudgmentsandopinionscomeup–aboutthisprocess,aboutyour
partner,aboutyourself.Letthemcome.”
Mymindjumpsattheopportunityandspewsoutajumbleofopinions.“Thisis
stupid.Whyarewedoingthis?OmNamahisafreak.What’sherproblem?What’s
MYproblem?WhydoIhavetobesojudgmentalallthetime?”
“Listen.Breathe.Breatheintoyourheart.Youarepresent.Youarehere.Look
deeper.Openmore.ThispersonsittingacrossfromyouISyou.Eachofushavethe
samefears,thesamethoughts,thesamedesires.Seeyourselfbeingreflectedbackto
you.”
Ibreathealittledeeperandattempttorelaxintomyself.PerhapsOmNamahis
lookingatme,thinkingI’msomekindofweirderthatdoesn’tbelonghere.This
thoughtmakesmesmileandOmNamahautomaticallyreflectsmyfacialexpression.
Itwasjustlikelookingintoamirror.
Igrowabitstillerinternally.Iamhere.Iamher.Sheisme.Isoften.Hereisanother
humanbeing.Sheloves.Shecries.Shehasworrieslikemine.Shedoubtsherselflike
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Ido.Sheputsonridiculousmaskstomakeherselffeelbetterandsaferingroups,
justlikeme.
ThemoreIlookintoOmNamah’sface,themoreIfallinlove.Look!It’sme.It’slife
movingthroughanotherhuman.
Tearsstarttotrickledownmyface.Ican’tbelievehowbeautifulsheis,how
beautifulIam.HowcouldIdislikeshewhoisalsomesomuch?Myheartmeltsand
cracksopen.Ihearsimilarsnifflesquicklytricklingthroughouttheroom.
Iamhumbled.Moreopen.
“Now,receive.Receiveallthelovethatisinfrontofyou,behindyou,comingup
fromtheearth,fromyourownheart.Drinkitin.Fillyourselfup.Youarelove.You
areloved.”
Foroncemyminddoesn’tgointoacommentaryabouthowlameallthiswould
soundinanyothersituation.Ijuststopfightingandresisting.Myjudgeshutsupfor
afew.Ibreatheinthelove.
Titainvitesustocloseoureyesandsoakitallin.Igetlostinahazy,dizzy,sweet
space.Timeslows.Lifegetsverystill.Mmmmmm.
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WhenIcometo,IfeellikeIhavebeenonthemostrelaxingextendedvacation.My
mindisquiet.Icanhardlyprocessthewordsoractionsaroundme.Itappearsthat
wearetakingabreakforlunchandwillreconveneintheafternoon.OmNamahandI
giveeachotherabighug.Iknownothingaboutwhatshedoesforaliving,where
shelives,orwhatherfavoritecoloris,butIfeellikeIknowherintimately.She’s
gonefrombeingastrangertoasoulsister.Wild.
Istumbleoutsideintothesunlightandpropmyselfupagainsttheyurt,revelingin
thisspace.Yum.
Mini-MeMia
Afteradeliciouslunch,wehititagain.Theafternoonwillbeanintimatelookwithin
ourselves,allbyourlonesomes.Ourinstructionsthistimearetogooutontothe
landandmakefriendswithourinnerchild.Eachofushasapartofourselvesthat
wedecidedtohidewhenwewereyoung,thesweetinnocentpartofusthatwants
nothingmorethantobeloved,protectedandnurtured.Intheprocessofbeing
domesticated,welearnedtoturnawayfromwhatourinnerchildwantedandturn
towardgainingthelove,approvalandattentionfromtheadultworldaroundus.For
manyitwasanecessarysurvivalstrategytocopewitharoughouterworld.For
others,itwassimplyapartoftheusualhumanexperienceoffittingintohomes
whereadultsheldthepowerandauthority.Someofusputonthemaskofthegood
girl,whileotherswentthebadgirl/rebelrouteorcreativelymix-matchedthetwo.
Wearetore-establishcommunicationwiththisinnerlostsoulandbeginanew
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relationshipwhereourolder,wiseradultselvescanlistentoourinnerchild’swants
andneedsandintegratethemknowinghowtonavigatethelargerworld.Afterwe
reclaimourinnerchild,wearegoingtoinvitethedivinefeminineenergytomore
fullylivewithinusbringingmorekindles,love,andcompassiontobothourinner
andouterlives.
Wecantacklethistaskanywaywewish–journaling,hiking,meditating,doinga
visionwalk,rollinginthedirt.Goforth,warriorgoddessanddon’tcomebackuntil
you’redone!
Nottoomuchtoaskforoneafternoon,right?
Imakeamini-productionofassemblingmywaterbottle,hat,sunscreen,andjournal
eventhoughIhavenoplanstoventureveryfarfromtheinhabitedpartofthe
retreatcenter.I’mstillalittlewiggedoutbytheideaofscorpions–andwehave
onceagainbeentaskedwithaprocessthatIhavenoideahowtoaccomplish.
Iwanderoutside,takealookaround,andambledownthedriveway.Thereisalittle
culvertofftothesidethatispartiallyobscuredfromthecompound,whichgivesme
somesemblanceofprivacywhilepsychologicallyreassuringmeofbeingcloseto
whatqualifiesascivilizationouthere.
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Ibrushsmoothapatchofgroundandsitmybottomdown.Okaaaay,nowwhat?
ThereisstillquiteacollectionofsmallrocksthatarepokingintomybehindsoasI
startdiggingoutamorecomfiespotformyself,Istartmindlesslyarrangingthe
stonesinacirclearoundme,muchasasolitarychildmightdotooccupyhertime.
Thisprobablyisn’thowTitaandLaDonaenvisionedmespendingtimewithmy
innerchild,butI’mgoingwithit.Sothere!
Withtheringcompleteandfeelingquitepleasedwithmyself,Isnuggleintothe
middleandwithasigh,closemyeyes.Timetogetserious.IrealizeI’vejustcreated
aprotective,sacredspacearoundme.Hmm.Maybethatwasn’tawasteoftimeafter
all.
Ifeelashaftofenergywraparoundmeandattheouteredgeofmyconsciousness,I
catchaglimpseofasmall,curlyblackhairedlittlegirldartby.Istraintoseewhere’s
she’sgone.Shepeeksoutfrombehindatree,half-formed,half-light,lookingtoseeif
I’mwatching.Assoonaswemeeteyes,sheducksherheadbackbehindthetreeand
Igasp.That’sme!
MybellyistightsoItakeadeepbreath.I’vedoneafewhypno-therapysessionswith
Tita.Icandothis.Isimultaneouslyrelaxintomyinnerworldandfocusmore
acutely.
“Hey,littleone,”Igentlycallout.“Willyoucomeout?Iwon’thurtyou.”
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Onehazeleyeemergesfrombehindthetree.Withastubborntossofcurls,she
makesitclearthatshe’snotgoingtobethateasy.
“What’syourname?”Iask.“MynameisMeghan.”Ifeelalittleself-conscioustalking
tomyownselfthisway,butluckilyonlyme,myself,andIareheretowitnessthis
spectacle.
“Mia.”Herlipsdonotmovebuthernamecomestome.
“Oh!Miamore!Nicetomeetyou,”Isaytohersweetly,knowingherfullnameinan
instant.Mylove.Sheseemsintriguedthatanadultcancommunicatetelepathically
withherandafewmoreinchesofherwraparoundtomysideofthetree.
“I’vebeenwaitingalongtime!”hereyescloudoveraccusingly,herbrowfurrowed.I
havetoconcentratetohearhermessagessinceshe’snotspeakingoutloud.Itmakes
mybrainacheabit.
“Iknow.Iamsosorry,butI’mherenow.”Mybellyclenchesagainatheranger.I
havetoremindmyselftokeepbreathingdeeply.Keepmyheartopen.Keepthe
channelflowing.“Whathaveyoubeenwaitingfor?Doyouwanttotellme
something?”
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MiashakesherheadNOandstompshertinyfootontheground,whichreleasesa
puffofdirtaroundherleg.She’sobviouslystillpissedatme.Herlowerlipis
trembling.
“Okay.Wouldyouliketoshowmesomething?”
Miatiltsherheadforamoment,considering.Shehalf-shrugs,turnsherback,and
startswalking.Itakethisasayes.Whew.Iwasn’taneasychild.
Miabecomesablur,easilymovingovertheground,throughtimeandspace.Iwatch
assheopensabox,filledwiththeflotsamandjetsamofchildhood.Bitsofsticks,a
nail,rubberbands,afewbrokentoys,abarrette,thenubofapencil.Ipeerintothe
box,murmuringapoliteadult“verynice.”Shelooksatmewounded.Thisisherbox
oftreasures!Iplacemyhandonherback,chastised,andlookinagaingivinghermy
fullattention.
Underneaththebitsandpiecesisalivingmosaicofmemories.Thebottomofthe
boxisakaleidoscope,swirlingbitsofwoundsandjoys.Iammesmerized.Ireachin
topickuponeofherinnermostfeelingsandcupitgentlyinmyhand.Itspinsand
glows,filledwithlight.Herentirefacelightsup,entranced,aglowinthereflection.
Thememoryspinsfasterandfasteruntilitspinsitselfoffmyhandanddissipates
intolittlesparklesintheair.Miajumpsuptocatchthefirefliesoflight,delighted
andlaughing.Whentheyarenolongerwithinherreach,sheturnsbacktothebox.
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Ilookinagain.Oneofthememory-sensationslooksdark,cloudy.Boltsoflightning
zapthroughit.IcheckinwithMiaforherpermissiontopickthistempestup.She
nods,drawingbackslightly,inaweofmybravery.Islidemyhandbeneathitand
feelpinpricksofangerandsadnesscrackleinmyhand.IsquatdownsoI’monMia’s
levelandholdituptooureyes.Big,wettearsareforminginthecornerofhereyes,
clingingtoherlongblacklashes.
“Youwerereallymad,weren’tyou?”
Mianods.
“Youdidn’tknowwhattodowithsomuchfeeling,huh?”
Mianodsagain,thetearsnowrollingdownherface.Myheartmelts.Thelightningis
nowaccompaniedbythunder.
“Thenyougotintotroubleforbeingmad?Andthatmadeyoumadder.”
Miashrugs,thepainofrememberingtoostrongtoadmitthetruth.
“Ohsweetie,”Ireachoverandpullherintoahug.Thestormhoversbetweenour
twochests,beforedissolvingintoourhearts.Ifeelallhersadnessandmadnessand
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pain.Shestartssobbingintomyarmsandthetearsarenowtricklingjustasstrongly
downmyface.
“Iamherenow.I’mhere.”
Wearebothsobbing,finallylettingallpushedawayemotionscomethrough.Icry
forher,formyself,forallthechildrenwhodon’thavesomeonewholovesandholds
themthroughtheirpains.Memoriesofsmallslightsandlargerblow-outsflood
throughme.Somuchfeelinginthislittlebody.Miaopensthedoorsandshowsme
allthecrevicesandcrannieswhereshe’shiddenherself.Herintegrity.Shereveals
allthethoughtstoo.She’sbad.She’snotloveable.She’snotgoodenough.She’snot
perfect.Asthesensationsflowthroughus,theywashawaytheseold,untruestories.
Whenwearedoneourgoodcry,Imakeasolemnvowtoher.“IpromiseIwilltake
careofyou.Anytimeyouneedme,youjusthavetocallandIwillbehere.Ifyou
showmewhat’sinyourboxofloveandhurts,I’lllistentowhatyouwantandneed.
We’llworktogether,likeateam.Okay?”
Shesnugglesincloserinagreement.
“Youstickbymysideokay?”Hereyesareclosingsleepily,butshenodsandhalfsmiles.She’snolongerhalf-formed,she’salllight.
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Aphantom-fairyfluttersupfromherheart,winksatmeanddartsofftoplay.She
divesdownintothedirt,thentwirlsherwayupintotheaircausingamini-tornado
toforminherwake.Thephantom-fairysprinklesmewithdirt,amusedbythemess
andmysneezing.Withawickedleprechaun-likegrin,shegathersupacloud-fullof
dustanddumpsitovermyhairlaughing.She’sgivingmeadirtbath.
Whattheheck,Ijoinin,scoopinguphandfulsofredearthandrubthemintomy
skin.Iscrubmyneck,myshoulders.Ivigorouslywipeawayanycloggedenergy
aroundmyheart.AnotherhandfulandIscruballthetearsawayfrommyface.The
fairyisdoubledoverlaughingandIsmile.Energetically,Iamclean.I’mgoingto
needtocashinmyshowerchitafterthisexperience.Phantom-fairydisappearsina
dustdevilandIrealizehowexhaustedIam.
I’mcompletelywipedout.Miaisstillcurledupbymyside,hercheeksflushedand
rosy,alreadysoundasleep..AnapsoundsdelightfulsoIstretchout,kickingsomeof
thestonecircleoutofthewaytoliedown.Inolongercareaboutpotential
scorpions,Ijustwanttofeeltheearthsolidlybeneathme.Miamumblesinhersleep
andthensighs.Ipatherbackandthenplacemyhatovermyfacetoblockoutthe
sun.
I’mmeltingintotheearth.Avibrantgreenenergycurlsuplikeavineandsnakes
aroundmylegs,mytorso,mychest,myhead.I’memptying,rejuvenating,being
lovedupandcleaned.Thetendrilsreachintomyheartandheadandpullanylast
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specksofoldenergyfrommybodyintotheground.Ibreathe,letgo.Breathe,letgo.
Soothing.Sosoothing.
ImusthaveconkedoutforhoursforwhenIawake,acoldshadowisblockingout
thesun,whichisdecidedlylowerinthesky.Isquintupattheshadow,tryingto
makesenseofwhatjusthappen.
“Iseeyouareafellowdirtgirl,”Titagrinsdownatme,assessingmydisheveled
mess.“C’monsleepydirtgirl.It’stimefordinner.Hadtosendoutasearchpartyfor
you.”
Sheoffersmeahandtopullmeup,surprisingstrongforhersize.WelinkarmsandI
tellheraboutthemostincredibledreamIhadwithalittlemunchkinnamedMia,as
wejogbacktothecenterandthewelcoming,openarmsofallmyfellowdirtgirls–
anddivinegoddesses.
Aheavenlymealandrefreshingshowerfollow.Wearesentofftobedwithpraises
andpatsforallthegoodwork.TitaandLaDonaretreattothehouseformargaritas
nodoubt,butusyurt-dwellersaretoojackeduponenergytotuckourselvesinjust
yet.PrincessKnowItAllcomestoourrescue,entertainingthetribewithher
achinglyaccurateimpersonationsofEwoks,startingwiththeteachers,movingonto
someofuspresentintheroom,andforthegrandfinalepokingfunofallthewarring
partsofherselfthatriseupatthesesoul-searchingevents.Godthatgirlisfunny!We
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laughuntilwepracticallypeeourselves,finallywearingourselvesdownforthe
night.
Morningscomeswithdarkskies.Westaytuckedintotheyurt,recappingthe
weekend,sharingoura-hasandrevelations.TitaandLaDonasqueezeinanother
ounceortwoofwisdom.Theworkshopisnearingtheendwhentheskiesopenup.
Itstartsbucketing.Wecannotbelievetheferocityofwaterthatisrainingdownon
ouryurt.Agoodomen!Wearebeingwashedclean.
We’llgohomesparkling–buthungryifthelunchcommitteedoesn’tgetourfinal
mealgoing.Afewbravesoulsdashtothekitchen,shriekingandinstantlysoaked
through.Therestofuscheerthemonfromthedrysafetyoftheyurt,collectively
prayingthattherainwillstopbeforelunchisready.
Nosuchluckorsimplynotenoughwitchypowers.
Huh?
Muffyburststhroughthedooroftheyurt,soppingwet,holdingoutatrayof
EggplantParmesan,sportingonlylongkitchenglovesandafull-blownviewofher
latesttattoo.Herhelpersslideinbehindher,onecompletelynecked–exceptfora
jauntybandanatiedaroundherneck,theotherinjustherbraandpanties.Wethair
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flingswildlyaroundthem.“LUNCHISREADY!!”Theyyell,shakingtheirboobiesand
booty.“COMEANDGETIT!!”
Weareallmomentarilystunnedbeforethe“ohmygods!”andgigglesstarttofly
aroundtheroom.Thereisnohopeofstayingdryinthistypeofrain.Besides,there’s
onlywomenhereandwearereadytocelebrateourjoyoflifeandletourwildcrazy
selvescomeouttoplay.Whynot?Afewofusstartstrippingdown,eagertojoinour
sillysistersoutinthemud,otherscheerusonsatisfiedwithsteamingplatesoffood
fromthedrydoorwayoftheyurt.
Someofusgofullmonty,otherskeeptheirskivvieson,butallofusdancewith
abandon,whoopingandhollering.Splashinginpuddle.Whoo-hoo!Wepaintour
faceswithmud,tribalgoddesses.Wearealiveandwellandhealingandlovingand
playing.Together.
Justthen,wehearthesoundofapickuptruckwindingit’swayupthelong
driveway.Whocouldthatbe?Acuriousneighbor?MilitaryManassumingthatthe
workshopwasoverbynowanditwasallclearforhimtoturnhome?Wefreezefor
amoment,unsurewhattodo.Runandhide?Shakeourtittiesathim?Weonlyhave
anotherthirtysecondsorsobeforeheroundsthebendandseeallofusbootyliciousbabescavortinginthecourtyard.
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MysteryManandhispickupcontinuetobuckandbounceuptheroadunawareof
whatliesinwait.Hecomesintosightandbynowtheanticipationofanaudiencehas
onlyfueledourfires.Wearescreaminganddancinginanevenwilderfrenzy.
Thetruckslowsasthedrivertriestoprocessthesightbeforehiseyes.Ithoverstoa
stop.Throughtherain,wecan’tmakeoutwhoitisbutwecanimaginethegearsin
hisheadturning.AwisemanwouldhavechosentodriveTOWARDagroupofnaked
goddesses.Butperhapshewasafraidofbecomingthetokenmalesacrificesohe
slamsitintoreverse,haulingassbackwardsdownthedriveway.Apparentlyhoards
ofnakedEwokwomenhalf-deliriousafteranothersuccessfulheart-opening,mindbogglingweekendwherejusttoomuchforthismalesoul.
Hisretreatstirsourfierceferal-nessintooverdriveandwesurgeforwardasa
group,chasingafterhisquicklyrecedingtruck,screamingandyellingathimlike
banshees.“That’sright!Youshouldbescared!Wearewomen!Weareallpowerful!
Wearegoddesses!”
Westopjustshortofthehighway,satisfiedwithprotectingourselvesfrommale
intruders,bondedtightasfemalespiritualwarriorsconnectedtoourinnergirl
childsandourdivinefemininebadbare-assedselves.Itwillbemonthsbefore
MilitaryManadmitssheepishlythatitwashewhoretreatedfromthisrather
unorthodoxandwetsituation.
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FreetoWorshiptheIncanGods
Theold,batteredbusthat’sbeenforcedupandovermountainspassesafewtoo
manytimesgroanstoastopanddisgorgesusinfrontofourhotelinCusco,Peru.
FarfromtheslightwhiffofsicknessthatkickedoffmyfirsttriptoMarzipan,here,I
amwishingfordeathasaformofrelieffromthemetalbandthatistightening
aroundmyskullastheresultofsoroche,thedreadedaltitudesickness.Ifeelmore
exhaustedthatIeverhaveinmylife.Thecurvingroadthatclimbsthemountainside,
huggingtheedgesofheart-stoppingdropsdoesnothelpinsoothingmydizziness.I
can’tseestraight.Foreverythousandfeetthatwegaininaltitude,andhereweare
at11,000ofthosekillers,Ifeelmorenauseous.WhydidIwanttocomeonapower
journeytoPeru?
OverthepastfewmonthsIhavebeenedgingcloserandclosertotheepicenterof
Mio’stribe.Notbycalculation,butratherfromsheerinterestandpersistence.I
showup.Overandoveragain.Igotoanythingandeverything.I’vegonetoallof
Mio’sMedicineBagworkshopsattheGardenoftheGoddessontopofallofTitaand
LaDona’swomen’sretreats.Inevermissaneventwhenhe’sintown.Tomydismay,
IoftenfallasleepattheseweekendsmakingmewonderwhyIspendmybucksonly
tosquandermyattentioninhispresence,butMioassuresmethatonsomelevelI’m
“gettingit.”Nottoworry.I’mmakingprogress.IamfullyensconcedinTita’s
apprenticeprogramaswellsomynightsandweekendsarefullofmitotes,retreats,
classes,privateappointments.Thereisagroupofteacherswhomeetsregularlyin
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LAasoneofMio’spods,andIhavemadethecutforthataswell.Iamafull-blown
Ewokgroupie.
WhenthecallgoesoutinvitingteachersandseriousstudentsonlytogotoMachu
Picchu,theinfamousIncacityinthecloudsoftheAndes,Idesperatelywanttogo.I
don’tknowwhyexactly–Peruissaidtobeamentally,physically,andemotionally
exhaustingtripanditfeelsevenmoreesotericallyoutsideofmyworldthan
Marizpan.ButIamfeelingthepull.Miowarnsthatthiswillbeanintensetrip,fullof
transformation.I’mundeterred,butdoIqualifyasaseriousstudentworthyofPeru?
NextupfortheEwoktribeisatriptoEgypt.Thisoneisforteachersonly.IknowI
don’tqualifyforthisone.EventhoughIwouldlovetoseethegreatpyramids,Idon’t
thinkmybankaccountcanbearanymoretraveling.Marzipan,Australia,New
Zealand,SantaFe(afewtimes),andnowPeruisasmuchasitcanbeandisarecord
forme.
IhaveyettofigureoutthatMioregularlyissuesedicts–onlypeoplewhoareblank
orwhohavebeenstudyingforsuchandsuchmanyyearsareinvited–andifyou
believethatyouarepartoftheselectgroupyouare.Converselyifyoudon’tbelieve
whateverpronouncementMiohasissuedandyoucountyourselfin,thenhey,good
foryou,c’mon!Let’sgo.Mioismoreinterestedinyourownbeliefinyourselfthan
anyarbitrarybarhesets.Hewantsthecreamofthecroptofloattothetop,
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continuallypushingustobeawareenoughandpowerfulenoughtohandle
whatevercomesourway.
SohereIam,seriouslyinPeruandseriouslysuffering.Themoreseasonedtravellers
havebeenmunchingoncocaleaves,whichareahighlyeffectiveremedyforaltitude
sickness,amongothertraditionalmedicinaluses.Inmyblearystate,Icannot
processthatthisformofcocaisnotthesameascocaine.Justasgrapesarenotwine,
theyneedtogothroughanextensiveprocesstoturnalcoholic,cocaleavesdonot
turnintococainewithoutsomeseriousmanipulation.Butnomatter,Irefuseon
principle.Idon’ttakedrugs!
AmorepracticalYesDoctakesonegoodlookatmeandstuffssomecocainmy
mouth.“Chew!”shecommandsandIdo,scrunchingupmyfaceagainstthegrassy
taste.Myirrationalbeliefaboutthisnon-drugisgettinginthewayofthereal
possibilityofbeingseriouslyill(ortherarepossibilityofdyingasaresult)innot
acclimatingtothishighaltitudelandscape.Ugh,theleavesdonottastegoodandare
dryandscratchytoboot.Mystubbornnesshowevergetsworndownwiththe
resultsandinthecomingdays,Iwillswitchtodrinkingcocaasatea,muchmore
pleasanttastingandjustaseffective.Iamapparentlyhighlysensitivetoaltitude.
Luckyme.
Islumpdownontopofmybagasthegroupistransferredintothecareofthehotel.
IamstruckbyhowEuropeanthecityappearswithitsstreetslinedwithmajestic
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cathedrals,plazaswithelegantfountains,andarchedstoneporticosattachedto
buildingscrowdedtogetherwithredtileroofs.AlltheresultsoftheSpanish
invasion.Yetpopulatingthestreetsarethenativewomen,theirdressesawoven
riotofcolorandpatterns,alwayshaulingatleastonetoddlerandabundleofwares
forthemarketsthatlinetheplazas.Thereisastarkcontrastbetweentherichand
thepoor,theEuropeaninfluenceandtheindigenous.
Wearebeingherdedintothehotelandforthethousandthtimeinthelast24hours
sincewearrivedinLimaandmadeourwayhere,we’rebeingtoldtomindour
belongings,payattention,wearen’tintheUSanymore.Ilagbehind,mywooziness
slowingmedown,andYesDoc,whosegroupIhavebeenassignto,bellowsformeto
STAYWITHTHEGROUP.Youdon’tknowwhatpeopleherewilldoorhow
desperatetheyare.PrivatelyIfeelthatalltheseadmonitionsareabitoverthetop.I
understandtheneedforMio(andthereforehisteachers)astouroperatortokeep
thegroupsafeandtogether,butaren’ttheygoingabitoverboard?It’snotlikeI’ve
neverbeenoutsideoftheUS.Andthistripissupposedtobeaboutfindingour
freedomnotbeingprisonersofthegroup’srulesandwardens.
Still,Istepitupasthehotel’sformidable,twostorytallwoodenfortress-likedoors
swingshutwithaloudthudbehindme.Thehotelseemsintentonkeepingtheriffraffoutwithitsguardedentrance,that’sforsure.Ishiverslightly–whetherfrom
theslamming,thechillinthedarkhallways,orperhapsapremonition.Ifonlytheall
torealwarningshadbeenheeded…perhapssomeofthesinistereventstocome
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couldhavebeenavoided.Butfornow,Inaivelyfollowthegroupintothedining
roomwhereweeatoneofmanyuninspiringmealsonourroute,thenmakemyway
tomyroomwhereImakeahastyaltarwithmyapprenticestick(whichIdon’tleave
homewithout)andapreciousstoneortwofromMazi,thenpromptlypassout,
oblivioustowhatistocome.
DayTwoandwe’rewindingalongtheUrubambaRivertowardOllantaytambo.
Ollantaytambo.Ollyantambo.IfallinlovewiththenameasIchantitquietlyunder
mybreath,engravingitintomymemory.We’vealreadyvisitedPisac,anotherIncan
ruininthesamevalleyandnowaremovingontoOllantayambo.Ollantayambo!I
don’tknowwhymyheartskipsabeatinanticipation.
OurPeruviantourguideisdroningonoverthebus’loudspeakersystem,butfew
Ewoksarepayingattention.Noneofusareveryinterestedinthehistoricaldatesor
significantbattles.Weareenergyhounds.Whileawareandsensitivetoourgroup’s
inclinations,theguidecan’thelpbuttrytoeducateusonancientPeruvianhistory.
Stillhisvoiceissoothingaswewindourwaysupsteepmountainsideswithhairpin
turnsthattriggerwispsofsorochebackintomybelly.Weentertownandthetour
busmakesseeminglyimpossibleturnsontight,narrowstreets.Theancient
buildingsinthevillagefightwiththemodernturnradiusoftourbusesasthestone
wallsedgerightuptothestreetcorners.Theentirebusbreaksoutincheersasthe
drivermanagestheturns.Thedriverisamiracle.
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Finallywearriveatthesacredsite.TheEwoksspringtolife,anxioustobeoffthe
busandintheenergy.Afewminutesofchaosensuesaswehoistonbackpacksand
affixhats.Whenmyfeethittheground,Icranemyneckupwardtotakeinthe
terracesofrockthatsnaketheirwayupthemountain.TheIncasweremastersof
stone–whetherfittingcountlesssmallerstonestogethertomakeenormouswalls
andterracesorliftingupmonolithicrocksthatweighedtonstoformimpressive
backdrops.Here,atOllantaytambo,theIncasshowofftheirmasteryofboth.
Wepolitelyhumorthetourguideasheguidesusthroughtheruins.It’slate
afternoonandtherearestillanumberoftouristshere.WhetherinMexico,Peruor
Egypt,Miohasmasteredarrivingatsitesearlyinthemorningorlateinthe
afternoonwhenthetouristsaresparseandguardsaremoreeasilybribedsowecan
doourceremonieswithlessinterruption.Heleadsuspastfountainsthatstill
function,throughtheSunTempleandWaterTemple.Weogleappropriatelyatthe
SixMonoliths,each14feethighandimpeccablyfittedtogether.Asthesproutsout
facts,mostofusfindaspottositorleanupagainstawall,closeoureyes,andsink
intotheenergyofthisplace.
Theenergyissaidtobestoredinthestonesofsacredancientsitesandthisistrue
hereaswell.Over4meters..in1536…theguide’sinfoisrecedingintothe
backgroundastheenergycomesonline,eagertomeetthisgroupwhoismore
interestedincallingitforth.Alowthrumvibrateswithinthewallsoslightand
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throatydeepthatyou’dmissitwithouttheutmostattention.Itunemyinternalears
intoitsvibration.
FaintechosofachantinQuechua,thenativepeople’slanguage.Thebeatofa
ceremonialdrum?OrmaybetheheartbeatoftheEarth?Theblastofahaunting
conchshellcallingforaritualtocommence.Silentknowledge.Yes,adeepknowing
thatextendsbeyondtheracesorpeopleswhofoughtoverthisland,beyondthe
centuriesofharvests,beyondrecordedtimeitself.Therocksholdanancient
wisdom,connectedtoanerawhenPachamamareigned,theEarthgoddessofthe
MotherWorld,whoprovidedforourneedswhenlifewasinsyncwiththeland.
Thrum.Hum.Hummmm.
Thegroupsinksdeeperanddeeperintoattunement,untilthesettingsunandguide
giveupfortheday.WithanodfromMio,Ewokeyesspringopenandwemakeour
waytothefarendoftheruins,whichnestleupintothecraggyhillside.Miodraws
uscloseinacircleandinvitesustosettleinsowereleasetheweightofour
backpackstotheground.Mioisabouttoexplainthetruemeaningofwhatweare
experiencingandseeinghere–aninterpretationthatgoesbeyondwhatthe
scientistsandhistoriansmightdeduce.Hetranslatestheenergyasmuchasthe
surroundings.
Afteralongsilence,pregnantwithanticipation,Miospeaks.“Imagineatimewhen
scienceasweknowitdidnotexist.Inthistime,youlivedintunewiththeland,with
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yoursurroundings.Theplantsspoketoyouandrevealedtheirhealingproperties.
Thelandspoketoyouandyoulistenedtohowtocareforit.Inreturnitgracedyou
withfoodforyourfamilyandvillage.Thesuntransmitteditsmessagesonthelight.
Thelight…”Miogestureswithhishandandthefadingraysofthesunappearto
shinemomentarilyalittlemorebrightly.Hecontinues,“Thistimewasnotwithout
itshardships,butyouwereequippedtonavigatetheworldthroughyoursensesand
perceptions.”
Inmymind’seye,theworldthatMioisdescribingtousopensbeforeme.Myblood
startstoflowinaslightlydifferentrhythm,ebbingandflowingwithhiswords,in
harmonywiththisslowertime.
“Youreverealllifesoyouworshipthesun,themoon,thetrees,theearth,the
mountains,thethunder,thelightning,thefire,therain,thesea…Eachoftheseliving
entitiesisagodinyourworld.Eachbroughtyouwhatyouneededtosurviveandfor
thisyouweregrateful.Youwerepartofthecreationbythecreatorofalllife.”
AnothervoiceoverridesMio’s.Donotdismissthegods.Theyarenotwhatyouthink.
Mymodernmindhasresidueprejudicesagainsttheideaofmanygods.Primitive.
No.Thisisnotaprimitivewayofseeingtheway.Thisisthebestwaytheycould
describewhattheywereseeing.It’showtheyexplainedtheirworld,justasyouuse
yoursillyideasofphysicsandatomsandsupernovastoexplainyours.
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Yes,Isee.Atanygiventimeinthehistoryoftheworld,wehavebutasmallsliverof
understandingoftheallthatis.Wedoourbesttoexplainourselves,butwecan
neverputitallintowordsandthereisalwaysmorethatsupplementswhatwethink
weknow.
Withthisrealization,the“primitive”godsspringtolifebeforeme.Oneafteranother
risesinamiasmaofenergy.Fragmentsoffaces.Tendrilsashair.Jaggedpiecesof
colorfulshardsofimages.Water.Earth.Air.Fire.Amistcurlsaroundourgroup–
fromanancienttimesummonedbyMio?Orsimplyafogrollinginatday’send?
“TheIncawhowalkedthislandwhereintunewiththesegods.Therewasno
separationbetweengod,self,land.Therewasnoneedtosearchforspirit.Spiritwas
inherentinlifeitself.”
IpickupMio’ssub-text.Allofusonthistriparespiritualseekers.Manyofushave
madethisourlife’sobsession.Miosearchesforwaysoverandoveragaintoremind
usthatthisisnothingtoseek.Itiswithin.Accessible.Wehaveforgotten,butour
divinityishere,always,now.
“Look,”Miopointstoaprofileonthesideofthemountain.“AnIncanwitha
headdress.”
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Foramoment,Icannotorientmyeyestoseethenaturalcarving.Irelaxmy
strainingandasIdoitcomesintofocus.“Usehiseyes.Seehowheseesthisland.
Thisplace,Ollyantambo,meansthe‘placetoseedown.’Itwasawatchtower.Use
youreyestowatch,toseehowlifereallyisthroughtheeyesofthecreator.”
Mybrainwantstocommandmyeyestolook,tosee,butI’vebeenaroundMiolong
enoughtoknowthatheisreferringtoseeingnotwiththeeyes,butasaseer,one
whoseestheworldasitiswithoutdistortionoftheirownbeliefs.Itissomeonewho
understandstheworkingofgod,akalifeforceitself.Iwrestlewithmyselfforafew
minutes.Thefightbetweenwantingtosee,tryingtosee,andrelaxingintoaseeing
statethatstillrequiresfocusisonethatIamstilllearningtomaster.
Eventually,IdescendintoaformlessplacewhereIamnotme,amnotseparatefrom
lifeflowingthroughtherocks(slowlysolid),thetrees(reachingupanddown,
dancingwiththebreeze),thewind(fineparticlesmovingofmyownvolition).Iam
sheerbeauty.Unfathomableperfection.Syncopatedmotion.Freetotransformfrom
onestatetoanother.
IpopintothebodyofanIncanwhoiscreepingthroughaforestedmountainside.
Thewoodsaroundmeareablur.Treesarenotdistinctfromferns.Ananimalmoves
throughtheunderbrushbutitappearsasastreakofenergy.Birdsongthatfillsthe
airmovesincondensedpacketsofsoundthatcanbetouched,felt,andheard.Fora
second,Iwithdraw,fightingagainstwhatmymodernmindmightattributetopoor
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eyesightordruginducedvisions,untilfeelMio’swordstouchingbetweenmy
shoulderblades,relaxingmeenoughtoslipbackintomyIncanself.Istrugglenotto
holdmybreathagainstlosingthisconnectiontolifeallaroundme.Ihavejumped
beforeintoperceivingtheworldinthiswayforonlybriefseconds.Mymindreelsas
ittriestohangontoexperiencinglifethisway,always.Imagineifthiswasmy
everydayperception!
Atthisseparatistthought,Ilosefocusandamsittingbackinmyownbodywith
Ewoksallaround.Iamgazinginthemiddledistance,tryingtoabsorbwhatIhave
justseenandnotjudgingmyselfforhowlongIcouldsustainmyfocus.Miomoves
intomylineofvisionandpointsupwardagain.Ifollowthedirectionofhisintent,
morethantrackingwherehisfingerispointing,andmyeyeslandonanotherprofile
onthesideofthemountain.
“Thecondor.Messengertothesun.”
Iamnotclearifthesewordshavebeenspokenoutloudorsimplybetweenus.No
matter,Iamoff,streakingthroughthesky,anarrowhurtlingwitheveryparticleof
itsbeingresolvedonmergingwiththesun.Mydesirefuseswiththeheat.Sointense
andyetnothingcandistractmefrommypurpose.
“Thisisyourintegrity,”theMiovoiceisspeakingtomefromwithin.“Nothingcan
stopyourintegrityfromshiningthrough.It’stimetostopresisting.”Mio’sfinger,
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whichhadbeenpointingtowardthecondoracrossthecircleofEwoksissomehow
alsopressingintothebackofmyheart.
Iletgo.
Mybodyslumpstotheground,landingawkwardlyonmybackpack.
“Whatdoyoumostdesire…”Mio’swordsarebeingcarriedonawindthatisstirring,
blowingthroughthecanyonaroundus.
Icannotformulateacoherentresponse.
Allthatmatterstomeisone.Iamone.One.Oneness.Whole.
Iamtheperceiver.Thecreator.Theconsciousness.Beyondmymind.Beyondmy
body.BeyondwhatIfeel.AndyetIhavenotabandonedmyselfinthisactofpower.
Fullyhereandpresentandthereandeverywhere.One.
“Ah-haaaaaa.Ahhhhh.”SomeversionofMiohoversnearme.“Yes.”
AsIexpand,merge,melt,thewallsofthemountainencirclemesothatIamina
deep,narrowravine.Asunfireburnsbrightlyinthecenter,castingitsgolden,
flickeringglowontheclifffacesaroundme.TheEwoksaregonebuttheirshadows
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aredancingincelebration,castlargerthanlifeoftherockwalls.Me…myspirit…a
swirloflife…rejoices.Ileap.Idoajigindelightatthisfreedom.IfIhadarms,I’d
throwthemupintotheair.IdoandIdon’t.Sofreeeeeee!
Ohlook!Iseemyselfsprawledontheground.Mybody.Whatabeautifulvehicleto
movethroughthislife.Iamsolucky!Sograteful!Ihaveabody!
WhileIamjoyoustobesobig,soexpanded,sofree,Ialsocravethesensationsthat
areonlypossiblewithearsandeyesandnoseandtongueandtoes.NowIseewhy
spiritchoosestoincarnateaslifeinabody.Whatfun!
Idanceandplay,awareofMioasproudpapa,enjoyingmydelightvicariously.Ikeep
oneethericeyeonmyinertformbelow.
Thefigureonthegroundhardlybreathes.Once.Awaitlongerthanhumanly
possible.Again.Justenoughtosustainit.
Purejoy.Bliss.
Snap.
Isitupwithagasp,suckinginafistfulofoxygen,beforesinkingbackintothe
groundandlettingmybreathresumeanormal,comfortablepace.Iamutterlycalm
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andatpeace,fullypresentandbackinmyhumanbody.Ipokearoundanddiscover
alliswell.Ismileslightly.Iaminnowaydisappointedtobeback.Thenagain,I
wasn’treallygone.Itissimplyanotherpointofview.Anotherwayofperceivingthis
gloriouslife.Hmmmmmmm.Wordsaresofunny.
Mybody’sthirstrousesmeenoughtorootaroundinmybackpackforabottleoflife
sustainingagua.Myhandscramblesamongtheextralayerofclothing,thebottleof
sunscreen,passingoverthebagoftrailmix.Igotopushmyapprenticestickaside,
thewatermustbeatthebottleofthebag,whenIpause.Thestickfeelsdifferentat
itscore,itsessence.Myfingerscreepalongthelengthofthestick.Coulditbe?
Isituptopullthestickfreefrommypack.Ican’tbelieveit.Mystickhasbroken.My
stickisbroken?Mystickisbroken!!Iholditupasitflopslimplyintwopieces,the
redclothjustbarelyholdingitsform.
Ifoundmyintegrity.Iamfree.Iamofficiallynolongeranapprentice.
MyfirstthoughtjumpstoTita.Ican’twaittotellher!Butthatwillhavetowaituntil
wereturntotheStates.Inside,Iletoutasilentwhoop.Ican’tbelieveithappenedso
soon.AndonourfirstdayintheruinsinPeru!AswellofpridethatIgivemyself
permissiontofeelwithoutjudgmentsurgesthroughme.Thisisamomentousdayin
myspirituallife.
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Iwanttotelltheworld–atleastmyEwokworldwhowouldunderstand.I’mready
todoarealjigwiththeseprecioushandsandfeet.IlookupandseethatMioisstill
staringatmeintently.Iwavemyfloppystickathimwithahugesmile.I’mwavingin
surrenderandinjoy.
Miocomesover,hisdarkeyesshining,andembracesmeinabigbearhug.“Iknew
youcoulddoitsweetheart.Youarefree.Youdon’tneedthatanymore.”
Andwiththosewords,Iflingmystickintothevoid.Itakeadeepbreath,inhalingmy
newfoundfreedomandpower.Arealwhoopburstsfrommymouthandsuddenly
thereareEwokseverywhere,poundingmeonthebackincongratulationsand
dancingincelebration.Wefeellargerthanlife.Webowtotherockwalls,tothe
Incanwarrior,tothecondor,toeachother.Westarthowlingatthemoon,lettingthe
messageoflifeflowthroughourbodies.Auwww,Aooowww,Aooww.Freeto
worshipthegods,withinandaroundus,todayandlockedinthepassageoftime.
LockedinWithLlamas
“Howcanyoubesocareless?Whatdidn’tyouunderstandaboutnotlettingany
waterintoanypartofyourbody?Idistinctlysaidshowersonly.Ieventoldyouto
keepyourmouthclosedwhenyoudoshower!!(longsputteringpause)Youare
beingselfish.Ifyougetsickhere,therearenohospitalsnearbyandsomeonefrom
thegroupwillhavetotakecareofyou.Youactionsimpacttheentiregroup!”
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YesDocisdressingdownoneoftheotherparticipantsinourgroup,wholooks
utterlymiserable.Therestofthegroupiscoweringaswellfromtheheatofher
wrath.Sufferingfromaboutofmonthlycramps,Jadehadoptedtotakeabathtotry
torelieveherdiscomfort.WhenYesDocoverheardJadetellingmehowmuchbetter
shefeltaftertakingabath,YesDocwasalloverhercase.
YesDocisusuallysweetascanbe,butshedoesdemandthateveryonefollowthe
rules–toatee.Andshe’sastickleraboutmedicalsafetywhiletravellinginforeign
countries.Ifsomeonegetsill,she’stheonewhousuallyislefttofigureouthowto
carefortheminlessthanidealsituations.
Jade,however,isn’tmakingtheconnectionforwhyshe’sgettingreamedoutfor
takingabath.“But….Iwasjusttakingabath.Whywouldtakingabathbeaprobl…”
YesDoccutsheroff.“Doyoureallyneedananatomylesson?Youareawoman.
Womenhaveyonis,whichisanopeninginyourbody.Ifyouaresittinginabathtub
fullofPeruvianwater,thenthiswaterismostcertainlygettinginsideofyou!”
IcanseetearsareforminginJade’seyes.Noonehasfeltphysicallywellonthistrip
andYesDochasbeentheonethateveryonecallsonforhelp.Jadewastryingtotake
careofherselfwithoutthinkingthroughthefullimplications.Tohercredit,Ican’t
sayIwouldhaveconnectedthedotsonthisoneeither.Waterinyouryonicanmake
yousick?ButIamusedtodoingwhatYesDocandMio’sotherleaderssayonthese
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trips.Perhapsit’sGoodGirlcominginhandyorsimplycommonsense–they’ve
beenherebefore,seenitallandknowwhattheyaredoing.
BeforeYesDoccancompletelyshredJadetobits,sheiscalledawaytotendto
anotherfallencomradesoshedirectsourgrouptogomeettherestoftheEwoksin
frontofthehotel.WeareinAguaCalientes,thesmallspeckofatownatthebaseof
MachuPicchu.Apparentlythereisonlyoneroutetothetop,onatouristbuswithan
unpredictablescheduleandlimitedseatingthatwindsupthetreacherousslopesto
theancientcity.IntypicalSouthernAmericanstylebureaucracy,thereisconflicting
informationaboutthebestwaytoadmitalargegrouptothesacredgrounds.
Finally,it’sdeterminedthatonesetofticketsmustbeboughtforthebusrideup,
anothersetofticketstobepurchasedtoentertheruins,thenmoreticketstocome
backdown.Itwillbeapreciselogisticaloperationtomoveourentiregroupupthe
mountain.
WhileWillowandthetourguidearecoordinatingourtroop’slogisticalmovements,
LaDonaisorganizingthegroupleadersfortheday.LaDonamotionsformetocome
joinagroupofteachersandoneortwootherapprentices.LaDonaannouncesthatit
hasbeendecidedthatitwillbeeasiertodivideeachmainteacher’sgroupinto
smallerpods.ThatwaywecanmovethroughMachuPicchumoreeasily–large
spiritualgroupsareoftenfrownedupon–anditwillbeeasierforeachgroupleader
tokeeptrackofthefewerparticipants.
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Asshe’sspeaking,itdawnsonmethatshe’sselectedmetobeoneofthemini-group
leaders.It’sahonor–andaresponsibility–tobechosentolead.Idomybestto
maintainacool,calm,composedlookonmyface,noddingsolemnlyather
instructions,butinsideIambeaming.I’veassistedTitabackinL.A.hereandthere,
butmostlywithlogisticslikeregistrationorset-up,notworkingwithpeople
energetically.Well,noworries,itsoundslikeIjusthavetokeeptrackofthe5people
assignedtomeandreturnthemsafelybacktothehoteltonight.
AsLaDonaissuesourmarchingordersandItunebackinfully,Irealizethatshe’s
givingtheteachersthegameplanforthedayandit’snotjustaboutlogistics.Today,
wearetolookatthepiecesofourselvesthatdonotbelievewearedivinity
embodied.Eachofuscarrieswoundsfromourchildhoodthatcreatedcorebeliefs
suchas“I’mnotloveable…I’mnotperfect…I’mnotgoodenough…”Untilweheal
thesewounds,wecannotfullyembraceourdivinenaturewithin.Itisuptoeach
mini-groupleadertodecidewherewewanttotakeourgroupwithintheruinsand
howwewillmoveourparticipantsthroughthisprocess.
InsideI’mprotesting.I’mnotateacher!Where’sYesDoc?WasIchosenbecause
she’sonsickdetail?OrdoesLaDonathinkIcanreallydothis?Maybebecausemy
stickbrokeandshe’sthrowingmeinthedeepend?I’veneverbeeninchargeofreal,
livepeoplewithreal,liveissuesbefore.Issheawareofthis?Also,let’sbeclear,this
ismyfirsttimeinPeru.Ihaven’tevenbeentoMachuPicchumyselfbefore!Hello?!?
HowwillIknowwheretogo,whattodo?
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MyheartisnowpoundingsohardandloudthatI’dswearLaDonacanhearit,smell
myfear,andinstantlydismissmeasnotworthy.Whichquitefranklywouldbea
relief.
Ihavebeenaroundlongenoughtoknowthatsomeseriousshitcangodownon
thesepowerjourneys.Whenashamanactivatestheenergy,anyunsettled,
unresolvedinternalbaggagestartsflying.Anythingispossible.Andwhenyou’reina
placeofpower,thisjustamplifiesthepossibilitiesofwhatgetsstirredupmentally,
physically,emotionally,psychically,byamilliongazillion.
IlookovermyshoulderatthepeopleLaDona’snamedformygroup.Whatlurks
belowthesurfaceoftheirconsciousness?Perfectlynormal,happy-lookingpeople
canhavesomeprettydarkpastsanddeepwounds.Istartpraying–toGod,tothe
IncanGods,toanyavailableentities–pleaseletmebeabletohandlethis.
“Youareresponsibleforeachandeverypersoninyourgroup.Donotleaveanyone
behind.Anddonotcomebackuntileachandeverypersoninyourgrouphas
completedtheirprocess.”LaDonathrowsoffoneofherpenetratingstares,
accompaniedbysomefingerjabbingforemphasis.“Understood?”Iknowthatthis
isnottrulyaquestion.Mybellyhasjustdroppedtosealevel.“Good.Seeyoutonight
forclass.Go!”Andwithaclapofherhandsandadismissivewave,shesendsusoff
tocollectourfollowers.
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IgivemyselfapeptalkasIwalktowardsmywards.“Youcandothis.Youcando
this.You’llfigureitoutonestepatatime.Tita,Icallonyoutobeherewithme
today.IfIhadaphonehandy,I’dcallthatwaytoo.Eitherway,hopeyougetthisplea
forhelp.Please,please….”
IdoubtthatIlookmoreconfidentthanIfeelasIushermygrouptogogetourbus
tickets.Weareonalaterbus,soIremindthemthatwewillbeinMachuPicchuall
day,makesurethey’vebroughtproperprovisions.Sinceit’softenwetandrainyon
MachuPicchuinthisseason,Irecommendthateveryonebringaraincoatorgraba
ponchofromthehotel’sgiftshopbeforewego.Thegroupscatterstofullyprepare
themselvesasIbraceup.Wereconvene.Ready?I’mnot,butheregoes.
Ourbuschugsupthehillthroughlushrainforest.Onceagainwearemakinghairpin
turns,zip-zaggingourwayupanimprobablysteepmountainside.Atthetopweare
greetedbyatouristyhotel,theonlyoneuphere,andWillowwhoisdistributing
ticketstothegroupsastheyarrive.Shepointsusinthedirectionoftheentrance
booth,fromthereI’monmyown.
Wetakeabouttwostepsandthenstopandstare.Weareliterallyontopofthe
world,surroundedbyastunningbackdropofruggedmountains.It’sbreath-taking
asinwedon’tstoptotakeabreathandadmirewhatwesee,butratherthescene
literallystealsourbreathaway.Ourmindsslowlyregisterwhatweareseeing.
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Clouds.Green.Mountains.Stones.Moreclouds.Eye-levelwiththeclouds.
Wearewalkingamongclouds.Inanancientcity.Awonderoftheworld.Wow.How
didtheIncanslive,letalonebuildanentirecityuphere?
It’smagic.
Wetakeafewtentativestepstowardtheentranceboothandtickettakers.It’s
disconcertingtobesohighup,withthemountainsidefallingsosharplyaway.With
acurtnodfromtheguard,weenterthe“LostCityoftheIncans”sonamedbecauseit
wasundiscoveredbytheSpanishconquistadors.Iknownothingaboutthecity’s
layout,soItakealeapoffaithandtuneintomyinternalGPS.
Whichwaytogo?Thecityisquitelarge.Iscanthemultitudeofstonestructures,
tryingtodiscernitslayout.Thecityappearstobelongandnarrow,fallingdownthe
hillside.HuanyaPicchu,apointypeakofamountain,risesupatthetipbythefar
endofthecity.Thatisasgoodadirectionasany,sowemakeourwaypastthe
steppedcultivatedterracesandenterintothecityofstones.Ifindmyselfinthe
SacredDistrictwiththecurvedTempleoftheSun,theritualfountains,andthe
RoyalPalaces.Wewanderpastandthrough.I’mnotclearwherewearegoingyetor
whatwearegoingtodosofornow,wearetakinginthesights.Wecomeintothe
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MainSquareandIamstruckbythemajestyoftheonelonetreethatgrowsinthe
ancientcourtyard.
TheTreeofLife.Ihear.Ifeelmyselfexhale.Okay.I’mtappingin.Idon’tneedto
knowtoknow.Letlifeguideme.
Weveertowardsthetreeandspotagroupofllamas,whoareasregalasanylama,
grazingnearby.It’ssurrealtobeinanancient,sacredspotwiththesenoble
creatures.Oneofthellamasraisesitsheadandappearstoappraiseourgroup.His
enormouseyelooksdirectlyintomine.Canthisllamareallybelookingintomy
soul?Iswearhenodshisheadinapproval,thenturnsinawaythatindicates“follow
me.”Severalmembersoftheherdfollowhimashepickshiswaydowntoalower
terrace.Whynot?It’snotasifIhaveabetterplan.Wefollowaswell.
Ourguidellamaleadsustoaperfect,privatespotwithafewstonewallsthatare
half-finishedorhalf-disintegrated,I’mnotsurewhich.Butthisplacefeelsright.We
cansetupcampandtuckintothehillsiderelativelyunobserved.GuideLlamalooks
atmeonemoretime,nodsagain,snortsatitspackandtheyturntoheadbackfrom
wheretheycamefrom.IsilentlythankGuideLlamaandamgratefultheydidn’tstick
around.Wildanimalsincloseproximitymakemeabitnervous,evenifthispack
seemedtobewiseandhelpful.Still,theirhelpmightbeallinmyhead.Iturnmy
attentiontomyhumancompanions.
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Thegroundisdampsowepoolourponchosandlaytwoonthegroundinbetween
twowallsthatarejustfarenoughapartforthesixofustositinacircle.Theairis
thickwithmoisture,there’sagoodchanceofrain,soweaddanotherfewponchos
overheadandsecuresomewithrocksandothersbytuckingthemunderourhineys.
We’vemadeatinymakeshiftkiva,cozyandtight.Wearereadytogetdownand
dirty.NowifIjustknewwheretobegin.
IfIhadanickelforeverytimeIheardanEwoksay,“Nowcloseyoureyes…”I’dbea
millionaire.It’soh-so-effectivewhenyoudon’tknowhowtobegin,sogoon,close
youreyesfolks,whileIscroungearoundinmybackpocketforadirectiontogo.
Inward,yes.Butthenwhat?Ihearmyselftellingmypodtodropintotheenergyof
thisplace.Goodadvice,butmymindishavingamini-freakout.I’mmakingmy
teachingdebutinMachuPicchu?Areyouf’inkiddingme?I’mfromPittsburgh,for
God’ssake.WhatamIdoingontopofamountaininPeru,inchargeofguidingthese
peepstoGod?
Calmdown,myinnervoicechides.You’reherenow.Getittogether.
“Okay,fine,”Iretort.“ButI’mnotfindingthistobefunny.”
Notevenalittlebit?
“Okay,fine.Itis….”
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Shhhh…
Iwillmyselftogetquietandcheckinwiththisplace.Ah,yes,thereitis.That
connection.Tomyself.Totheenergy.Totheseamazinglybravesouls,myself
included,whohavesignedupforthiswildride.
Wesitandsettle,hearthepitter-patterofrainonourmakeshiftcanopy.Theheatof
ourbodiesandourbreathisturningthistentintoasweatlodge.Andthat’swhenit
comestome:weareheretopurify.We’lltrackdownofdeepestwoundandhealit.
Nottoomuchtotackleinoneday,right?
I’mnotupfortakingonprocessingthewomeninfrontofmeasagroup,butI’m
fairlycertainIcanstealsomeofTita’stechniquesandprocessthemone-by-one,
muchinthesamewayshe’sbeenworkingwithmeprivately.“Pleaseletthemgofor
it,”Ipray.I’llholdtheenergyforeachtotraveldownmemorylane,buttheyhaveto
bewillingandopentogo.Andtotrustmeintakingthemthere.Heregoes.
Forthenextfewhours,Iprocessthewomenone-by-one.Theyarebeautifuland
courageousandheart-feltintheirhonestyandvulnerability.Theysharetheir
storiesandtheirtearsandpainoveraparent’sunkindwordthatcrushedtheir
soul’spassion,aboyfriendwhobroughtoutalltheirinsecurities,afamilyfeudthat
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hadlastedgenerationsandwasstillimpactingtheirlives,guiltoverhowtheywere
raisingtheirchildren.
Aseachwomanspoke,allofuscouldrelatewhetherornotwehadexperiencedthe
samesituationinourownlives.We’veallfeltsmall.Guilty.Stupid.Angry.
Unappreciated.Tornintwodirections.Weallhadfeltamillionemotionsthatwe
triedtohide,orletpouringouttodisastrousresults.Everyoneofushadtrampled
overwhatwereallywantedtosayordoforanother.Wehadignoredwhatweknew
inourheartofhearts.Wesquashedourlight.Webelievedweweren’tbrilliant.
Ourtinyteepeeturnedintoamicrocosmofallthewomen,withallourfears,hopes,
dreams,andhurtsthatexistsineverycorneroftheworld.Welaughed.Wecried.
Weofferedeachothershirtsleevestodrythetearsandthesnot.Wepassedaround
trailmixtokeepusgoing.Itwasamazing,andanhonor,tocreateasmall
communityofloveandunderstandinginamostunlikelyplacetobespendinganotso-averageweekdayafternoon.
Hoursflybyandthere’sstillonemorewomantogo.She’sbeenthemostquietand
withdrawnthroughouttheday.Icanfeelherreluctancetogowheresheneedsto-
andI’malittlenervoustogotherewithher.ButLaDona’svoiceisstillringinginmy
ears,“Don’tleaveanyonebehind.Don’tcomebackuntileveryonehascompleted
theirprocess.”ThereisnowayI’mgoingtodefyLaDona.Butwhattimeisit
anyway?Ihavenoideaandnoonehasawatch.Andit’sgettingstuffyinsideourtent
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soIdecideit’sagoodtimetotakeabreather.Wecreateacrackbetweentwo
ponchosandthepent-upenergywithinreleaseswithawhoosh.Ah,that’sbetter.
AsIlookout,ourworldisamurkyhaze.It’sstilldrizzling–thankGodforour
ponchossowearewarmanddry–andtheskyisanindeterminategray.Nooneis
reallyupforgoingoutinthewetorbreakingthecozyspacewe’vecreatedtogether
butfresh,cleansingairsurefeelsgood.Iknowwe’vebeeninhereforagoodwhile,
butsincewe’vebeenabitlostinourowninnerworld,Idon’tknowifit’stimetogo
backtocatchthebusorifwestillhavehourstogo.Thelackofsunisnohelp.
AsIamtryingtocalculatethebestplan,asmallvoicecomesfrominsidethetent,
“I’mreadynow.”SoIannadoesspeak.Thatdecidesit.Iclosethecrackandhopeit’s
mid-afternoon,promptlyforgetthatthought,andthendivewebackin.
Astheflapoftheponchofallsbackintoplace,thereissomeuncomfortableshifting
aroundthetent.Ithinkwecanallsensethatwe’regoingtogodeep.Everyonefalls
intoaskittishsilence,waitingforIannatogatherhercouragetostart.Afteralong
while,shedoes.
“Idon’tknowwhat’swrongwithme.I’vespentmeentireadultlifetryingtofigureit
out.I’vegonetotherapists,doneworkshops,donedrugs,butIjustdon’tknow….”
Iannatrailsoff.Herpainispalpableandtearsarestreakingdownherface.“Iwant
tofeelbetter,tonotbeinemotionalpainallthetime,butIdon’tknowhow.Noone
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seemstounderstand.Noonehasbeenabletohelpme.MaybeIneverwillgethelp
orfigureitout.Idon’trememberalotofmychildhoodsoI’mnotsureIcandowhat
eachofyouhavedonetoday.”
Along,shakysigh.I’mnotsureifit’sfrommeorfromher.
“Ianna.Youaresobrave,sobravetoevenhavevoicedasmuchasyoudid.Right
now,wearehere.Youhaveachoice.Doyouwanttotry?There’snothingwrong
withsayingno.ButIthinkyoualsohaveabigopportunityifyousayyes,”myeyes
narrowwiththeintentofanagual.
Icanhardlybelievethateverycellofmybeingisrootingforhertosayyesandgo
forit.AndI’mgoingtohavetotakeherin?Me?Aftertoday’sgroupandthe
closenessthatwe’vefosteredinthistent,IthinkIcandoit.Everyonehereis
cheeringforIannaandcanemphasizewithherache.Weallwanthertosucceedand
heal.
“Idon’tknow.Ijustdon’tknow,”Iannaisclearlyinmisery.
“Okay.Youdon’thavetoknow.Whydon’twestartandifanytime,youwanttostop,
justletmeknow.Okay?”
Iholdmybreathassheconsidersmyproposal.Finally,shenodsherassent.
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“Okay.Good,”Iturntothegroup.“Howaboutweallholdthespacetogetherfor
Ianna?Yourjobistokeepbreathing,keepyourheartsopen,keeptheloveflowing.”I
lookaroundandeveryonenods.“Ifyouarefeelingemotion,thenletitmovethrough
you.Downintotheground.WeareonsacredgroundwhereMotherEarthisstrong.
Shecantakethisenergyandtransformit.She’sheretoworkwithus.”
Lookatmego.
“Ianna,let’sstartbybreathing.Justbreathing,downintoyourbelly.”Iannatakes
short,shakybreaths.“That’sastart,butIwantyoutoreallybreathealltheway
down,intotheground.Putyourhandsonyourwomb.Thereyougo.That’sit.”
Iannaadjustshowshe’ssittingandIseeherbodyrelax.Iclosemyeyesandfeela
tightnessinbetweenmyeyebrows.Myvisionisclearandstrong.Thenagualenergy
risesinme.
“Iwantyoutoimaginegoingdownastaircase,down,down,down,thesesteps.At
thebottomofthestaircase,youarriveatyourmostfavorite,safeplace.Canyousee
it?”
Iannanods.
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“NowIwantyoutoinviteTheWiseOneintoyoursafespace.Thisisthewisest
versionofyouthatyoucanimagine.Sostrongandassured.Abletoseeclearly.
Maybeit’syouatanolderageorananimalversionofyourself.Canyouseeher?”
“Yes,”Iannareplies.
“Good.NowaskyourWiseOneifshewillgoonajourneywithyouthroughtime.
Askhertoshowyouallthetimesthatyou’vecarriedthisfeelingoflonely
helplessnesswithyou.Letherbeyourwitness.She’llbeyourobserver,lettingyou
seeyourlifefromanotherpointofview.Letherknowyourfears.Letherknowyour
willingnesstotry.Isshewillingtoworkwithyoutoday?”
Iannapauses.Icansensethat’sshe’sinaconversationwithherWiseOne.Aftera
fewminutes,Iannasays,“Okay.”
“Okay.Let’sstartwiththesituationsfromyourmostrecentpast.Theonesthatyou
canremember.Askhertobringyoutoeachsituation.Justobserveit.Breathe.You
don’tneedtore-liveit,justbewillingtoseewhatwashappeningfromanopen,
lovingpointofview.Youarebrave.Youarebraveenoughtolookandsee.”
Iannarecountssomerecentexperiencesthatleftherfeelingpowerless-her
interactionswithuntrustworthymen,disappointmentswithaboss,anfallingout
withagirlfriend.Witheachincidentspokenaloud,shefeelsbolderandmore
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confident.Thetearsarestillstreamingdownherface,butshehangsinthere.She
makesherwayfartherandfartherintoherpast.
Thenshehitsawall.Herbreathinggetsshallow.
“Tellmewhatyouareseeing,”Iinvite.
“There’sawallinfrontofme.Ithasbarbedwireand“DoNotEnter!”signspostedall
overit.It’sdarkandscary.Idon’tlikeit.MaybeIshouldstop.”
“Youcanstopifyou’dlike,”Ireassureher.“Butmaybethereissomethingherefor
youtolookat.IsyourWiseOnestillwithyou?”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
“Whydon’tyousitdownnearthewallandjustbewiththewall?WiseOneisthere.
Youdon’tneedtorunawayfromitortrytogoanyfarther.You’vealreadymadeso
muchprogress.Let’sjustacknowledgehowmuchyou’vedoneandhowfaryou’ve
come.”
Iannaissilent.AmIlosingher?“Everyoneelse,makesureyouarebreathingtoo.
Checkinwithyourshoulders,yourbellies.Aretheyrelaxed?Notupinyourearsor
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downinyourboots?Breathe.”There’sacollectivesighofreliefaroundthesmall
tent.
“Ianna,youokay?”Aslightnod.“Sowhyisthiswallhere?Askthewall.Talktoit.”
Iannagetsaslightgrinonherface.Talktothewall.Whynot?“Thewallsaysthatit’s
heretoprotectme.ThatIdon’twanttoseewhat’sontheotherside.It’sbetterto
leaveitbe.”
“Thatmakessensethatthewallwantstoprotectyou.Itseemsthatit’sbeingdoing
thatforalongtimenow.Don’tyouthink?Butbeingprotectedhasn’tbroughtyou
thehappinessyousodesire.True?”
Iannaconsidersmyargument.“True.”
“Whydon’twemakeadealwiththewall?Itletsyoupass,letsyouseewhatyouare
readytoseenow,withWiseOneatyourside.Andifyouneeditto,youcanaskthe
walltosealupagain.How’sthatsound?”
“Good.”
“Okay.Howdoyouwanttogetpassthewall?”
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“Oh!”Iannaletsoutastartledcry.“There’sacrackinthewallthatIdidn’tsee
before.Somelightiscomingthrough.Oh,it’scrackingsoit’sbigenoughthatIcango
through.”
Iannawalksthroughthewall.“What’sontheotherside?”Iask.
“Um.I’mnotsurewhatI’mseeing.Everythingiskindofblurryandchaotic.Wait.
There’salittlegirlhere.She’supset.She’stryingtotalktotheadults,tryingtoget
theirattention,butnooneislistening.”
“Doesthislittlegirlremindyouofanyone?Doesthissituation?”
Iannadissolvesintotears.“Yes,”shewhispers.“That’sme.That’swhatitwaslikein
myhousegrowingup.Noonewouldlistentome.Noonepaidanyattention.”
“Whatdoesthelittlegirlwanttosay?Tellherthatyou’llpayattention.”
Iannadoesn’tsayanythingforabit.Everyonehereisrivetedbythescenethat’s
unfolding.“Shedoesn’twanttotalktomeeither,butshetookmyhandisleadingme
somewhere.ShejustputherhandovermyeyessoIcan’tsee,butwe’rewalking.”
Ianna’sbreathingisgettingfaster.
“Breathing…”Iremindherandthegroup.
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“Ohmygod!No!No.No.Nooooo…..”Iannaletsoutawail.
Thetensioninthetentratchetsup.
“Ianna.We’rerightherewithyou.Youareokay.Canyoudescribewhatyouare
seeing?”
“Noooooo!”Iannaiscurlingupintoaball.
Holyshit.What’shappening?WhatdoIdoiftheemotiongetstobetoobigor
unmanageable?
Iannaisstartingtohyperventilate.“I….don’t……,no…..believe….it.No!”
“Ianna.Ianna.Ineedyoutobreathemoreslowly.Canyoufeelyourhandsonyour
belly?Breatheinthroughyournose,outthroughyourmouth,allthewaytoyour
belly.Yep,that’sit.Breathintotheground.Good.Nowslowly.Slowly.”
Ihavetodothis.Ican’tfail.
Iannaisshakingallover.Iplacemyhandonherback,sendingsoothing,calm
energy.“Gentlynow,let’sunwind.Canyourolloversoyourbellyisontheground?
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That’sgood.”WeallshufflearoundtoaccommodateIanna.“Everyoneplaceahand
onIannaandahandonyourownheart.Keepbreathing.Letthisenergymove.”
Iannalaysherselfdownonthegroundandthishelpshercalmdown,butshe’sstill
hiccupsobbing.“Feelallthelovethat’ssurroundingyou.FromtheWiseOne.From
eachofus.Youarehere.You’resafe.Okay.Tellmewhatyouthelittlegirlshowed
you.”
Withalong,shakybreath,Iannaspeakshaltingly.“Mybrother…”Abigsob.“My
brotherwasontopofme…Hestartedticklingme….Ididn’tlikeit….Itriedtopush
himaway,tomakehimstop….Buthewouldn’t…HesaidIwassopretty…he
started…..startedtotouchme.Iwassolittle!Ididn’tknowwhattodo.Ilovedmy
brother…whywashedoingthistome?Iwassoconfused.Istartedshrieking…my
dadcameintheroom,tookonelookatus…Helaughedandsaid“CutitoutJake!”
andthenwalkedaway…Howcouldheleavemethere?Ohhhhhh!!!”
Iannaissobbingagain.“That’sitletitallout.That’sit.”
Therearesoundsofcryingfromallcornersofthetent.
Iannacontinues,“Hedidn’tcare!HerefusedtoseewhatJakeywasdoing.LaterI
triedtotellmymom.Butshetoldme,‘That’sdisgusting.Yourbrotherwouldn’tdo
that.Hewasjustmessingaround.Youmusthavedonesomethingtoprovokehim.
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Forgetaboutit.It’snothing.’Butitwasn’tnothing!Jakeydiditforyears.UntilIgot
older,thenonedayhejuststopped.Itwassoconfusing.IthoughtIdidsomething
wrong.”
Iannacriesintotheground.Shestartspoundingherfistintothedirt.“It’snotfair!
Whydidhedothattome?Whywouldn’tanyonelistentome?Whydidn’tthey
protectme?Theyfuckedupmywholelife.Ihatethem.Ihatethem….”
Wow,thisisintense.Iremindmyselftobreathe.“Ianna.Letyourselfbemad.Really
pissed.It’snotrightwhatJakedidtoyou.Oryourmom.Oryourdad.Letthatlittle
girlbegoodandangry.”
Iannasitsupsosuddenly,thatwealljumpback.Sheisscreamingnow.Howling.
Whatifsomeonehearsus?Butthisisnotthetimeforrestraint.Theenergyis
building.
“C’mon,everyone.Howl!Getmad.Iflifehasbeenunfairtoyou,ifyouhaven’tfelt
lovedorprotected.Howlitout.Goforit.Howlforallthelittlegirlswhoweren’t
takencareofliketheydeserved.”
Wemakeagreatruckus.Thereareafewminutesofpureinsanityinourtinytent.
Butitfeelsgood.Sogood.Tojustletitallhangout.Tobemadandsadandnothave
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toapologizeorholdbackinanyway.ToletoutthecraziesinatentontopofMachu
Picchu.
Okay.Okaynow.
Iannahasherarmswrappedaroundher.She’srockingbackandforth.Okaynow.
We’renotdone.Everyonesettlesbackin.
“Ianna.There’sstillanotherpiece.You’vedonesowell.Youaresobrave.Lookatall
you’veseenthatyouwereneverabletolookatbefore.Youmightneedtocomeback
andrevisitthis.Reallygrieveforthatlittlegirl.ButIalsothinkit’simportantto
forgive.”
“Forgive?”Ianna’sangersurgestothesurface.“Forgive?WhyshouldIforgivehim?
Hewasmybigbrother.Hewassupposedtoprotectme,notmolestme.”
DidIgotoofar?WasIpushinghertoomuch?No,itfeltlikethiswasimportant.Too
reallyresolvethis.Toleavenobodybehind,notonepieceofIanna,justlikeLaDona
said.
“Feelallthatanger.Feelit.Wheredoesitliveinyourbody?”
“Here,”Iannamovesherhandsdown,clutchingherwomb.
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“Okay.Let’sbreatheintothatspaceandseewhat’sthere.Ohyes.Anger.IstheWise
Onestillwithyou?”
Iannanodsyes.
“Thelittlegirl?”
Yesagain.
“Let’saskthemtohelpus.Holdthelittlegirlinyourarms.Letherknowthatyouare
herenow.Thatyou’vecometotakecareofher.AsktheWiseOnetobethereforyou
both.Nowwhodoyouwanttostartwith?Yourbrother?Yourmom?Yourdad?”
“Mydad.”
“Haveyourdadstandinfrontofyou.Lookhiminhiseyes.Tellhimeverything
you’vealwayswantedtosay.Speakforthelittlegirlinyourarms.Tellhim
everythingdon’tholdback.”
“It’sscary.Idon’ttalktomydad.”
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“Iknowit’sscary.Butyoucandoit.Allthehelpyouneedisrighthere.Youcandoit
forthelittlegirl.Sheneedsyouto.”
Iannagoesdeepwithin.Iwatchashereyestwitchandmoretearsfollowthecurve
ofhernoseanddripoffintotheground.Somanyyearsofpainandsuffering.
“Okay,Ididit.”
“Good,nowcomestheforgivenesspart.Wedon’tforgivesomeoneelsebecause
whattheydidwasokayorbecausetheydeservetobeforgiven.Weforgivesothat
wenolongerneedtocarryaroundthispaininsideofus.Wereleaseourselvesfrom
thepain.Weletgo.SoIwantyoutoimagineacordbetweenyouandyourfather,a
cordofenergy,oflight,connectingthetwoofyou.That’sit.Frombellytobelly.Send
allyourhurt,allthesufferingthatdidn’tbelongtoyoubacktohim.Good.Now
breatheinallyourpower,breathebackinyourknowingnessthatwhatJakedid
wasn’tright.Whatyoudaddidn’tdowasn’tright.”
Iannamakestheenergeticexchange.“Okay,nowit’stimetocutthiscord.Breakit.I
forgiveyou.Ireleaseyou.Ireleasemyselffromallthispainandangerandsadness.”
“Oh,mydadiscrying.I’veneverseenmydadcry.Hewasalwayssobigandscary.
Hesaidthathe’ssorrytoo.Hewasashamed.Hedidn’tknowwhattodo.Thathe
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lovedme.He’sregretsallthetimeshehitmeandJake.Hejustwantedustobe
better.That’showhewasraised.Hedidn’tknow.”
There’snotadryeyeinthehouse.Wecanallrelateonsomelevel.Tonotgettingthe
lovewesowantedfromourparents.Fromlovingsomeoneandnotknowinghowto
showourlove.Forwantingmoreforourlovedone.Forfeelingscaredtospeakup.
“You’redoingsowell.Okay,let’sdothesamewithyourmomandtheJake.”
Iannabravelyspeakshertruthtoeachfamilymember.Hercouragetofaceher
painfulpastisheart-opening.
“Okay,Ianna.We’realmostdone.Nowyouneedtomakeyourpeacewithyourlittle
girl.Youneedtoforgiveyourselfforabandoningyourself.Youdidn’tknowany
better.Youwereachild.Butnowyouareanadult.Youarehere.Youcanbeherefor
herandyoucanmoveforwardinyourlifeknowingthatyouarehealed,whole.You
canstartmakingdifferentdecisionsforyourself.Youcanloveyourself.Takecareof
yourself.Fullycompletely.”
Quiet.
“Allofus.Allofuscanforgiveanyonewhohurtusinthepastsowecanlivemore
fullytoday.Allofuscanforgivethetimeswewerenotthereforourselves.It’stime
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toreclaimallpartsofourselves.Westartbylovingthedarkplaces.Thecrevicesthat
wedon’twanttoseeoraccept.That’slove.Justseeingandaccepting.That’slove.”
Everyoneisbreathingmoredeeplyandfully.
“NowIanna,rememberthatlightyousawthroughthecrackinthewall?Wellthatis
you.Thatisyourlight,yourintegrity.Picturethatlightsostrongandclear.Feelit.
Gatherupthelittlegirl,gatheruptheWiseOne.Makeyourwaybacktothewall.
Thewalliscrumbling.Seeit?It’sfallingtobits.It’sdoneit’sjob.Thankit.Letit
knowthatyounolongerneedittoprotectyou.Youcanfeelagain.It’ssafe.Youcan
trustyourselftospeakupwhenyouneedto.Youcantrustyourselftotakecareof
yourself.You’vealwaysbeenlight,brightshinylight.Nowit’stimetoletthatlight
shineoutintoyourentirelife.”
Icanseesoclearlythecrumblingwall,herlittlegirlself,andherWiseOne.Theyare
pickingtheirwayoverthecrumbledremainsofthewall.Theylookbatteredand
tired,butthere’salsoaglow,aprideaboutthem.They’vedoneit.Ianna’sreclaimed
herself.
Ispeaktothewholegroup,“Today,wereclaimourpower.Wereclaimourdivinity.
Wereclaimourrighttoloveandbeloved.Weknowwhatfeelsrightandwhatfeels
wrong.Wefindthecouragetospeakourtruth.Wefindthecompassion–for
ourselves–toforgive.Wearewomen.Wearestrong.Wearepowerful.Andwhen
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westarttoloveourselves,wecanloveothersmorefullyandmoredeeplyandthis
impactsallfuturegenerationsonthisplanet.A-ho.”
Eachwomaninthetentaddsher“A-ho”tominejustasagustofwindhowls
throughtheruinsandblowsopenthetent.Allthisintenseenergyisblowndownthe
mountainside.Foramoment,noonemovesorissureofwhereweareorwhat’s
happening.We’relookingoutintoastar-litsky.Themoonisshiningdownonus.
Thereisnothingbutabig,openwidevistainfrontofus.Thestormhaspassed,the
skiesareclear.Andthereisoneenormousllama,closeenoughtotouch,whopicks
hisheadup,cranesittowardsusandwinkshisbeautifuleyelashesatus.
Weturnandstareateachother,mouthsopen.Apparentlyitisnight.Wearestillin
thelostcity.Andthere’sallamanexttous.
Weburstintolaughter.Whatotherresponseisthere?Likepuppiescoopedupina
cagefortoolong,weboundoutofthetent.Westumblearound,tryingtofind
footingonlegsthathavebeencrampedasleepforhours.Asthesensationsreturns,
Iannastartsjumpingaround,callingout,“Ooo,ooo,ooo!”Whichpromptsanotherfit
oflaughterandawildlittleboogieasweringaroundacircle,spinning,holding
hands.Kickingourfeetup.
Wedidit!
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WeletoutanApacheyell.Thenallcometogethertohug.“Thatwasamazing!...I
can’tbelieveit!...Wow….Whoknew?...Thankyou!”
We’veallhadquitetheemotionaldayandhaveemergedforeverdifferent.Westand,
armsdrapedovereachother’sshouldersandstareoutatthemountains.Quiet.
Takingitallin.Inawe.
Oneofourstomachsgrowlloudlyandthisbreaksourcommunionwiththisamazing
place.Ilookaround.
“Um,guys?”Isay.“Doesanyoneknowhowtogetbacktotheentrance?”Iamno
longerembarrassedtoadmitthatIdon’tknowitallafterthistransformativeday.
Welookateachotherandshakeourheadsbashfully.Notonlydoesnooneknow,
butit’snowcompletelydarkandhardtosee.Ohgod,whatifwe’vemissedthebus?
I’mscrewed!Ideasanyone?
Westartgatheringupourbelongingswhileourllamafriendcontinuestomunchon
grassnearby.Bythetimewe’vedisassembledourgear,myeyeshaveadjustedto
thedarkness.Iseethatthere’snotjustonellamahere,butthewholeherdis
surroundingus.They’vebeenstandingsentryallday,andintothenight.Wenever
heardthemreturn,butclearlytheyfelttheyhadajobtodohere.
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“Anyone?”Iaskonemoretimetonervousgiggles.Iturntothellamas,somewhat
joking,“Uh,guys?Alittlehelphere?Howdowegetout?”
Andwiththatrequest,GuideLlamawalkstothecenterofthellamacircle.Heis
resplendentinallhistall,shaggyglory.Hemakesawide,slowturn,sothatwecan
admirehimfullythenheads,sure-footedlyupthehill.Onebyonetheotherllamas
followhim.SinceIdon’thaveabetterplan,Iwavetothegroup.“C’monladies,let’
go.”
Wefollowthellamasastheyweavethroughpassagesandrooms,pastthetree,
throughcourtyards.Itisabiteeriebeingintheruinsatnight.Thereisnotanother
soul,norevenotherllamas,insight.AfewtimesGuideLlamapausesinadoorway,
andturnstomakesurethatwearefollowinghim.It’sadisconcertingsighttoseea
llamawalkingthroughthethresholdofadoor,evenifit’sinacityinruins.
WewalkformuchlongerthanIrememberingettinghere.Idon’trecognizemuch
pastthetree.Althoughtheviewoffthemountainisclear,wewalkinandoutof
clouds–ormist,notsure,aswemakeourwayupthehillside.JustasIstartto
wonderifI’vecompletelylostmymindintrustingallamatoleadusoutofthis
place,GuideLlamastops.“What?”Isaytohimoutloud.Ican’tseemuchaheadof
me.There’ssomuchmist.
Heturnsandlooksforward.
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Justthen,themistpartsandIseetheentranceisrightinfrontofus.Amazing.
Ibownamastetothellama.Seriously,dude,thankyouforgettingusoutofthelost
city.Iwouldn’twanttospendthenightlosthere.Eachofmyfollowersdoesthe
same,bowingsolemnlytothellamas.Iseethegateupahead.Cool,wearehome
free.
Ah,butnosuchluck.Thegateischainedshut.Tightlyshut.Notevenwithenough
wiggleroomforaskinnyMinnielikeme.Andthebarbedwireattopdoesnotlook
invitingtotrytoscaleover.Crap.WearelockedinMachuPicchu,withourllamas
friends.
Ireallydon’twanttospendthenightlockedinMachuPicchu.OhGod,whatwillLa
Donasay?I’mscrewed.
BribingMyWayOUTofMachuPicchu
Think,think!Iimploremyself.NotaneasytaskwhenI’vebeeninshamanmindall
day.Ican’tquitefullygrokhowwegotlockedin.Don’ttheydoasweepofthe
groundsatnight?Andwhyhaven’tourgrandEwokleadersnoticedthatwe’re
missing?Recuepartyanyone
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Okay,Icanfigurethisout.Ihope.Ilookaroundtoseeifthereareanyotheroptions.
Wasn’ttheresomekindofticketboothnotfarfromthegates?AndthenIseeit.A
faintglowofawindowslightlyuphillfromus.Andmuffledlaughter?Comingfrom
within.Theremustbesomeguardshereatnight,don’tyouthink?I’mnotsurewhat
aguardwouldsayaboutusstillbeinginhere.Isitevenlegaltobeintheruinsafter
dark?Ireallydon’treallywanttoexplainmyselftotheguards.Eveniftheyspoke
perfectEnglish,whichI’mbettingtheydon’t,howcouldIexplainwhatwewereup
to?Vainly,Itryonemoretimerattlingthegate,hopingbysomemiracleitwillopen
andwe’llbefree.Nope.
Iturntomygroup.“Alrightladies,let’sgouptotheentrancebooth.Ourstoryisthat
welosttrackofthetimeandgotalittlelostcomingout.Lookcharmingand
innocent,ok?”
Wefluffourhairandhopeforthebest.Idomybesttowalkconfidentlyuptothe
booth,whichturnsouttobemoreofamaintenanceshed.Thedooriscrackedopen
andIcanseetherearefour,maybefive,meninside,atleasttwodressedinguard
uniformsandtherestdressedasmaintenancemen.Thereisraucouslaughter
spillingout.Sotheyareinagoodmood,let’shopeitlasts.
Iknockonthedoorandthelaughterabruptlystops.Ihearoneofthemcallout,
“Whatthe…???”MySpanishisprettydecentatthispoint,butPeruvianSpanishwith
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Peruvianaccentsisawholeotherbeast.Evenso,notranslationisneededto
understandthattheyarequitesurprisedthatanyoneelseishereonthegrounds.
“Hola!”Icalloutbrightly.Thedoorswingsopen.ThereissomescramblingasItake
inthescene.Themenarehastilyputtingbottlesofalcoholunderthetable,tryingto
hidethemoutofsight.Theyholdcardsintheirhands.ItappearsthatI’vejust
walkedintoaPeruvianversionofmen’spokernightonthejob.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”oneoftheguardsbarks.“Youshouldn’tbehere!”At
leastthat’swhatIthinkhesays.Eitherwaythelookontheirfacesmakesitclear
thattheynottoohappytoseeme.Besidesbeinginthesacredcityafterdark,which
I’mprettysureisabigno-no,I’vejustcaughtthemdrinkingonthejobandplaying
cards,whichI’mguessingisalsoano-notoo.
“Losiento…”Iproceedapologizingformyinterruption.“MyfriendsandIgotalittle
lostandnowwecan’tgetout.”Igesturetomygroupwhoisstillstandingoutside
theshack,sothankfulthattheyareherewithme.Iwouldn’twanttobefacingthis
situation–ortheseguys,alone.Themenpeeraroundmeintothedarkness.Oneof
themsnickersandmakesacomment,I’msureit’srude,aboutmeormaybemy
friends.
“Maybeyoucouldhelpusgetout?”ImakeamotionthatIhopemeansunlockagate
inPeru.LordknowsiftheycanunderstandmygringaSpanisheither.
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Theguardthatseemstobethebosslooksconfused.“Youshouldnotbehere.You
arenotallowedintheruinsatnight.Thegatescloseat6pm.”
Thankyouforstatingtheobvious.
Iammuymuylosiento,reallyIam.Iapologizeagain.“Couldyouunlockthegates
andwecangetout?”Itossmywinningestsmileathim.
“Ohno,thatisnotpossible,”hereplies,puffingup.“Thegatesdon’tre-openuntil
tomorrowmorning.Wehaveruleshereandwemustobeythem.Youmustleaveat
once.”
OhGod.I’mtanglingwithalowerechelonoftangledSouthAmericanbureaucracy
thathasnologic.Iwanttoleave,theywantustoleave,butthegatesarelockedand
can’tbere-opened.Stalemate?
Idecidetoswitchtactics.Imakeamotiontoreachintomypockets.“Wewouldbe
most,mostgratefulifyoucouldarrangeforustoleave.”IknowIdon’thavemore
thanafewPeruviansolsinmypocket.Iwasn’tthinkingthatI’dneedmuchmoney
totourtheruins,butI’mhopingthatmyamigashavebroughtsomecashwiththem.
Wemightneedtobribeourwayout.“Thenyoucouldgetbacktoyourwork.”Iraise
myeyebrowsslightlytoindicatethatperhapstheyarenotplayingbytherules
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either.Oneofthemaintenancemen,pokeshisbuddyintheribs,andnods.He
knowsIjustplayedtheguard’shand.HecallsoutsomethingingarbledSpanishto
theguard,whichI’mhopingistheequivalentof“givethisniceladyabreaksowe
cangetbacktoourgame.”
Theguardpretendstothinklongandhard.“Perhapsitcouldbearranged,”the
guardacquiesces,“butIdon’thavethekeys.Itwouldbeverydifficulttofind
someonewhohasthem.Thentounlockthegatesafter-hourscouldbringtrouble
withourbosses.”
Yes!Ismileinside.He’sjustworkingupthebribefeeforallofhistrouble.
FortunatelyI’veseenthisdancebeforeinMarzipan,soIplayalong.AlthoughI
woulddearlylovetopointoutthathehasahugeringofkeysstrappedtohisbelt,I
knowthisisnotthebesttacticalmaneuver.
“Iamsureyouarethemanforthejob.Ifanyonecouldgetthisdone,itwouldbe
you.”Iamalsosurethatflatteringthemaleegoworksinanycountry.HowIsaythis
withastraightface,Idon’tknow.“Whydon’tIstepoutsideandtalkwithmyfriends
sowecanproperlythankyou?”
Theguardclapshishandstogetherandbeams.“Yes,yes!Goodidea.JustwhatIwas
thinkingmyself.”
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Ibowmyheadslightlytohimandsay,“Gentlemen”totherest.IfeellikeI’minsome
badmovieplayingthedamselindistress.
“Okayladies,Ithinkwehaveawayout.Wejustneedtopoolourmoneytogetherto
getusoutofhere.Howmuchwegot?”Everyonedigsintotheirpockets,backpacks,
andmoneybelts.What’stheappropriateamountofabribetogetyourselfoutof
MachuPicchu?Thisisnotexactlythestufftheyteachyouinschool.Wedon’thave
muchamongus.Willweneedmoneytogetusdownthemountainandbackto
town?Wequicklydebateamongus.$10USdollarsisalotofmoneyhereinPeru
andyetwedon’twanttooffendoursaviors.$10each?Wevotefor$50total,a
windfallnodoubt.I’llstartbyoffering$40with$10asbackup.We’llsavealittle
cashforwhatevertomfoolerycomesnextinreturningtoourhotel.
Istepbackintheshack,myhandstillinmypocketwiththemoneyjustbarely
peekingout.TheguardushersmeinasifIamnowhisbestfriend.“Comeincome
in!Wouldyoulikeaseat?”Thevibehasdefinitelychanged.Theyarepleasedattheir
goodfortune.Nowitfeelsliketheywanttopushtheirluck.Icanfeelit’stimetoget
outofhere.“Thankyousomuch,butreally,wemustgetbacktoourhotel.Allour
friends(andImakesuretoemphasizethemaleversionof“friends”)arewaitingfor
us.”
Abriefscowlflickersacrosstheguardsface.Iquicklyadd,“Iamsohappythatyou
wereabletofindthekeys.”Theguardgrabstheringofkeysonhisbeltandquickly
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coversforhimself,“Yes,yes.Iwasabletotalkwithmysupervisorandhewillallow
metoopenthegatesjustthisonetime.”Iglossoverthefactthatthekeyshave
alwaysbeenonhisbeltandhiswalkie-talkieisnoton.“Ohthankyousomuch!We
aresograteful.Goodnightgentlemen!Sorrytobotheryou.”
Iturnonmyheelandwalkoutthedoorprayingthathewilltakemycueandfollow
meandmymoney.Hedoesandaswewalkbacktothegate,awayfromhisfriends,
heisquitesolicitous.“Youmustbereadytogobacktoyourhotel…Howwasyour
timeatMachuPicchu?...Isthisyourfirsttimehere?”Ianswerhimpolitely,realizing
thatmyenergyisdrainingfast.It’sbeenalongday,fullofintenseenergyandonly
snacks.Ican’twaittocrawlintobed.
TheguardunlocksthegateandIthankhimprofusely.Allmywomenchimeintheir
thanksaswell.You’reourhero!He’sbeaming.Iaskhimwherewecatchthebusto
returntoAguaCalientes.“Thebus?”heaskswithalaugh.“Thereisnobusthistime
ofnight.Thelastbuslefthoursago.”
Ilaughgood-naturedly.Oh,that’sfunny.“You’rekidding,right?”“No,no,”heassures
me.Thelastbusleavesahalf-houraftertheparkcloses.Iwanttoswearinrather
un-ladylikeSpanish,butIholdmytongue.“Noworries.Thankyou.We’llfigureit
out.”
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Ireachouttoshakehishandandindoingsopasshimthewadofsols.Beforehecan
countitorcontesthowmuchwe’vegivenhim,Icalltomygroup.Theydon’tspeak
Spanishsotheyhaven’tfollowedthislatestdevelopment.“C’monguys.Thelastbus
lefthoursago.”Isayinmymostcheerfulvoice.“Let’sthankthenicemanandmake
ourwaytothehotel.”Achorusof“Thankyou!Thankyou!Byenow!”ringsoutand
wetrudgeupthehilltothehotel.Thisadventureisn’toveryet.
WemakeourwayintothefrontentranceandIcatchaglimpseatourselvesina
lobbymirror.Weareamess.Ourhairiswild,therearetearstreaksonmostofour
faces.Ourbackpacksareoverstuffedwithwetponchoshangingoffthesides.The
hotelissomewhatrusticandrumoredtobehighlyoverpriced.Atleasttheymustbe
somewhatusedtohikerscomingin.
Astheonlyhoteluphereonthisstunningsite,itcanchargewhateveritwants.And
itdoes.WhichiswhyweEwoksareinahoteldowninAguaCalientes.Nowhowdo
wegetfromheretothere?
IattempttosmoothdownmyhairandrubsomeofthegrimeoffmyfaceasI
approachthefrontdesk.Knowingmyattemptstocleanupmadelittleimprovement,
Isigh.IsighagainwhenIseethatthereisnoonebehindthefrontdesk.Iringthe
bell.Nothing.Again.Noone.
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Iseemygroupisstartingtofade.Nowwhat?Thebarhaspeopleinit.Maybe
someonetherecanhelpus.Imotionforeveryonetofollowmeintothebar,where
mytiredlassiesspreadoutandsinkdownintothechairsscatteredaroundthe
room.Isaddleuptothebarandcatchthebartender’seye.
“Hello.Xavier.”Igleanhisnamefromreadinghisnametag.“DoyouspeakEnglish?”
Iaskenespanol.Itwouldbesucharelieftoexplainmydilemmainmynative
tongue.“Yes,alittle,”thebartenderreplies.Iwanttojumpacrossthebarandkiss
himalloverhisface,onlyI’mtoowipedtomakesureaboldmove.“ThankGod!”I
say.Nowwheretobegin?
Iinquirewhetherthereissomeoneworkingatthefrontdeskandwhetherthey
couldhelpusarrangetransportationdowntoAguaCalientes.Helaughsatthe
request.“No,nooneworksthedeskafter9pm.”Idoadouble-take.It’safter9pm?
Howdidwelosetrackofthatmuchtime?Ichecktheclockabovethebar.Great.We
justmissedthefrontdesk.“AndthereisnowaytogettoAguaCalientesatthistime
ofnight.Thelastbuslefthoursago.”
Ifeeltearsspringingtomyeyes.Iwanttobawl.Andgohome.Buttearsarenot
goingtohelpinthissituation.WhatIreallyneedishelp,realhelp.AsmuchasI
dreaddoingit,IneedtocallLaDonaorWillow.Notonlydotheyneedtoknow
whereweareandthatweareokay,buthopefullytheycanhelpgetusoutofthis
messandoffthemountain.Iexplainmysituationtothebartender.“Wearestaying
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atahotelinAguaCalientes.Wegotstuckintheruins.”Thebartenderlooksshocked.
“Woulditbepossibletomakeacalltoourhotel?”
“LetmeseewhatIcando,”hesaysashedisappearsbehindthebar.“Whathotelare
youstayingat?”
IrealizethatIhavenofuckingclue.Withmylackofresponse,thebartenderis
lookingatmelikeI’malittleoffmyrocker.Thistriphasbeenablurofhotels.Asa
tourgroupparticipant,wejustshowupandsleeptheresoIhaven’tneededto
know.I’mabouttoexplaintohimwherethehotelisintownandwhatitlookslike,
whenIrealizethatsomeoneinmygroupmustknow.Andoneofthemdoes.Thank
you.
Whilehe’sgone,oneofmygroupiescomesoverwiththebarmenu.“Doyouthink
wecouldgetsomethingtoeat?”sheaskssomewhatsheepishly.“We’restarving.”Oh
God,yes.Food!Onlynoneofushavemuchmoneysinceweusedupourmeager
resourcesonthebribe.Weallwereinstructednottocarryaroundcreditcards
unlessabsolutelynecessary,soallourplasticisstuckbackinourhotel.Iscanthe
menu.Howmuchwegotleft?Icheckmypocketforwhat’sleftofourcollection.Not
muchandthepricesonthismenuareinsanelyjackedup.Imakeaquickcalculation,
impressedmybrainisstillfunctioning.Wehavejustenoughforafewordersof
FrenchFries.Thatwillhavetodo.
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Mybartender,XaviertheSavior,returnswitharumpledlookinghotelemployeein
tow.IaskXavierifwecanordersomefood.Unfortunatelyhe’snotgoingtobe
gettingabigtip.ThenXavierintroducesmetothehotelmanagerondutyandI
explainmystoryonceagain.Shedoesnotlookamused.“Thereisnowaytogetback
toAguaCalientestonight.Allthebuseshavegonefortheday.”Okay,well,canwe
stayhere?“No,thatisnotpossible.Wearebookedformonthsinadvance.”Notthat
wehaveanymoneytopayforaroom.Canwewalkdown?Thisdoesnotsoundlike
awiseideatome,butwhatotheroptionsareleft?“No!”themanagerlooks
horrified.“Theroadistreacherousatnight.”Sowhatdoyousuggestwedo?“Iam
sorry,butI’mafraidthereisnothingwecando.”
NowI’mgettingpissed.I’mhungry.I’mtired.I’memotionallyspent.Really?There’s
nosolutionhere?IknowIgotmyselfintothismess,butIcan’tbelievethatthere’s
nowayout.IsayasnicelyasIcaninthismoment,“Canwepleasecallourhotelin
AguaCalientes?Maybetheycanhelp.Andourtourgroupisprobablymostworried
aboutus.”
Themanagershrugsasifthisisnotgoingtomatter,butguidesmebacktothefront
desktomakethecall.WeconnecttothehotelandIhearherspeakinginrapid-fire
Spanishtothefrontdeskthere.Finallyshehandsmethephone.Istarttoexplainmy
situationforwhatfeelslikethemillionthtime,whenIrealizethatwhatIreallyneed
istotalktoWilloworYesDoc.ActuallyanyEwokwilldo.Ijustcan’tdoSpanish
overthephoneatthispointinthenight.Iasktheclerkcouldheplease,please,
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pleasegetWilloworYesDoc?Please?Hesaysthathedoesn’tknowwheretheyare
atthistime.Okay.Anybody?Somebodyfromthegroup?
Iamputonholdforanexcoriatinglylongtime.Ihopethatwearen’tgoingtobe
chargedforthiscall.Weareoutofdinero.Finallyavoicecomesontheline.It’sJ.R.,
oneofthegoofiermembersofourtribe.Justmyluck.Aquickexplanationwitha
pleatofindWillowpreferably,YesDocsecondarily,andasalastresortLaDona.
“Oooo,youaregoingtobeinsomuchtrooouubllllee!”J.R.croonsintothephone.
ThisisthelastthingIneedrightnow.“J.R.!Please!Alittlehelphere?”“Okay,okay,
I’llseewhatIcando.”Iwaitagainwithatightsmiletothemanager.“Theyare
coming.”Thenthelinegoesdead.Igroan.
ItmighttakeJ.R.awhiletofindsomeonesoIsuggesttothemanagerthatwewaitto
seeiftheycallbackandifnotwecancallagaininalittlebit.ThenIflopdownintoa
lobbychair,myheadlolledback.AllIcandoiswait.Andpray.
IannaspiesmefromthebarandbringsaplateoverofafewlimpFrenchFries.
“Thoughtyoumightlikeafewbeforetheyareallgone.”Thanks.Ismileweakly.“I
justwanttothankyouforwhathappenedintheretoday.Thatwasamazing.No.It
wasamiracle.IneverthoughtI’dfigureoutwhathappenedinmychildhoodthat
wassohorribleandhasheldmebackforsolong.AndnowIknowandcandealwith
thisthankstoyou.”
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IgiveIannaabighug.“Youdidallthehardwork.Iamsohappyforyou.”Ianna
wipesafewtearsthatareleakingfromhereyes.“Really,thankyou.”Andsherushes
offtotherestroom.Whatadayforher.Formetoo.
Thephoneatthefrontdeskringsandthehotelmanagerhandsitouttome.It’s
Willow.ThankGod.Iamsohappytotalktosomeoneinchargewhocanhelp.I’m
notexpectingthetorrentthatgreetsme.“Whattheheckisgoingon?Whereare
you?Iseveryoneokay?Wehavebeensoworriedaboutyourgroup!Weputyouin
charge.Youwereresponsibleforgettingeveryonebackhere.”
I’mshocked.Asurgeofangerwellsupinme.Thisisn’tfair!Ihaven’tevenhada
chancetoexplainwhat’sgoingon.Andwhataboutalltheamazingworkthatwedid
today?Andwaitaminute!IwasfollowingLaDona’sorders.ButIdon’thavea
chancetosayanyofthis.Willowisorderingmetoputthehotelmanagerbackon.
Asingletearslidesdownmycheek.Ihategettingballedout.Iknowshe’sspeaking
throughherworryandherresponsibilityforthelargergroup.Renegadeassistant
teacherscertainlydon’tmakeherlifeeasier.Butstill…
IoverhearthemanagerarguingwithWillowonthephone.Willowhasherjobcut
outforher.“Please,please,please,”Ibegundermybreath,“Justgetusoutofhere.”
Finallythehotelmanager,handsmebackthephone.Willowtellsmetheplan,“I’ve
arrangedforyoutocomebackontheemployeebus.Itleavesat12:30.Makesure
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everyoneonyourgroupisonit.AndcomefindmeorLaDonawhenyouarebackso
weknowthatyoureturned.”Itwillbecrowded,butawaydown.
IthankWillowprofuselyandtellherthatwedon’thaveanymoneyforthebus.“I’ll
takecareofit,”shesaysdrily.Shepauses,“Didyouatleastdosomegoodwork
whileyouwereupthere?”Igrin.“Wedid.Wereallydid.”She’sateacher.Shegetsit.
Youdowhatittakesandletthechipsfallwheretheymay.“Okay,seeyousoon.”
Ithankthemanagerandreturntothegroup.Greatnews!Wehaveawaytogetback.
Wehaveaplan.Onlybummer?Wehaveaboutthreehourstowaituntilthebus
departs.
Mosteveryoneisslumpedoveratableinthebar.IfIdidn’tknowbetter,I’dthink
theywereallpassedoutdrunk.Ifindanemptyseatandsinkintoit.Xaviercomes
overwithabowlofnuts.ThiswillbemydinnerfortonightsincealltheFrenchFries
arelonggone.“Thanks,Ireallyappreciateitandallyourhelp.”“Muchogusto,”he
replieswithaslightbow,“Mypleasure.”
“Couldyoudomeonemorefavor?”Iask.“Couldyoumakesurethatweallwakeup
andgetontheemployeebus?”
“Absolutemente,”hepromisesme.Thisguyreallyhasbeenanangel.AllIcandoto
repayhimissmile.
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Idownthebowlofnuts.IwishIcouldgotosleepbutI’mtooampedupandworried
aboutmissingthebus.SoIsitintheuncomfortablechairforwhatseemslike
eternity.
Finally,mercifully,IdriftoffforafewminutesbeforeIfeelsomeoneshakingmy
shoulder.I’mup!Awake.Wefollowalonglineofhotelemployeesouttheback
entranceandboardtheemployeebus.It’sdecidedlylessfancythanthetouristbus.
Wesqueezeintogethertocuriousstares.
Thebuszig-zagsbackdownthecrazysharpswitchbacks.I’msogladthatIcan’tsee
wherewearegoinginthedark.Arriveatthehotel.Ihugeveryonegoodnight.But
I’mnotdone.I’vegottofindWillowandgetmyspanking.
Ihearlaughtercomingfromthebar.Ican’tbelievethatanyofourgroupisupthis
latebutIgointoinvestigate.Willowisnowheretobeseen,butLaDonaisholding
courtatthebar.Howcanshestillbegoingthislateatnight?Iknowshetooka
grouptotheruinstoo.Andherhair,asalways,stilllooksimpeccable.Howdoesshe
doit?Sheglancesinmydirection.Myheartsinks.She’sgoingtokillme.Ihaveno
doubt.
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Imeeklywalkovertotakemylickings.IstandbeforeLaDonatrembling.She
finishestellingherjokeandlooksupatme,“Ohhihoney.Howareyou?”Shetakesa
sipofherdrink.Idon’tknowwhattosay.“I’mgood.Back.”
“SoIsee.Everyoneokay?”There’satwinkleinhereye.
“Yep,”I’mbracingmyself,waitingforhertogiveittome.
“Okay,good.Youmightwanttogetsomesleep.”Hereyessparkleatmeforanother
moment.Couldthatbealookofapproval?Itdoestakesomecojonestogetstranded
ontopofMachuPicchu.Sheturnsbacktooneofhermanyadmirers,dismissingme.
Didshejustwinkatme??
I’mstillstandingthere.Really?That’sit?
“Anythingelse?”shelooksbackatme.
“I’msorry…?”Ioffer.
Shewavesherhandasifshe’sshooingoffafly.“Ohsweetie.Youdowhatyouhave
todo.Nowgotobed.Youcantellmeallaboutitinthemorning.”
I’mstunned.“Okay.Thanks.CanyouletWillowknowwe’reback?”
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LaDonanods,butherattentionisalreadyoffofme.Ican’tbelieveit.Itaughtforthe
firsttimeonMachuPicchu.Wedidsomeamazinghealing.Wegotlockedinwith
llamas.Wehadtobribeourwaybackout.AndLaDona’snotmadaboutanyofthis.
Nowthisistoomuchformetoprocess.Igotobed.Whatanincredible,unbelievable
day.
YearslaterI’vemostlyforgottenaboutIannaandthellamaswhenshetracksme
downinanemail.“Ijustwanttothankyouforchangingmylife.Youwillnever
knowhowmuchitmeanttome.I’vebeenworkingonmyissuessinceIreturned
homeandhavecompletelytransformedallmyrelationshipsandmylifebecauseof
thetimespentinthattinytentwithyouandthoseamazingwomen.Thankyou.
Thankyou.Thankyou.”
Well,well.AmiraclecourtesyofMachuPicchu.
DarkForces
Personally,Peruhasbeenprettyfantastic.We’vefinishedourmulti-daystayin
MachuPicchuandloopedbackaroundtoCuscowherewe’llstayforanotherfew
nights,makingdaytripsfromhere.WehaveadayfreeinCuscotoshopandenjoy
themoretouristysights.It’sawelcomebreakfromallourspiritualdigging.The
sorocheandlock-innotwithstanding,I’mprettypumpedthatmyapprenticestick
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hasbrokenandIsnaggedmyfirstteachinggigonthispowerjourney.AndI’m
pleasedaspiethatunlikemyfirsttriptoMarzi,thistriphasnotbeenaboutthe
guys.I’vekeptmyattentionsolidlyonmyselfandmyprocess.Yetthroughoutitall,
there’sbeenanundercurrentoffunnyenergywithinthegroup.Andallthewarnings
aboutstickingwithapartnerhavebeenampedupnowthatwearebackinamajor
city.There’sdefinitelyanelementoffearpokingthrough.
Weheadoutintothecityinsmallgroups,circlebacktothehotel,headoutagain.
WepickupanEwok,dropoffanEwok.Wavehiaswepassteachersonthestreets.
Somethingisdefinitelyup.Icanfeelit.Whispershavebeenrunningrampantover
thepastfewdays.Someonealmostgotabducted…attackedwhiletheywereout…
Didyouheartheruckusthattheroomlastnight?Itsoundedlikesomeonewas
speakingintongues.Whogotleftatthelastsite?Andwhat?Apredictionofaplane
crash?TherearemumblingsabouthowdangerousEgyptisgoingtobe.Abattleof
thegodswillgodown.
Weretheserumorsorreal?Nooneknew.Atleastnoonenotintheknow.Astheday
turnstonight,therearemanysightingsofclusteredgroupsofteachers,brows
furrowedinthehallways,deepinhushedconversationsthatstoporaremoved
behindcloseddoorswhenastudentwalksby.“Serious”studentslikemyselfwere
privytoonlyatidbitortwoofmoreinformationoverheardwhenhangingoutwith
theteachers.Theagitationinthegroupincreases.What’sgoingon?Wasthegroup
beingattackedenergetically?Bywhom?Andwhy?
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Finally,LaDonagathersthegroupinthemeetingroomandgivesusasternand
somberlecture.Yes,oneofourgroupmembersgotintoacabbyherselfandwas
beaten.Gaspsflyaroundtheroom.Who?What?When?Where?Why??
LaDonatakeschargeoftheroom.Wecannoturgeyoustronglyenoughtofollowthe
ruleswehaveestablishedforyoursafetyandwellbeing.Travellinginthiscountryis
tobedonewithawarenessandcaution.Alltherumorsandspeculationneedsto
stop.Donotspreadgossipandfearthroughthegroup.Wewillsticktogether.Ifyou
areafraidorhaveapertinentquestion,cometalktoheroryourgroupleader.“AmI
makingmyselfclear?”LaDonaaskspointedly,fixingherformidableeyesoneachof
us.
Theroomisdeadlysilent.
Thetensionbuildsinthesilence.Ofcoursemindswanttoknowdetails,tofinger
overpossiblecausesandexplanations.Tobuildwallsofsafety.Thereisafineline
betweensquelchinggossipandfosteringmorefearfromlackofinformation.
Thereissomemuffledcryingthroughouttheroom.Severaloftheothersenior
teachersjumpintothelecture.Itturnstowardmoreesotericinterpretationsofthe
speculatedhappenings.Weareontheeveofanewcentury.Theforcesofgoodand
evilarebattling,bothwithineachofusaswellasplayingoutonthelargerstageof
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theworld.It’sabattleofthegods.Thedarkforcesarenojoke.Itisuptoeachofus
tochoosewhatwethink,whatwesay,howwerespond.Thisgrouphaspower.We
areattractingattention.Miowillleadusthroughwhatevercomesourway,butwe
muststicktogetherandchoosenottoampupthefearwithinourselvesorwith
others.
Andthereitis.I’mwatchingmyselfasifstandingacrosstheroom.Thepartofme
thathasbeensteppingintomypowerisjustforming,emerging.Thisbothexcites
andscaresme..Tobeusingmyintent,myheart,mywillinsideofmymind.Sonew.
Sounfamiliar.Tohavesomuchenergymovethroughme.Toseethatthisenergy
canbechanneledtoimpactpeople’slives.Toheal.Tohelptheplanet.Togain
awarenessmyself.
Thenthereisthedoubter.Sittingrightthere.Stillnotsureaboutthispath.Stillwary
ofthesepeople.Stillconfusedaboutwhatisgoingon–bothinactualhappenings
andintheenergeticsofthegroupandourprocesses.
Atinyseedofuncertaintygetsplanted.It’sdonesosubtlyandsoquicklythatIwon’t
reallydiscoverorseeitforyears.
Thereitis.Didyoucatchit?
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Thebeliefthatbeingashamanisscary.Shamansdealwithdarkforces.Badthings
happenwhenyouhavepower.Ifyoudon’tknowwhatyouaredoing,youcanopen
upsomewormholeandstepintosomeweirdinter-galacticbattlebetweenthe
forcesofgoodandevilwithoutevenknowingwhathityou.
IhaveenoughawarenessinthemomenttoseethatI’mscared.Butmyawareness
isn’tstrongenoughtoseetheunconscious,underlyingassumptionthatI’vemade.
Andisn’tthathowbeliefswork?
Sooftenwhatwebelievefeelssoinherentandingrainedinthewaywelookatthe
worldthatwecan’tevennameit.I’mnotloveable.I’mnotgoodenough.It’snot
okaytofeel.Thesebeliefsarelikethenoseattheendofourface.Justthere.Orthe
fishthatdoesn’tknowit’sswimminginwater.Theyarepartofthelandscape.And
ourinternallandscapeisfilledwithsomanybeliefsthatimpacthowweseethe
worldandmovethroughlife.
Idon’tknowthatnotallshamansworkprimarilywiththedarkelements.Someof
usareofthelight,lightworkers.Really,thereisnothingtobeafraidof.Light.
Idon’tknowthatIfearmyownpower.IfI’msopowerful,thenIamtruly
responsibleforeverycreationinmylife.Ifearreallylettingmylightshine.That
wouldmeanthatI’dhavetoletotherpeoplereallyseeme.Allmylifepeoplehave
praisedmeforbeinggoodataplethoraofsociallyacceptableactivities.Beingthe
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perfectionist,Ineverfeltworthyoftheirpraise.AndnowI’minvitingattentionto
myselftohavepeopleseemeinallmywoo-wooshamanglory.No.Idon’tthinkso.
Toodangerous.Tooscary.
TheShamanGirlseedoflightissuchaninherent,vitalwholeofme.It’smytruth.It’s
myvulnerabilityandmypower.Itwilltakesomuchcouragetoletthispartof
myselfreallyshine.Toinviteothersin.Toplay.
Anddon’tweallhavethatlightwithin?Thatsparkthatfeelssorawandrealand
scarytoletotherssee?Thecreativepart.Thecrazypart.Thezanypart.TheWappy
part.Themixed-uppart.Thewise,knowingpart.Thesparkthatmakesyouuniquely
you.Yourgifttoyourselfandtheworld.
Imakeanunconsciouschoice.Hide.It’smuchsafertohide.
I’mtoohookedbytheEwokwayoflifetohidecompletelyorrunaway.I’mnoteven
surewhatI’dberunningfrom–hearingaboutsomeoneelsewhodidn’tmakea
goodchoice?
Forthenextdecade,Iwillslowly,carefully,makemywayoutofmyhidey-holeuntil
Iamreadytodeclaretotheworld.IamShamanGirl.Iworkwithlight.
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Meanwhile…
Meanwhile,backattheranch,Iwasdesperatelytryingtonavigatelifeasabudding
ShamanGirlwhilemaintaininga9-5job.WhowasI?Ado-gooderworkingatahip
non-profitcommutingtoworkdaily?Oranout-therespiritualseeker?Arational,
logical,verythoughtfulperson?Orsomeonewhomightbelosingtheirmarbles?
Heck,Ididn’tevenknowwhatIlikedtoeatanymore.Orhowtodrivefrommyhome
toTita’s,whichIhaddoneamilliontimesbefore.
IarriveformysessionwithTitainapanic.Sheopensthedoor,fullygrounded,calm.
Astarkcontrasttomyagitatedstate.Walkingintoherhomeandherpresence
usuallyhasacalmingaffectonme.Asalways,shethrowsofftheperfectshaman
vibe–alittlemysteriousbutopenandwarm-hearted.Shehashersignaturejewelry
on–anartfulcollectionofsilverwithsomecoralandturquoisethrownin.Herhome
iswarmandinviting,withGuatemalantapestriesthrownoverthebacksofcouches
andpinnedtothewalls.Timeshouldbeslowingdown.Ishouldbebecomingmore
present.Butnottoday.
Ifeellikeananimatedcartooncharacterwithmyeyesbuggingout,andmyhead
spinninground.Sheinvitesmetositinherinfamouscomfybrownchair.Her
studentsknowitbyname:THEChair.Alazy-boythat’sseenandhearditall.Isitand
myfootstartsjiggling,anoldhabitfromcollegedayswhenIdranktoomany
caffeinatedbeveragesorjusthadtoomuchenergytoburn.
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Titasinksbackintoherchair.Beforeshecansayanything,Iburstintotears.
Shesitsandwaits.
Ifeelawkwardanduncomfortable.I’dlovetojumpoutofmyskin.It’snotlike
anythingbighashappened.Justsomanylittlebizarreinstances.IfeellikeIdon’t
knowmyselfanymore.Andtruthbetold,I’mnotsureifI’mgoingalittlecrazy.
Wheretobegin?
Mysobssubside.Iwipemynose.Okay.Icancalmdown.Icantalknormally.
“ThelasttimeIleftfromoursession,IwentanateaHAMBURGER!”Iamjaggedly
cryingagain.Thisnonsequiturstatementburstoutofme.
Titasmilesawrylittlesmile.Behindherrequestto“tellmemore,”Icanseeher
thinking,“Really?Youarethisupsetovergroundmeat?Let’sgoalittledeeper.”
“Ihaven’teatenredmeatinyears.Sincemydadusedtoservesteakeverynightfor
dinnerandIwentonprotest.Andthenafterourlastsession,Iwasravenousfora
hamburger…”Itrailoff.Noneofthisismakingsense.SincethenI’vebeena
vegetarianoffandonforyears,mostlyasitfitsmyconvenience.YetIsomehow
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pridemyselfonnoteatingredmeatonsomeun-namedprinciple.SpitingBazer?Or
notharminganimals.I’mnolongersure.
“HowcanIgiveupbeingavegetariannow,whenI’monaspiritualpath?Itseems
likeallspiritualseekersarevegetarians.”Asthispopsoutofmymouth,Iknowthis
issountrue.MiohimselfisquitethecarnivoreandthereareplentyofEwokswho
eatanythingandeverything.Still,Icontinue.“Shouldn’tIrespectalllife?”
Titaisapragmatist,andsoaccepting.“Thispathisn’taboutfollowingalistof
should’sorshouldn’ts,”sheremindsme.“Inthatmoment,yourbodycravedanimal
protein.Youcanhaveabeliefabouteatinganimalsandjudgeyourselfforit.Oryou
canhonoryourbody,amanifestationoflife,andgiveitwhatitneeds.Redmeatcan
beverygroundingandsustainingforyourbody,especiallywhenyouaredoingdeep
spiritualwork.”
Imunchonthisthoughtforamoment,thenletoutabigsighofrelief.Itdoesfeel
muchbettertoeatwhatIwantanditseemsthatsinceembarkingonthispath,I
wantmeat.Itrythisonforsize.Iamameat-eater.Ieatmeat.Weird,butIguessI
canhandlethis.
“Whatelse?”Titaprompts.
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Mythroattightensforamoment.Thissoundssostrangetome,I’mnotsureIwant
tosayittoher.Butthewordsarepushingtocomeoutandthetensioninmythroat
isalmostunbearable.“I’mhavingproblemsdriving!”Whoa.Iamallovertheplace.
“What’sgoingon?”Titaasks.
“Idon’tknow!”Thetearsarethreateningtospilloveragain.“I’llgetinmycarand
thinkaboutwhereIwanttogo,butthenIcan’trememberhowtogetthere.Ican’t
thinkitthrough.Liketoday,IwasalittlelatebecauseIforgothowtogethere.”I
lookupatherembarrassed.“HowcouldInotremember?Iwasjusthereafewdays
ago.SoIjuststartdriving.AsIdrove,Iknewwhatgeneraldirectiontotake…andI
recognizedafewplacesalongtheway…Icouldpictureaturnortwoupahead…but
itwassoweirdthatIcouldn’treallyremember….
ThensometimeswhenI’mdrivingalongonaroadthatI’vebeenonamilliontimes
before,Ikindofblankoutandcan’trememberwhereIam.Ihavenoidea.I’llkeep
drivingandeventuallyIpickupmytrail,butit’slikeI’vebeendroppedontoanother
planetforafewminutes.It’skindoffreaky.”
“That’sgreat!”Titahasanenormoussmileonherface.Huh?IjusttellherthatI’m
eithersufferingfromsortofearlyonsetAlzheimer’sormaybesomemilddementia
andshethinksthisisgreat?“Youareshiftingthewayyounavigatetheworld.
Insteadofrelyingsolelyonyourmind,youarestartingtodropintousingyour
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intuition,beingpresentinthemoment.Itonlyfeels‘freaky’becauseit’ssonew.But
Iassureyou,thismeansyouaremakingprogressonyourpath.”
Wow,thatcertainlyisadifferentpointofviewandnotatalltheoneIwasexpecting.
Okfine.Well,howaboutthis?
“EverytimeIpassagasstation?Orpullintopumpgas?Iseethepumpsexploding.
Theyjustburstintoflamesandthenthereismayhem.Youkeeptalkingaboutthe
powerofourmindandIdon’twanttomanifestthis.OrmaybeI’mseeingavision?I
needtogetgas,butperhapsIshouldstayawayfromgasstationsforawhile?”Take
that!Titacannotpossiblyrelatetothisone.Nowthat’sweird,right?Thiscouldbea
problemifmyshaman-ypowersblewupagasstation.
“Congratulationshoney!”
Nowshe’spissingmeoff.Congratulations?Whyisshecongratulatingme?Maybe
she’stheonewhohaslosthermind.
“Yourmindisaparasite.Itfeedsoffyouremotions.Ifitisusedtoadietoffearand
youstartfeedingitmoreandmorelove,it’sgoingtorebel.Throwatantrum.Your
mindisn’tgettingitsusualfearfixsoitneedstoconcoctmoreandmoredramatic
imagestogetyourattention.Seemslikeit’sdoingaprettygoodjob,huh?”
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Iamtryingtotakethisallin.“Soyou’resayingthisisagoodthing?”
“Yes!”Titalookscertainandperhapsabitproud.
Huh.
“Anythingelsebeforewegetstarted?”Ohyeah,Igotmore.Titalikestoworkina
hypnotherapeutictrancestatewithoutalotofstorytelling.ButI’mnotdoneyet.I
cankindofseeTita’spointsoneverythingI’vebroughtupsofar.It’sallbeeninmy
mind.Butthislastonewasreal.
“Igotintoacaraccident.”Idriftoffabit,remembering.Itwasnothingmajor,butI
stillfeelshaken.
“Whathappened?”Titaisthequeenofaskingopen-endedquestionsthatgetyouto
spillall.
“Iwasdrivinghomefromwork,onmywaytooneofTemple’syogaclasses,feeling
reallyintheflow.Thentrafficgotbackedupatanintersection.Ihadjustpulled
forwardwhenthelightturnedred.Ididn’tknowwhattodo.Ihesitated.”Idriftoff
again.Sincetheaccidenthappened,Ikeepdoingthat.
“And?”Titabringsmeback.
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“Iwaitedforthetraffictoclear…Iwasthinking,“ShouldIgo?”Iwasalittlestartled
tobecaughtwhereIwas.ButsinceIwasblockingtheway,Ipulledthrough.Aguy
comingfromtheoppositedirection,smackedintomycar.IfeltlikeIhadbeenhit
outoftheblue.Wepulledover.Heyelledatme,sayingitwasallmyfault.Ifeltbad
soIapologized.Maybeitwasmyfault,Idon’tknow.Iwasreallyshakenupandhim
yellingdidn’thelp.”
“Thenwhat?”
“IknewI’dbelatetoTemple’sbutthoughtthatwasthebestplacetogo.Idrove
thereinadaze.Feltbadforbeinglate.IdidalittleyogabeforeIwasshakingso
muchIhadtoliedown.ThenIrealizedIwaslookingatmybodyasifIwasonthe
ceiling.TemplecameovertomeandaskedmehowIwas.OfcourseIstarted
crying…andshehelpedmecalmdownfortherestoftheclass.”
“Okay,wecanworkwiththis.Closeyoureyes.”
Iwanttotalk,tellhermore,figureoutwho’sfaultitwas,butthisisnothowTita
workswhenthere’semotionorawound.Isighandfallbackintothewelcoming
armsofherchair.Ashakybreathortwo.
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“Good.”Shetakesmeintoatrancestate.Ifeelheavyandkindofsleepy.Icanhear
hertalking,asifhervoiceisfar,faraway.I’mrespondingonsomelevel,butnotwith
alotofwords.
Ijourneybacktothesceneoftheaccident.I’mhoveringabovemycar,observer-me.
Observer-meseesdriver-mecruisingalong,lostinthought.Aboutmyday.About
gettingtoclassontime.Iwanttocallouttomyself,“Payattention!Wakeup!”Pay
attention.Wakeup.Thosewordssticktome.
IseemyindecisionisbasedonnotbeingfullypresentasIpulledintothe
intersection.Imakeagarbleddecision.Idon’twanttoblocktheflowoftraffic.The
otherdriverswillbepissedatme,honking,loud.Iseemyflashoffear.Ihitthegas.
Crash.
Observer-mewatchesasmyspiritjumpsoutofthecar.Iturntolookovermy
shoulderandthereIamlookingatme,andnowwearelookingdownatthemethat
isleftinthecar.Confusing.Thedriver-meinthecarisnowgoingthroughthe
motionslikeazombie.Shedoesn’tunderstandwhathappenedonanylevel–the
actualcrashorspirit-mejumping.
Theothersmashingdriverjumpsoutofhiscarandstartsyelling.Ooooo.Don’tlike
theyelling.Spirit-medriftsalittlefartheraway.Getmeoutofthissituation.Myfear
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ofmakingsomeoneangryjustmanifested.IlookaboveMadMan’shead.Hisspirit
givesmeawink.Thisguywasitchingforanopportunitytogetmadallday.AndI
justgavehimtheperfectexcuse.Funnyhowthatworks…
Ihear,Fearmanifests.
ThesceneshiftstotheartgallerywhereTempleholdsherclasses.Templeisthere
nexttomybody,butsoisTita.Sheisholdingherhandsovermyheart,overmy
womb.Ooooo.Thatfeelsgood.I’mintrigued,soIfloatdowncloser.Titais
massagingmyshouldersandthebackofmyneck.Oh,that’sreallynice.Mybody
sighsandrelaxes.Iwanttotakepartinthat!Ijumpbackintomybody.Thatfeels
better.
“That’sright.That’sbetter,”IhearTitacroon.“Youwereoutofyourbodyandnow
you’reback.Everything’sokay.It’sfine.”
Idriftoffintoafuzzyspace.Oh,I’mtired.Andyawn,sleepy.IneedtorebootsoI
waftintoadeepsleep.
Iawaken,backinTita’sapartment.Itfeelslikelightyearslater.She’splaceda
snugglyblanketoverme.Ifeelfullyrefreshed,butverystill.Ilookaround.Tita’sno
longerinherchair.Istretch,notwaitingtobreakthisspell.Titacomesoverand
kissesmeontopofthehead.
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“Bettter?”
Inod.Iwanttosay,“Much,thankyou.”Butthewordsdonotcomeandaren’treally
necessary.
“Whydon’tyougetyourbearingsforafewminutes?”Inod.I’dlovetosnuggledown
intothisblanketforever,butit’stimetofeedmyself,getmehomeandintomyown
bed.Titagoesofftoputteraroundthehouseforafewminutesbeforeswingingback
aroundtocheckonme.
Shesitsonanottomananddrawsitupclosetomychair.Shelooksmedeepinmy
eyes,“Youarewakingup.Youareintransitionrightnow.Youarenotgoingcrazy.”I
smile.“Andyoucanliveinthisworld,”shemotionstotheroomaroundus,“andin
theinvisibleworld,theworldofthenagualatthesametime.Itjusttakessome
practice.You’llwanttobegentleandpatientwithyourself.”
Mydiagnosisof“notcrazy”isahugerelief,althoughItakeitwithagrainofsalt,
consideringthesource.Seriouslythough,IneedthereassurancethatIcanlivewith
onefootinbothworlds.Titaseemstobedoingit.Icantoo.
Titacontinues,“Whensomeonehasalotofcartroubleordreamsaboutcars,wesay
thattheirgovernorischanging.Acar’sgovernorregulatesthecar’stopspeed.A
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person’sgovernorregulateshowtheymovethroughtheworld.Youareshifting
frommovingthroughtheworldattopspeed,thinkingfast,doingfromyourwill.You
aremovingintonavigatingfromhere,”shepointstomyheart,“andhere,”shepoints
tomywomb.“Youaregoingtoneedtopayextraattentiontowhatyouaredoingat
thistime.Whenyougetinacar,makesureyouaregroundedandpresent.When
youareabouttoeat,checkinwithyourbody.Whateveryouaredoing,slowdown,
payattention.Wakeuptohowyouaremovingthroughouttheworld.Fear
manifests,butsodoeslove.Andyourdesireforloveisverystrong.Itwillwinout.”
Damn.HowdoesshehiteverymessagethatIheardinmytrance?Shepausesand
checkstoseeifIamtakingallofthisin.“Capiche?”
Inod.Yes,IthinkIdo.ButI’mnotsupposedtobethinkingaswell.OrI’mnot
supposedtobethinkingabout“supposedtobe.”Or…Iamconfusingmyself.
“Takeadeepbreath,”Titaremindsme.“Lotsofnice,deepgroundingbreaths.Good.
You’llbefine.”Shepatsmeknee.Mysessionisover.
Icollectmybelongingsandheadtomycar.AsIwalktomycar,Isilentlychantwith
everystep,“Wakeup,wakeup,wakeup.”Carrot-tophasadollwithafloppy,frizzyhairedheadthatchantsthesamewhenshaken.I’vecertainlybeenshakenandIso
wanttowakeup.IreviewwhatI’velearnedfromTita’ssession.Payattention.Love
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andfearmanifest.Stayinmybody.Breathe.Begentleandpatientwithmyself.Ithink
I’vegotit.
NowifIonlyknewhowtogethome.
Self-Medicating
Isitnervouslyinthepassenger’sseatofMadameExecutiveDirector’scar,tryingnot
tofidget.We’vejustcomefromanoff-sitemeetingwithboardmembersofInnerCityArtsandarecruisingthroughsomeraggedneighborhoodsonourwaybackto
SkidRow,ourhomebase.IamnowtheDevelopmentAssociateforInner-CityArts.I
havenorealexperienceinthisfieldsoIamwingingit,whichdoesnotsuitmy
previouslyperfectionistways.ButI’mbreakingoutofmycomfortzoneinallsortsof
wayswithMioandtheEwoks,sowhynotatwork?
IamsomewhatusedtoMadameExecutiveDirectorwithinthebeautifulconfinesof
ourartoasis.ButthisisthefirsttimeI’veeverbeenalonewithher,inclose
quarters,andhersilvery,hair,elegantjewelryandclassyclothes,whichareatotal
contrasttoourenvironmentandtomyoutdatedbusinesssuitthatI’vehadsince
highschool(rememberWappy’saspirationsforme?).MadameExecutiveDirector
exudesauthority,togetherness,andconfidence.Iadmirehergreatly.Dailyshe
coollywrestleswithdistrictsuperintendents,powerfulLosAngelesbusinessmen
whoaremajordonors(andafewbusinesswomentoo),astaffofhighlycreative
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artistswhoareunconventionalandnon-confirmingatbest,andthousandsof
studentsinadangerousneighborhoodwithbarelyenoughfunding.Oh,andit’s
highlyunpopulartobeteachingartrightnow.Testscoresareallthatmatters.
Somehowshedoesitallwithélanandgrace.
IshiftinmyseatandmyMedicineBag,whichIhavediscreetlyhiddenbeneathmy
oversizedjacketandshoulderpads,puddlesoutontotheseat.Ihavebeenpraying
thatnooneatICAseesorasksaboutMio’slatestteachingthatisstrappedtomy
bodyeverywakinghour.Thebag,whichwasboughtinPeruandismadeofrough,
somewhatscratchywoolindarkcolors,iswovenwithintricatepatterns.Thebag’s
notthatbig,slightlylongerthanatissuebox,butit’srawnessiscertainly
incongruousinabusinesssetting.IslingtheChiantiredcoloredstrapdiagonally
acrossmyshouldersothatitrestsabovemyhipandusuallyfallsabovemyjacket
line.Butnotthistime.
“What’sthatyou’rewearing?”MadameExecutiveDirectorinquires.“I’venoticed
thatyouweariteveryday.”
Fug,I’vebeencaught.AndIthoughtIwasbeingsosneaky.
MadameExecutiveDirectorissomewhatawarethatIaminlovewithTheFour
Agreements,buttalkingaboutmyemergingspiritualitywithherseemsoutlandish.
HowdoIexplainmyreasonforobeyingashaman’sedicttowearaMedicineBagno
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matterwhereIgo,withoutsoundingbrainwashed?Andhowtogiveasimple,
understandableversion?I’vebeengoingtoMedicineBagworkshopsattheGarden
oftheGoddessoverthepastfewmonthsandamstilltryingtomasterthemythology
andthemysteriesofthebag.
Idecidetostartsimpleandseewherethisgoes.“It’smyMedicineBag.”
MadameExecutiveDirector’shesitationissoslight,youalmostwouldn’tcatchit,but
I’monhyper-alert.“I’mnotfamiliarwiththat.Whydoyouwearit?Itseemslikeit’s
morethanapurse.”She’sjustgivenmetheeasywayout,butIlookoverathertotry
toassessifshe’sreallyinterestedorjustmakingconversation.Sheiskindandopenheartedandherinquiryseemsgenuinelycurious.Whattheheck,whynot?
“Longago,shamansworemedicinebagsandwithinthem,theycarriedallthe
medicineneededtohealmembersoftheirtribe.”DidIreallyjustsay‘shamans’to
MadameExecutiveDirector?I’mfeelingalittleidiotic.Itakeadeepbreath.“Mio
invitedustowearthemtoremindourselvesthatwecanhealourselves.Thatallof
thewisdomweneediswithin.”I’mfeelingthedesireforalittleself-medicationfor
mymortificationrightnow,thekindfoundinabottle,notinabag.
“Areyousick?”shelooksatmewithgenuineconcern.
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Ilaugh.“Maybesickinthehead,”Ijoke.Orjustcrazy,Ithink.“Thiskindofhealingis
forourmindsandhearts.Tohavethetoolstoletgoofbeliefsthatholdusback.”Am
Imakinganysense?IcheckintoseeifMadameExecutiveDirectorisstillwithme.
Seemstobe.Ipeteroutabit,“I’dliketolivemylifewithmoreawarenesssothebag
remindsmeofthisthroughouttheday.”
“Hmm,”shereplies.“Interesting.Canyougivemeanexample?”
InwardlyIgroan.Makingesotericteachingsapplicabletoeverydaylifeisa
challenge.Mioisamaster,butme?Justhangingintherebymyfingernails.
“Well,”Istall,tryingtocomeupwitharelatableexample.Onethatdoesn’tdelvetoo
deeplyintochildhoodwoundswouldbeagoodstart.“YouknowwhenIgot
flusteredatthemeeting?”Kent,oneoftheboardmemberswasgrillingmeon
expensesforanupcomingeventandIdidn’thaveallthenumbershandy.“Icould
feelmyselfgettingmadatmyselfbecauseIdidn’tfeelpreparedandIthought
everyonewouldthinkthatIwasn’tdoingagoodjob.Istartedtofeeldefensive.But
thenIcaughtmyselfandrealizedthatIcouldjustsay,‘Idon’thavethenumbers
withme,butI’dbehappytogetbackwithyou.’Thatawarenesskeptmefrom
gettingintoaconfrontation.Ithinkithelpedkeepthemeetingontrack.”
“Yes,”MadameExecutiveDirectorsaid,“Inoticedthat.Youhandledthatnicely.Kent
canbealittletrickytohandle.”
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Iswellupatherpraise.“Iguessthisisagoodexamplethen.AtfirstIwasthinking
thatIwasdoingabadjobandbelievedthistobetrue.Butbystoppingmyselfand
makingadifferentchoice,itresultedinyoujustcomplimentingme,thankyouby
theway.Iusedmy‘tool’ofawarenesstoovercomeathoughtthatwasn’treally
helpingthesituation.”
“SoyourMedicineBagdidthisforyou?”MadameExecutiveDirectorasks,witha
slightsmile.Ithinkshe’sbeingplayful,butI’mnottotallysure.
“Well,thebagisjustananalogy,areminder.Igettodoallthework.”
We’repullingintothegatedparkinglotofInner-CityArts.I’mrelieved.The
conversationhasn’tbeentoouncomfortableandI’vestayedawayfromsounding
completelywoo-woo,Ihope.AndIdidn’thavetoexplainthatmybaghasacoin
wrappedinsilkthatrepresentvariouslevelsofawareness,alongsideahandfulof
sacredtrinketsasstand-insformyselfandmyintegrity,universalarchetypesatplay
inmylife,andspecificrepresentationsofmystillmanywounds.Oh,no,thatwould
bewaytoomuchexplanation.
MadameExecutiveDirectorpullsintoaspot,turnsofftheengineandfacesme.“I’m
gladwehadthistimetotalk.YouareaveryinterestingpersonandIfeellikeIgotto
knowyoubetter.”
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NowI’msquirmingagain,butIdomanagea“thankyou.”“Well,Iguessit’stimeto
getbacktowork,”shesays.“You’rewelcometowearthatatwork,butyoumight
wanttoputitbackunderyourjacketatboardmeetings.”Shesayswithawinkas
sheclimbsoutofthecar.
TherearealotofartsyweirdoesaroundherebutIcatchherdrift.AShamanGirlin
themidstmightbetakingittoofar.AndIcountmyluckystarsthattheMedicineBag
wasMio’slatestfad.Itwasoneoftheeasiertricksuphissleevetoexplain.Miowas
amasterofhookinghisstudents’attentionandconcoctingcrazyexercises–and
mythologiestogowiththem-tohelphisstudentswakeup.Hebeganteachinga
bunchofrenegadesandmisfitsbackinthedarkages–beforetherewasayoga
studiooneverycornerandbeingspiritualwasin.Beforeanyonewouldhavebe
foolishenoughtowearaMedicineBagunderabusinesssuit.Teachinginsunny
SouthernCaliforniameantthathehadalotofcompetitionforhisstudents’
attentiveness–everysportunderthesun,tannedgorgeousbodies,Hollywood,you
nameit,sohegotcreative.Ialsosuspecttryingtogetpeoplewhoareenmeshedina
dreamoffeartowakeupandtakeresponsibilityfortheirlifegottiringsoIwouldn’t
besurprisedifhealsocreatedhis“homework”tokeephimselfamused.Ofcourseit
wasuptoyouifyouwantedtotryouthisteachings–ornot.
Whydidhisstudentsbuyintoit?
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Well,ifyouarereallyintentonwakingup,you’lltryalmostanything.Evenwearing
apouchfilledwithsticksandstoneshangingfromyourneckallday.Thentherewas
anunspokenformofpeerpressure–allthe“serious”studentsweredoingitand
whodoesn’twanttobepartofthe“in”group?Mostofthetimetheexerciseswere
fun–andtheyworked.
Butnotalways.
Inonefamousearlyexperiment,heinstructedhisstudentstonurtureakombucha
mushroom,waybeforeanyoneheardofgrabbingakombuchateadrinkatHoly
Foods.Kombuchamushroomsareverysensitivecreatures;theyneedjusttheright
balanceofyeast,bacteria,sugarandwatertostayalive.Youmustpayattentionto
themdailyforthemtothriveintoaslimyextraterrestriallookingfungus.Thenyou
drinkthejuice.Yum.WhatMioneglectedtotelleveryonewasthatmommy
kombucha’sgrowbabies-prolifically-whothenneedtobenurturedandgiven
away.Supposedlyitwasbadlucktokillorsellonesoakombuchapyramidscheme
emerged.ThankfullyImissedthosedaysandavoidedexplainingastinkymushroom
toMadameExecutiveDirector.
Unfortunately,Ididn’tmissoutonthe“strapamirrortoyourforehead.”Iwould
havehadtodrawthelinetherewhileworkingintheregular(albeitcreatively
tolerant)world.Withthemirrors,weweretostartathomeandthenwe’ddothisas
agroupexerciseatthenextworkshop.Thethinkingbehindthatone?Eachofusis
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dreamingthewayweseetheworld.Weeachhaveourownbeliefs,wounds,habits
thatcolorourperception.Wemaketheassumptionthateveryoneelseisdreaming
thesamewaytoo.Butno,no.Weeachseetheworlddifferently.Tohelpillustrate
thisconcept,Mioencouragedustoattachamirrortoourforeheads.Intheory,we’d
beabletoseeourreflectioninthemirrorandthiswould–voila-wakeusupsince
wenormallycan’twalkaroundseeingourownfaces.
Errr,okay?Ofcoursehedidn’texplainthedetailsofhowonemightgoaboutdoing
so,sotherewasalotofheadscratching.Let’sjustsaytapedoesNOTwork.AirMan
managedtodevisethemostsuccessfulversion–aheadbandriggedwithacompact
makeupmirror.Evenso,Mioforgottoaccountforthefactthattwopeopleof
differentheights–sayIIIandTitawhohaveagoodthreefootheightdifference
betweenthem–areneveralignedenoughtoseethemselvesineachother’smirrors.
Thefirstfewminutesofaninteractionwouldbeanawkwarddanceoftryingtoget
theanglesofthemirrorsrightandhavingtheminevitablyfalloffyourforehead
numeroustimes,followedbyhystericallaughter.Betterasananalogy,thatone.
Cometothinkofit,explainingtheMedicineBagwaslookingprettygood.Itwas
forcingmetocomeoutofhiding,justatitch,andadmitmyShamanGirl-nesstothe
world.Andinapinch,Icouldalwaysfibandsayitwasmypurse.
HathorRising
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TheEwoksareallatwitter.Andrightlyso.Alltheteachershavetheirbagspackedto
flytoEgypt,onatripofalifetime.VisitingtheGreatPyramidswithMioontheeveof
anewmillennium.Everybodywho’sanybodyhassignedup–andafewnobodies
too,whichirksmebecauseIfollowedtherules.Ifyouweren’tateacher,don’tsign
up.Theenergyisgoingtobetoointense.Don’ttakeonmorethanyoucanhandle.
Carrot-top,Q-tip,Temple,Tita,Manny,LaDona,donDon,Willow,Pink,Cloud,Yes
Doc,thelistgoeson.I’mannoyedthattheygettogo,butI’llbestayinghome.I
convenientlyneglecttoremindmyselfthatIdon’thavethefundstogoplaywiththe
EgyptianGods.
DepartureiswithindayswhenEgyptAirFlight990goesdownintothechillywaters
offthecoastofNantucket,notlongaftertakingofffromNewYorkforCairo.All217
onboardaredead.It’salloverthenews.Nooneisclearifitwasamechanicalfailure
oranintentionalcrash.TheEwoksarebookedonthesameflight,justadayorso
later.Willthetripstillhappen?Isthisthebeginningofthe“war?”Isitawarningor
threatmadetowardMio?Andthefreakiestofall–whataboutthepredictionofan
upcomingplacecrashwhenthegroupwasinPeru?
Isuddenlyamalittlehappieraboutmychoice,quiteworriedaboutmyfellow
EwokswhoIhavecometolove,andsaddenaboutthepeopleonFlight990.
Aftermuchdeliberationandmanyphonecalls,thetripison.Inhalf-jest,Iam
informedthatifthe“senior”generationteachersdon’tcomeback,thencarryon.
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RallythetroopsandkeepEwoking.Notamusing.Iprayfortheirsafereturn–both
outofmyloveforthem,andselfishlybecauseIneedthemtokeepguidingme
towardmyfreedom.IfeellikeI’mjustgettingstartedandmylifeisjuststartingto
changeforthebetter.Comeback.Please.
Thetripisharsh.Wakeupcallsarebeforethecrackofdawnsothegroupcanarrive
atthepyramidsandenterthesacredchambersbeforetouristsarrive.Safetyisan
issuesoarmedbodyguardstravelwiththem.Pinkreceivedmultipleoffersfor
marriage,whichwashumorousatfirstbutbecamescaryasmenwouldfighttoget
nearher.HerblondeblondehairandbuxomfigurewerereveredinEgypt.Shewasa
livinggoddessintheeyesofthemen.ManygoatswhereofferedtoMioinexchange
forherhand.Noonewantstomissoutonanyofthegreatsites,ortheincredible
energy,sodaysarelonganddistancesbetweenoutingsvast.Lotsofhotelchanges.
Theconditionsweregrueling.
WhiletheEwoksaresittinginthecenteroftheGreatPyramids,floatingdownthe
Nile,andridingoncamels,EgyptianGodsareinvadingmynighttimedreams.The
strongestdreamstartedbeforetheyleft.AnEgyptianeye,stylizedandpaintedwith
darkkohlwouldappear.Iwoulddisappearthroughit.Fragmentsofadiskthat
lookedlikeasun.Animalhorns.Asenseoffemininepower.Blood.Afight.ThenI
wouldwakemyselfup,gaspingforbreath,sweaty.
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Ididnotunderstandthesedreamsandtheyhauntedmeintheday.Otherthanthe
eye,IdidnotmakeaconnectiontoEgypt.ButIwouldcatchmyselfstaringoffinto
space,thesameeyehoveringinmymind’seye.Finally,IaskedTitawhatshe
thoughttheymeant.Shelovedtoanalyzedreams.AsIstruggledtoputtheimages
intowords,sheclosedhereyes,tappingintothatunnamedplace.“Youare
dreamingEgypt.EgyptianGoddess.Hathor.Sekhmet.”Shemightaswellbespeaking
inSwahili.MyknowledgeofEgyptianGodswasconfinedtoaunitfrommiddle
schoollongforgotten.“Hathorwasthemothergoddess.Royalty.Butshealsowasa
warriorgoddesswhotransformedintoSekhmet,awargoddess.Shewasthe
goddessoflove,butalsoinchargeofwelcomingthedeadtotheafterlife.Interesting
thatyou’redreamingthisway.”Yep,interestingalright.
Thedreamsintensifiedassoonasthegroupleft.Sometimestherewouldbe
hieroglyphicsthatcametolife.Inothers,justasenseofpushandpullbetween
energies.YeteverytimeI’dawakewiththemessage,“HathorRising.”AtfirstI
dismissedthisasareferencetothenameofthetouroperatorwhowasrunningthe
EwokEgypttrip.Butitkeptlingering,soIsetmyintenteachnightbeforebedtobe
givenmoreinformationinthedreamstate.Onthevergeofwakingup,I’d
remember.ButbythetimeIregainedfullconsciousness,theunderstandingwould
slipawayagain.
Then,inoneofmyeyefloatingintheairbeforemestaringoffintospacejags,I
knew.Hathorwasrising.Thefemininegoddessenergywasmakingacomebackin
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theworld.Gentleness.Compassion.Emotionhonored.Family.Orientedtoward
relationships.Intuitive.Cooperative.Creatingconsensusincommunity.Careforthe
earth.
Yetthemoremasculineenergy,whichhadbeeninpowerforcenturies,wouldnot
godownwithoutafight.Rational.Active.Assertive.Aggressive.Courageous.
Ambitious.Competitive.OutwardOriented.Individualistic.Self-Reliant.
Adventurous.WillingToTakeRisks.
Icouldfeelthebattlealreadyinsideofme.Mylogicalsidewasconstantlytryingto
discreditmyintuitiveside.Myambitionanddesiretobesuccessfulwasoftenat
oddswithmycravingquiet,inwardtime.Forjustbeing,notdoing.Justreceiving
thisinformationinadreamwasasurewaytocreateanotherskirmishinsideofme.
Wasthisreallywhatmydreamsmeant?HowcouldIknowaboutEgyptiangods
whenIdidn’tknowanythingaboutthem?
Iknewbynowtoallowthethoughtsandbreathe.Idroppeddeeperintomytranced
outstateandsawtheendresult.Itwasn’tabattleoffemininevs.masculine.Itwas
aboutbalance.Howtohonoreachenergyforwhatitdoesbest,initsownrighttime.
Whatavisionforthisworld.
Forthetwoweeksthattheyweredone,IfeltlikeapartofmewasinEgypt,even
thoughmyphysicalbodyremainedinLosAngeles.Ihadtoslowdown.Therewere
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manytimesoverthecourseofthepowerjourneywhenI’dawakeninthemiddleof
thenight,orhavestrongsensationsinthemiddleoftheday.WhentheEwoks
returnedandwecomparednotes,thetimesalignedwithwhentheyweredoing
powerfulceremonies.Wild.Mostofthetime,Ifeltanuneasiness,arupturingwithin
thatIdidn’tunderstanduntilthegroupcamehome.Somethingbigwasgoingdown.
WhenIcheckedinwiththeotherplebeianswhostayedbehind,theyreported
equallyperplexingdreams,visions,andinexplicablesensations.Huh.
EveryonebreathedacollectivesighofreliefwhentheEwoksreturnedtothelandof
sunshine.Ofcourseallofuswhostayedherewantedtohearthedownload.What
thehellhappenedoverthere?Wegathered.Itwaslikeamitoteinthemiddleofthe
day.Everyonetalkingatonce.Givingtheirtakeonthecrazytrip.
Theendofa52-yearcycle.Nomorehierarchy.LaDonawasnolongerthenagual
woman.YesDochasbeengivenamission.Dreaming.
???
Iscurriedfromgrouptogroup,pickingupallthepieces.Miolovedusingtheancient
Ewokmythologyabout52-yearcycles.Inancienttimes,theEwokswoulddestroyall
thestructuresintheirsocietyonceevery52yearstomakesurenoonegainedtoo
muchpowerorbecomingtoenamoredwithonewayoflookingattheworld.By
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consciouslychoosingtoallowtheoldtodie,newlifecouldbereborn,better,more
aware,stronger.
Sincethelighthadspeededupsinceancienttimes,thecycleswerenaturallyshorter.
AndofcourseMiodidn’thavethetimeorpatiencetowaitaroundfor52yearsso
thesecycleswouldhappeneveryfewyears,sometimeseveryfewmonths.
Mythologiesandteachingsweremeanttoincreaseawareness,notholdushostage.
Onemythologywouldbein,thenclearedout.Onegroupofpeoplewouldbeinthe
innercircle,thenitwasanewgroup’sturn.Itwasabrilliantwaytokeepeachofus
evolvingandkeepthegroupengagedaswell.Apparently,thistime,thegigwasup.
Itwastimeforamajorspringcleaning.
Forthepastfewyears,thenagualman/nagualwomanmythologyhadreigned.Mio
was,naturally,thenagualman.IflashbacktothefirsttimeIheardMioexplain
aboutthenagual.Somepeoplearebornnaguals,butallofushavethepotentialto
beone:connectedtospiritandaspiritualleader.IntheEwokworldonthevergeof
anewmillennium,thenagualwomanwasMio’sdesignatedmainfemaleteaching
partnerwhoheldthefeminineenergyforthegroup.Sometimesthenagualwoman
alsohelpedintherunning/coordinationofhiseventsandworkshops.Eitherway,
thenagualwomanwaspowerful.Itwasamuch-covetedposition.Onoccasion,Mio
woulddesignateanewnagualwoman.Whichcouldeitherbeawelcomereliefto
stepoutofthespotlightandalltheintensityoflivinginMio’sworld,orahugeblow
toanego.Therewasnoexplanationforwhythepostwouldchange.Itwasthought
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becausetheenergychangedorbecauseawomaninthetribehadreachedanew
heightenedlevelofawareness.
Overtime,yep,youguessedit,thenagualevenchangedthenagualstructure.Fora
time,therewasonenagualwomanwhowasTHEnagualwoman,andthree
additionalnagualwomen,onetoroundouteachdirection,North,South,Eastand
West.ThenMiobegannamingnagualmen,whohadalsosteppedintotheirpower.
Thenagualwomenandnagualmen(whowereallteachers)startingnaming
nagualsintheirgroupsofstudents.Itwasabitambiguous,butquitemotivating.
Secretlyeveryonewantedtobenamedanagual,whetherthey’dadmititornot.
Andnow?Thenagualsystemwasover.LaDonawasout.Ouch.Myhearthurtfor
her.YesDochadbeengivenpermissiontogatheragroupforDreaming.
Dreaming?Whatwasthat?
MadreEvehadtaughtDreamingtoMioyearsago.Itwasthemostadvancedand
guardedwisdomfromtheEwoklineage.Onlythemostdedicatedstudentswouldbe
accepted.ItwaslikegoingtoEwokgraduateschool.Noonecoulddefinitivelysay
whatDreamingwas,expectforitwasgoingtobepowerfulandintense.Supposedly
Dreamingrevealedhowthehumanmind,bodyandspiritworkedandhowto
masteryourdream.IfyouwereinterestedinDreaming,youwouldhavetoapply
andbeaccepted.Therewouldbenotoleranceforexcuses,stories,orslackers.
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Therub?Nomorenaguals.Everyonewouldbeequal.Nohierarchy,noinnercircle.
JustDreaming.NomoreMedicineBagorotherworkshops,soifyouwantedtokeep
studyingwithMio(otherthanseeinghimatbooksigningsorone-nightlectures),
thenDreamingwasit.AllEwokstudents,whethertheywerestudyingdirectlywith
Mioornot,wouldstudyDreamingdirectlywithhim.Forstudents,thiswasgreat
news.WhileMiowouldoccasionallycometolocalworkshops,mostofusstudied
underalocalteachersothiswouldbemoreexposuretoMiohimself.Butfor
teachersandnaguals,thiswasahugeblow.Notonlywheretheybeingnow
consideredequalstoeveryoneinthegroup,buttheywerealsopotentiallylosing
students.
Oh,andtheprogramwouldmeetoneweekendamonthfor3years.Youhadto
committotheentireprocessandtherewouldonlybeoneexcusedabsenceperyear.
Thenyou’reout.
Gulp.
Howdidthiscomeabout?Toomuchself-importancewasthenumberoneanswer.
ToomuchI’mhigher/betterthanyougoingoninthegroup.Butitwasalsodueto
thetenacityandvisionofYesDoc.YesDocaskedMiothreetimesintherightpower
setting,attherighttime(asacredmagicnumberthatMiowassaidtobepowerless
against).IfYesDocwouldcomeupwith25peoplewhowerewillingtocommitto
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Dreaming,thenhe’dteachit.Applicationswouldbeavailableimmediately.
Dreamingwouldofficiallystartnextyear,inthebeginningof2000.Buttokickoff
themillenniumwithabangandstirupinterestinDreaming,Miowasofferingan
IntrotoDreamingworkshopoverY2KweekendathisranchontheoutskirtsofSan
Diego,whichalsoactedasaretreatcenter.Anewbeginning,anewcycle,anew
millennium.
WasIgoingtoapply?
Gulp.
Definitely.Ithink?Youbet.
HowhadIgottensotangledupwiththesecrazies?AndwhywasIsoexcited–and
scared–aboutDreaming?
Bigexhale.
TheEwokshadgonetoEgypt,ranaroundsomepyramids,camehome,andchanged
thenextdecadeofmylife.
ManifestingMoney
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MymindrunsincirclesaboutapplyingtoDreaming.ShouldIrushthroughsending
inmyapplicationincaseitturnsouttobefirstapplied,firstaccepted?OrshouldI
bethoughtfulandthoroughinlistingallmyqualificationsandansweringallthe
essays?WillIbeaccepted?WillgoingtoDreamingmeanthatTitaisnolongermy
teacher?HowwillIpayforthis?AndcanItakethetimeoffofworktobeinSan
Diegoonceamonth,byFridayat5pm?RRRRrrrrrr.Themindspins.
Yetbeneathallthequestionsisacertainty.IwanttobeaDreamermorethanIhave
wantedanythinginmylife.Everythingwithinmybeingissaying,“Yes!Goforit!”
evenasmymindplaysitsusualantics.TheDreamingapplicationfeelsmore
importantthantheonesIsubmittedtoYaleandPrincetonandHarvard.Thisis
graduateschoolformybody,mind,andspiritandIknowitisgoingtoimpactthe
restofmyentirelife.
ItakeallmywhirlwindofworriestoTita.IhavesortedoutthatIwanttoapply,and
realizethatinapplyingIwillfindoutifIamacceptedornot.ButIhavegreatdoubts
aboutbeingabletoaffordthe3-year,workshopseverymonthwithpowerjourneys
toMarzitoboot,program.AsIpouroutmyconcerns,fillingin“evidence”ofhowthe
numbersjustdon’taddup,Titabecomesverystill.
“Whenyoudesire,withthewholeofyourbeing,theuniversewillsupportyouin
findingawaytomakeithappen.Setyourintent.Havefaith.Committingtoa
programlikeDreamingwillbeagreatlessoninmanifestationforyou.”
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Nowitismyturntobequiet.Whatshejustspokesoundedlovely.Butdidn’tshe
hearwhatIsaidabouthowmuchIwasmakingversushowmuchDreamingcost?I
tryagain,speakingmoreslowlyandclearly.Asanaccountant’sdaughter,I
understandhownumbersaddup.Income–Expenses=WhatYouHavetoLiveOn.
PerhapsTitaisjusttoofarouttheretogrokthis?
Titasmilesmeandsaysquietly,“Thereareinfinitewaystocreatefinancial
abundanceandbringinmoreincome.”
What?!?Iflushwithanger.Iworkhard,longhoursatafull-timejob!Ibustmybutt
todogoodforlotsofchildren!“There’snowayIcangetanotherjob!”Iprotest
hotly.Howcouldsheevensuggestsuchathing?
“That’snotwhatIsaid,butperhapsit’swhatyouheard,”sherespondscoyly.I
backtrackquickly.“Yes,”Ithinktomyself,“Shesaidtherearemanywaystoearn
moreincome.”Ispeakwithcertainty,“ButyousaidthatIshouldearnmoreincome
andI’malreadyworkingfull-time.”
“Isworkingfull-time,ortakingonanotherjob,theonlywaytoearnincome?”
Thisquestionstopsmeinmytracks.Myfirstresponseisyes,nummy,but
somethingwithinmeisn’tentirelycertain.Ithinkthisthrough.WappyandBazer
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havetheirownbusiness,onethattheyputinlonghoursattheoffice.Inmyworld,
thisishowyoumakemoney.Youhaveanine-to-five(plus)job,maybeyouareyour
ownbosswithalittleextraflexibility,butstill,thewayyousurviveisthrougha
regularpaycheck.Andthen,pop,Iseemybeliefsaboutmoney.Inmymind,thereis
nootherwayformoneytocomeintomylifeotherthanregularpaychecks.A
limitation.
IhavenoticedthatmostEwokswhohavebeenstudyingwithMioforanylengthof
timedidnotseemtohave“regular”jobs.Therearehealersandtherapistswhowork
fromtheirhomesasmuchoraslittleastheydesire.Therearetrustfundbabies.
Therearesomewhocouchsurfandpickupoddjobshereandthere.Thereare
consultantswhoworkprojectbyproject.WhileIcouldn’tseemyselfbeingso
footlooseandfancy-free,Ihavetoadmitthatthereareotherwaystoearnincome.
Notthatthishelpsmeany,asIdon’tseeadrastic,moreabundantandmoreflexible
careerchangehappeninginthenextfewmonths.
“Okay,”Isayslowly.“Canyougivemeanexampleofanotherwaytobringin
income?”Forthelifeofme,Icouldnotthinkofasingleplausibleideabeyonda
careeroverhaul.
“Well,someonemightgiftyousomemoney.”
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“Yeahright!”I’msilentlythinking.Ihavenorichrelatives.Titacanseetheskeptical
lookinmyeye.“Canyouatleastbeopentothatpossibility?”Isigh.Isupposeshe’s
right.Itwouldbelovely,althoughIstillthinkunlikely,forthattohappen.
“Youcouldaskforaraise.Youcantradeforyourservices.Youcouldgetatax
refund.Thereareendlessways.”
“Alright,fine.”Ithinkgrumpilytomyself.“Maybethere’sapossibilitythatmoney
couldcometomeinanotherformorfromanunlikelysource.”
“Ifyouallowyourselftoentertainthepossibility,thenabundancecanstarttoflow
intoyourlife.I’vehadmoneycometomeinallsortsofunexpectedwaysbecauseI
nolongerbelievethatIhavetoearnmoneyinjustonewayorjustfromapaycheck.”
She’sstartingtomakealittlemoresensethanIoriginallygavehercreditfor.
“Youhaveafewmonthstofigurethisout.Whydon’tyoustartwithanintentto
manifestsmalleritemsandgifts?Growyourfaith.Ifyoursoulreallydesirestogoto
Dreaming,theuniversewillconspiretomakeithappen.”
IfeelsomewhatbetteraboutmakingDreamingpossible,eventhoughIstillhave
absolutelynoideahowthiswillhappen.
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Isendinmyapplication,signupfortheIntrotoDreamingY2KWorkshop.Ifnothing
else,itwillbearathersafeplacetohideoutfromthepredictedchaosforthe
weekend.DeeDee,oneofMio’steachers,hadbeenstockingtheplacewithsurvival
suppliesformonthsincauseallhellbrokeloseintheworld.Itrynottostressabout
acceptanceorpayments.ThenIturnmyattentiontomoreimportantmatters:my
upcomingChristmasbash.
Iamfinallylivingonmyown,allbymyself,andfeelinglikearealadultsoIdecideto
throwmyfirstadultholidaypartytocelebrate.Itfeelslikeacomingintomyown
party.AfinallyoverMexicanManfiesta.AnIcanhavefunfornoreasonblast.I
inviteamixofhipInner-CityartistsandmyEwokfriends.Iplanthenoshesand
booze.AndIwanttofindtheperfectoutfit.
Tightblackhotpants.Check.Stylishshimmerysilvershirt.Check.Allthatwas
missingwasalittlepanachetosayfestiveholidaywithoutlookingtoocheesy
Christmas-y.Idecidetheperfecttouchwouldbeared,silver,andblackscarf.
Preferablysilkplease.
Girlfriendscalltoconsultonwhattowear.Festivechic.Dressycas.ButIrefuseto
divulgetoanyonewhatIamwearing.I’malittleembarrassedtoadmitthatIam
planningonwearingclothesthataresignificantlytighterandsexierthanInormally
wear.Plus,Ifigurethegrandensemblewillmakemoreimpactifitisasurprise.Va-
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voom.SoIkeepmymouthshut.WhichdidnothelpmysearchonebitasIwasquite
inexperiencedintheL.A.shoppingworld.
IbeginmyhuntinwhatIconsidertobethemostlogicalplace-departmentstores.
Nada.Iexpandtoretailstoresandsecond-handshops.Nope.Iamdeterminedto
findtheexactlyrightscarftocompletemydreamlook.Butnoluck.WhatamIdoing
wrong?Ireally,really,reallywantthisscarf.Okay,maybeitisn’tasouldesire,butI
dowantitprettybad.MaybeIjustneedtotryalittleharder.Thedaysaretickingoff
inthecountdowntomyparty.Stillnoluck.TonsofRSVPs.MaybeIshouldjustgive
uponfindingthiselusivescarf?Ihavespentwaytoomuchtimeobsessingoverit
anyways.
Theverynextday,asilkred,black,andsilverscarfappearsinmyinboxatwork.AsI
pullitout,mymouthhangsopenindisbelief.ThisisexactlythescarfIhavebeen
dreamingof.Elegant,chic.Anabstractpaisley-ishpatternthathasbothboldness
andfinerdetails.Irubittomycheek.Itisluxuriousandsosoft.
IlookaroundtoseeifIamoncandidcamera.Howwasthispossible?Iturnthescarf
overtoseeifthereisanoteorclueastowhereitcamefrom.Nothing.Sincenoone
knewofmydesire,howdidthisscarfendupinmymailbox.Atworknoless.And
whoputitthere?
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IntheSkywithDiamonds!Ithastobeagiftfromher.Irundownthehallwaytomy
assistant’scubby.Thislookslikejustthekindofscarfshewouldwear.Maybeshe
gaveittome?Itwouldbesolikehernottothinktoleaveanote.Ispilloutmywhole
storyandwithashakeofherhead,shesays,nope.She’snotmyfairygodmother.
Butshepromisesthatshe’llgettothebottomofthismysterywithme.Shedabsin
theesoterictoo,soshe’sasintriguedasIaminmyapparentspontaneous
manifestation.
Forthenextfewdays,IntheSkywithDiamondsandIpestereachandeveryperson
intheofficeaboutthescarf.Eachswearstheyhadnothingtodowithitandarea
littletakenabackatthevehemenceofourobsessiveinquiry.Alas,thereisno
explanationorculpritthatIcandiscern.
Attheparty,Iwearthescarfwithjauntyprideandtellanyonewhowilllistenthe
storyofitsmysteriousorigin.WhenTitaoverhearsmebragging,shegrabsmyarm.
“Congratulations!Youdidit.”Iammomentarilyconfused.AlthoughIamproudthat
Ifoundmyscarfviamysteryinmymailbox,Idon’tconsidermyselftohave“done”
anything.“Youmanifestedadesire!”Titahugsmeandthenlooksatmeknowingly.
“Ifyoucanmanifestsomethingasspecificasared,black,andsilverscarf,thenyou
canmanifestanything–includingthemoneyyouneedforDreaming.”
Touché,smallwiseone,Touché.
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Thepartyisaragingsuccess.IamacceptedtoDreaming(prettymucheveryoneis
acceptedtoDreamingasYesDocneedsallthewarmbodiesshecanget.)Andthe
moneysomehowappearsmonthlytopayforDreaming…UntilIstarttrading
logisticalandregistrationhelpinexchangeforattendingtheweekends…Andthen
finally,yearslater,Inolongerneedtopay,asitbecomesincludedaspartofmy
salarywhenIstartworkingfull-timeforMio.Yes,indeed,thereareinfinitewaysto
manifestmoney.
Dreamtime
Miodoesnotsurpriseeasily,buthisastonishedpleasureisevidentashelooks
aroundtheroom.YesDocpulledoffamiracle.Thereareover30ofuswhohave
saidyes,towhatwearenotexactlysure,butwehavetakentheleapoffaithandwill
bespendingcountlesshourssittinginourchairstogetheratDreaming.While
Dreamingwillnotofficiallystartforanotherfewmonths,wearehereatMio’sranch
ontheeveofanewmillenniumtosamplewhatweareinfor.Thereisquiteabuzzin
theair,betweentheanticipationofY2Kandwhatthatmightunleash,alongwiththe
energycoalescingforDreaming.
Ilookaroundtheroommyselftoseewhohasagreedtothisjourneywithme:Tita,
Manny,Temple,DonDon,Lini,MilitaryMan,Airman.Ialsotakeinwhohasnot:La
Dona,Willow,Pink,Cloud.Myheartfeelsheavyattheschism.Iwanteveryoneto
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come,play,andembarkonthisnewphasetogether.Buttoeachtheirown.We
respecteachperson’sindividualanduniquepath.Eventhoughitsucks.
MioislayingdownthefoundationofDreaming.Commitment.Noexcuses.No
stories.Noparasites.Allofthissoundsdoableintheory.Thenweattemptourfirst
sittinginourchairs.
WearetositliketheEgyptianstatues.Feetonthefloor,backstraight,armsresting
onourthighs.Wearenottomoveamuscle.Notone.Notforanitch.NotifMiotries
totickleuswithapeacockfeather.Notforbugs.Notoutofboredom.Wearenotto
openoureyes.Well,maybewecouldpeekormoveifthereisalegitimateragingfire
intheroom.Butourmindwouldprobablybeplayingatrickonus,sobestnotto
moveinthatsituationeither.Sowesit.Westillourbodiesinordertohearourmind
moreclearly,toopenapathwayforemotion,torememberourdivinity.
Allthistalkofsittingmakesmejumpy.ItakeadeepbreathandremindmyselfwhyI
amhere.IwanttoknowthetruthofwhoIam.Iwanttoembodymyselfaslight,
love,spirit.IdesperatelywanttoletgoofwhoIthinkIshouldbe.Iwanthappiness.
Peace.Passion.Purpose.Success.Idon’tknowifanyofthisispossible,butIam
willingtositstilltofindout.Asmallsacrificetopay,right?Ihope?
I hardly recognize myself. Who is this crazy lady who signed up for this
weirdness? I used to be an All-American overachiever, with aspirations for
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a nice, normal life. Now I am sitting on the outer edges of the known
universe with a bunch of equally unique souls, exploring shaman time and
space. I have to regularly fight the urge to run. I'm here only because the
call from deep within me is demanding that I be here, now, about to sit
still. Besides, how much harm can be done sitting in a chair quietly?
Webegin.Wewillstartforapettyhour.Eventuallywewillsitinstillness,insilence,
orwhatmayappeartobestillnessandsilenceontheoutside,whilewithinweare
raging,forhoursandhoursonend.AftersomesquigglingtofindwhatIhopeisthe
exactrightsweetspot,thefirsttwoorthreeminutesarepleasurable.It’sareliefto
justsitandbestill.Thenthetorturebegins.
Ineedtoscratchmynoseintheworstway,butIdonot.Theitchgrowsstrongerthe
moreIfocusonit.Ihavetouseeveryounceofmywillnottomovemyhand.ThenI
rememberthatIamsupposedlyincontrolofmyattention,soIfocusonmybreath
instead.Thisworksforabout30secondsbeforetheitchhasgrowntomonstrous
proportions.WhatwillhappenifIscratchit?WillIgetkickedout?WillMioeven
see?Iamobsessedwiththisitch.Itiskillingme.
Nottomentionmyback.Astabbing,searingpainrightbehindmyheart.Doesit
countasmovingifIstretchmyspine?Situpstraighterorslumpslightly?Howhas
anyoneevermeditatedthroughthisexcruciatingbackpain?ThenIforgotaboutmy
backandambacktotheitch.
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Nowtheitchismoving,travellingupanddownthelengthofmynose.Iam
convincedthatit’sabug.There’sabugcrawlingallovermyface!Iamutterly
convinced.Ofthebug.Oftheneedtoscratch.Thenanothervoicechimesin.Really?
Youcan’tevensitherefor5minutesandyou’vesignedupfor3yearsofthis?Ha!
YouaregoingDOWN.
Thisgetsmyattention.TheBigMeanyvoicecackles.ItproceedstotellmewhyIam
aspiritualwannabe,afailure,apretender.HowI’mnotgoodenoughtoeven
attemptDreaming.WhodidIthinkIwas?Prettystupidforsigningupforthis
nonsense.Whowouldvoluntarilydothisanyway?Itdronesonandon.
TheitchandthebackpainbecomeinconsequentialinthatfaceoftheBigMeany.It’s
muchmoretorturoustohearthisvoiceinmyheadthanitistofeelsomepaltry
itchinessoralittleachydiscomfort.Icouldsolveanitchwithafewquickupand
downmotionswithmyfingernailsoragoodchiropractor.TheBigMeanyhowever,
isnotgoingtodisappearquitesofast.
Andthen…awareness.
TheBigMeanyiswhyI’mhere.IamheretoheartheBigMeany.Tositwithherand
acceptthatshe’spartofme.Tolovehertodeath.Toseewhatexistsbeyondher
triflingsmallness.
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Forafewgloriousmoments,Iamcalm.Expanded.Inbliss.
Andthentheitchstartsalloveragain.AnddidImentionmybackpainyet?
ThankfullyImakeitthroughthefirstofwhatwillliterallyandcumulativelybe
monthsofsittingandDreaming.ItismiraculousandmostlyI’mgratefulthatit’s
over.
Hourslaterwe’vemovedontoanotherexercise.Thistimeweareinvitedtolayon
ourbacksontheground,withourarmscrossedandfoldedaroundournecks,soour
handsrestonourshoulders,imitatingtheburialpositionoftheancientEgyptians
pharaohs.Ah,muchbetter.Mybodyfeelsapowerandancientmemoryinthis
position.
Asthehoursuntilthenewmillenniumarecountingdown,Mioinstructstogoinside
anotherperson’sdream,toexperiencetheworldthewaytheydo.Betheperson,be
insidetheirbodyandmind.ButDONOTtouchanythingwithinthem.Berespectful.
Donottrytorearrangetheirbeliefsortheirdream.Justobserve.Becompassionate.
Ifwearesuccessful,wewillunderstandthepowerofdreaming.Notjustinthe
abilitytoperformthisfeat,butinbeingabletostepoutsideofourbeliefsthatwe
holdsodearandseehowanotherpersondreamsinacompletelydifferentway.Mio
willholdthespaceforustojourney.
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WecancreateaportaltoenterDreamingbyenvisioninganEgyptianeyehovering
infrontofus.Ifwestareintotheeyeandletgo,wewillslipintotheDreaming
space.Go!Andremember,DONOTTOUCH.
Ilaywithmyeyesclosedforalong,longwhile.Thisiscrazy.I’msupposetogo
insideofsomeoneelse’sheadandbody?Idon’tknowhowtodothat.Idon’teven
thinkit’spossible.AndwhatifIcan’tgetback?WhatifImessupandaccidently
rearrangesomethingwithinthem?IfeellikeI’veenteredaweirdsciencefiction
movieandI’mnotsureifI’monthesideofgoodorevil.
Finally,grudgingly,Idecidetotry.It’sbetterthandonothing,layinghereforhours.
Miosaidtopictureaneye.AnEgyptianeye.Inmymind’seye?Infrontofmythird
eye?Icatchaglimpseofone.Itsglimmerhooksmyattention.WherehaveIseenor
donethisbefore?
Yes!TheeyethatkepthoveringinfrontofmewhiletheEwokswereinEgypt.And
um,freaky?Ihavealreadydreamtthisway,withoutinstruction.Maybetherewas
somethingtothis?
Iwrinklemybrowandtrytofocusontheeye.Itiselusive.TheharderItryto
concentrateinacrunchy,constrictedway,themoreitfadesaway.I’mlikeadog
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chasingitstail.Icanalmostgrabit,butthenitwhiplashesmearoundinanother
circle.
Mercifully,Isurrender.Igiveup.Idon’tcare.Okay,fine,Idocare.Butthisisnot
working.Irelaxatinybitandbreathe.Andtheeyeappears.
Iamsuckedthroughitwithamagneticforce.Likeasmallpebblecaughtinthedrag
ofthetidegoingout.Iamdisoriented.Racingthroughwhatfeelsliketunnelsintime
andspace.TryingtorememberwhatIhavebeenassignedtodo.Findsomeone.Go
insidetheirdream.IamflippingthroughanenergeticRolodex.NotofpeopleIknow,
butofrandomstrangersthatseemtobepresentingthemselvestome.No,no,no.
Flip,flip,flip.Thenyes.Him.
Ifindmyselfsittingoutside,inthecold,infrontofachurchinacity.Iampoorly
dressedinmanylayers.Dirtyfadedgloves,withthefingertipscutoff,covermy
hands.Isitslumpedover,alone.
Thenitdawnsonme,Iamlookingouttheeyesofahomelessman.
Foramoment,Irecoil.Really?I’mdreamingahomelessman?Istarttohavean
emotionalreactionthencatchmyself.Donottouch.Shhh.Justobserve.
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AndthenIrealize.Iamnotimaginingthisman.Iamthisman.Iknowmy/hisentire
lifestory.Iwasquitesuccessfulonce.Iworesuitsandagoldwatch.Ihadalovely
wifeandtwochildren.ButIstarteddrinkingmoreandmore.Igotangrywhenmy
wifepleadedwithmetostop.IcutmyselfofffrommychildrenwhenIcouldno
longerbearthescornintheireyes.Istartedmakingbadbusinessdecisions.Ilost
myhome,mywife,mybusiness,mychildren,mypride.Iendeduplivinginmycar,
thenonthestreets.
Foryears,Iached.Icouldnotbelievemyownstupidity.IcouldnotbelievewhatI
lost,whatIgaveup,alloverabottle.Ibecameinvisibletotheworld.Peoplewould
averttheireyes,crossthestreettoavoidme.Iwantedtoshoutout,“I’mnotjusta
homelessbum!Ihadahouseoncetooyouknow.Ihadabeautifulwife.Ihadalife.I
wassuccessful!Thiscouldhappentoyoutoo.”ButIdidn’t.Ididn’twanttoappear
anycrazierthanIalreadyfelt.
AndhereIam,onthestepsofthischurch,onwhatisabouttobeanewyear,anew
century,anewmillennium.Iwatchallthepeoplescurryingbyinahurrytobewith
familyorfriendsbeforethechurch’sbellchimesintwelve.Ihadn’tthoughtabout
mywifeorchildreninyears.Ihadalmostputthemoutofmymindforever.Buton
thiseveofanewcycle,Iwonderaboutmysonanddaughterwhowouldnolonger
bechildrenanymore.Didtheyhaveawifeandhusband?Childrenoftheirown?Did
theyrememberme?
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Asingleteartrickleddownmycheek,leavingastreakthroughthegrime.
AndthenIfeltit.Forgiveness.Formyselfandmyridiculousdecisions.Forallthe
yearsIhadwallowedinpity.ForallthepainIhadcausedmylovedones.Thefeeling
bloomedinmyheartforseveralseconds,thenfadedaway.Thechurch’sbells
startedtolling.Dong,Dong.Dong.Dong….
Snap!Iwasjoltedoutofthisdream.Wait!Iwantedtoknowwhatwouldhappen
next.Whatdidthefuturehold?Wouldtheforgivenesschangethecourseofhislife?
ButIwasnotstrongenough,ordidnothavethetoolstostayinthisdreamor
journeyontothefuture.Myeyespopopen.
Iambackinmyownbody.Breathingrapidly.Myheartispounding.Theroomis
completelystillanddarkaseveryoneelseisstilllockedintheirdreams.Allthecalm,
heavy,inertbodieslyingaroundmehelpmecalmmyselfandgroundbackintothis
timeandplace.Istareattheceiling.Eyesunblinking.Icannotmovemyarms.I’m
notsureifthey’vefallenasleeporI’mstillinsomeDreamingstate.
Myentirebodyfeelsparalyzed.LikeI’mmadeofstone.AssoonasIcalmdowna
littlemore,andmybreathingslows,Ifeelbothsupremelyrelaxedanddeeplytired.I
donotfeellikeme.Ihavebeenemptiedout.Thereisahollownothingnessinside
thatisutterlythrillingandunfamiliar.
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Ilieandwait.
IdonotknowhowlongI’vebeengone.Andeventhoughmymindwouldlooooovve
toletmehaveallitsopinionsaboutwhatjusthappened,Iknowmyexperiencewas
real.Icanfeelitineverycellofmybody.
Dreaming.Thisissomepowerfulshit.AndalthoughIdon’tknowitnow,Iwillbe
dreamingmywaythroughthefirstdecadeofthenewmillennium.Ihaveentered
intothedreamtime, on my way to becoming Shaman Girl.
SpiritWanderings
Dreamingpropercommencesafewmonthsintothenewmillennium.Y2Kdidnot
destroythelifeasweknowit,butDreamingstepsrightupandblowsmyworldto
smithereens.Myinternalworldthatis.Iexploreeverydarkcreviceofself-doubt
andjudgment.Istaremylimitingbeliefsintheeye.Ifeelthegamutofemotionsthat
Ihadbeensuppressingmyentirelife.Ivoyageintodeepinnerspace,acrosstime,
intootherdimensions.IbondwithalltheotherDreamerswhoaresocourageously
excavatingtheirowninnershitandlaughing,cryingourwaythroughitall.AndI
haveneverfeltsointimateorrealwithsomanypeopleinmylifeandyetIdon’t
knowwhatmostofthemdoforaliving.Whatyoudojustdoesn’tmatter.Whoyou
reallyare,whatistrulyimportanttoyouatyourcoredoes.
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IbeginmakingthemonthlytrektoSanDiegowithAirman.We’vebeenhangingout
sinceEasterandit’sbuddingintoaromanticrelationship.It’sanentirelydifferent
kindofrelationshipthanI’veeverexperiencedbefore.Lotsofplaying,notmuch
drama.AlotoftimewithourmutualEwokfriends.Sweetandslow.Bothofus
unitedinourdedicationtobefreeoflimitations,toknowourselvesasdivinityina
humanbody.Ourspiritualquestenablesustobemorevulnerableandmorereal
witheachother.Afterall,itallhangslooseontheseweekends.Nosensein
pretendingwehaveittogetherfortherestofthemonth.
Therearemany,manytimeswhenIjustwanttoquit.Tosayfuckit.Thediscomfort
andtheuncertaintyandthetearingdownofoldhabitsandinternalwallsisjusttoo
much.It’sexhausting.Butthrilling.Butexhausting.Therearetimeswewereare
loadingupthegeartogo–journals,snacks,sleepingbagstocrashonthefloor,our
dreamingchairs-anditfeelslikeaforcefieldiskeepustetheredtoLosAngeles.
Ourresistancetotransformationisatworkaswefightthroughdelaysorgetting
lostonfreewaysorsimplynothavingourphysical,emotional,mental,spiritualshit
together.
Butwesoldieron,sometimesinthemostridiculousofspots.Wedreamformonths
onMio’spropertyinthemiddleofnowhere.Thenwemovefromhotelballroomto
hotelballroom,claimingthatwesitupallnightmeditating,wheninrealityatsome
pointwecrashoutonthefloor.Mostofuscannotaffordaroomandwedon’twant
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tomissthehilaritythatcomesfromaweekendofpunch-drunkhighsandlows,all
mashedtogether.
Welandinwhatweaffectionatelycall“thehomelessshelter”–adancestudiothatis
hangar-likeinsizeandshapeinthemiddleofaneighborhoodthatisintransition.
OnenightthereisaloudbangingonthedoorsandMilitaryManandhisbrother
investigate.Ahomelessmanwantstojoinin.Theyspentquiteabitoftime
explainingtohimthatalthoughitlookedlikeahomelessshelterwithallofus
conkedoutinoursleepingbagsandairmattressesonthefloor,itisactuallya
privateseminar.Andwearemostlikelyjustasloonyashim.Run.Go.Youaresafer
outonthestreets.
Idreamanddreamanddreamsomemoreforthenextyearandahalf.Wehave
homeworkassignments,includingsittinginDreamingdailyonourownandsitting
witha“pod”onceaweekinourarea.MylifeiscenteredaroundDreaming,
Dreaming,Dreaming,thisdeepspiritualstudy.
Incrementally,Ifeelmyselfchanginginsideandout.TheBigMeanygrowsquieter,
althoughsherearsherbeautifullyhideousandinsidiousheadonoccasion.TheGood
Girlislayinglow.Istarttolovemyself,reallylovemyself.Notformylooksortalents
orabilities,butasthismagnificentspiritcoursingthroughahumanbody.Iam
kindertothosearoundmeasInowseethatweareallone.Wecomefromthesame
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namelessplace,wehavethesamefearsandhopes,wereturntodust.Each
awarenessandnewlevelofacceptanceishard-won,butworthit.
ThedramainmyouterworldlessensasItakeresponsibilityforhowIinterpretthe
worldaroundme.MyfinancesarenotsomessyafterImoveinwithAirman.Work
seemseasier.WappyandBazerarestillnothappywithmyinexplicablecrossing
overtothedarkside,ieintoaspiritualgroupthattheydonotknoworunderstand,
butwe’vereachedanuneasypeaceaboutit.
ThenMioandYesDocmakemeanoffer.MovetoSanDiego.ComeworkforMio’s
non-profitfoundation.Theywanttoexpandthefoundationandmyexperiencein
fundraisingandeducationwouldbeaperfectfit.Myheartleapsattheoffer.A
chancetobeintheinnercircleofMio’sbusiness.Theopportunitytonolongerhave
tocommutetoDreaming.ManyDreamershaverelocatedtoSanDiego,including
Tita,soI’dhaveinstantcommunitythere.
Soundsperfect.ButitalsomeansleavingInner-CityArtsandthekids,bothofwhich
Ilove.IfeellikeI’vehelpedbuildtheorganization.Isittimetogo?Itwouldmean
closingachapteronmy“gohelpthepoorerpartsoftheworld”phase,onbeinga
teacher,beinginvolvedinthearts.WorkingforMiofeelslikeapivotalpoint.I’dno
longerbejuststudyingwithaspiritualteacher.Myworklifeandmyprivatelife
wouldmergeintoone.I’dhavetoexplainwhatMio’sfoundationdidtonotjust
friendsandfamily,buttodonors,tothelargerworld.AndsometimesIstillhada
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hardtimearticulatingexactlywhatMioofferedinawaythatordinarypeepscould
understand.Rememberingwhoyouare?Wakingup?Becomingenlightened?
Overcomingyourlimitations?Intheearlypartofthenewmillennium,personal
growthandspiritualitywerejustcomingontoasmallfringegroup’sradar.Itwasn’t
thepopular,Oprah-endorsedendeavorthatitwouldsoonbecome.
Andyes,thequestionloomedlarge:whatwouldWappyandBazerthink?
ItalkitoverwithAirmanandheisgametomovetoo.Asanartistwithsomefamily
money,heisfreetogowherehepleases.Thatsealsthedealforme.Istartmaking
planstomovesouth.IgiveMadameExecutiveDirectormyresignation.Shetriesto
luremetostaybymatchingmynewsalary,butmymindismadeup.I’mreadyfor
thisnewphase.IreluctantlyinformWappyandBazeraboutmydecisionandam
metwithacurtcongratulations.Theyarestillnotusedtomemakingdecisions
withouttheirinput,letalonemakingadecisionthattheydon’tsupport.Isoldieron.
Oneofthejobrequirements,whichIseeasadeliciousbonus,isthatIwillbe
organizingtripstoMarzisomySpanishskillswillcomeinhandy.Sincetheyare
rustyatbestandstillmostlyconsistofMexicanMan’sandmycrypticSpanglish,I
decidetotreatmyselftosixweeksinSanMigueldeAllende,MexicobeforeIstart
mynewgig.I’llrentanapartment,gotoSpanishlanguageschoolandalsotakean
artclassortwo.I’vealwaysdreamedoflivinginanothercountryandspeaking
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Spanishfluently,sothisseemsliketheperfectopportunityandexcusetoprepare
formynewjob.
ItimemytrippreciselyyettheonlybummeristhatIwillstillmissoneDreaming.
Oneblemishonmyspotlessrecord.Ilaughatmyself–theresidualGoodGirlinme
wouldlovetohaveperfectattendance.Sigh.Butthesacrificeseemsworthit.
IkissAirmangoodbyeforthemonthandahalfandmakemywaytoSanMiguel.Itis
ameccaofwriters,artists,ex-patretirees,andtourists.Themainsquareisthe
centeroftownlife,withgorgeouscolonialinspiredcathedralsandbuildings
interspersedwithinternetcafes,artgalleries,andmoretraditionallyMexican,
brightlycoloredadobestructures.Iaminheaven.Togivemyselfamonthtobeby
myself,create,learn,andimmersemyselfinanotherculture.
Ifindtheperfectapartmentthat’spartofahotelrightinthecenteroftown,within
walkingdistanceoftheSpanishschoolandtheInstitutodeArte,whereIamtakinga
ceramicsandfreehanddrawingclassenespanol.Mytemporaryhomeisperchedon
topofthehotelinthe“penthouse,”asmalltwo-levelunitonthetopfloorthathasa
micro-kitchen,livingroom,loftbedroomarea,andlargewindow/smalldoorthat
enablesmetowiggleoutontotherooftopforafantasticviewofthecityaroundme.
Breakfastisincludedinmystay,soIoftenwindmywaydownthefewstories,
acrosstheopenbalconies,intothecourtyardcaféandpracticemySpanishonthe
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waiters.Butlunchanddinner,Icobblefoodtogetherinmykitchenettetosavepesos
ortreatmyselftodinneroutatanewrestaurant.Iamcontentbeyondwords.
Severalweekendsintomyvisit,whenIhadjustbeguntofeelsomewhatcomfortable
inmyroutine–weekdaymorningsforSpanish,weekdayafternoonsart,evenings
andweekendsfreetimetoroamthecity,write,draw,ordream,Istartedtofeel
funnyaround7pmonFridaynight.Whoa.Dizzy.Verydizzyanddisoriented.Iwas
planningtomakemywaytopeoplewatchdowninthezocolobutdecidedthatlying
downwouldbebest.DidIcatchsomekindofbug?WasallthenewnessofMexico
catchingupwithme?ItwasallIcoulddotocrawlupthestairstomybedand
collapseonit.
Forthenextfewhours,IfeltlikeIwaspinnedtomybed.Icouldn’tthinkclearlyand
hoveredinahalf-awake,half-asleepstateforhours.Ifeltremoved,distantfrom
whatwashappeningtomybody.Asmallpartofmewasalarmedatwhatwas
happening,butIjustcouldn’tmustertheenergytodomuchaboutit.Finally,asif
someonehadsnappedtheirfingers,Isatuprightinmybed,calmandclearandwide
awake.Ilookedattheclock9pm.Strange.Iwasravenous.
Igrabbedmyjournalandrandownstairshopingtograbsomefoodbeforethe
kitchenclosedbutnotwantingtoventureouttofar.IthoughtI’dwritedownwhatI
wasexperiencingtoseeifIcouldmakesomeheadwayinwhatwasgoingon.AsI
poisemypenovermyjournaltowritethedate,Ipause.I’monMexicantime,and
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otherthanmyhalf-heartedattemptstokeepacombowriting-sketchingjournalwith
dates,Ihaven’tpaidmuchattentiontotrackingthedate.Iaskawaiter.Thisdate
feelsfamiliar.Whyisthat?
Ohyes!Isuddenlyrealizethatit’stheweekendofDreamingthatIammissing.
Bizarre.Istarttowonderifmynot-really-in-my-bodyexperiencehasanythingtodo
withDreaming.Igobbledownmyfood,tiredfromanotherweekoflearningand
stretchingbeyondmynorm.PlusI’mdoublyexhaustedfromwhateverjust
occurred.Ithrowsomepesosonthetableandbidmywaiterbuenasnoches.
Idragmyselfbackupstairs.Mywholeexcursionhastakenlessthanahalfhour,
whenIfeelanotherwavewashoverme.Itstartsinmywomb.Awhooshingkindof
pull.Istumbleonceagaintomybedandatinyquiverofathoughtpassesthrough
whatisleftofmyfunctioningbrain,“TheDreamershavejustcomebackfrom
break.”Andyep,sureenough,withthetimedifference,Iamsomehowinthe
dreamtime.
Althoughmybodyishere,Iamnot.MybeingisinSanDiego.AsIstillmyself,Ican
seeeveryoneseatedintheirchairsaroundtheroom.Icansmelltheunique
“homelessshelter”scentintheair.IcanfeelMio’spresencepervadingthegathering.
SomehowIhavebeentransportedtoDreaming.
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MybodylaysinertinSanMiguelandeventuallyImusthavelostconsciousnessand
fallenasleep.Thatnight,Igodeepintothedreamstate.Epicdreamsfullofpowerful
energy.Iawakecompletelydisorientedandforadeliciousandfrighteningfew
minutes,IcannotrememberwhoIamorwhereIam,whetheritisdayornight.
Slowly,slowly,Icollectmyselfandgazeblurry-eyedattheclock.I’vesleptin.Was
whathappenedlastnightreal?Adream?Willithappenagainorwasitjustaweird
coincidence?Idecidenottochanceit.Ihaveenoughtimewiththetimedifferenceto
eatandbebackinthesafetyofmyapartamentobeforethegroupgathersinSan
Diego.
Sureenough,11amrollsaroundandIcannotfunction.Ifeellikeamarionettewhose
puppeteerhascastaside.Iamlifeless,clumsyinmymovements.Icrawlbackinbed.
Idon’twanttobelievethatIamcaptivetosomeinexplicableconnectiontoMioand
thegroup.Iwanttobefree.Thisissilly.ButIcanhardlyputthesethoughts
together,letaloneactonthem.IdropintoadeepDreamingstate.
Forthenext12hours,Ipopoutofmytranceeverytimethegroupwouldnormally
betakingabreak,eventhoughIamnotawareoftheclockorevenoftimepassing.
Pop.I’mupandfunctional.Nope.Backinanddown.Imanagetofeedmyselfandgo
tothebathroomonbreaks,butnomore.Whenmyeyesareopen,mostlyIstare.Ata
wall,outthewindow.Ihaveneverfeltsoutterlyemptiedinmylife.It’swhatI’ve
dreamedofachievinginDreamingforsolongandnowthatit’shere,Iwonderingif
somethingiswrongwithme.IfI’lleverbeputbacktogetheragain.
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IdomyjerkyDreamingdancethroughoutSaturdayandthroughSundaymorning.I
donotspendtheweekendinSanMiguel.IhaveboughtaticketbacktoSanDiego
withouttheplane.Sundaynoonrollsaroundandthespellisbroken.Iamfreeto
moveaboutthecountryagain.Iammyself,albeitquieter.Contemplating.
IfIhadanydoubtsaboutthepowerofDreaming,theyarenowgone.Icannotdeny
whatI’veexperiencedthisweekend.Icannotexplainitinanywaythatmakesan
iotaofsense,butithappened.Mycellsrecordedthememoryofbeingtwoplacesat
once.OfdroppingintoaDreamingspacethatwassodeepandclearandrefreshingly
vast.IwentsofarbeyondmyselfandwhatIbelievedtobetrueandpossible.
Icouldn’twaittotellAirmanaboutmyexperienceandgetthedownloadofwhat
happenedattheweekend.Butourtalksarelimited.Callingisexorbitantlyexpensive
andnotsoprivatefromaphoneattheInstituto.Isenthimanemailtryingtoputin
wordswhatIexperienced.HerepliesthathehadthesensethatIwasthereall
weekend,hoveringaround.Numerouspeoplecameuptohimandasked,“Where’d
Meggo?HaveyouseenMeg?IthoughtIjustsawher.”AsifIwasthere,butoffinthe
bathroom.
Ireturnaftermymonthaway,readytomove,startmynewjob,refreshedand
rejuvenatedbymytimeaway.AtthenextDreaminggathering,Iaskaroundtosee
whatImissed.Apparentlynotathing.NotesofMio’steachingsaresharedwithme
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andIwouldswearIhadbeenpresent,heardeveryword.TwoDreamerslookedat
measkew,wonderingoutloudwhyIwasaskingsinceIhadbeenthere.Another
Dreamerrecountedaconversationthatwe’dhad.Severalmoredidn’tbelieveme
whenIremindedthemthatIhadbeeninMexico.
AlthoughmybodyhadbeeninMexico,myspiritwasatDreaming.ShamanGirlwas
comingintoherown,nodenyingit.Herspiritwasoffmakingitswaythroughtime
andspace,wanderingonherownaccord,whetherornotIwantedtogoalongfor
theride.ShamanGirl’sspiritwasawanderingsoul,capableofmuchmorethanI
gavehercreditfor.
TheIntervention
Ifeellikeacagedanimal.Cornered.Trapped.Ambushed.Isitontheedgeofthe
couch,grippingAirman’shandwaytootightly,hyperventilating.Myeyesarewide
andrapidlyblinkingtoholdbackthetears.Howdidmyworldjustspinaroundso
quickly?
AirManandIhavebeendatingoverayearandahalfandnowlivingtogetherinSan
Diego,afewblocksfromMio’soffice.Isupposeourrelationship’sgettingserious,
althoughaweddingisahazy,maybe,sortafuturepossibility,moreofanassumption
thananagreedupondirection.Still-sinceWappyandBazerarecomingoutfora
visit,wedecidewemightaswellintroducetheparentssoBuzzandRebekahdrive
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downfromLosAngelesforacivilizedSundaybrunch.Buzzishisgregarious
charmingself;Rebekahkindandsupportive;Wappychattingitup;andBazer,quiet
asalways.AirmanandIsmileateachotherandbreathasighofrelief.Itallwent
well.
Asweleavetherestaurant,WappyandRebekahfallbehindus.Isenseashiftin
theirtoneandenergy,butIbrushitoffasthemothersgettingtoknoweachother
betterorstartinganallianceshouldaweddingevercomeintosight.Buzzishopping
foottofoot,happytoseeusboth,notreadytogoquiteyet.Wedecidewe’llallhead
backtooursmallbungalowtosayourgoodbyes.
Wecrowdintoourtinylivingroomandthereisdefinitelyatensionintheair.Then
wham.Wappysocksittome.“RebekahandIhavebeentalkingandthere’s
somethingweneedtoaddress.”
Myheartimmediatelystartsracing.Thisdoesnotsoundgood.Aretheyconcerned
thatAirmanisJewishandI’mnot?Dotheynotthinkthatweareagoodmatch?
Whatisup?
Wappyaddressesmedirectly,“YouknowthatyourfatherandIarenothappyabout
yourinvolvementwithMio.YoutoldusthatRebekahandBuzzweresupportiveof
AirManstudyingwithMio,butshe’sjusttoldmethattheyhaveconcernsaswell,
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whichisnotwhatyousaid.”Hermouthwastight,pinchedandIcanfeelheranger
sparkling,fueledbymaternalworry.“Quitefrankly,wethinkyouareinacult.”
Ouf.IfeellikeI’vejustbeenpunchedinthestomach.
Myheadisspinning,tryingtoprocessallofthis.Ithoughtwemightbetalking
theoreticalweddingbells.Butno,Iseemtobeinthemidstofanintervention.
ApparentlyinthefewshortminutesthatWappyandRebekahwerealone,theyhad
formedastrongalliance.Andinanuncharacteristicmoveofaddressinganissue
headon,nodoubtbuoyedbyhernewallies,Wappy’sScorpiotailwaszingingmeto
mycore.
Mymouthhangsopenattheabsurdityofthisall.Idon’tknowwheretoevenbegin.I
didfudgearoundthetruth,sayingthatBuzzandRebekahwereawareofAirMan’s
studies.IconvenientlyhidthattheywerenothappythatAirManwasstrayingfrom
theirfaithandtemple.Myhalf-truthwasbitingmeinthebutt.Ican’tbelievethat
she’sconfrontingmeinfrontofAirMan’sparentswhoIverymuchwanttostay
impressedwithme.
IlookoveratAirMan.Heshrugshisshoulders,withaloopyhalf-grin,eyes
somewhatglazedover.He’sgoingtobelittlehelpinthisconversation.Hemoves
throughlifeonhisowncloudandseemsrarelyfazedbyparentaldisapproval.I,on
theotherhand,stillcraveit.
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Alleyesareonme.NowhowdoIdefendmyselffrombeingaccusedofbeingina
cultwithoutsoundingcrazyordefensive?
“Iknowyouhaveyourconcerns,butwearenotpartofacult.”Itrytostaycalmand
soundreasonable.IunderstandwhereWappy’scomingfrom.Iquestionedwhether
itwasacultmyselfwhenIfirstmetMio.Agroupofhuggy-kissypeoplewhodid
theirbesttoloveunconditionallywasfaroutsidetherealmofmycomfortzoneas
well.WhileMiowascertainlycharismatic,heinnowaycoercedanyoneinto
studyingwithhim.Hewaswelcomingofpeoplequestioninghisteachings.Hetaught
self-loveandacceptance,notguilt.Hewantedyoutofigureoutwhatmadeyou
happy,notfollowhisteachingsblindly.Heck,hisfavoritemottowas,“Don’tbelieve
me”i.e.youhadtodetermineifwhathewassayingwastrueforyourself.
YetfromWappy’spointofview,Iwasspendinginordinateamountsoftimewith
thisgroup;IwaspayingfortheworkshopswhichprobablylookedlikeMiowas
takingmymoney;Ihadlesscontactwithmyfamily–bychoice,notjustbecauseof
thedistancebutbecauseIwastryingtoindividualizeandfigureoutwhatIwanted
outofmylife,andnotliveoutWappy’saspirationsforme.
Wappy’seyesareonfire.“ThenwhydidyoulietousaboutBuzzandRebekah’s
supportifyoudidn’thavesomethingtohide?”
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BecauseIwasafraidsomethinglikethiswouldhappen?BecauseIdon’tknowhow
toexplaintoyouwhatI’mexperiencingintermsyou’dacceptorunderstand?
BecauseIstillwanttobeyourlittlegirlwhoseparentslovehernomatterwhat?
ThetruthwasthatBuzzandRebekahweretepidlyacceptingaboutMio,atleastthey
appearedtobeuntiltoday.TheyweremuchbetteraboutAirManlivinghislife,asan
adult,andashesawfit,thanWappy’sopinionatedstateaboutmylife.
“IguessIthoughtitwouldlessenyourworryaboutwhatIwasdoing.I’msorry.”
Thisissofrickin’uncomfortable.
“Idonotlikethatman.WeallthinkitwouldbebestifyouandAirManstopped
seeinghim.”
NowI’mgettingpissedontopofbeingembarrassed.Icannolongercontainmyself.
“Thatman?Youcan’tevenaddresshimbyname?Haveyouevenreadhisbook?And
youmethimonetime!”
Earlyon,whenIwasinmyzealous,spreadthegoodnewsaboutMiostage,Ibrought
WappytoaMiolectureandbooksigningatalocalbookstoreonasolovisitofhers
toCali.Afterheconcludedhistalk,Wappyleanedoverandsaidthatheseemedvery
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lovingandwhathesaidmadesense.Icouldn’twaittointroduceMiotomymother
andshowoffthatheknewwhoIwas.
TheminuteMiosawmeandrealizedthatIwaswithmymom,hethrewhisarms
aroundherinhisusualenthusiasticMiobearhug.Wappyfroze,notusedto
affectionfromastranger.Whenhereleasedherfromhisgripandsteppedbackwith
awidegrin,WappystaggeredbackwardsandIhadtocatchherfromfallingonthe
floor.Ashemovedon,Wappyconfessedthatshefeltanoverwhelmingsurgeoflove,
sostrongthatitknockedheroffherfeet.IwasonCloudNine.Wappygothim!
IboughtheranautographedcopyofthebookforhertotakebacktoPittsburgh,
withvisionsofthewholefamilypracticingEwokprinciples.Wappy,however,did
notembracethebooksoenthusiastically.Shereadachapter,thoughtitwasalltoo
basicandcommonsense,andputthebookdown.Shealreadyknewallthisstuff.
WhatWappyneglectedtoseeisthatwhilemanyreadersagreewithwhatMio
wrote,puttingitintopracticeisawholeotherlife-longpursuit.Wappybecameicier
towardMioovertimeandotherthanhergeneraldislike,Icouldn’tquitefigureout
herchangeofheart.
MymindscrollsbackoveranyotherinteractionsthatWappy’shadwithMio.Well,
whileshehadnootherdirectinteractionswithMio,therewasalsothemessin
Mexico.WappyandIhadflowntoCuernavacaformycousin’swedding.The
celebrationfellafewdaysbeforemybirthdaysoIdecidedthatafterallthefamily
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festivitieswereover,I’dcelebratemybdayontopofthePyramidoftheSuninMarzi
sinceMiohadagroupthere.IinvitedWappytocomealongwithme.Ihadarranged
forsafetransportationthroughthehotel,butshedeclined.Idecidedtogoanyway
andshewasfuriousthatI’dgiveupvacationtimewithhertoseeMio.
Wearguedheatedlytonoavail.Inamomentofpettyweakness,Ithreatenedto
changemynameto“Mia”shortfor“Miamor,”anicknameIhadbeencallingmyself
toremindmetothatIwasmyownloveanddidn’tneedherapproval,oranyone
else’sapproval,anymore.Ofcoursethissetheroff,asshe’salwaysbeenproudofmy
fullname.AnditmadeherevenmoreconvincedthatIwasinacultthatwasmaking
mechangemybirthnameeventhoughnoonehadsuggestedsuchathingandIwas
notseriouslyconsideringchangingit.
Wewenttobedangryandthenextmorningthecabcametopickmeup.Ileft
withoutwakingher,stillhurtandannoyed,eventhoughI’msuresheheardme
gettingreadyandchoosenottosaygoodbyeeither.Islippedout,leavingaletterfor
her,inwhichIattemptedtoarticulatewhatIwasfeeling,hopingmythoughtswould
bebetterorganizedonpaper.Neitherofusevermentionedtheincidenttoeach
otheragain,butIwassurethathadcausedafesteringwound.
Allthesememoriesflickerthroughmymindinamoment.Thenmyattentionis
pulledbackintothelivingroom,totheconsequenceofalltheseunresolved
interactionsandmisunderstandings.Wappyisseething.“WhenImetthatman,”she
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can’tresistthrowinginajab,“andhehuggedme,Idon’tknowwhathedidtometo
makemefallover.Butifhehasthatmuchpoweroversomeonewhodoesn’tbelieve
inhim,Icanonlyimaginethepowerhehasoveryou.”
Whoa.Whoa.Wow.Sothat’swhathappened.Wappygotscared.
Ifeelalltheenergydrainoutofme.I’msuddenlyexhaustedandIcannotseeaway
outofthismess.“Well,weseemtobeatastalemate.Idon’tknowwhattosayother
thanIplanoncontinuingtostudywithMiowhetheryouapproveornot.”
ThisdoesnotsitwellwithWappy.“IFORBIDYOUTOKEEPSTUDYINGWITHTHAT
MAN!”Shepointsherfingeratme,glaring.Ifshewasasorceress,watchoutworld.
Thewholeroomshudders.
NowI’mlivid.Allherintense,poisonousenergyhasaffectedme.“Wellguesswhat?”
Ifindmyselfyelling.“Youarenolongerthebossofme!IamanadultandIgetto
choosehowIlivemyownlife!”Tearsarepouringdownmyfacingandmyhandsare
shaking.ThisisnothowIpicturedourvisitanddefinitelynothowIenvisionedour
lovely,politemeetingofthepotentialin-laws.BazerandAirManshiftuncomfortably
intheirseats,bothasquietasfieldmice.
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Buzzcomestotherescue.“Now,now,IthinkwhatWappyandRebekaharesayingis
thattheyareconcernedaboutyourwellbeing.Willyouatleastconsiderwhatthey
said?”
Inodmyheadfeebly,tryingtounsuccessfullyholdbackthetearsandthesnotthat
isbeginningtoflow.IwanttosomehowsavefaceinfrontofBuzzandRebekahsoI
willagreetoanythingthatwillendthisdebacle.
“Bazer,whatdoyouhavetoadd?”Wappyshootsmyfatherawitheringlook.He
hatesconfrontationandemotionsohejustshakeshishead,whichofcourseadds
fueltoWappy’sfire.“You’renotgoingtosayanything?”Bazermumblessomething
aboutitbeingmyownlifeandhejustwantseveryonetobehappy.Thislackof
back-updoesnotappeaseWappyintheslightest.
“Wellthen!”Buzzchimesin,rubbinghishandstogetherandstandingup.“Weneed
tobeheadingbacktoL.A.GoodtomeetyouWappy,Bazer.Rebekah?”
BuzzgivesmeasqueezeontheshoulderashesteersRebekahtothedoor.
ApparentlyenoughonefamilydramafortheAirManclan.Rebekahpausestogive
meanapologetichug.Idon’tthinksheknewwhatshewasunleashing.“We’lltalk
soon,okay?”shewhispersasIwipethetearsthatkeepslippingoutofmyeyes.I
nod,readytosinkintothegroundanddie.
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IwishthatWappyandBazerwerefollowingBuzzandRebekahoutthedoor,but
theyarestayingwithus.Ican’twaittogotomyroombymyselfandwail.ButI
cannotsinceAirManandIgaveupourbedroomsoWappyandBazerwouldhavea
realbedtosleepin.Wearecampedoutonhisstudioroom’sflooronanair
mattress.Ihavenoprivacyorspaceinmyownhome.I’mtotallydonewithWappy
andBazer’svisit,buttheyarehereforafewmoredays.
Thisismypersonalversionofhell.
KickThemOut?!?
AfterAirman’sparentsretreattothesafetyofthegreatLosAngelesmetropolitan
area,Iracepastthetenseairlesslivingroomtogohideout–andbawl-inour
make-shiftbedroom.Iammiserable.Airmancomesintocommiseratewithme,but
havingtowhisperinordertonotbeoverheardinmyownhousejustexasperates
thesituation.Theairmattressissorelyinneedofmoreairaftermultipledaysof
use.I’mtiredofsleepingmoreorlessontheground.Tiredofnodowntime.Tiredof
strugglingtoclaimmyrighttobeanadultinmymother’seyes.
“I’msickofthis!”Ihissangrily.Thereisnorealneedtobespecific.I’msickofitall.
“I’mreadyforthemtogohome.Idon’tknowhowI’mgoingtomakeitthrough
anotherfewdays.”
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AirManlooksatmesympathetically.
“Ican’tbelievetheyhadthenervetoconfrontuslikethat–inourownhome.”
AirManrubsmyback,quiet.Thehesuggests,“Whydon’tweaskthemtogotoa
hotelforthelastfewnights?Atleastwe’dhaveourbedbackandalittlespacefor
ourselvestoo.”
Iamhorrified.Despiteallthathashappened,Icannotimagineaskingmyparentsto
leave.Thatseemstobetheultimaterudegestureinmymind.“Kickmyparents
out?!?”Isqueak.
“Wedon’thavetokickthemout.Can’twejustsaythatwearetiredofbeingonthe
floorandmaybealittlespacewoulddoeveryonegood?”
Thisisaperfectlyreasonablesuggestion.Andyetitgoesagainsteverydictumin
howIwasraised.Youtreatelders,particularlyyourparents,withrespect.Heck,I
stilladdressedallmyparents’friendsbytheirsurnames,asinMr.Appassienado
andMrs.O’Grady,eventhoughIwasnownearingthirty.“Idunno,”Ifinallyreply.
WhileIambeyondpissedatWappy,IcannotfathomtellingBazer,whoiscaughtup
inWappy’stantrum,togetoutofmyhouse,nomatterhowkindlyphrased.
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“Whydon’tyouthinkaboutit?Sleeponitovernight.”AirMansuggests.“I’mgetting
hungry…”andhegetsuptogoscroungeforfoodinthekitchen.
Ihaveabsolutelynoappetiteandcannotsufferthroughanothermealoutwith
Wappytoday.AirManscavengesleftovers,leavingWappyandBazertofendfor
themselves.Thisisasun-hostess-likeasIcanbefornow.
Ithrashthroughthenightandskulkaroundinthemorning.Atwork,Ipouroutthe
wholesordidaffairtoPink.SheisunbelievablygentleandsupportiveasIstumble
throughwhatIwanttodo.Iamtorn.
WhenIarrivehomeafterwork,I’mgreetedwithastonysilencefromWappy.Thisis
nothowIwanttobelivinginmyownhouse–evenforafewmoredays.Ipull
AirManintoourroomandannouncethatI’mready.Weresearchafewnearby
hotelsonlineandagreethatwewillfootthebilleventhoughwearenotreallyinthe
financialpositiontodoso.AtleastitassuagesmyguiltsomewhatforwhatIam
abouttodo.
Shaking,IcomebackintothelivingroomwhereWappyandBazerarecampedout
onthecouch,readingbooks.“Mom,Dad,AirmanandIwouldliketoputyouupina
hoteluntilyouleave.We’rereadytosleepinourownbedandinlightofyesterday,
wethinkthatit’sbestforallinvolved.”There,Isaidit.Ican’tbelieveit,butIdid.
Thisisabigstepforme.
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Wappylooksoveratmydadandbacktome.“Fine,”shesayseventhoughherbody
language,expression,andtonemakeitclearthatitisnotfineatall.“Wecanbe
readyinafewminutes.”
Myheartfeelslikeit’sbeencrushedtothesizeofapea.Shewon’tlookatme.Iwant
thistoallbeokay,butit’sjustnot.
“Wewerethinkingwe’dmoveyouoverinthemorning…”Ipeterout.“Wecanstill
gettogetherformeals,”Iofferthisshredofhope.
“Youobviouslydon’twantusheresowe’llgonow.”Iciclesarepracticallydripping
offeachsyllable.WappyrisestogocollecttheirthingsandBazersighsashehoists
himselfoffthecouch.
“SorryBazer,”Imumbleashelumbersby.Hepatsmyshoulder.Ihopehe
understandshowmuchIdon’twanttobedoingthis,butfeelit’sforthebest.
Idrivethemoverthehilltothehotelinapainfullysilentcar,AirManfollowing
behindmesoWappyandBazerwon’tbestrandedandwillhavewheels.Evidently
Wappyisgivingmethesilenttreatment.Afterhelpingthemlugtheirluggageto
theirroom,Iturntogo.Therearetearsinmyeyes.Bazersays,“Seeyouinthe
morning.”InodasIhurryoutoftheirroom.We’veagreedtomeetatourhouseand
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gooutforbreakfast.Theyarereligiousabouteatingoutthreetimesaday.I’mnot
surewhywearegoingtoattempttoeattogethersinceitdoesn’tseemlikeanyoneis
communicatingwithoneanother,butweare.
Ibreakdownsobbingonthewayhome.AirMan’shandrubbingmyknee.Ican’t
believeI’vejuststooduptomyparentslikethis.ButI’vedrawnalineinthesand.If
youwanttobeinmylife,youdon’tgettodictatehowIliveanymore.
AirManandIreturnhome,happytobebackinourownbed.Ifeelheartbroken,but
alsorelievedtohavemyhomeback.AirManandImightgothroughthegrumblesor
haveourpettypeeveswitheachother,butthegeneralvibeinourhomeisoneof
calm.Icanbreatheforthefirsttimeindays.
Thenextmorningweawaken.Thesunisshining.Itappearstobeyetanother
gorgeous,sunnySouthernCaliforniaday.
ButitisTuesday,September11th,2001.Wedon’tknowityet,buttwoplaneshave
crashedintotheTwinTowersinNewYorkCity.Mylifemightseemalittlenutsright
now,butinperspective,thewholeworldseemsalittlemoreinsane.
9/11
Wappybargesinthefrontdoor,pushingpastme,herfacewhiteasasheetand
drawn.Ithinksarcastically,“Well,goodmorningtoyoutoo!”Ihaveaglimmerof
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hopethatmaybeshe’stakingthisharderthanIthoughtandhassomemorselof
regret.Butno.Sheasks,“Haveyouheard?”andturnsontheTV.
IhavenoideawhatsheisreferringtoasAirManandIrarelywatchTV,letalone
listentomorningnews.I’mnotclearifthereissomenewdevelopmentinourpetty
dramaorifshe’sreferringtoamoreworldlyconcern.Iassumeit’smoreworldlyifit
involvesaTV.Bazershufflesinbehindher,carryinghisconsummatedietsodaina
schooner.WappyisflippingthroughchannelsontheTVmutely.Bazerlooksgrimas
well.
“Heardwhat?”IaskasItakeinthescenethat’sunfoldinginmylivingroom.I’m
reallynotinthemoodforanymoredrama.
Shelandsonastationthat’scarryingfootageofthesmokingTwinTowerscollapsing
beforeoureyes.Myhandfliestomymouth,horrified.“OhmyGod.What’sgoing
on?”
AllthreeofussinktothecouchandstareattheTVnotcomprehending.Finally
Bazersays,“Atfirsttheyweren’tsureifitwasanaccident,butnowtheythinkit’sa
terroristattacksincemoreplaneswereinvolved.”Theyhadheardareportonthe
radioonthedriveoverfromthehotel.SincewewereonWestCoasttime,wewere
justwakingupandcatchinguptothehorrorunfoldingontheEastCoast.
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“Airman!”Ishout,“You’vegottocomeseethis.”Iknewtwoofhissisterslivedin
NewYork.OneofthemnotfarfromtheTwinTowers.Airmandriftsintotheroom,
scratchinghisheadsleepily.“OhmyGod!”he’sinstantlymoreawakeashecatches
thefootageunfoldingontheTV.
Forthenextfewhours,wesit,transfixed,notmoving.Noonesaysmuch.It’stoo
muchtotakein.
Aftertryingtocallhissistersdirectlyandgettingnoanswer,AirMancallsBuzzand
Rebekahtoseeifthey’veheardanything.Nothing.Rebekahissickwithworry.All
wecandoisprayandkeepintouch.
Breakfastandluncharecompletelyforgotten.IfinallyrealizeIshouldcheckinwith
YesDocandtheoffice.Noone’scomein.YesDoctellsmethatthere’sgoingtobea
prayercircleatTita’shometonightifwewanttojoin.AlltheEwoksareplanningon
comingtogether.
Bymid-afternoon,Ican’ttakeitanymore.Thesamefootagebeingplayedoverand
over.Theheartbreakanduncertaintyandfear.IneedtogetawayfromtheTVsoI
gositoutsideonthefrontstairs.Carsarestilldrivingpast.Joggersarestillrunning
downthestreet.Howcantheworldgoonwhensuchatragedyhashappened?
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Andyetthereisalsotheeeriestsilence.Itfeelslikethewholeworldisholdingits
breath.Thereismuchlessactivitythanonanordinaryday.AndthenInotice:there
arenoplanesintheskyeventhoughweliveundertheflightpatternforSanDiego
International.
Isitandtearssilentlystreakdownmyface.I’mfeelingsadnessandangerand
disbelief.Ican’tbelievethatI’mlockedinsomeinconsequentialdramawithmy
parentswhiletheworldistearingapart.Familiesarebeingforeveraltered.Lives
foreverchanged.Thisiscrazy.Pureinsanity.
IgoinsidereadytoapologizetomyparentsandtellthemIlovethem.Iwalkback
intothelivingroomandstopinfrontofmymother,“Mom?”Isay.Ifeelso
vulnerableandsmall.Ijustwantmymomtosaythateverythingwillbeokay.With
theworld,withus,evenifitdoesn’tseempossiblethatthatwilleverbetrueagain.
“Whhat?”sherepliessharply,annoyedthatI’mblockingherview.Hereyesflicker
upatmeforaninstant,butshedoesn’treallyseeme.She’slandedbackontheTV,
craningherneckaroundme.
Istandthereforamomentlonger,waitingforhertolookatme,mypain,my
willingnesstotryagain.Insteadsheasksbrusquely,“Canyoumove?”
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Forgetit.Ican’tbringmyselftosayanythingmore.I’vegottogetoutofthishouse,
getsomeperspective.ImotiontoAirmantofollowmeandweconveneinour
bedroom.ItellhimthatIwanttogotakeawalkatthebeachbeforegoingtoTita’s
housefortheprayercircle.Ofcoursehewantstocomewithme.Wegobackintothe
livingroomtotellWappyandBazerourplans.Iknowthatthisisn’tgoingtogoover
well.
“We’regoingtothebeachandthentoTita’sforaprayercircle.Youarewelcometo
joinus.”
Wappylooksupatmeforagoodlongminute.Shelooksatmelikeshedoesn’tknow
whoIam,orcan’tcomprehendthelanguageI’mspeaking.Shesaysnothing.Glaring.
Icanonlyimaginewhatisgoingthroughhermind.“Howcouldyou…howdare
you…youaregoingtoleaveyourparentsatatimelikethistogoandbewiththem?”
Okaythen.Well,we’reoff.IleanoverandkissBazeronhishead.“Iloveyou,”I
whisper.Hereplies,“Hmmpf.Loveyoutoo.”Andwe’reoff.
Therearehardlyanycarsonthefreeway.It’sasifwearemovingunderwater,
throughathickdream.Ineveryboneinmybody,IcanfeelwhatMiomeansabout
lifebeingadream.
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Lifefeelssurreal.Mystomachfeelsrancid.Myheartnumb.Icryoffandonaswe
makeourwaynorth.It’sbeensuchanemotionalfewdays–firstwithmyparents
andnowthis.Ifeelridiculousforbeingsoupset.Iamsafe.Myfamilyisnearby.One
ofAirman’ssistershadtalkedtotheirparentsforabrieffewminutesbeforehercell
wentdownandreportedthatbothsisterswerebothaliveandnotinjured.AndyetI
amwrecked.
Beingatthebeachissoothingintermsofbeingoutofthehouse,butwhatIreally
wantistobewithmyEwokfamilysoweheadovertoTita’searly.Everyonegreets
eachotherwithextralonghugs.Weallpaycloseattentiontooneanother,really
checkingin.Listening.Present.AsmoreandmoreEwokstricklein,Titagathersus
intoacircle.
Titaspeakssoeloquentlyandfromherheart.Howeventoday,eveninthemidstof
whatlookslikeincomprehensibleevil,westillhaveachoice.Itisnormaltofeelfear.
Buthowwewillrespondtoit?Withmorefear?Orwithlove.Wecanmakea
consciouschoicetokeeploving,keeplivingingratitude,keepsendingcompassion.
Ifwechoosetothink,live,actfromfear,theterroristswin.Ifwemakeachoiceto
stayinourhearts,tofeelitallandstillactfromlove,thenwecreateopportunities
forhealing.Wecreateadifferentnow,andthepossibilityofanalternativefuture.
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Igulpinherwords.TheyaresounlikewhatIhaveheardtodayontheTV.Mysoul
soaksthemin.Thereisnotalkofretaliationorwarornon-stopampingupofthe
fear.Thisresponseisquiet.Gentle.Real.Raw.
Itfeelssorighttogatherinthisway,withincommunity.Toyes,beinformedabout
whatishappening,buttoalsoturnofftheTVandgowithin.Tobepresentwithall
theemotionandtosendlovetothemany,manypeoplewhoaresufferingandarein
need.Justbreathingdeeplyfeelslikearadicalactoflove.
Wesitinstillness.Wepray.Wespeakaloudnamesofpeoplewhowewishtobe
heldinourcircle,surroundedbylove.
ItislatewhenAirmanandIheadbackhome.ThehouseisdesertedandIfindanote
fromWappyandBazer.Allflightshavebeencanceleduntilfurthernotice.Theydo
notknowwhentheywillbegoinghome.
Isigh.Andcrawlinbedbushed.
Thenextfewdaysarewretched.WappyandBazerjustwanttositinfrontoftheTV
withitscallstowarandceaselessrepeatingofcarnage.Iwantnothingmorethan
quiet.Timetoprayandbestill.
NoflightsWednesday.
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NoavailableonthefewandfarbetweenflightsThursday.
NothingFridaywiththebacklog.ItmightbedaysbeforeWappyandBazercould
headhome.
WappyandBazerdecidetotakemattersintotheirownhands.Eventhoughthey
havebeenrescheduledtentativelyonaflightthatleavestomorrow,theyoptfor
ticketsonaGreyhoundBus.Iwasstunned.Atleastfourdaysonabus?That
soundedhorrendous.AndwhataboutBazerwhowasn’tsupposedtosleepwithout
oxygenforhissleepapnia?Ipleadwiththemtostay,waititout.We’refinehereand
alltogether.Butno,Wappyisdeterminedandthere’snostoppingheroncehermind
isset.
AirmanandIdriveWappyandBazertothebusstation.Wappystillhasn’tsaidmore
thanafewwordstomeallweek.WeunloadtheirbagsfromthecarandIturntosay
goodbyebutWappyhasalreadywalkedawaytowardtheentranceofthebus
station.
Istareatherbackindisbelief.Wasshereallyleavingwithoutsayinganything?How
couldshegetonabuswithoutahugorgoodbye?Nomatterhowpissedweareat
eachother,shouldn’twebeabletomovepastthisinlightofallthefamilieswho
nowdidn’thavetheoptiontoeverhugeachotheragain?
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Bazergavemehiscustomaryhalf-hug,half-patontheback.“Iloveyou,”Ichokeout.
“CallmewhenyougethomesoIknowthatyou’vearrivedsafely.”Bazernods,then
hurriestocatchupwithWappy.Thatisgoingtobeone,long,uglycross-country
trip.
Forthenextfewdays,WappyandBazerrideforendlesshours,stoppingonlytoeat
crappyfoodorusethebathroomasthedriverdictates.Wappyputsherselfonvigil,
notallowingBazertogotosleepwithouthismachine.Icannotimaginehowmuch
discomforttheymusthaveenduredoverthe2,461miles.
Bazercallstosaytheyarehome,neardeliriouswithlackofsleep.Wappydoesnot
cometothephone.
Theirre-scheduledflighttakesoffasplanned.Hadtheybeenonit,theywouldhave
arrivedhomealmostthreedayssooner.
Severalweekslater,Wappyfinallycalls.Shefeelsterrible.Everymileateawayat
herheart.Howcouldshebesoselfishandnotsayshelovedmewhensomany
peopleintheattacksweren’tgiventhechancetosaygoodbye?Sheapologizesfor
leavinginahuff.IapologizeandtellherthatIlovehertoo.
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AfterIhangupthephone,relievedthatweareatleastonspeakingtermsagain.I
realizethatthere’sbeennodiscussionorapologyfortheIntervention.Andthere
neverwillbebecausethat’sthewayitgoesinmyfamily.
TheNagualWoman
Thelightisblindinglyintense.Marzioutdoingherself.Marzilighttimesone
thousand.Packetsofinformation,red,hot,arebeingtransmittedfromthesun.My
eyes,myforehead,myentirebeingisbeingconsumedinthisheatandlight.Pulsing,
staccatobursts.Highnotes.Overtopofalanguid,deep,vastriveryflow.Myears
attunetoanotherfrequency.TherearenowordsandyetIunderstandwithevery
fiberofmybeingwhatisbeingcommunicated.Theheartoftheuniversespeaks,
emits,blesses.
Ifeelfrozen,rootedtotheground.Mybodynolongersolelymyownorundermy
owncommand.TheenergyissomuchlargerthanmethanIcannotmoveagainst.I
canonlyreceive.Open.Surrender.Longminutesflowbywithoutmetakingabreath.
Merging.One.Iamformless.Thenmybodyremembersit’simperativetobring
oxygenintothesystemandIinhalealong,shakybreathbeforedisappearinginto
thelightagain.
Severaleternitiespass.
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Iambothacutelyawareofandoblivioustomysurroundings.Go,Go,Go!MyDNA
changes.Myharddrivesarewipedclean.Thereisnothingness.Nothingbutpure
perception.Allthatis.
Now!
Theinternalcommandissharpenoughtounlockmyimmobility.Myarmsslowly
risetowardthesun.Whisperyfragmentsofancientmemorydriftthroughmybeing.
Here,inMarzi,centuriesago.Reigning.Humblekneeling.Worshipping.Raysoflight
extendoutofmyhands,myfingertips.Mypalmsturnhot,shimmering.Iraisemy
armsoverhead.
Doit!Anactofpower.Claimyourbirthright.Claimyourdivinity.
Ihavenochoice,nofreewill.Destined?Mybodyisanimatedbyaforcebeyondmy
ownmind.Iclaimmyrayanddriveitintomyheart,mywomb,theground.Theair
andEarthripplesoutfromme,quaking,vibrating.Thisactimpactstheplanet.
Youarethenagualwoman.
Drrrr.Thraaaa.Thraaa.Thelight…
YOUarethenagualwoman.
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Thelightisdazzling.Dizzinglystrong.
YouAREthenagualwoman.
Iamdissolving.Untilthereisnomeleft.JustIam.One.
YouareTHEnagualwoman.
Theconsciousness.Aching.Expanding.Pleasuringthedivine.
YouaretheNAGUALWOMAN.
Anexplosionintovast,vaststillness.
Thenquiet.Eternal,infinitepeace.Lightwithin.Lightabove.Lightbelow.Lightall
around.
Iamthenagualwoman.
Ping.
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Iopenmyeyesandfeelthebreezewhipthroughmyhair.Iamfierce.Beamsoflight
penetrateeverywhereIlook.Therearenolongerwordsorthoughtsinmymind.I
cannotdistinguishmyselffromthebushes,therocks,theEwoksaroundmeandyet
Iambeingmovedbytheforceoflife,inaccordancetoitsownwill,asone
manifestationoftheallthereis.
Ilookaround.IamstandingontopofaraisedplatforminthemiddleofMio’sPlace,
amini-complexofcourtyardandstonenotfarfromthePyramidoftheSun.Ohyes,I
amremembering.Beforethisenergeticcoronation,theMioandtheEwokshadbeen
upontheplatformwithmeperformingaDreamingceremony.NowIamhere,alone,
withtheEwoksspreadacrosstheplaza.Isurveymysurroundings,myheadturning
slowlytotheleftandrightwiththeeyesandawarenessofamajesticeagle.Thereis
nothingtodo.Therearenothoughtscallingmyattention.Thisisonlythismoment,
now.Bliss.
Miogesturesandmyattentionisdrawntowardhim.Westareintoeachother’seyes
forlightyears,acrossvortexes,andgalaxies,acrossthisplaza,here.Eyetoeye.
Nagualtonagual.Love,respect,gratitude.Henods,thenshiftshisattentiontothe
group.Withawhistle,hecallsustobeseatedonasetofstairsfacingtheraised
platform,hisfavoritelocationforteachingwheninMarzi.
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Imoveslowly,majestically,floatingwiththegrouptothestairs.Thelowmurmurs
andchatteringofthegroupfeelfaraway,eventhoughthereareEwokssittingnext
tomeoneitherside.
ThePyramidoftheMoonrisesuptoourright,theSunoverourshoulders.Theyare
thrumming.ThispowerjourneytoMarzihasbeenespeciallypoignant.Itmarksthe
endofoursecondyearofDreaming,twoyearsofenormoustransformation.Each
Ewok’sawarenesshasgrownexponentially,acceleratedbythecollectiveenergyof
thegroup.Aswerisetonewlevels,Mioisabletoampuphisteachings,ampupthe
energy.Thesun,thelight,supportsthisprocess.Humanityisonthevergeof
massivechange.
Iamstillinawordlessspace.Miobeginsaddressingthegroup.Hiswordssoundas
ifhe’sspeakingfromafuturelanguagethathasbeenderivedfromanancient
mothertonguethatIuse.Icomprehendwhatheissayingandyetcannotfollow
eachword.ForafewminutesIstruggletopullmyselfintoamorenormalstateof
awareness,thenrealizethatIunderstandhimperfectlyifIrelaxandtrackthe
energyinstead.
Thetranslation:
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Thelightisshifting.MotherEarthisawakening.Humanityisawakening,evolving.
Theseshiftscreatemoreandmoredisturbances.Allofthesedisturbancesare
purposeful.Theywillassistinourawakening.
Manywillbeworkingwiththelight.Itisourjobtobeaware,tolivefromthe“Iam,”
tocommunicateonchannelsoflove,notfear.
Mioistired.Hepatienceislow.Hisrelationshipwithusischanging.Hewillalways
bepresentforus;hewillcontinuetousethechannelsofcommunicationwe’ve
established,buthishumanwillbelessandlessavailable.Soon,hewillstopteaching
andonlyfocusonDreamers.
Tosupportthischange,heisnamingagroupofElders.EachoftheseEldershas
cometoembodyhisteachings.TheyareDreamMasters,bothintheircommitment
toDreamingandtheirmasteryofnavigatingthelargerworld.TheElderswillbe
responsibleforleadingthegroup,sharingourdreamwiththeworld.Becausethis
newdreamhasthepotentialtogoaroundtheentireworldandshiftthedreamof
theplanet.
Silence.Long,poignantwordlesscommunications.It’sasifeachofusarelistening,
hearingwhatMioissayingbelowthewords.Andyetourmindscanonlypartially
comprehendwhatheisreallycommunicating,whathe’spredicting.
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Wemustprepare.
Miobeginstocallnames.
Hun.Hathor.Twoobviouschoices.Hun,adoctor,witty,super-intelligent,abletosee
systems,bigpicture,patternsininsightfuluniqueways.Hathor,alawyerandtravel
agentwhoarrangedtheEgyptiantrip.Sharp,cracklingenergy.Canslipbetweenthe
veils.
JollyBear.Hmm.Unexpectedperhaps.He’squiet,tendstokeeptohimself,butwhen
hedoesspeak,welisten.Inrealestateandabouttocomeintohisown.
Thegroupisholdingitsbreath.Eachofusonedge,tryingtosuppresstheego’s
whispers,“Willhepickme?Why’dhepickthem?”
Mioisnotpickingwhowe’dpredict.Hisselectionsarenotthelong-timeteachers
whohavetendedtositintheinnercirclemostoften.
AVonTrappbrother.Solid.Amixtureofgravitasandboyishhumor.
Gorbachev.Anotherdoctor.Sturdy.
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Shimmer.Sheembodiesyummysweetwisemamaenergy,whilestillthrowingina
bitofsexypizazz.Shecanwhipahouseinshapewithsomefengshui,offerthe
perfecttidbitofsageadvice,orbringthesacredintoabloomingromance.
Mio’smixingthefeminineandthemasculine,theyounger,newerstudentswith
thosewhohavehoveredaroundfromvariousincarnations.Hepauses,surveying
thegroup.
Pink.“WhereisPink?”heasks.Heissoabsorbedinhiscreation,incallingforththe
perfectenergeticandtalentconfigurationoftheEldersthatheseemsto
momentarilyforgetthatPinkhasnotphysicallyaccompaniedusonthistrip.
SomeoneinthefrontgentlypointsoutthatPinkbackinSanDigeo.“Ahh,”Mio
replies,“Well,sheisofcourseanElderandwilljointhisgroupwhenwereturn
home.”
ThenMiolooksstraightatme.Myheartskipsabeat.Hiseyesarepenetrating.I
wouldbetheyoungestmemberoftheEldersbyfaranddon’tthinkofmyselfas
anywherenearelderly,butovermylifetime,manyhavecommentedonmehavinga
wisdombeyondmyyears.Mostofmyclosefriendsarequiteabitolderthanme.
CouldIbeinvitedtojoin?
IfeellikeIamfloating,facedown,breathheld,inaswimmingpoolthatis
impossiblydeep.Iamlostinthatblissful,weightlessspace,allsoundsmuffledfrom
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myearsbeingsubmergedinthewater.Far,farbelowatthebottom,Icanmakeout
thischatteraboutmyselfandtheElders.ButitissodistantthatI’mnotevensureif
itappliesto,orisevenapartofme.
Finally.“Meghan,”andhesweepshisarmwideindicatingthatIshouldjointhe
group.Inwardlythereissomefistpumpingatthebottomofthepool,while
outwardlyIattempttoretainagraveenoughsmilethatisappropriateforthe
occasion.AsIwalkclosertothegroup,whoareallnowsittingattheedgeofthe
platformonwhichIhadjustmergedwiththelight.Manyofthembreakoutwarm
smilestowelcomemeandsharetheirownthrillofbeinginvitedtoholdtheenergy
forthelargergroup.Ihopupontheedgeattheendoftheline,lookdowntherowat
allmyfellowElders,andbacktotheEwoksstillsittingonthestairs.
Mioturnstofaceus.“First,youwillretreatintosacredceremonyandnamethe
positioneachofyouholdwithinthegroup.Youeachpossessanenergy,atalentthat
isvitaltocreatingthisnewdream.Oneofyouwillbethespokespersonforthe
Elders.ThenyourfirstassignmentistonameTHEnagualwomanforourtribe.”
MyheartbeginstopoundwhenMiosaysthatwemustnameTHEnagualwoman
afterwhatjustwentdownontheplatform.
Whilethenagual/nagualwomanmythologyfelloutoffavorwhenMiostartedthe
Dreaming,iteventuallywasresurrectedwithnewtwistswithintheDreaming
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group.Miohadcreatedanewgenerationofnagualwomen,whosatinconjunction
withtheoriginalnagualwomenineachofthecardinaldirections.Ihadbeennamed
asoneoftheyoungernagualwomen.
Whenitcametimefortheoldernaguals,toidentifywhichdirectionIsatin,some
semi-playful,semi-seriousinfightingbrokeout.ThewickedwitchoftheEast,
claimedthatIheldEastenergyjustlikeher.No,no,brokeintheWest.Sheismine
andwillsitwithme.ThenSouth,whowasrumoredtobethemostpowerfulofthe
lot,chimedin.SheisdefinitelySouth,withoutadoubt.Thentheothersprotested
aboutwhohadthemostpower.Theonlythingthatseemedtobeagreeduponwas
thatIwasnotrelatedtotheGoodWitchoftheNorth.
TheSouthseemedtowin,althoughIoftensatintheWest,untilMiosteppedinand
saidwe’drotateamongthedirections,alazysusanoffemininepower.Settled.
Somewhat.
NowMiowasinstructingtheElderstoselectTHEnagualwomanwhowould
supersedeallthepastnonsenseanddirections.Thisnagualwomancamefromthe
Dreaminglineagesoitwassupersizingthepowerthatsheheldforthegroup.And
givenMio’sdeclarationofsteppingbackfromteaching,wecouldonlyimaginethe
rolesshewouldbetakingoninthefuture.
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MiodirectsustogotoanareaofMarzithatIhaveneverbeentoorevenheardof
before.Itissupposedlysecluded,powerful,andoffthebeatenpath.It’salsoaplace
thatIhaveneverbeenabletolocatesince.
Wegatherourbelongingstoheadout.Airmancatchesmyeyeandbeamsmeasmile
goodbye.Offwetroop,eachlostinourownworlds,silent,absorbingtheenormityof
thetaskwehavebeenhanded.ThevonTrappbrotherleadstheway.Weneedto
reverseourpathdowntheAvenueoftheDead,thensplinterofftooneside.
Myheartisstillracingmadly.Anytraceofserenityfrommymergingisgone.WhileI
amstillperceivingeverythingaroundmeinanalteredstateofawareness,within
me,abattleisraging.AllthelightI’vejusteatenhasworkeditswaydownintomy
subconsciousandbroughtallthemucktothelight.
YOUREALLYTHINKTHATTHELIGHTJUSTMADEYOUTHENAGUALWOMAN?DO
YOUKNOWHOWCRAZYTHATSOUNDS?WHATIFYOUMISUNDERSTOODWHAT
HAPPENED?WHATIFYOURMINDGOTMIXEDUPINITSINTERPRETATION?
Fromaverystillplaceinsideofmecomesavoicethatiscompletelycertainand
speakswithauthority:
….youknowwhatyouexperienced…
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Carriedonthewind,groundedintheEarth,asbrightasthesuninthesky.
Still,theBigMeanievoicecarrieson.
WHODOYOUTHINKYOUARE?THENAGUALWOMAN?YOUREALLYTHINKTHAT
THEELDERSWILLNAMEYOU?IFYOUWEREREALLYTHENAGUALWOMAN,
YOU’DBEENLIGHTENEDRIGHTNOW.YOUWOULDN’THAVEANYDOUBTS.
YOU’D…
….shhhh….youknowwhatyouexperienced…
BUT,C’MON.REALLY?THENAGUALWOMAN?HA!WHATWOULDWAPPYAND
BAZERSAYABOUTYOURUNNINGAROUNDHEREPRETENDINGTOBESOMEKIND
OFTOLTECPRINCESS?
….youknowwhatistrue…youknowwhatyouexperienced…
Stepbystep,thevoicesragedandassertedquietly,ragedandassertedquietly.Ifelt
utterlysicktomystomach.Whatwouldbeingthenagualwomanmeanformy
future?CouldIreallyrisetotheoccasionandholdthatmuchenergyforthegroup?
Mythroatconstricted.WouldIhavethegutstosaywhatIexperiencedinMio’s
Place?
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Mercifully,wefindourdesignatedhidey-spot,wheretherewasonceaccesstoan
undergroundnetworkofchambersandtunnels.Wesitonthegroundinatight
circleanddroprightintoDreaming.Thevoicesstop.Ifeelanenergybloomfrommy
wombandIstarttorock,swayingbackandforth.Energysnakesaroundus,sealing
ourcircle,ourconnection,ourintent.Weeachhaveindividuallyandcollectively
beensubmergedinacool,clear,streamofawareness.Whenthebondhasformed,
weeachopenoureyes.Pureawarenessandlight.
Wespeak.Theauthenticityandclaritythatcomesfromeachofourmouthsis
stunning.Wehaveenteredheavenonearth.Wearecreatingfromintent.Ourwords
haveform,energy,power.Thenewdreamisemergingbeforeoureyesinhowwe
holdourselvesandeachother.Howwearecallingforwardnewlevelsofintegrity,
authority,support,respect.Thereisalotofsilence.Deeplistening.Heartssoopen.
Eachpersonspeaksascalledfromwithin.Theenergybuildsuntilitmustescape
frominsidetobebirthedintotheworld,intoaform.Beforewordsexitamouth,all
ofourattentionhasalreadyturnedtowardtheonewhoisabouttospeak.Ourfull
presenceisrequiredandwillinglyoffered.
Onebyone,wespeakourroles,ourcreations.
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Iamthefeeler.Icansensewhatfeelsrightandthiswillguidethegrouptostaywithin
theflow.Ifthereisalackofintegrity,Iwillknow.Wemustbestilloften.Speakonly
whenwearecalledtospeakthetruth.Trustourinnervoicesandinnerknowings.
IfeelasifthisElderisspeakingdirectlytome.Next.
Iamthefool,themysticwhoseeswithachild’swisdom.Ibringexuberance.Beliefin
beauty.Iamwillingtostepoutofthiseverydayworldandintooblivion.
Iamthewisemother,thecrone…Iamthepracticalone…thevisionary…
EachElderdefinesarolethatisbasedintheessenceoftheirbeing,combinedwith
theskillsandtalentstheyhavehonedintheiryearsoflivingontheplanet.Eachgift
clicksintoplaceinthepuzzleofhowwearetofunction.
Aftereachpersonspeaks,wepollthegroup.Isthistheirrole?Isthereanyother
insightsthatothersmighthave?Thereisagreementandclarificationanddeep
beautyknowing.
Itismyturn.Iclosemyeyesandfeelanothershockofenergysurgethroughme.Ido
notknowwhatIamabouttosay.
Avoiceriseswithinmeandspeakswithconvictionandclarity.
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Iamthenagualwoman.Iamheretoserve,toreceive,tobethechannelbetweenthe
tonalandnagual.
Tearsarestreamingdownmyface.Ikeepspeakingandtheenergybuilds.Iam
blessingeachElderinthegroup,callingMio’sspirittobepresentwithus,drawing
alltheEwoksintothecircle,sendingoutthenewdreamintoMamaEarth,upto
FatherSun,intothesoulsofeachhuman.
Iam.
Iact.
Thereisnodoubt.
Thecirclecloses.EachElderhasspoken.WereviewMio’sinstructions.
HaseachElderidentifiedtheirroleinthegroup?Headsnod.Yes,weconcur.
Haveweselectedaspokesperson?No,weneedtodoso.
Thereisafewminutesoftalkabouthowwewillgoaboutthis.Byvote?By
consensus?Doessomeonefeelcalledtobenamedthisordowenominateothers?
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Eachofustestsoutourrolesasweestablishhowthegroupwillfunctionandmake
decisions.Wemakethefirstofmanysoundchoices:wefunctionbyconsensus.If
evenonepersonisnotclearonadecision,thenwewaitforcompleteclaritybyall,
fornewinformationornewwisdomtoemerge.
Webataroundpossibilitiesandreasonsforwhowillbenamedthespokesperson
untiltheperfectnameissuggested.Likeslidingakeyintoalockandcatchingthe
latch,thisfeelsabsolutelyright.Wehaveconsensus.
Whatnext?
Miosaidtonamethenagualwoman.IsMeghanTHEnagualwoman?Quiet.
WhatIdon’tpickupatthetimeisthatBabsistheobviouschoice.SheisMio’s
currentteachingpartner,gorgeousinsideandout.Sheisawordsmiththat
illuminatesthetruthinstunningclarity.Shehasbeenfunctioningasthenagual
womanforsometimenow.FormanyoftheteacherswhohadhungagroundMiofor
years,Babs’arrivalonthesceneashismainco-teacherisalittlesurprising.But
thereisnodenyingherpower,wisdomorclarity.Ihadn’t,foramoment,considered
herroleinthispuzzleorwhatnamingmemightmean.Sheiscompletelyoffmy
radar,butperhapsnotoffsomeoftheElder’s.
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Iamutterlystill.Whateverthispauseisabout.Feelingitout?Agreement?
Dissention?Itisasitis.Iallowthegrouptodecide.
Aconversationensues.Whatdidwejustfeelandexperience?Whatisbestforthe
group?Whatisthelogicalchoice?Shouldwemakealogicalchoice?
OneElderspeaksupwithpassionaboutwhatshewitnessedwithinme.
AnotherquestionsifIcanbenamedanElderandalsobetheNagualWoman.CanI
beboth?
Athirdasksmetospeak.IsharemyexperienceontheplatformasbestIcanputin
words.Thegroupgoesbackintosilence.
Iamamazedtodiscoverthatthegroup’sdecisiondoesnotaffectmyexperience,my
knowing.Forwhatfeelslikethefirsttimeinmylife,myinnerknowingtrumpsany
opinionofanyoneoutsideofme.Iamthenagualwoman,whethernamedornot.
WhatInowknow,theconnectiontospiritthatInowfeelcannotbewitheredbythe
world.Itcannotbediminished.IseewithclaritythatIamanagual,aShamanGirl,
butIamalsohuman.Itwillbemychoiceandmypathtodeterminewhichbrilliant
sideofmeInurture:thepowerofspiritorthehumanwithallitsdoubtsand
limitations.Thesetwowilldancewithinme,oneilluminatingtheother,foryearsto
come.ButitnolongermattersthatthereisapartofmethatdoubtsforIhave
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assertedmydirection:divine.Inthisroleofnagual,thisconviction,thiscertaintyis
minetopossessandsurrenderto.ItismygiftthatIwillsharefreely,justbebeing
whoIam.
Aftertimespentinmeditation,thespokespersongoesroundthecircle.Yes?Yes.
Yes?Yes.Yes?Yes…aconsensus.Iamthenewnagualwoman.
It’stimetogofindMioandupdatehimonhisnewEldersandnewnagualwomen.
Butfirst,weaddresspracticalmatters.Wemaybedivinebutourbelliesstillneed
foodtoeat.
TheLastSupper
Mioisholdingcourtattheendofthetable,jokingthathe’spickedhis12disciplesto
eatwithhimforthelastsupperofourmulti-stoptrip.We’reinthecourtyardofan
elegant,oldrestaurantinOaxaca,sequesteredawayfromthewholegroup,and
enjoyingawarmnightunderthestarswithdeliciousOaxacanfarespreadbeforeus.
Onceagain,Isitintheinnercircle,stillalittleheadyaboutallthat’shappenedsince
beingnamedthenagualwomaninMarzi.
TheconversationwhirlsaroundmeasItiltmyheadbackandgazeupatthestars.It
feelslikeI’vebeenlivinginamagicalworld.Idon’twanttoeverleavethisplace.Not
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Oaxaca,butthefeelingwithinme:uttercontentment,certainofmypath,expansive,
generous,abundant.
Myminddriftsbackoverthepasttwoweeks.Afterourpow-wowinMarzi,the
EldersandIchoweddown,thenmadeourwayenmassetoMio’sroom.Wespread
out,perchedontheedgesofthebedsincetherewerenochairsintheroom.Our
spokespersonrecappedwhathadhappenedafterweseparatedfromMioandthe
maingroup.HepresentedeachoftheElderstoMiointheirdesignatedrolesand
Miobeamedandclapped.Bravo.Goodjob.Yes.OurEldermostspokesperson
continuestooutlinehowweseetheEldersfunctioningandonourdecisionto
governbyconsensus.Mioisnoddingvigorously.“Youguysaredoingjustgreat.Iam
soproudofyou.ThisisjustwhatIwashopingfor.Now,whohaveyounamedasmy
nagualwoman?”
Miolooksupexpectantly.Thisisthefirsttimehe’sallowedanyoneotherhimself,
hissons,orlong-timeteacherstonameanagual.
“Meghanisthenewnagualwoman.”
Aflickerofsurprise,whichIonlyinhindsightregister,crossesMio’sface.Mio
recoversquickly.“Wow!Thisiswonderful.Congratulationssweetheart.Thisisa
surprise.Tellmehowthishappened.”
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Spokespersonspeaksonbehalfofthegroupsharingwhattheyseeinme.Miogives
meabighug.“That’sgreathoney.”TheEldersbringuptheirquestionastowhether
IamstillanElderandwhetherIwillcontinuetomeetwiththegroup.“Whyyes,”
Mioreplies.“MeghancanbepartoftheElderswiththespecialroleofnagual
woman.Anddon’tforgottoincludePinkinyourcommunicationswhenyoureturn
totheStates.”TheEldershavespoken,arethanked,anddismissed.
Asweturntoleavetheroom,Miobeckonstome,“Minagualita,”hesays.“Mi
nagualitaforthenewgeneration.Stayandtalkwithme,”heinvitesmetospend
timewithhim,usinganendearingtermforhisnew,youngnagualwoman.“Iwantto
hearallaboutyourexperiencetodayinthepyramids.Howdidthishappen?How
didyoubecomethenagualwoman?”
Helooksinmyeyesforalongmomentandthenoffintospace.Heseemstobe
assessingandlisteningtomeonanotherlevel,withearsbeyondtheonesattached
tohishead.IsensethatheistiredandsoIquietmyselfsoIcanbestsummarize
whathappenedtoday.Hegivestoomuchofhimselftoeveryone.Ifeelprotectiveof
himandaboutimpingingonhisrestingtime.
TheonlyexplanationIcanreallyofferis,“Thelight.”Istruggletoputintowords
whathappened.Ifeelalittlesillytryingtoexplainmyexperiencestohim,hewho
hastraveledtoinfinityandbeyondforgenerations.Ihaven’tspentmuchtimewith
himalonesoIamabitnervousinhispresence.Idomybesttocommunicate
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withoutwords,energetically.Isayafewwordsaboutwhathappenedwiththe
Eldersandthenfallsilent.
Afteralongpause,Mioseemstobringhimselfbackintotheroom.“Thisiscertainly
asurprise.Agoodone,”headds.“Youareverypowerful,minagualita.”
IamsodelightedatmywholedaythatIcompletelymissthesub-textofMio’s
surprise.Itakeittomeanthathe’ssurprisedbecauseIamsoyoung.Iamstill
utterlycluelessthathissurpriseisthattheEldersdidnotnameBabs–andthatI
hadenoughpowertoclaimthetitleofthenagualwoman.“Okay,sweetheart.Ineed
torestnow.Wewilltalkmoresoon.”
Babs,ofcourse,continuestobehisteachingpartnerinMarziandbeyond,butfor
therestofthetrip,hemakesapointtobringmeuptothefrontoftheroom,tokeep
myclosebyhisside.TheEldersreportintotheentirebodyofEwoksandMiogives
meapieceofbeautifullycarvedobsidianfromMarziinrecognitionofmynewrole.
Congratulationsallaround.IhavenoideathatmebeingnamedTHEnagualwoman
throwsakinkintoMio’splansorthatiscausesanykindofdisturbanceintheforce
field.
WeleaveMarzi.SomeoftheEwoksandEldersheadhome,othersofusare
continuingontoOaxacaandmeetinganothergroupofstudentswhoareontheir
waythere.IsayfarewelltoAirman,whoisoneoftheEwoksheadinghome,then
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turnmyattentiontoexploringanewpartofMexico.Therearerumoredtobemany
sacredsightsscatteredthroughouttheregion–thereisMonteAlban,butnoone
maincityasprominentandspectacularasMarzi.Aftermynowtoomanytocount
ononehandtripstoMarzi,I’mlookingforwardtoexperiencingsomeplacenew.
InOaxaca,theparticipants,morenewerstudentsthanDreamers,aredividedamong
theteachersintosub-groups.ItagalongbyMio’sside,roamingamongstallthe
groupsashisnagualwoman,untilYesDocfallsill.She’stoosicktotakehergroup
outeachday,soMiodesignatesformetostepintoherplace.
Iambeaming–andscaredshitless.Ihavebeenanassistantteachercountlesstimes
inMarziandatworkshops,andforthatonedayinPeru,butthisisthefirsttimeI’ve
hadanongoinggroupthatI’mnowresponsiblefor,forthedurationofthetrip.To
topitalloff,I’veneverbeentoOaxaca,whilemostoftheotherteachershave,soI
amunfamiliarwiththesights,howtonavigatethecrowdsandtheguards,and
wherethesweetspotsofenergyare.ButifMiobelievesIcandoit,Ican.AndIdo.
WestopatMonteAlban,Mitla,smallersacred,ancientarcheologicalZapotecsites.
Aswedisembarkfromthebusatonethat’snotsoknownorprominent,attheend
ofalongroadinasleepyvillage,Miogatherstheteacherstogether.“Youknowwhat
todo.Takeyourgroups.Go.”
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Iwashopingforabitmoredirection,butthisiswhatI’vebeengiven.Iroundupmy
groupandtakeoff,trustingthatmyintuitionandmyabilitytotrackenergywilltake
metotheexactrightspot.Imarchoff,mygroupfollowingbehindlikelittle
ducklings,determinedtoupholdMio’sfaithinme.Ivaguelyregistertheother
teachersstillhuddledinagroup,conferringwheretogoandwhattodo.Nomatter,
I’moffwithmyduckies.
Ihaveanincredibledaywithmygroup,eachpersongoingdeepintotheirprocess,
discoveringpreciousnuggetsofinsight.Thereishealingonsomanylevels.
Thatnightweareinateacher’smeeting.Someoftheteachersarecomplaining
aboutusstoppingatthelastsitebeforeMioenterstheroom.Noenergythere.No
mythologytouse.Notmuchtogoon.Whaa.Blah.Blah.Mioentersandlistensfor
about30secondsbeforeheerupts.Hedressesdowntheteachersforadaywasted.
Therearenoexcuses.Thereisnotimetolose.ThenhepointsoutthatItookmy
hand-me-downgroupofpeopleIhadn’tbeenworkingwithforthepastfewdays,
andwithoutapeep,letthemconfidentlyoffintotheruins.
Iamflabbergasted.Mioissparseinhispraise.AndIcan’tbelievewhatiscomingout
oftheveteranteacher’smouths.Aren’ttheysupposedtobeexpertsinthisspiritual
stuff?Theyhavedoubtstoo?Ihadheldthemuponpedestals,notrealizingthatthey
weremortalliketherestofus.AndIcertainlydidn’tfeelconfident,butIactedwith
convictionandauthoritybecausethatwastherolebestoweduponme.
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Thetripcontinuestosurpriseme.Iamfilmed,alongsideMio,baptizingparticipants
inHierveelAguahotsprings.Ihavetoshakemyheadthatthissecond-generation
lapsedCatholicishereplayingJohntheBaptistinthemiddleofMexico,caughton
televisionnoless(althoughIbelieveanyfootageofmewaseditedout,focusing
solelyonMio,sothankfullynoevidenceforapotentiallyastonishedPittsburgh
crowd).
Mybiggestmarvelhappensonenightingroup.IhavejuststeppedinasYesDoc’s
replacementandhardlyknowthenames,letalonepersonalhistoryofthe
participantsinmymini-group.Isuggestthateachpersonsharestheirexperienceof
thedaysoIhavetimetocatchup,getuptospeed,andstarttoseewhereeachisin
theirprocess.Onebyone,theygoroundtheroom.
ThenwelandonSuture.WhatIknowaboutSuture?Heisincrediblybrainy.Jewish.
Cantellajokeorstorywiththebestofthem.Hasn’tdonemuchwithMiobefore.
Andherewithhiswife,Hawk.WhatIdon’tknowaboutSuture.Hisprofession.
Ashe’sspeaking,ratherintellectuallyabouthisday,Ihaveanoverwhelmingurgeat
askhimtostopspeakingandliedown.Allofhisenergyisstuckinhishead.It’s
almostpainfultowitness.IhavenoideawhyIamaskinghimtoliedown,butIsit
cross-leggedbyhisside,closemyeyes,andputmyhandsonhisheart.Icansense
hisdiscomfortwithmetouchinghiminthisway.Afterall,hedoesnotknowmeand
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althoughmytouchiscompletelyaboveboard,itisaratherintimatewayto
introduceourselves,ifyou’renotusedtomyspiritualset.Hesquirmsforafew
momentsbeforequietingdown.Thegroupgathersaroundhimandplacestheir
handsonhisfeet,hisarms,hishead.
NextthingIknow,myhandsaremoving.I’mperforminghearttransplantsurgery
onhim.It’svitalthatthismanreceiveanewheart.I’mputtinghimunder
anesthesia.Hisbreathingslows.Itakemyfinger,whichisapparentlynowascalpel
andpullhischestopen.Iinsertclampstoholditwide,whileIstarttoremovedark
specksofenergyfloatingaroundtheopening.Myhandsaremovingontheirown
accord.Icut,clamp,cauterize,sew.Ipullhisheartoutofhischest,offerit
triumphantlytothesun.AnewheartishandedtomeandImakethetransplantinto
hischestcavity.Icleanoutofwound,clearalifetimeofwoundingsfromthischakra
center.ThenIcloseuphischest,carefullysewingitupwithsutures.
Hecomesto,seeminglyuncertainabouthissurroundings.Aswesithimup,he
clutcheshischest.“Wow.Wow,”isallhecanutter.Thesharingcontinuesashe’sin
recovery,looingstunnedbytheoperation.
Thenextdayhecomesandthanksme.Heisanewman.Hecan’tbelievetheshiftin
howhefeels.Forthefirsttimeinmanyyears,he’sfeeling.Outofhishead.Thank
you.
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Iaccepthisthanks.YetdeepdownIknowitwasn’tmewhoperformedthatsurgery.
LifeordereditupforhimandIobliged.Allinaday’sworkasanagualwoman.
Many,manymoonslater,IfinallylearnwhatSuturedoeswhenhe’srecountingthe
taletoagroupofraptlisteners.Hehasawaywithpunchlines.“Yep.HereIam,on
thistripthatmywifehalfdraggedmeon,notbelievinganounceofthisnonsense,
andshe,”hethrowsathumbinmydirection,“performsananatomicallycorrect
hearttransplant–onaheartsurgeon!Thatgotmyattentionandmadeabeliever
outofme.”
Thegrouproarsinlaughter,whilemymouthdropstothefloor.HadIknownthat
Suturewasarenownedheartsurgeon,Iprobablywouldhaveneverhadtotheballs
toperformaratherwoo-woohands-onsurgeryonhim.
Mioisclinkinghisglasstogetthegroup’sattentionandthiscatapultsmeoutofmy
reverie.Heisthankingusforbeinghere,inhispresencetonight.Hereiteratesmuch
ofwhathesaidinMarzi.Greatchangesarecoming,fortheplanetandforusEwoks.
Hewillalwaysbewithus.Wecancallonhimatanytime,buthewillnolongerbeas
availableinthephysical.Thisistheendofacycle.
Mostofusnodandsmile.We’veheardMiodeclarenumeroustimesthatchangesare
abouttooccur.Another“52year”cycle.Hethreatenstostopteachingallthetime,
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thenhisattentiongetshookedagaininsomenewwayorwithsomenewgroupof
inspiringstudents.
WedisburseintotheOaxacannight,gaywithhappiness,highonlife.Readyto
returntothecomfortsofhomeattheendofanothersuccessfulspiritualpower
journey.
TwodaysafterourreturntotheStates,Miohasamassiveheartattack.Hewillbein
acomaformonths,noonesureifhewillsurviveorwhohewillbeifheevergreets
usontheotherside.
Hiswordsandpredictionswerenotjustanotherwarningaboutthegeneralstateof
affairsonplanetEarth.Hewasn’tnamingtheEldersandanagualwomantomixit
up.Hewaspreparingusforhisheartexploding,hisretirement,multiplemedical
challengesandprocedures,andeventuallyahearttransplantofhisown.Hewas
preparingusfortheendoftheEwokworldasweknewit.
TheDisconnect
Miohoversbetweenlifeanddeath,whileusEwokshavetomakeachoice:arewe
goingtostepupandshutuporcurlupanddieourselves?Arewealltalkorwillwe
embraceLife?Reallylivethedreamofheavenonearth,ofpersonalfreedom,of
beinginourpower?Manyofustalkedagoodgameaboutbeingapowerlessnagual,
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butwithourfearlessleaderoutofcommission,whatdidwebelievenow?More
importantly,howwouldweactnow?
WouldwekillDreaming,cancelupcomingevents?Orshowupandshareourdream
withtheworld?WithoutMioactivelyproppingupourgroupandourdreams,each
ofushadtoexamineourcommitmenttoourownprocess,toDreaming,toour
visionofanewdreamtakingrootonearth.WasthisaboutMio,thehuman,beingin
frontofthegroup?Wasitaboutbaskinginhisenergy?Orcouldweupholdand
sustainourconnectiontospiritandtolivingfromintegrityandlove?
Thereischaos.Uncertainty.Doubt.
Theneachandeveryoneofusstepsuptotheplate-particularlyBabs,whotakes
overDreamingandmanagestocommandourrespectwithauthority.Inourfirst
DreamingwithoutMio,sheasksustore-examineourrelationshipwithhimand
defineanewone.
Huh?Isn’tMiomyteacherandnowhe’sgone?
Notsofastnow.He’snotentirelyoutofthepictureyet.Dig.Digalittledeeper.
Thisassignmentsendsmetumblingdownarabbitholethroughtime.Fouryears
ago,ImetMio,utterlyunfamiliarwiththespiritrealm.Hetaughtmetofly,toletgo
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ofallthelimitationswithinmyGoodGirlprogram,andbeabletoaccessmy
connectiontospirit.Hisunconditionalloveandsearingwisdompenetratedmysoul,
strippingawaywhatwasn’ttrueandwhatdidn’tmatter.Thisreflectionallowedthe
realme,thetruthofwhoIam,tocomeshiningthrough.Icametohimincrisis,over
MexicanMan,andnowIwasanagualwoman,aShamanGirl.Itwasastunning
transformation.Unbelievable,really.Icouldhardlyrecognizethegirlwhocameto
himheartbrokeninCarrot-topandQ-tip’slivingroom.Iwasawomannow,anagual
woman,inbody,mind,andspirit.
Iwasreadytosoaronmyown,andyetIknewIwasn’tfullycooked.Iwasreadyto
takeevenmoreresponsibilityformyevolution,butIloved–andtruthbetold,
needed,thesupportandpropulsionoftheDreaminggroup.Iwasstaying.
SowhatwasmyrelationshipwithMionow?Miopullssomedazzlinglyshamanistic
stuntsfromanunconsciousstateinhishospitalbed,oblivioustotheworldaround
him.Hisenergy,nolongersocloselytiedtohiseverydayandbodyisfreetoroam.
Androamhedoes,tootheruniversesandrealms,butalsopoppingupinmykitchen
oratwork.InMiowithdrawinghisphysicalpresenceinmylife,Iwasabletotap
intohisspiritpresenceevenmorestrongly.Idreamtwithhimatnight,felthim
hoveringnearmebyday.Iwouldslipbetweenworldsoften.Myownawarenessof
myspirit,andhowthisguidedmedailyinmyownlifewasclosertothesurface.The
veilsbetweentheworldofseenandunseenwerequitethin,lifted.Thenagual
infusedthetonaleversoclearly.
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Aftermonthsinacoma,ittakesMadreEvetohaulMio’sassbacktotheplanet.He’s
notgoinganywhereifMadreEvehasasay-andhastostayonthisplanetby
herself.Heawakens,buthastore-learnhowtotalkandwalk,andwhoallthese
peoplearesurroundinghim.Hegoesintoretirementasheundergoeshisrecovery.
Eventually,hereturnstoteachDreaming,whichcontinuesforyears.AndIthought3
yearswasalongcommitment.IbecomeathirdyearDreamer,afourthyear
Dreamer,aSeer,afifthyearDreamer,andfinally,sometimeduringthesixthyear,
DreamingwithMiodissolves.Yetitliveson,ontheEastCoastasTitaisauthorized
toopenaDreamingschoolthereandIamtappedtobeherco-teacher.Nearly10
years,adecade,ofdevotingtoweekendsonce,sometimestwiceamonth,plus
countlesspowerjourneystorelearninghowtolivefrommyheartandsoul.
AsIlookbackonthistimeoflivingandbreathinginMio’sworld,whatstrikesme
themostisthatIneverconnectedthedots.NeveroncedidIthink,“Hey!I’m
studyingwithashaman!”AndwhileIwitnessedplentyoffaroutcosmiccocktails,
forthemostpart,alltheenergeticgymnasticswereaho-hum,parforthecourse
partofmyeverydaylife.PerhapssomethingIhidfrommixedcompany,butnothing
thatmademyheadexplodeorcausemetoseriouslyconsidercheckingintoan
insaneasylum.
What,how,whythedisconnect?
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WhiledatingMexicanMan,Iwassubmergedintoaforeignworld.Iswamsofarout
ofmyelement,thatIcouldn’tseewhatwasrightinfrontofme:hewaslyingand
cheatingleftandright.IspokeandheardthingsinSpanishthatIwouldneverhave
givenmyselfpermissiontosayandneverhavebelievedinEnglish.Livinginanother
language,inaneighborhoodsofarfrommyupbringing,causedaschismwithinme.
IamnotfamiliarwiththerulesthatgovernthisworldsothereforeIassumeit
operatesoutsidemyframeofunderstanding.Everythingissoexoticandexciting
thatIamwillingtooverlookandexcusemuchofwhathappensaroundme.
Anythingbizarrethathappenswithinitcanbewrittenofftomymisunderstanding
andnaiveté.MexicanMan’sworldisseparatefromtherestoftheworldandfrom
therestofmylife.
Thisdisconnectfrommycenter,fromtrustingmyintuitionnomatterwhattongue
waswhisperinginmyearcausedsomuchheartbreak,drama,andsuffering.Butit
gavemethegiftofawakening.
Likewise,droppingintoShamanWorldtakesmeevenfartherasunderintoan
unfathomablerealm–thisonefullofintegrity,butequallyunusual.Miocallshimself
anagual.Hehaspowersbeyondmycomprehension.Istepinsidehisdream,where
themagicalhappenseveryday.Whathappensinthisworldisnotoftheeveryday
world.AlthoughIdomybesttolivewithininnerpeaceandpurposeatworkandat
home,Idonottrytotranslateorexplainmyexperiencestomyworkadayself.Even
thoughheispowerful,IdonotconsiderMiotobeashaman,nordoIcallmyselfone.
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Nagual,yes.Icanacceptthis,wearthiswordproudlybecauseitissoalien.But
shaman?That’sabitweird.
Thisdisconnectcausedmetodenymytrueselfformanyyears,topushtheshaman
asideinthenameofnormal,inthenameofmaterialsuccess.Iblendedin,
chameleon-like,notwantingtoshowmyhealinghands.Notwantingtorevealmy
gifts,mywoo-wooweirdness.Inmyhomeandinmyrelationships,yes.Ilivethe
dream.Butinthebig,badouterworld,nothankyou.Let’skeepthisshamanshit
underwraps,quiet.SoIplungeforward,continuingtostudythetoolsoftheshaman
trade,withoutreallyadmittingtomyselfwhatIwasupto.
Playingwithshamansdoesn’tgiveyoutheluxuryofhidingoutforeverthough.The
truthwillalwaysrisetothesurface.Lightwillworkitsmagic.Darkdeniedbitswill
comeintothelight,intofullconsciousness.
Mio’sdisappearingactopensaportalintothenextphaseofmylife.WithMioless
available,BabsleadsthechargeasthenewDreamingteacher.Shecallsuponmany
ofthebuddingteacherstoaccompanyherwithanewDreaminggroupthatforms.
Andthat,myfriends,bringsShamanGuyintomylife.Hewillrockmyworld,knock
mysocksoff,challengemeineverywaypossible.Heismynagual,themanofmy
dreamsandthensome.
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StudyingwithMiowaslikelearningtorideabikewithtrainingwheels.Abit
wobbly,alotoffun.Mostly,itgotmegoing.ButassoonasShamanGuyenteredthe
picture,lifebecameinfinitelymorezestyandinteresting.Andmywild,zanyShaman
Girlselfstartedshiningthroughinallhergloryofvibrantcolors.
Part3:Hot,HunkyShamanLove
ShamanGirlMeetsShamanGuy
Readyforsomegoosebumps?ShamanGuyaskedmetomarryhimonourfirstdate.
TwoweekslaterweweremarriedontopofthePyramidoftheSuninMexicobyMio
andhissonDos.
Waitforit.Waitforit.Yes,letthatsinkin.Goon,shakeyourhead.It’scrazyIknow.
Anditcouldhaveturnedouttobeanutterdisaster.Somuchcouldhavegone
wrong.Imeanreally?Whogetsmarriedlikethat?Andhowdidweknowwe’dbe
compatibleforlife?(We’velastedadecade,arejustgettingstarted,anditstillfeels
insanelygood.)Luckilyforme,it’sthebestthingthateverhappenedtomeinmy
life.
Ifyoucorrectlyrecall,Wappyraisedmeinathoroughly70sfeministway.Her
mantraforyearswas“Wedon’tdomarriageandwedon’tdobabies.”Soneedlessto
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sayIwasn’toneofthosegirlswhogottorunaroundinapinktutuandenvisionher
dreamwedding.No,Iwasoutfittedinbusinesssuitsandexpectedtoruletheworld.
IfaithfullycarriedoutthismandatethebestIcouldforyears–untilImetMio.Then
theShamancrazinessstartedleakingthrough.Decisionsweremadebasedona
whim,afeeling,awhisperingofthewind.Andthosedecisionshavebeenthemost
powerfuland“right”onesinmylife.Pre-ShamanGuy,Istillhadn’tgivemuch
thoughttogettingmarriedorhavingbabies.Itjustwasn’thighonmytodolist-
untilShamanGuy,themanofmydreams,enteredthepictureandrockedmyworld.
SohowdidIgofromallbusinesstostandingonapileofrocksinthemiddleof
MexicodressedinallwhitewithShamanGuyweddedatmyside?
Itwasn’taprettystart.Let’srewindthereelabitandstartatthebeginning.
ShamanGuyappearedontheEwoksceneatamitoteinSanDiego.Hehadgone
throughaheartbreakofhisown,readMio’sbook,andtrackedhimdownatThe
OmegaInstituteinNewYork(ayearbeforeMio’sheartstoppedtemporarily
working.)TheOmegaInstituteisthenew-age“university”oftheEastCoastwitha
vastarrayofworld-classguruspassingthrougheachsummercoveringeverytopic
underthesunandthensome.SpendingaweekwithMioopenedShamanGuy’seyes
toanotherwayofseeingtheworld–throughtheeyesoflove.(Everybodytogether
now,ahhh….)ItalsoputhimintouchwithTita,whoco-taughtwithMioatOmega
andwhocreatedagroupontheEastCoasttobringMio’steachingstothe“right
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coast”fromthe“leftcoast”afewtimesayear,whichyep,eventuallyleadtotheEast
CoastDreaminggroup.Butwearegettingaheadofourselveshere.ShamanGuy
decidedtopre-empttheprocessandcheckoutwhatMio/Titawereallabouton
theirhometurfinSanDiegoattheovernightceremonyonatriptoCalitovisithis
brother.
Mitoteswerebigdealsinthosedays,andhadgainedinfrequencyandpopularity
sincemyfirstoneinLosAngelesthatcausedWappytofreakout.Knownfor
creatingquiteanenergeticbuzz,itwastheitgatheringforallofuscrazylocoswho
wantedtostayupallnightandseethesunrise.SoAirManandIdrovedownfrom
LA-LAlandtobepartoftheactionandassistwiththeceremony.Wewerethecute
youngcouple,joinedatthehip,whoflowedbetweentheyoungerpackdiscovering
self-awarenessandtheold-timersandteacherswhohadacliqueoftheirown.Our
namewasusuallysaidasifitwasone,inonebreath,MegandAirMan.Weofcourse
dressedinawardrobethatfeaturedblack,blackandmoreblack,asallhipstersfrom
LAdidthen.Andwithourmatchingdarkhairandpaleskin,I’msureweappeareda
bitvampire-ish.
Weblewinrightastheeventwasgearingup,huggingandkissingourwaypastall
thefamiliarfacesandnoddinghelloatthenewerones.Therewereagood30people
nestledintoTita’shouseakaretreatcenter.Theceremonystartedwithabrief
explanationoftheceremonyandthenwetookashortwalkdowntothebeach,
wherewewatchedthesundipoverthehorizon.Reconveningbackatthehouse,
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everyonegatheredaroundanaltarinthemiddle,litcandles,andcalledinthe
elements.Aftermeditatingforanhourorso,thegroupbrokeupintofoursubgroupseachtakingaturntendingthealtarforanhourwhiletheothergroupsslept.
Doneproperly,theritualbecomesadanceofwakingandsleeping,sittingatthealtar
andmovingthegroupsabout.
WhatwasmyfirstimpressionofShamanGuy?Ihaveabsolutelynorecollectionof
him.None,zero,zip.ThefirsttimeImeettheloveofmylifeandeventualfatherof
mychildIhavenoawarenessofhim,notaninkling.
WhenShamanGuylatertoldmeaboutbeingatthatmitoteandhisclearmemoryof
mewalkingintheroomwithAirManlookinglikedeathwarmedover(ShamanGuy
couldn’tbelievethatanyonelivinginsunnyCaliforniacouldpossiblybesopale,let
alonetwoofuslookingthatway),Ididn’tbelievethathewasthere.Imeanit’s
possiblethatIdidn’tseemuchofhimbetweenmylatearrival,headingtothebeach,
thegroupscomingandgoingtothealtarandthegeneraldeliriuminducedbyalack
ofsleep.AndgrantedIwasinarelationshipsoIwasn’texactlycheckingoutother
guys.Butyou’dthinktherewouldbeatleastsomelittlesomethingsomething
alertingmetothefuturefantastic-nessthatwastocome.Alasno.Sureenough,
ShamanGuywasatthemitoteandIwasoblivious.Needlesstosayitwasn’ta
memorablefirstencounter.Itwouldtakeafewyearsforallthestarstobein
alignmentandforthesparkstofly.
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TakeTwo&IReallyDon’tLikeThisGuy
SixmonthspassandShamanGuydecidestocomehookupwiththeleftcoastgroup
atourbigannualEasterretreatinArizona.MioisMIA,currentstatus:comatose.But
Babs,theElders,andtheDreamershaveralliedtoputontheeventregardless.The
dreammustgoon.
ShamanGuypulleduptothemainentranceoftheretreatcenterwithSuave,
anotherMio/TitaapprenticeandShamanGuy’snewbestbudandsoulbrother.The
twoofthemswaggeredoutofSuave’struck,laughingandhigh-fivingeachother.
Headsswiveled.Bothofthemgood-looking,confidentandvirile-lymasculine,they
werefarfromthenormofyoga-pantwearing,gentlyloving,beta-malesthattended
todrifttowardspiritualwork.Theywalkedasiftheyownedtheplace.Andletme
justsayIimmediatelydislikedhim.
Commentsflewamongthoseofusorganizingtheevent.Whoisthat?Whodothey
thinktheyare?WaituntilLaDonagetsaholdofthem!Wecouldseeacollision
coursebetweentheirratherlargeegosandthegranddameoftheevent.Withgreat
satisfaction,wewatchedastheyapproachedLaDona,obviouslyeagerforher
attention,onlytobeswattedawaylikeflies.(YearslaterIlearnedwithevengreater
gleethatSuaveandShamanGuyhadabettoseewhowouldhavethebiggest
cojonestoaskLaDonaoutonadateandgeta“yes.”Neithersucceededineven
gettinguptotheaskingpart.Ah,boys.)
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Myoh-so-enlightenedandnon-judgmentalopinionwasthatShamanGuywas
arrogantandfullofhimself.Mygirlfriendswerehappytobackmeuponthisoneso
aconsensusformedaroundnotlikinghim–althoughsecretlyIthinkweallhada
slightcrushonhim.Isn’thowthatoftenworks?Thegirlsittingnexttoyouinmiddle
schoolwhoyoucan’tstandendsupbecomingyourbestfriend?Theguywhoyou’d
neverdateturnsintoPrinceCharming?
Ofcoursethepowersthatbe,whethertheycamefromtheuniverseorfromoneof
theelderteachers,sawtoitthatShamanGuywasplacedinmygroupfortheevent.
ButsinceIwasbothrunningtheeventandteaching,Iscarcelygavehimanother
thought.Theweekendflewbyandsoonthedesertwindblewhimbackacrossthe
countrytotheeast.
Taketwo…andI’mthoroughlyunimpressed.
TheRejection
NexttimeIencounterShamanGuyisinSedona,thelandofvortexes,stunningred
rocks,andwoo-wooworshippersofeverykind.He’sjoinedthenewDreaming
Groupthat’sformed,withBabsastheheadhoncho.I’minSedonawithAirManas
we’renowinthethirdyearoftheDreamingprogramandhavebeguntoassistBabs
withthenewbies,thenewgroupoffirstyearDreamers.
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OurDreamingGroupfitsrightintotheSedonascene,campingoutonceamonthat
theSedonaCreativeLifeCenterforourweekendretreats.ShamanGuyhasdecided
topackuphisentirelifeandthethen12-yearoldKaiandrelocatetoCaliforniasohe
canstudywithMiofull-time.HepulledintoSedonawithhisDodgeDakotatruck
filledtothebrimwithallhisworldlypossessionsmakinghiswaywesttoCali.Kai
wouldfollowshortly,intimetostartthenewschoolyear,afterspendingsometime
withhismombackeast.
Theweekendopenswiththegroupsittinginalargecircle.Moststudentsare
equippedwithaDreamingchairtobettersitlong,stillhoursin,andanotebookfor
recordingeveryutteranceoutofBabs’month.Thereisapalpabletensionintheair
asmostofthenewbieshaveseenaglimpseofthecommitmenttheyhavemadeto
themselvesandthisprocesslastmonthatthefirstgathering.Andthereisadawning
realizationthatthereissomuchmoretocome,whichinevitablyshakesbeliefsto
theircore,cracksheartsopen,andresultsintemporarychaosandchangeinmany
participants’lives.Yettheresults–ajoyous,drama-less,successfullifewithan
unwaveringconnectiontosource–areworththetears,frustration,andsurrender
thatareinevitablypartoftheprogram.
ShamanGuymissedthefirstweekend–hisoneandonlyexcusedabsencetakenup
bypackingtomoveWest–sohemissedthefoundationalteachings.Babslaunches
inforareview,“Youareapredator.Youfeedonyouremotion.Youtakeyour
naturalhumanemotionsandcreatedramaoutofthem.Youamplifythemandhurt
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yourhumanbodyintheprocess.Youfeedonself-importance,onneedingto
diminishothers.Yourprimaryjobindreamingistoacknowledgewhoyouareand
takeresponsibilityforyourself–apredatorofyourownbody.Then,withthis
honestawareness,youcanredeemyourselfsothatyoustopsufferingandbecome
consciousness.Notasalovelyconcept,notasafewwordsthatyou’vejotteddown
inanotebook,butassomethingthatyou’veabsorbedandexperienced,sothatthis
consciousnessbecomesyou.”Icanfeelthemindsspinningintheroomtryingto
graspthisnewwayoflookingatthemselvesandwhatwealldotoourselves
withoutawareness.
Withoutmissingabeat,Babslaunchesin,“Let’sgetstartedonyourhomework.Each
ofyouobservedyourselfasapredatoranddeterminedwhatyouaremostaddicted
to.We’llstarttomyleft.”
Eerily-reminiscentofa12-stepprogram,adreamerstandsupandsays,“Mynameis
Kim.IamapredatorandIamaddictedtoguilt.”Onebyone,theDreamersstandup
revealingtheiraddictions-toembarrassment,beingright,anger,feelingunlovable,
thelistrunson.Thegroupcoversthewholegambitofhumanemotionaladdictions.
It’sdisturbinganduncomfortabletoshinethelightonyourinner-moststrugglesin
frontofthegroup,butthesewarriorsaregoingforit.ShamanGuyissittingafew
peopletotherightofBabssoheisoneofthelastpeopletostandupandspeak.He
standsandsays,“IamanangelandIamaddictedtolove.”
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Theroomgaspsandbecomesshockinglystill.ShamanGuyisnotfollowingthe
program.Babsgiveshimagood,meaningfullookof“Okay,buster,I’llbedealing
withyoulater”andsheinvitesthenextparticipanttostand.Ouf,shehasherwork
cutoutforherwiththisone.
Atbreak,everyoneishangingout,thankfulfortherespiteinintenseinnerwork.The
conversationturnstoreminiscingaboutpastworkshopsandevents.Anandastarts
talkingaboutherexperienceatarecentmini-powerjourneythatTitaheldin
Sedonawithmyassistance.Sheacknowledgedhowpowerfulithadbeentocome
andsitwithmewhenIwasholdingthespaceoftheAngelofDeath.Thisangelis
presentinoureverydaylife,takingawaywhatwenolongerneedandmakingroom
fornewcreations.Inceremony,eachpersonapproachedme-inthemiddleofa
somewhatnarrowstonearchwaythatconnectedtothewallsspanningagorge-and
offeredwhatnolongerservedthemintheirlives–theirshame,theirdoubt,their
heartbreak.WhileIdon’tnormallywalkaroundprofessingtobeanangel,letalone
theAngelofDeath,adistinctenergyhadsurgedthroughmeandmanypeoplelater
commentedonhowdifferenttheyfeltafterourtimetogether.
ShamanGuylookatmeintensely,catchesmyeyeandsmiles.Titahadinvited
ShamanGuyto“join”usinSedonaenergeticallysincehecouldn’tmakeitinperson.
SoShamanGuyspentmostofhisweekendbackinMarblehead,sittinginachairand
envisioninghimselfwiththegroup.TheentiretimewewereoutontherocksIhad
felthispresencestronglyeventhoughIhadnoknowledgethatTitahadaskedhim
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todreamwithus.Somehowhewasabletotransporthimselfthere,asIdreamtof
himatnightandcouldsensehimaroundduringtheday.Itwasonlylaterwhenwe
hadagroupfollow-upconferencecallwhereShamanGuysharedhisremote
experience,didIlearnthathehadbeenparticipatingfromafar.NotbadforaguyI
wasthoroughlyunimpressedwithlastencounter.
Thenextday,weareonlunchbreakandAirMan,ShamanGuy,ImpandIpileinto
theconvertiblethatImphasrentedfortheweekendandzoomofftoalocalpizza
joint.Wearegiddywiththesunshine,theenergy,andthegorgeousredrock
surroundingus.Wesettleintoatableontheoutdoorpatioandlapseintobantering
andteasingeachother.Impseemstobeleadingthebunch.
ManyguysinthegroupareplayfullyflirtatiouswithmeandAirMandoesn’tseemto
mind.Ibrushitoffaspuppyloveforateacher.Everyone’sheartsopenatweekends
likethisanddeep,long-lastingfriendshipsform.Manypeopledroptheirusual
barriersandbecomemoreplatonicallyaffectionatewitheachotherthantheymight
intheireverydaylifeastheyexposepartsoftheirinnerselfthatusuallydoesn’tget
talkedaboutinpolitecompany.Ofcoursethereissomehookinguptoo,butIfeel
safeandcontentwithAirManasmysteadymansoItendtobrushofftheinnocent
flirtingasharmlessandmeaningless.Besides,whoseegodoesn’tlovesittingata
tableofmenandhavingthemlavishattentiononyou?
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SuddenlyShamanGuyturnstoAirManandasks,“Sowhenareyougoingtomarry
thiswoman?”AirManandIhavebeendatingandlivingtogetherforseveralyears,
showupateveryeventtogether,andseemliketwopeasinapodtomostpeople.
AirManisalaid-back,gowiththeflowkindofguy,morepronetoseewherelife
takeshimthantomakeaconcretelong-termplan.AirMan’seyesglazeoverslightly
andwithashrugandasmile,hereplies,“Umm…geez…hum.Idon’tknow.”Shaman
Guylookshimdeadintheeyeandsays,“Wellifyou’renotgoingtoaskher,thenI
will.”
Alltheairhasbeensuckedoutofthepatio.Whathadbeenfunjestnowfeelsdeadly
seriousandreal.Theenergyatthetableispositivelypoppingandnotjustbecause
ShamanGuyhasbrokenconventionalsocialgracesbyinquiringaboutmarriage
plans.Heampsitupfurtherandlooksmeintheeyewithanupturnedgrin,“Will
youmarryme?”
Withoutthinking,thesewordscutthroughme,clearandcoolasamountainstream.
Theycomefromwhatfeelslikeanother-wordlytimeandplaceandaresaidwith
greatintent.“Afteracouplemoreheartbreaks,I’llconsiderit.”
Thatresponsegetsthetablehootingwithlaughter,butIamabitshakenbyit.“I”
didn’tutterthosewords;theywereamessagefromaforcegreaterthanmyself.I
shiverslightlydespitetheblissfullywarmairandbrushoffShamanGuy’scomment
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andmyresponseasoneofthosestudent-teacherinteractions.Luckily,thepizza
arrivesandwealldigin.
TheweekendfliesbyandthecircleisclosedonSundayafternoon.Thegroupbegins
todisperse,everyonegatheringtheirbelongings,chairs,andhuggingtheirgoodbyes.Iamsittinginthefrontoftheroom,onaraisedstonehearth,infrontofa
fireplace.Studentscomeovertothankme,toaskaquestion,orjusttosay,“Seeyou
nextmonth.”
ShamanGuycomesoverwhenthereisabreakinthecrowdandsitsdownbeside
me.HereachesoverandgrabsmyhandandIfeelajoltofenergypassthroughme
likenothingI’veexperiencedbefore.Webothcloseoureyesandsitquietlyforafew
moments,savoringtheintenseenergythat’sflowinginandaroundus.Afew
momentslater,herisestogatherhisthings.Again,Ithinklittleofthisassomuch
energyhasbeenreleasedandcreatedthisweekend–perhapsthissensationwasa
littlestrongerthanmost.Still,there’sanotherstudentwaitingtosaytheirfarewell
somyattentionmovesontowardthem.
Theroomhasclearedout.Likechildrenfreedfromschool,theDreamersarepingpongingaroundtheparkinglotastheypacktheircarstogohome.Thedoorsto
ShamanGuy’sDakotaareopenandhisCDplayerisplayingRickyMartin,oneofmy
favorites.IhopinandblastthemusicwhileAirManloadsupourluggage.Soona
bunchofusareboogyinginfrontofShamanGuy’struck.“She’sAllIEverHad”
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comeson,aslowballad,andmostofthegroupdisperses,butShamanGuygrabsme
andpullsmeintight.Ourbodiesmerge,fittingtogetherperfectly,ourbreathing
synchronizesandtimeseemstostandstill.Weareflowinginthisseaofintense
pleasure.Thewordsseemtoamplifytheemotion–andthisisnotonethata
predatorwouldlike.
HereIam.Brokenwings,quietthoughts,unspokendreams.
HereIam.AloneagainandIneedhernowtoholdmyhand.
She'sall,she'sallIeverhad.
She'stheairIbreathe.
She'sall,she'sallIeverhad
It'sthewayshemakesmefeel.
It'stheonlythingthat'sreal.
It'sthewaysheunderstands.
She'smylover,she'smyfriend.
AndwhenIlookintohereyesit'sthewayIfeelinside.
LikethemanIwanttobe.
She'sallIeverneed.
Somuchtime,soomuchpain(but)there'sonethingthatstillremains.
(It'sthe)Thewayshecaredtheloveweshared.
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Andthroughitallshe'salwaysbeenthere.
She'sall,she'sallIeverhadinaworldsocold,soempty.
She'sall,she'sallIeverhad.
It'sthewayshemakesmefeel.
It'stheonlythingthat'sreal.
It'sthewaysheunderstands.
She'smylover,she'smyfriend.
AndwhenIlookintohereyesit'sthewayIfeelinside.
LikethemanIwanttobe.She'sallIeverneed.
Iamsimultaneouslyfullypresentinmybody,notthinkingaboutwhatthismeansor
lookslike,andatthesametime,watchingthescenefromaboveasifinahelicopter,
capturingtheshotforeternity.Thesongends,andwelingerforamoment,standing
perfectlystill.ShamanGuylooksmetenderlyinmyeyesandreleasesme.
“Livin’laVidaLoca”isupnext(howapt)andwiththefirstnotesexplodingoutofhis
truck,IturnacatchaglimpseofAirManstandingofftothesidewithabrooding
lookonhisface.Ismile,uncertainaboutwhatjusthappened,andthenarushof
friendsjumpsinonthesong.Whateverfunninessofmyboyfriend,watchingme
dancewithanothermanwhohadaskedmetomarryhimthedaybefore,passesas
wealljumpintotwistingandshouting.
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Carsbegintopulloutoftheparkinglot.Lastminutearrangementsarebeingmade
aboutwhoneedsridestotheairportorbackintoPhoenix.ImpasksifI’dliketoride
backwithhim,withthetopdownonhisconvertible.Whocouldresistthatoffer?
AfteraquickconfirmationwithAirManthathe’sfinewithit,Isay,“Absolutely!”and
hopinwithImp,whoisbeaming.ShamanGuylooksalittlecrest-fallen.He’llbe
drivingbackwithjustAirMan.We’llrendezvousatafriend’shouseinPhoenixand
thenShamanGuyhasofferedtotakeAirMan,myself,andanotherDreamertothe
airportbeforehehitstheroadagainhimself.
Andwiththatplaninplace,weareoff!Onthemove,intheflow,happytobedriving
throughabeautifulpartoftheworldinaconvertible,Ithinknothingmoreofthe
weekendforyears.
ShamanGuy,however,hadfalleninlovewithme.Hecouldn’tbelievehisbadluck.
Stilllickinghiswoundsfromhislastheartbreak,hehadfoundthewomanofhis
dreamswhowasShamanGirltoboot,onlytodiscoverthatshewasalreadytaken.
Notwantingtorepeatcreatingmoreheartacheanddramainhislife,hedecidedto
cryhiswaytoCaliforniaandletmego,puttingmeoutofhismind.IwasAirMan’s,at
leastforthetimebeing,andherespectedthat.
Onthewaytotheairport,ShamanGuyplays“YourBodyisaWonderland”byJohn
Mayerinonelastattempttocommunicatehisfeelingstowardme.Inanotherhalf
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year,wewillbemarriedandplayingthissongatourweddingas“oursong.”Butfor
now,thelyrics“Damnbaby,youfrustrateme.Iknowyou'remineallmineallmine…
Takeallyourbigplans,Andbreak'em.Thisisboundtobeawhile”haveanentirely
differentmeaning.Iamclueless,inarelationship,andwillingtochalkupour
interactionsovertheweekendasjustanotherpartofthecrazypower-filledworld
ofshamansandteachersthatIwasincreasinglyapartof.Myheartisfullfromthe
weekend.His,though,ishurting.
Mywordstohimoverpizzaabouthavinganotherheartbreakwherestrangely
prophetic–onlyIhadnoideathattheheartbreakIwasreferringtohadtodowith
myself.AlthoughShamanGuywoulddateanumberofwomenoverthenextyear
beforeheandIgottogether,IwasofficiallyhislastheartbreakbeforeIdidindeed
consenttomarryhim.
TheDisastrousDinner
ShamanGuyandKaiareontheirwayoverfordinner.AirManandIarenowlivingin
SanDiego,havingmovedsothatIcouldrunMio’snon-profitorganizationandwe
couldbothbemoreinvolvedwithassistingattheeventssurroundingMio’shome
base.WeoftensocializewithotherofMio’sstudentsandteacherssoweperiodically
runintoShamanGuyatMio’sevents.ShamanGuyandAirMansharealoveforpingpongsoweoccasionallygoovertoShamanGuy’spadforagame.They’dbeoutside
onthepatiodukingitoutwithpaddleswhileKaiandIwoulddigintohisextensive
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LegocollectionandbuildmasterpiecesofLegoart.AirManandIhavedecidedit’s
timetohostthematourplaceandofficiallywelcomethemtoSanDiego.
SomehowIhavetheutterlymistakenideathatShamanGuyandKaiarevegetarian
andthattheyeatextremelyhealthy.LittledoIknowthatasbachelors,theyrotate
througharegularmenuofChinese,pizza,burgers,andpastaeachweek.Clueless,I
decidethatI’llmakeagluten-free,dairy-freeveggielasagna.Iknow,really.Idon’t
cookmuchwithAirMan,wetendtothrowtogetheraTraderJoe’smeal,butIam
quiteproficientinthekitchenwhenIwanttobegivenmytrainingasasouschef
withBazer’sChinesecateringbusiness.Unfortunatelyforeveryoneatthetable,
tonightisnotoneofthosenights.
IhavenevermadelasagnabeforesoIcompletelyunderestimatethepreptime,not
realizingthatthepastaneedstobecookedbeforeyouputitintotheovenandthen
there’stheassemblytimeforallthechoppedveggiesanddairy-freecheeselayers,
plusaratherlongbakingtime.
Totopitalloff,AirManandIhavehadanotheroneofourclassicarguments.Why
doesn’thethinktotakeoutthetrash,whichisoverflowingandishisjob,especially
whencompanyiscoming?Exasperatedsigh.Thevibeinourhouseisdefinitely
tensewhenShamanGuyandKaiwalkinthedoor.
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Theyarehungryasguys,especiallyagrowingalmostteenager,tendtobearound
dinnerhour.Let’sjustsayitwillbehoursbeforethesoggy,tastelesslasagnaisdone
andthefewchipsandsalsathatIhaveinthecupboardwillbelonggone.Finally,
nearing9pm,wesitdowntoeat.Notalotofcomplimentstothechefbutlotsof
pushingfoodaroundtheplate.Ialsohavenoideathatfora12-yearoldwithschool
tomorrow,thislatehour,combinedwithinediblefoodandadultconversation,is
borderingontorturous.
AirManandIsnipeateachotherthroughoutdinner.I’mnotpleasedwithmyselffor
throwingsucharottendinnerpartyandItakeitoutonAirmanwhoI’m
increasinglyfrustratedwith.IfeellikeIhavetodoitallandconstantlynagAirMan
tohelpout.Iplaytheroleofthematureresponsibleoneandheplaystheroleof
beingtakencareofwhilefloatingthroughlife.AlthoughIloveAirMan,I’m
increasinglynoticingthatmostlyourrelationshipiswell,justcomfortable.Itfeels
likedatingabrother,notalover.Afterthreeyearsofdatingandnowlivingtogether,
we’restartingtotalk–and/ornottalk–aboutgettingmarried.Afterall,I’m
approaching30andthat’swhatmostpeopledoright?Wesharealotofthesame
interestsandallthesamefriends,soitmakessensetotietheknot.Right?Maybe?
Notsosure.Fortonight,thehairlinefracturesinourrelationshipareshowing.So
muchforenlightenmentinthefaceofdisintegratingrelationship.
ShamanGuyandKaifinallyextractthemselvesfromadisastrousmeal.Monthslater,
ShamanGuyconfessestowhathappenedaftertheyleft.ShamanGuy,“Youhungry?”
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Kai,“Ohyeah!Thatwasterrible.”ShamanGuy,“Awful!Megishorriblecook.I’m
starving.HowaboutweheadtoIn‘nOutforaBurger?”Kai,“Yes!Thatwaspretty
bad.”ShamanGuy,“Yeah,I’dneverbeinarelationshipwiththatwoman.”
Haha.Inafewmonths,we’llbemarried.AndlittledoesShamanGuyknowthatI’m
actuallyagourmetcook.Tothinkhesaidyesthinkinghewasdoomedtoalifeof
horrendousmeals-nowthat’struelove.
MyDreamMan
TheSuperBowlisonandLini,PinkandIcouldcarelessaboutthegame,butweare
allaboutSuperBowlPartyfoodandanyexcusewehavetohangoutwitheach
other.Wehaveformedaself-satisfiedtroikainMio’sworld.Betweenthethreeofus,
wehandlecoordinatingmostofMio’sbusinessandpersonallife.Weareallinthe
Dreamingprogramandareasthickasthieves.Weoftensitonthecouchintheback,
whichwehavestakedoutasreservedexclusivelyforus,andwhisperamongst
ourselveswhileMioortheotherteachersareupfrontteaching.Notsurehowwe
gotawaywithit.
TodaywearesprawledoutonPink’sTVroomfloorsurroundedbyoniondip,
chickenwings,andnachosthatwehavemadefromscratch.Thegameison–on
mute–andwearechattingaway,amileaminute.OneofourDreamingassignments
istowritedownourvisionofwhatwewanttomanifestinourlives,focusingonthe
emotionalqualitythatwouldbepresent.Wedecidetodoourowntwistonthe
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homework–towritedownthequalitiesofourDreamMan.Valentine’sDayis
comingup,Pinkisnotinarelationship,AirManandIareinthefuzzykind-of
breakingupstagebuthaven’ttotallysorteditoutyet,andwecoulduseittoplay
ourfavoritegame–EwokMatchmaker.
I’vewrittendownmyideaofmyidealguymanytimesbefore.Darkhair,greeneyes,
businessman,butIhadneverreallydoneitwithintentfromtheperspectiveofhow
Iwouldfeelinarelationshipwiththisguy.Iclosedmyeyesforafewminutesand
thenstartedscribblingawayfrantically.IhadaclearpictureofwhatIwantedandit
hadnothingtodowithhairoreyecolor.HereiswhatIwrote:
Mydreammanisaman.Hehasastrengthandgrounded-nesstohim.Heisarockthat
Icanleanonashecanleanonme.Hefeelsandshareshisemotions.Wearepassionate
and love touching, kissing, caressing, making love. We laugh a lot and enjoy doing
many of the same things. He is confident, gentle, wise. He is an excellent father.
Present,participating,involved,emotionallyavailable,funwithbothourchildrenand
me.Heisgenerousandhasfinancialabundance.Heknowshowtomanagehismoney.
We spend money in similar ways. He is trustworthy, ethical, sincere, authentic,
interesting,intelligent.Heisspiritualandiscomfortablewithmyspirituality.Weenjoy
beingaroundeachother’sfriends.
There is an ease between us. He has already been ‘trained.’ He’s helpful around the
houseandtakesinitiative.Heisnotaburper,farter,drinkerorsmoker.Heisdirect.He
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allowsmetobefeminine.Bemyself.Irespecthisdreamandherespectsmineandwe
havenodesiretochangeeachother.Helovestohavemedressupandhealsolovesthe
naturalp.j.me.Helikestobuymesweetthings.Wehaveaclean,beautifulhousethat
iscomfy,welldecorated,fulloflightandloveandlaughter.Wetraveltogetherandcan
affordeverythingwewant.Wehaveincrediblesex.Heloveshisworkandhasplentyof
timetospendwithme.Heisveryhandsomeanddresseswell.Hesmellsgoodbothwith
andwithoutcologne.
Wegiveeachotherthespacetobeindependent.Heismynagual.Welightuparound
oneanother.Iamthewomanofhisdreams.Heisadreamerandamanifester.Heisin
hispower.Ilovebeingwithhisfamilyandhewithmine.Hehasfulljuicylipsandafit
body.Helikesbeingoutdoors.Heknowshowtopossessme.Iamhisandheismine.He
ishappybeingwithme.Wecommunicatewelltogether.Myheartfluttersaroundhim.
We desire each other. We’re romantic together. We say ‘I love you’ in words and in
actionsallthetime.Wearesogratefulforoneanother.Therearemanyhelpfulpeople
in our life. When we need to shift and adjust, it is easy and effortless. We sleep
intertwinedtogether.Ourdreamersanddreammatcheasily.Wemeetattheperfect
time.Wearewillingtocommittooneanother.Therearenootherpeopleinvolved.He
is willing to support me. I pull in energy to manifest for him, for me, for us. He has
integrity.Heisimpeccable.Heisatruepartner.Heisagoodcook.Helovestodance
(salsa)andhasrhythm.Heisnotjealous,noramI.Heisdiseasefree.
HeholdsmewhenIneedtobeheld.Wedonotexchangepoison.Wedonothave
mother-son/brother-sisterenergy.Wedonotneedtouseeachothertoresolveissues
orbalanceeachotherout.Heisnotaboy.Weinspireandstimulateeachother.George
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Clooney/JosephBortoli.JayLeno&hiswife.Wesharesimilarvalues.Hehuntsme.He
isNeo.Hetakescareofthings.Hetakescareofme.
Yepthatcoveredit.Nottoomuchtoask,right?
Lini,Pink,andIcomparelistsandLiniinsiststhatwealladdthislastlineasshe’s
experiencedbeinginarelationshipwhereonehalfwasmorethansatisfiedand
madlyinlovebuttheotherwasn’t.Sowealladd:
Iammadlyinlovewithhimandheismadlyinlovewithme.
Ilookatmylistoncemoreandhaveadawningrealizationthatitfeelslikearock
justwasdroppedintomyheart.AlthoughAirManisanamazingpersonandhas
manywonderfulcharacteristics,heisnotthedreammandescribedonthislist.Iam
nowclearthatwe’vereachedtheendofmyrelationshipwithAirMan.Isharemy
revelationwithmybestgalpalsabittearfully.Weallknowit’sbeenalongtime
coming.
Thenasalways,weboosteachother’sspiritsup.WestartanotherroundofEwok
Matchmaker.Wheneverweareboredorfeelingabitdevilish,we’llstartmatching
upfriendsinourspiritualcommunity.Whataboutherandhim?No?Himandher?It
doesn’tmatteriftheguyorgirlisinarelationshipornot,wejustamuseourselves
atthepossibility.Weareterribleatthisgameandnoneofourimaginarymatches
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everpan-out,butitcracksusupbecausethereareplentyofcharactersinourcircles
andplentyofhook-upstoo.
Talkturnstome.WhataboutyouandMulaBondaYogi?Hmm…no.HowaboutMr.
MilitaryMan?Noway!Howabout…ShamanGuy?Absolutelynot!Iwouldneverdate
him.He’ssococky!Andthegamegoeson.Tminus2monthsuntilourweddingand
counting.
LoveLetters
ThebuzzaroundtownisthatShamanGuyismovingbacktotheEastCoast.Aftersix
monthsinCali,hisfundsarerunningout.Heseesthathe’screatedafinancialmess
andthataspartofhistransformationalprocess,it’shisresponsibilitytocleanitup.
He’llmakeitbacktoDreamingweekendswhenhecan,butfornowhe’llgobackto
wherehehasajobandasupportivecommunitytomakesomebucks.Inamonth,
whenKai’sschoolgoesonbreak,they’llmakethemove.Meanwhile,AirManandI
aretryingtofigureouthowtoextractourselvesfromourrelationshipandourlease.
Thereisaminimalchance,averysmallwindowofopportunity,thatallthestarswill
alignandShamanGuywillbemyDreamMan,partofmylifeforever.OfcourseI
havenoideaofwhatisabouttoconspire.TheopeningsalvoisreceivedonFebruary
6,2003whenitpopsupinmyinbox.
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________
Ihavebeendreamingofyou.Cometravelwithme.
ILoveyou.
J
________
Braceyourself.Therearelotsof“Iloveyou’s”abouttocome.WhatcanIsay,we
wereinaspiritualcommunitythatwasallabouttheloveregardlessofwhetheryou
wereinaromanticrelationshipornot.
________
Tomyhero-
I'veheardthatyouareonajourneythatmaytakeyoufar,farfromhere.
Isthistrue?Ifso,Iwillbeverysadandhavetospendsometimeweeping...
Love,M
________
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Whatpossessedmetorespondthisway?Idonotknow.Butmyflirtatious,teaseall
theboyssidewascomingoutstrong.AndShamanGuyhadadistinctlookofanoldtimeVikingsoIoftenjokedabouthimhisVikingtendencies.
________
MyLove-
Weepnotforweareinseparable.Thisyouknow.Ourconnectionisnotoftheflesh
anyway(bummer!).
Hey,inlieuofabigMexicanstylebanquettableonyourpatio,howaboutourpingpongtable?UnlessaEwokrents/buysthisplaceandwantsittostay,itwillbeyours.
Withlove.
Sodryyoureyessexy,andstickapininMassachusetts-wegotWORKtodo!!!
AllmyLove,
J
________
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ShamanGuyrememberedthatIthoughtahugewoodentablewouldbetheperfect
additiontoAirManandmybackpatio.Allthebettertohostdinnerpartieswith.At
thispoint,ShamanGuyhasnoideathatAirManandIareontherocks.
________
Sowhendoyousayadieu?IthinkIwillhavetopassontheping-pongtable.AirMan
andIarechangingthestructureofourrelationshipsowemaynothaveaplaceforit...
Anyway,Iloveyoualotandlookforwardtoseeingyouthisweekend[atDreaming].
M
________
Heyyou-
Ithinkwe'releavingthefirstweekofMarch.Kai'sdonewithschoolFridaythe28th
andstartsschoolbackinMassonMarch17th.HisMomwantssometimewithhim
beforethenso............
IsawAirMantodayatRita'sandmentionedthepongtable-heseemedpsychedto
takeit.Doesheknowaboutthechangingstructure?AreyouguysOK?
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Onalighternote,abouttheonlythingthatwouldkeepmeontheWestcoastwouldbe
ashotatyouhoney...
OOOOPPPSSS!!!
I'msorry,Icouldn'tresistlettingmyfirst-attention-bad-selfblurtthatout....
Let'splayoverthenexttwoweeksifwecanworkitin.
ILOVEyou!
J
________
Shhh!Iamgoingtosneakoutofthehouseundercoverofdarknessandseehowmany
dayspassbeforehesendsoutaposse...
Oy!Yes,heknowsaboutthechange.Ithinkhehasn'tquiteprocessedthephysical
realityofit.SoI'llletyoutwoworkoutthat!
Youaresuchatease...Love'emandleave'emGilroy.
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SeeyoumananaatDreaming.
M
________
Sweetheart-
Yourcrypticmessagesarekillin'me!HereI'vebeenpostedatmyPCallnight&
morningwaitingforsomesolid(see:juicy)infoandallIgetis"OY?!!!"
OkIknow"OY"isprettymuchlike"whatever",butIthinkifthere'sanyhopetotaking
thisloveaffairofoursoutofcyber(dreaming)space,clearcommunicationisamust.
Thinkofthelovelyopportunityhere.Abrandnewcreation...
OrmaybeIshouldlettheinkdrybeforeIcomeontoostrong...
ThereIgoagain-rushingheadlongwithoutlookingwhereI'mgoing!
Oh,andonelastthing-it's"love'emandCONTINUEtolove'emGilroy",thankyou
verymuch!
(leave'em,nowwherewouldshegetthatcrazyidea...?!!!)
Hopeyou'resmilingthatbeautifulangelicsmileofyourskid-
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G-love
________
Whoabronco!Thoughtyouhadagirlfriendtokeepyoufrompillagingthe
countryside?
PSI'menjoyingthecyberrelationshiptoomuchtohavetomoveintotheclear
communicationstage!
M
________
Myfriend-
Dothewords"eligiblebachelor"meananythingtoyou?Girlfriend?Iwish.
Waytoomanyassumptionsmadeonthatfront.Morelike:niceyoungEwokboy
seekingtoplaywithnostory.Long-termblissoptional.
Pillaging?!!!Me?!!!
Sailingacrosstheoceanofcyberspaceinsearchof...
LoveamongsttheRunes,
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Viking
________
AlrightLeif,
ThetruthisthatI'mnotreadytofigureanyofthisoutrightnow.Checkbackinafew
months?Untilthenwebothhavesomemovingtodo.
Aftertheuniversitygetsofftheground[oneoftheprojectsthatLini,PinkandIhadin
theworks],ournextbusinessisaEwokdatingserviceandyourpersonaladwillbethe
standard!
Thanksforkeepingmelaughing.
Loveu,
Meghan
________
Aw,alright,I'llrelax.Youjustdoyourprocessingatyourownpace.Howeverifyou
wouldbesokindastoplacemynameatthetopofthewaitinglist(hopeI'mnottoo
lateinasking),Iwouldbegrateful.Evennumber2onthelistisok,justlemmeknow
thesuitoraheadofme–maybehecouldbe"gentlypersuaded"tohitthebackofthe
line...
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OnaseriousnoteIwouldlovetogetanyinfo/materialsforstartingaWisdomGroup
backintheBostonarea.AndsomeextracopiesofMio’snewsletter.MaybeIcan
provideprooftomyfamilythatIactuallywrotesomething(thatwaspublished)whilst
loungingaboutonthebeachthepast8months.
Asalways,inLOVE,
J
________
DearMr.MassachusettsMan,
FeelfreetotakeasmanynewslettersasyouwantthatareatTransformUforparental
unitsatisfaction.I'mimpressedyouaresharing-Ikeepmyunitsasfarfrommy
articlesaspossiblesothattheydon'traceoutherewiththeinterventionsquad.
I'llkeepyoupostedonthedancecard.
Love,M
PSIjustcan'tresist,areyouwillingtore-locatetoSouthernCalifornia?
Heehee
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________
Iamplayingwithfire!
It’snowmid-FebruaryandanotherDreamingweekend.Iavoidcomingtotheevent
becauseIamseriouslyconfusedaboutShamanGuy.Isheforreal?Andwhatabout
AirMan?There’sbeenlotsofcryingandconfusion.HowcanIlovesomeonebutnot
wanttobeinarelationshipwithhim?Whyishesuchagreatguybutsuchamismatchforme(andviceversa?)AndhowcanInotfullybeoutofarelationshipwith
AirManandyetShamanGuyhasmyattention?Ican’tevenreallyadmittomyself
thatIfindShamanGuyintriguing.Ourbanterfeelsright.It’sallsoconfusingthatI
sleepalldaySaturday.FinallyonSundaymorning,IdrivedownatTransformUto
trytocatchthelasthourofDreaming.
It’saperfectSouthernCaliforniakindofday.Theskyiscrisp,blueandcloudless.
There’saslightbreezethatswayspalmtreesandwhispersoftheocean.The
Dreamershavejustfinishedanotherintenseweekendfullofloveandlight.Shaman
GuyhopsonhisskateboardandtoolsaroundtheparkinglotoftheUniversityof
Transformation,whileI’munloadingmycartobringinfreshsuppliesfortheweek.
ShamanGuyhopsoffhisboardnearmycarandasks,“Heybeautiful,howareyou?
Doingok?”Ilookintohisgleamingblueeyesandstammer,“Yeah,I’mok.”Realizing
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thatIcannothandletalkingtohimaboutourrecentflirtatiousemails,Iblurtoutin
mybest,coldfifth-grade-brush-off-theboy-who-you-secretly-like-but-won’t-admititvoice,“ByeShamanGuy.”Ouch.
Ithenprettymuchrunaway.
Ifeelmyheartpoundingandpanicky.
“What’sthisallabout?”Iponderandrealize…OhGod,I’mactinglikea5thgrader.
Ironically,it’stheendofValentine’sDayweekendandI’vejustblownoffandthen
runawayfromtheloveofmylife.
Laterthatnight,theflurryofemailscontinue.
________
HeyJ,
HopeyoufoundmybehaviortodayasamusingasIdid.
Thanksfortheopportunitytoseewheremytendencytoboltcamefrom(5thgrade
on...teasethem,thenrunandhide)andfortheopportunitytobegentlewithmyself
(notquitereadytojumpintotheboy-likes-girl-likes-boything).
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Ialsorememberedaveryimportantlawoftheuniverse...whenyouflirt,menreact...so
noneedtobesurprisedbyaction-reaction.
Anyway,it'sbeenalongtimesinceI'vebeenavailable(andthefirsttimeI'mavailable
andaware)sothanksforthecrashcourse.
Love,
Meghan
________
Hi-
IwantedtowritetoyouthisafternoonandwassurprisedtoseeyouremailwhenIjust
gotbackhome.I’veplantedKaiinfrontofthePrincessBridewithapizzafordinner.
Dad’shomecooking.
Iwaswonderingwhatyouwerefeelingwhenyoubolted.Iguessitwasamusing.I
didn’treallymakeanybigdealaboutit–Ijustcouldfeelyouremotionalstateand
respectedwhereveryouwerewithit.Idowanttoclarifyonethingthough.WhenI
waslookingintoyoureyesitwaswithoutanyhookorneed–itwasjusttheloveIwas
feelingafterareallypowerfulDreamingweekend.Iwas/amreallyawareofyournew
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situationandouremailsoflastweeknotwithstanding(myattemptstomakeyou
smile),IwanttogiveyouasmuchloveandsupportasIcanwithoutprojecting
anythingontoyou.Idon’tneedanythingfromyou,nordoyoufromme.Weboth
knowthat.DoIhaveanattraction?Yes.DoIneedtoactonit?No.Youhavemany
emotionssurroundingthischangeinyour“structure”andIwanttoremaina
supportivefriendandrespectyourspace.Youwillplayagainwhenit’stime…
RightnowIamfeelingsadness.Thestorytellerishuntingastoryline–whysad?The
pasttwomonthsIwassohappy.IamwonderingwhereIamgoingandwhy.Iamso
inlovewithDreamingandmyfellowDreamersthatIquestionhowlongIcouldgo
withoutit.IwonderifIamasstrongasIthinkIam.IwonderifIcanreturntoanold
Dreamwithanewawareness.
Iwalkedonthebeachtodaycrying.Notsomuchforme,butforallthedramaand
hurtplayedoutononeanother.Forsomanypeoplenotlivingtheirheartsdesire.I
amstillcrying.
Thanksforsayingwhatyoudid.Iloveyou.
J
________
J–
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Thanksfortheunderstanding.WhenIlookedintoyoureyes,Isawbothofusas
dreams,sobig,thedivine;Isawusasanimals,ourphysicality,walkingaroundon
Earth,havinganattraction;andIsawourminds,tryingtointerpret,interact,make
senseofitall.Iwasfeelingallthisswirlingaroundinside,feelinglife-thensomepart
ofmesaid"toomuchfeeling"andsoIleft.WhenIaskedmyselfwhatwasthatall
about,IsawallthetimesI'velookedintoaguy'seyesandfeltamillionemotionsand
thenfoundawaytohide.UsuallyitwasratherconvenientthatIwasalreadyina
relationship.Yesterday,therewasnowheretohidesoIoptedforflight.NowthatI
writethis,Irealizeitdoesn'treallyevenhavetodowithguys.HowmanytimeshaveI
feltlifemovingthroughmeandsaid"ohno,toomuch"?Kindagivesnewmeaningto
Miosayingthatmosthumansaren'tafraidtodie,they'reafraidtoreallylive.
Icouldn'ttellbywhatyouwroteifyouareplanningonnotcomingtoDreamingafter
youmove?
Areyoureallyfeelingsadforhumanityorforyourpartinit?Iknowwhatyoumean
aboutseeingwhatwedotooneanotherandyetyouhavetowatchthattrickylittle
guyinyourhead.Helikestomanufactureemotionslikesadness,evenifittakesgetting
youworkeduponbehalfofthehumanrace.That'snottosaydon'tfeelsad(Ihada
fewtearsafterreadingwhatyouwrote)butjustwatchthestory.
Wellkiddo,thanksagain.Iloveyoutoo,
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M
________
M-
Whendowejustlivewithoutanyinterpretationatall?DoesbeingaEwokmeanwe
can’t“justfallinlove”?Iseveryaction,everythought,everygesture,everytouch
categorized,analyzed,processedandfiledunder“stories”?WhencanwejustLove,
justsmile,justspeak,andhavethatbeok?As“Artists”(Ewoks)couldn’teating
pancakesjustbeeatingpancakes?Awalkwithyourbelovedinasnowstormjustthat?
Alookintoanotherhumanbeingseyesjustbeareflection?Whendowejustembrace
Lifefullyalive,notafraidtolive,nolongerafraidtodie?What’sthedeal?
Lastnightmydreamswerefilledwithloveandlaughter.Iwasteachingthethirdyear
andfirstyearDreamerscombined.Itwasfunny.Itwasfun.Itwaseasy.IamtheOne.
YouaretheOne.MioistheOne.TitaistheOne.WeallaretheOne’s.Whenwelayon
ourdeathbedswhowilltelluswhatweare?Whowillleavewithus?Whatdecisions
willwewishdifferently?Willwegoscratchingandclawing?Willwebesmiling?
HowcouldIeverstoptheprocessofKnowing?Iamcommittedtothat.Iam
committedtome.IamcommittedtoLove.AndIamcommittedtoFaith–faiththat
GodwillneverallowmetostrayfromMe.Therearenowrongpathsorrightpaths.
TheMomentisthepath…
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Yes,Icriedforbothhumanityandmyself.WhenIwalkedonthebeachafterDreaming
thesadnesswasfillingeveryspaceinsideme.AsIapproachedafamily100feetawayI
sensedsomethingwashappening.AsIgotcloserthefatherwasintenselylecturinga
boyofmaybe13whosearmwasinacast.Themotherwaslookingouttowardsthe
waterheryoungdaughterholdingherhand.Anotherboywholookedabout11was
walkingawaycrying.BeingwideopenfromDreamingIallowedallofthatinsideme.
Itwasliketurningonthespigottomysadness.Isawthemalljustlivingoutadrama–
andIsplitinto2different“me’s”,onegoingtothecryingboy,theothertothefather
andson.IjuststoodbythemlovingtheirheartsandimaginingLove&Light
surroundingthem.ThenIwasdividedintohundredsofmyself–goingaroundthis
planetdoingthesamethingwithotherpeopleandsituations(youincluded).Thatwas
halfofwhyIcried.Theotherwasformestuckinmypresentcreation–havingto
alwaysliveintheunknown,havingtoliveandworkandbeindebtandbe
disappointedandwantingsomeonetoholdmeandlovemeandmyson.Story?Idon’t
know,maybejustFEELING…
Dreaming?Idon’tseeeverquittingthat.WillIbeabletoaffordtocomehere?Idon’t
knowyet.Itmaytakeafewmonths.TheUnknownawaitsmeonceagain.
Thankyouforlistening.Itfeelsgoodtowritethis.IlikesharingmyHeartwithyou.
Iloveyou.
J
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SayYes
TuesdayrollsaroundandIheadtomymuchneededyogaclasswithMulaBonda
Yogi.NothinglikeanhourandahalfofAshtangawithahard-coreex-Marineturned
yogiinacrampedstudio,heatblasting,togetmewrungoutandsettleddown.I’ve
beenjitterysinceSundayandstillunclearabouthowtomakethefinalbreakfrom
AirManorfigurewhatthehellisgoingonwithmeandShamanGuy.
Aftertheclass,IwalkafewblocksovertoalocalrestaurantinmyblackNagual
sweatshirt,blackyogapants,andclogstomeetupwithagroupofEwokcelebrating
Violet’s“NewDream,”she’smovingandfinallygainedthecouragetodowhather
hearthasbeenyearningforwithanewjobinanewcity.Tenorsoofushave
gatheredtocongratulateher.
ShamanGuyishereandit’ssomewhatofagoodbyepartyforhimtoo.Having
movedmoreEwoksthanhecancountinhistruckoverthelastfewmonths,many
havebeenrepayinghimbyhelpinghimpackhisboxes.He’sstayingforonelastTita
workshopthiscomingweekend,Kaiwillfinishschoolandgoonbreakthefollowing
week,andthenthemovingvansarecomingtopickuphisandKai’sbelongingsto
takethembacktoMarblehead.
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Thegatheringisboisterous.I’mthelastonetoarriveandthelastavailableseatis
directlyacrossfromShamanGuy.Allmyzonedout,Zen-likeblissevaporatesasI
feelanelectricjoltmovethroughmewhenoureyesmeet.It’stooloudtohavemuch
ofaconversationacrossthetable,soIgetdrawnintoadistractedconversationwith
theEwoksoneithersideofme.AndyetIamacutelyawareofShamanGuy’s
presence.
ShamanGuygetsuptoleave,there’smorepackingtodo,andcirclesthetable
huggingeveryoneandsayinghisgoodbyes.Istandtohughimandfeelmyheart
racinglikealittlebird’s.IamshockedthatIfeelsojangledfromamereembrace.
NowShamanGuyknowsforsure.I’mhooked.Ifhehadanydoubts,mypounding
heartjustgaveitaway.Ashewalksoutthedoor,hethinks,“Heythisgirlreallydoes
likeme.She’snotjustkiddingaround.”
Allatwitter,Iheadhome.I’mrestlessandmysleepisdisturbed.Thenextnightisno
better.Around4am,Iwakeupafteranotherdiscombobulateddream,giveupon
gettingshuteye,andgointomymeditationroom.Wehaveamirrorboxsetupin
there.Measuring4’x4’x4’,it’sjustbigenoughforone,maybetwopeopletosit
inside.Alltheinteriorwallsarecoveredinmirrorssoyouarereflectedadinfinitum.
It’salittletrippyandbeenknowntoinducedeepmeditativestatesandlarge
openingsinyourmind,ifnotyourconsciousness.I’vebeenmeaningtolistento
VisionWalkaCDbyaEwokteacherandfigurenowisasgoodatimeasany.
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TheCDpromisesmethatI’llbeabletoaccessadeepinnerwisdomandknowing.
ThatforanyquestionIhave,Ialsohavetheanswerwithin.Icaneithergoona
visionwalkinnature,ordoitinameditativestate.Sinceit’sinthemiddleofthe
night,Ioptforthemoresensiblerouteofstayinginmyjammiesandclosingmyeyes
insteadofbravingourlargeovergrown,unrulybackyard.
IsettleinandtheCDencouragesmetoslowmybreathing.SoonIaminanon-drug
inducedalteredstate.I’mtoldtopictureaplaceinnatureandimmediatelyIhavean
imageofmyselfswimmingunderthesea.Awaveoffeelingenvelopesmeasthe
samepeaceandjoythatIfeltwhenscubadivinginAustraliafillsmybody.Onlythis
timeI’mnotdeckedoutinscubagear,Iamamermaidexploringmyunderwater
kingdom.
TheCDcontinues.Letaquestionarisefromyourheart,onethat’simportanttoyou
rightnow,onethatyouhaven’tbeenabletofigureout.Smallbubblesfloatupfrom
thedepthsoftheoceanfloorandonecontainsmyquestion.
What’snext?WhatamImeanttodowithmyliferightnow?
It’snotthequestionIhadbeenexpecting.Thereareplentyofmorepracticalones
thatIwouldhavepreferredtohaveanswered.ButtheCDgentlyintonestogowith
theflow,embracewhatyouseeorfeel,soIagreethatthisisthemostpressing
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questioninmylife.AndsecretlyI’mhopingtogetaconcreteansweraboutwhatto
doregardingAirMan,ShamanGuy,myjob,mylivingsituation.Youknow,thethings
thatmatter.Butbynow,I’vebeenaroundthespiritualblockenoughtimestoknow
thatthisisn’tusuallyhowitworks.
Nextup,theCDdirectsmetoexploretheenvironmentI’min.Payattentiontoany
objectsthatpopoutatyou.Lookformeaninginwhatyouseeandfeel.Don’ttry
withyourmind,butletyourheartguideyou.
Ifeelpulledtodivedeeper.Withaflickofmymermaidtail,I’mswimdownpastthe
coralandfishtothebottomofthesea.Iseeaprettyconchshellandpickitup.AsI
do,Ihearavoicethatsays,“Sayyestolife.Startsayingyes.”
Thisanswerfeelsdeeplyrightandyetmymindisprotesting.“Yeah,butwhatdoI
sayyesto?WhatifIsayyestothewrongchoice?”Igentlyre-focusmyattentionon
beingunderwater,myhairflowsaroundme,theseashellinmyhandglintsfroma
rayoflightthat’smadeitswaytotheoceanfloor.Ifocusonthefeeling.Yes.Icando
this.Iwillknow.
Igentlymakemywaybacktothesurfaceoftheoceanandthesurfaceofmy
consciousness.Thesunisrising;it’sanewday.I’mreadyforwhat’snext.
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GettingFreaky
Areyoureadytostepintotheworldofthereallyfreaky-deaky?Becauseeverything
that’sgonedownsofarhasjustbeenawarm-up.AsShamanGuylikestoteaseme,
“Holdontoyourpanties,we’reinforawildride.”
I’mreadytosayyestolifebuthavenoideawhatI’vejustsignedmyselfupfor.
AirManstumblesdownstairsintothekitchenwithaprofuselybleedingnose.We
haven’tfiguredoutyetwhoisstayinginthehouse,whoisleaving,andwherethe
otherpersonisgoing.Sofornow,wearestillsharingacasaandworkingitoutas
enlightenedbeings.Sincetherehaveneverbeenbigfightsordramabetweenus,just
lotsoflittlenaggingdoubts,it’snothardtocontinuetoco-existmoreorless
peacefully.
“Whathappenedtoyou?”Iaskabitflusteredatthecontrastfrommypeaceful
mediationandthebloodyredflowpouringfromhisface.Thismuchbloodseems
morelikesomeonepunchedhimthanagoodmorningtoyounosebleed.Ispring
intoactionasBazerusedtogetnosebleedsfrequently,althoughthisisararityfor
AirMan.AirManshrugshisshouldersandsmiles,hisusualgo-with-the-flowacceptingself,“Idunno.Justwokeupthisway.”
Aftergettinghimcleanedup,IheadtoturnontheTV.I’mnotmuchofaTVperson,
butsomehowIgothookedonTheBachlorette.HavingbeenyearningformyDream
Man,I’menthralledatTristafindingherRyanandI’mhopingtocatchthefirst
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interviewsincethegrandfinale.Sigh.Gettingmyfixofgushy,romantic,over-thetoptruelovestory,Idecidetoheadtomycomputer.Whattheheck.I’minspiredto
dashoffanemailtoShamanGuy.
________
J-
Authoritiesarelookingintounrefutedevidencethatmiraclesdoexistbasedona
never-before-witnessedoccurrenceearlythismorninginEscondido,CA.Meghan
McChesney,whorarelyrisesbefore10:00am,wasbathed,dressedandfedby7:00am
thismorning.SourcesclosetoMcChesneysaythatshehadbeenactingstrangelyall
week.JGilroyreportedthathehadachanceencounterwithMcChesneyoverthe
weekend.Gilroysays,"IaskedMeghanifshewasokandallthesuddenshejustfreaked
outandranaway.I'veneverseenheractlikethisbefore."Whenaskedaboutthecause
ofthismiracle,McChesneysaid,"Iwokeabout4:00amafterhavingadreamabout
TristaonTheBachorlette.Itriedtofallbacktosleep,butcouldn'tsoIwentintomy
mirrorroomandmeditated.ThenextthingIknew,thesunwasrisingandmyinner
guidancetoldmetogetreadyfortheday."Secularscientistsareclaimingthatthisis
notamiracle,butratherMcChesney'sdesiretobeawakeforGoodMorningAmerica's
airingofTheBachorlette'sfirstinterviewsincetheshowhasended.Still,Ewok
Eldersarestressingtheunusualnessofthisoccurrence.TheVaticanhasindicatedthat
theywillinvestigateimmediately.
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P.S.I'mreadytohangoutifyouwantto...I'mopentodayuntil4ishandallday
tomorrow.
:),M
________
Youmakemelaugh.Iwouldclassifythatasoneofthoserareoccurrences–likeaYeti
orSasquatchsighting,(notthatyoulooklikeeitherofthosefirstthinginthe
morning).IguessIalmostneeddocumentation–video,stillphotographs,etc.before
I’mabeliever.
IwasDreamingonmywaybackfromthegymofcrawlingintoyourbedthismorning
andkissingyourfaceallover(youknow,justoneEwoktoanother)anditwasall
stubblyandrough.ItmusthavebeenAirManorGorda!Istillneedtotweakafew
dialstogetthisastralprojectionthingjustright…
I’mhappytohearyouareready.Iwouldliketospendbothdayswithyou.YetIneed
tobeatTita’saround11-11:30todaytosetuphermirrorbox.Andtomorrow
afternoonIhavetohelpmybrotherforacoupleofhours.ButcometothinkofitIcan
reschedulethatone.Iprefertohangwithyou.Soletmeknow.I’mhomeforacouple
morehours.
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Nowasforyourearlyawakeningthismorning.Myguessisby8pmtonightyou’llbein
jammiesandsnoozingpeacefully…
L,
J
________
Don'tbesosureaboutmymorningappearance...especiallywhenawokenbefore
10am!Iwasdefinitelynotstubblythismorning,norinthebed.AirManwokeupwith
anosebleed,soifyou'regoingtoprojectyourastralbody,kissgently!
Younamethetimeandplace.
Asforbedtime,IhavethreeengagementstonightsoIwillhavetoperformanother
miraculousfeatandbeawakeformorethan12hoursinoneday.
M
________
Timeandplace?EternityinmyalternateUniverse.Seedescriptionbelow.
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“Asforme,Ilovemyalternateuniverse.Thereistheperfectunionbetweenmale&
female.Abeautifulbalanceofunconditionalloveandplayfulness.Nostories,no
judgments,nofear.Respectforoneanotherasweare.Perfectinourexpressionoflife,
ourphysicality's,ouremotions,ourspirits.Perfect.Nodramawhatsoever.No
projection.Nounclearcommunication.Justcompletetendernessanddevotion.There
isnoheartbreakherebecausetheLovecannotbetakenorgivenaway.Itiseternal.
TwosoulsimmersedinSilence,intheVoid.PerfectMirrorsforoneanother...”
Thisismyalternateuniverse,andmyloveaffairwithmybeloved.Isn'tissoexquisite?”
J
________
Okdreamerboy,
That'squiteexquisite,butifyouwanttoseemeinpersontodayalittlemorespecific
earth-kindlocationwouldbehelpful...
M
________
Burstmybubblewhydon’tchya?Heyisthissecondattentionemailing?Wegottwo
goingatonce?Aren’tyousupposedtobe“working”?
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IwouldlovetogettogetherthisafternoonbutI’mreluctanttocommitsinceTitahasa
list(I’msure)ofotherhandymantasksafterhermirrorroomgetsset.AndIneedtobe
homeby3.Maybeweshouldsaytomorrow?Breakfast?CouldIhopetogetyouup
againearly?
Ok–myplace9amtomorrow.Planonspendingthedaytogether.
J
________
Iamworking,butsomeguyisstalkingmeandfillingupmyinboxwithemail.(Not
thatI'mprotestingtooloudly.)Tomorrow'sgood,but9amisprobablynot.IfIhappen
tostillbeonthe4amschedule,then9itis.Otherwisehowabout10-10:30?Love,M
________
Somaybejustmaybethereishopeoftrueloveafterall!
Rosesarered,violetsareblue,"TheBachelorette"ishistory,andCharlieis,too.
Provingastuffedwhaleandtreaclyprosearethekeytoatleastonegirl'sheart,
television'smosteligiblebachelorette,TristaRehn,fellforRyan,thesensitive
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firefighterwhotickledherfancywithpoems.RyanSutter,27,ofVail,Colo.,
immediatelydroppedtohiskneestoaskthewomanhe'dknownforsixweekstomarry
him.Shesaidyes.
Hummm.Carpenter-poet-sensitivesingledad...Iwonderwhatbachelorette
wouldresistsuchanopportunity?
J
________
ShouldIcallthe1-800numberandnominateyoutobethenextBachelor??
Meghan
________
Nopethatwon'tbenecessary.JustsayyesthistimewhenIaskyoutomarryme...
J
________
DidIsaynothefirsttime?
M
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________
Atthispoint,IhonestlyhavenorecollectionofShamanGuyaskingmeinSedona.
________
Duh!Yousaidafterafewmore"heartbreaks"you'dconsiderit.Ouch!
J
________
Norecollectiononthisone!
Meghan
________
Justaswell.Iwon'tdredgeupthepast.ButjustFYI-Iamdonewithheartbreaks.
Youweremylast...
J
________
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Idoprotest!Ihadnosuchpartinthisheartbreakthing.Ah,thebeautyofalternate
realities...
Meghan
________
DarlingIoweyouoneforthat.Ofcourseyouplayednopartinit-that'swhyitwasso
perfect!ItwasallmineandIthankyouforthatmirror...
J
________
Gladtobeofservice.ItcouldofbeenuglyifIhadplayedapartinit...
:)Mycharmingself
Meghan
________
YouareSOperfect.That'soneofthethingsIloveaboutyou.
NowI'mofftotryandsatisfyanotherNagualwoman.Ahhhh.It'stoughbeingme.
Somebody'sgottadoit.Byefornow-
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Question:howdoaNagualwomanandaNagualmanfallinLove?
Answer:
J
________
Answer:Throughateenytinyhole??
Havefunservicingallyournagualwomen.
PSAsmuchasIwouldlovetobreakfastwithyourhandsomeson,I'llprobablyarrivea
littlelater.
Meghan
________
Wheneveryoucanmakeitisfine.Doyourememberhowtogethere?
Howdidyouknowthecorrectanswer?Youtrulyamazeme!
J
________
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Ohyeah,directionswouldbegood.Justneedyourstreetnameandhousenumber.
Theydon'tcallmethenagualwomanfornothing...I'dliketoclaimtheanswercame
fromsilentknowledge,butthetruthisprobablyclosertooursickmindsthinking
alike...
Seeyoumanana.
M
________
Seeyathen.Manana.
J
________
DidShamanGuyreallyprojecthimselfintoourbedroom?Ihavenoidea.ButAirMan
didwakeupwithanosebleed.
And…
Whenthisisallsaidanddone,AirManrevealstomethatwhenwefirstgottogether
hehadanintensedreamonenightthatanothermancameintoourbedroomwhere
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AirManandIweresleeping,kickedAirManoutofbed,andourrelationshipwas
over.Andthat’saprettyaccuratedescriptionofwhathappened.
YES!
Thenextday…
ShamanGuy:Willyoumarryme?
ShamanGirl:Yes.
TheGood-byeDate
IarriveatShamanGuy’shousepromptlyat9amtomorrow.DespitethefactthatI’ve
hardlysleptindaysbecauseI’msoampedonenergy(andIlovemysleep),I’mup
andrearingtogoanddrivingthroughthecanyonfromEscondidotoEncinitaswith
theearlymorningcommuters.Iamexcitedandnervousandnotsureifthisisadate
oragood-bye.ThemovingvansarecomingtohaulShamanGuy’sworldly
possessions3,000milesacrossthecountryinfourdays.Toquellmynerves,I
decideit’snotadate.Whohasadateat9am?Especiallywhentheguyisaboutto
move3,000milesaway?Thisisjustachancetosaygoodbye.
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IringShamanGuy’sdoorbellandwaitaridiculouslylongtime.DidIgetthetime
wrong?Inmyexcitementoverwhateverthehellwashappeningbetweenus,I
completelyforgotthatIsaidImightnotappearuntil10-10:30andShamanGuyis
bettingonmytendencytomoveslowlyinthemorning.Eventuallyheappearsatthe
door–drippingwetwithatowelwrappedaroundhiswaist.Hehasachiseledupper
bodyandabs.EventhoughI’veneverdatedtheblondehairblueeyedtype,he’s
lookingratherhunkyandquitedeliciouslynakedrightnow.It’sallIcandotostiflea
groan.
Withawide-grinandatwinkleinhiseye(perhapsheplannedhisentranceafter
all?),heushersmein.“Givemeaminutetogetmoredecent,“ShamanGuysays.“Up
earlyeh?”Imutelynodashedisappearsdownthehallwaytohisbedroom.I’mnot
surewhattodowithmyselfsinceKaiisinschoolsothere’snoonetoplayLegos
with.Isitdowninhisbreakfastnookandtakeinhisbulletinboardofphotos,
marvelingoverhowcuteKaiwasasayoungster–sameblondhair,blue-eyesashis
pop–andwonderingwhosomeoftheotherfaceswere,guessingfriendsandfamily
backEast.
ShamanGuyreappearsthistimeinclothes,grabshiskeys,andwhisksmeoutthe
frontdoor.Hehasaplan–toshowmeallofhisfavoritehang-outsinEncinitas,
whichwillalsogivehimachancetosaygoodbyetothematthesametime.Shaman
GuytellsmethathehopesIdon’thaveanyplansforthedaybecausehehasquitea
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bitofgroundthathewantstocover.I’mfree,Iassurehim.Maybethisisagood-bye
dateafterall.
Wepullupinfrontofthe101Diner,ShamanGuy’sfavoritebreakfastplace.IfIcould
havebreakfastanywhereintheworld,it’dbeinEncinitas.Rightonthebeach,with
the101Highway(moreofaquaint2-laneroadthatwandersformilesalongthe
cutecoastaltowns)passingthrough,borderedbyfunky,eclecticshopsandtodiefor
breakfastspots.Bigmenuswiththeworks–eggs,pancakes,breakfastburritos,
homefries,younameit.9.9timesoutof10sunnyweatherandbeautifulclear,blue
skies.Mmmm.
WesettleintoaboothandIrealizethatthisisthefirsttimethatI’veeverhungout
withShamanGuyalone.Upuntilnow,we’vealwaysbeenataworkshoporparty
surroundedbypeople.Ouremailshavebeentheonlyprivate“conversations”we’ve
had.Sowillthisbeanawkwardfirstdate?Orwillthejuicinessofouremails
translatetoreal-life?
I’mrelievedthatafterweplaceourorders,wediverightintotalkinglikewe’ve
knowneachotherforever.It’salternatelylightandfunnyandrevealing,deeply
heart-felt.Halfwayintoourdeliciousfood,theconversationshiftsanditfeelslike
theinterviewbegins.Notinaweird,first-dateway,butwithan“I’mdeeply
interested”vibe.
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ShamanGuy’saskingmeifI’deverliveontheEastCoastagain.Noway.Ilove
California.Allmyfriends,spiritualcommunity,andjobarehere.Andhowcouldyou
beattheweather?I’mshockedanytimeWappyorBazermentionsnow.Intheland
ofendlesssun,I’veforgottenthere’sanyotherweather,especiallythewinterykind.
DoIwantkids?No,Idon’tthinkso.IlovedteachinginLA,butIwouldn’twantto
takeonehomeatnight.Babiesaren’tmything.Ilikeolderkidswhoyoucanhavea
realconversationwith.
Nowit’smyturn.IaskhimmoreaboutKaiandhisrelationshipwithKai’smom.
WhathislifewaslikebackEastandwhathelovesaboutCali,moreaboutwhyhe’s
leavingnow.AndI’mintenselycuriousaboutwhohe’sdatedinourEwokcircle.Can
Iask?ShouldI?Sincehe’sgood-looking,funny,smart,andaguy’sguy,I’msurethat
he’shadnolackofoffers.AndyetI’veonlyheardfaintrumorsofhimhangingout
withoneortwowomensincehe’sarrived.It’sabitstrange.Doesn’tquiteaddup.
SomehowtheconversationturnstodatingandShamanGuysaysthathe’sbeen
celibateforthepastfewyears.
Huh?
Nonookydoesn’treallyjibewithmyimageofhim.ShamanGuyafterallradiates
masculinityandthere’sanundercurrentofsexyallaroundhim.Buthey,inthe
spiritualcommunityplentyofpeopleexperimentwithallsortsofzanywaystoget
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toknowthemselvesbetterorhealtheirpastorincreasetheirenergy.Maybethisis
oneofthem.Idon’tknow.Itsomewhatfitswiththestoriesofwhohewaslinkedto
intheEwokgossipmill–alesbianandavirgin(twodifferentpeople,notavirgin
lesbian!).Maybetheirrelationshipsweren’tsexual?
Allofthisgoesthroughmyheadinasplitsecond,practicallybelowthelayerof
consciousness.OurconversationisflowingalongandIdon’tthinkmuchmoreofit
orhowitcouldpotentiallyaffectourrelationship–ifweeveneverenduphaving
one.
Thequestion’sbacktomeandit’sonmuchsafer,sanerground.WhatdoIliketodo
whenI’mnotDreaming?Anysports?Ilaugh.AlthoughI’vealwaysbeenproficientin
anysportI’vecasuallytried,Idon’tconsidermyselfsporty.Iliketodoyoga.Ilike
takingwalksonthebeach(butnotgoinginthewater).Otherthanthat,mylifeis
filledwithrunningMio’sfoundationandDreaming.Mylifeisreallydedicatedtomy
spiritualpath.That’swhatI“do”andmy“hobby”allrolledintoone.
Ihavetheoddsensationofbeingintwoplacesatonce.Ononelevel,Iamsittingina
boothhavingagettoknowyoubetterchat.Wearedoingourusualbanter.AndyetI
havethedistinctsensationthatthisconversationishappeningonamuchdeeper
level.ItisalittlefunnyforhimtobeinquiringaboutmemovingtotheEastCoast
andwhetherIwanttohavechildrenornot.It’sasifShamanGuyisaskingtoseeif
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wearecompatibleforeachotherinalong-termway.I’mbeinginterviewedformy
futurelife.
Thequestionscontinue,weeatourfill,andheadovertotheSelf-Realization
Fellowship(SRF),affectionatelyknowntolocalsas“Swami’sGarden.”ShamanGuy
isstunnedthatIhaveneverbeenhere.Setbehindwroughtirongatesandstuccoed
walls,liesacomplexofbuildingsthathouseYogananda’sworldheadquarters.Asa
spiritualteacherfromIndiawhocametoAmericain1920,Paramahansa
Yogananda,anEastIndianSwami,isgenerallycreditedforbringingyogatothe
west.Amongstthebuildingsoftheretreatcenterthatcontinuestosharehis
teachingsisthemostincrediblegardenIhaveeverseen.
IstepintowhatappearstobetheGardenofEden,amazedatthisgem.Situatedon
topofcliffsthatoverlookthePacificandafamoussurfer’sbreakcalled–whatelse?
Swami’s,thegardenisnotonlymeticulouslytendedandlush,butisfilledwitha
deep,pervasivehushthatfillsyoutoyourbones.Myheadswivelsfromlefttoright,
tryingtotakeitallin.
Wewalkupthestairsmarvelingattheenormouscolorfulflowers.Idon’tknow
manyoftheirnames,buttheirnamesseemtobesoinsignificantinthelightoftheir
beauty.Iamamazedattheenormousbirds’ofparadise,struttingtheirorange
plumage.ThereisanexquisitecontrastbetweentheclassicWestCoastdesert
vegetation,thepalmtrees,spikyaloe,andsagebushes,withtheprettyflowersI’d
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imagineinamountainmeadoworEnglishgarden,thebuttercupsandbluebellsand
lavender.Westopbythekoipondandwatchthelargestkoiintheworldswim
merrilyalong.Iamtickledbythetinywaterfallsthatfeedthepond.Wenoticethe
devoteesintheirrobesbentovertheplants,gardeninginmindfulmeditation.It’s
obviousthattheintentfromthegardenershascausedthisgardentonotjustgrow
butthrivebeyondwhatisreasonableornormal.Theplaceismagicalandspecial
andincapableofbeingdonejusticeinwords.Betweentheotherworldly,calmhaven
sensationandthephysicalbeautyofthesurroundings,IfeellikeI’vejuststepped
intoheavenonearth.
ShamanGuytakesmetohisfavoritespotwithintheGardens.Hepointsoutthe
surfers,whoarebobbinginthewaveshundredsoffeetbelowus.It’sbreathtaking
tobesohighupovertheoceanandtobeabletoseeformilesupanddowntheSan
Diegocoastline.Hetellsmethathe’sseenpodsofdolphinsgobyfromuphere.It
feelslikeweareontopoftheworldandforthefirsttimeindays,Ifeelmyselfsettle
andrelax.
Wesitdownonastonebenchthatistuckedintothislittlealcove.Theenergyisso
stronganddelicious.It’spullingusintoDreaming.Sowithoutconsultingeachother,
wecloseoureyesandaretransportedintoourowninnerworlds.
Iamspinning,lostintimeandspace.IammyselfandyetI’malsomergedwithevery
particleintheentireuniverse.Inolongerknowwheremybodybeginsorends,
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whereittouchesthebenchorShamanGuy’slegpressednexttomine.Iexpandand
feelonewiththeuniverse,whilesimultaneouslycontractingandfeelingonewith
everyatominmybody.
SuddenlyIpopoutofthisexpansivespaceandamlookingdownasifI’mflyingover
thePyramidoftheSuninMarzipanMexico.Theentirecomplexunfoldsbeforeme.I
seeShamanGuyandmeontopofthepyramid,dressedinwhite,claspinghandsto
ourchestsandlookingintoeachother’seyes.IhaveonaMexicanpeasantdressand
Icanseethedetailsembroideredonit.Therearegorgeousflowerssurroundingus,
alongwithacircleofDreamers.Mioisstandingbyourside,officiatingthemarriage.
I’mwatchingourweddingfromthevantagepointofaHollywood-moviecameraina
helicopter,circlingoverhead.TheimageisasclearandstrongasifIwasphysically
therewatchingitgodown.
ThevisionshiftsandShamanGuyandIareeagles.Wearehurtlingstraightup
towardthesun,everybitofourbeingdriventowardthelight.Inthenextinstant,I
shiftdirections,turningtodivebacktowardtheground.Matchingmymoves
throughasilentcommunication,EagleShamanGuyisrightbehindme.Hisbeakand
talonslatchontomeandweareinafree-fallthroughspace.Itisdizzying,
disorienting,exhilarating.Ourbreathingissynchronized,ourheartsare
synchronized,heck,evenoursoulsaresynchronized.Ifeelasifmyenergyand
ShamanGuy’senergyarewrappingaroundeachotheruntilthereisno
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distinguishingbetween“me”and“him.”Wearemerging,tumblingthroughouter
spacewithpinpricksofstarlightsurroundingus.Weareone.
ThevisionisoverbutIamstillfloatinginthisdelightful,warm,yummyspace.Iam
filledwithpeaceandjoyandtherearenowordsorthoughtsinanypartofmybody.
DoIevenhaveabody?Idon’tknowanddon’tcareanditfeelsdivineandrightand
heavenly.
Then,likeaneedlescratchingacrossarecord,errrrrrrruuuuupppphhhh!,Ihearan
insistentvoicethatdoesnotsoundhappy.Itkeepsrepeatingwhateveritissaying,
butmymindisnotcomputingwords.Iopenmyeyesgroggilyandsquintinthe
directionofthedisturbance.I’mabitconfused,becauseIfindmyselfsitting,okay
thetechnicaltermwouldbestraddling,ShamanGuy’slap,facinghim.Whendidthat
happen?Notusedtobeinginthissituationinpublic,IdoasquickanassessmentasI
canforsomeonewho’sjustlostallgriponeverydayreality.ThankGod,Isayto
myself,Istillhaveclotheson.
Theguardthatisstandingoveruswantsourattention.Mybrowwinklestomake
outwhatshe’ssaying,“Thatformalpositionisnotallowedhere.”Mybraincan’t
quiteunderstandwhyshe’sreferringtomestraddlingShamanGuyasformal–I’d
sayit’sratherintimateandnotthekindofbehaviorIusuallygoforoutsidethe
bedroom–butIgetthegistofherupsetanddemand.It’stimetosaygoodbyeto
Swami’sGarden.
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TheOnlyPossibleAnswer
ShamanGuygrabsmyhandandwepracticallyrunfromtheGardens.Myfaceis
flushedred–acomboofsittinginthesunandtotalembarrassment.Wearegiddy
andstillhighontheenergyfromDreaming.Wefinallymakeitoutthegatesandfind
acool,refreshingbreezeonthestreet.
“Didshereallysay‘Thatformalpositionisnotallowedhere’?”ShamanGuyasksme.
“Ithinkso!Thatwassoweird!”Iexclaim.(Ittakesusafewyearsofretellingthe
storybeforeoneofusrealizesthatshesaid,“Thatformofexpressionisnotallowed
here.”)
“Reallyweird,”Imuttertomyself,thevisionofusgettingmarriedfloodingback
overme.“Yeah,”ShamanGuyagrees,“Ihadthestrangestthinghappenwhile
Dreaming.”“Metoo,”Iconcur.“Whathappenedwithyou?”Iask,notwantingto
revealwhatIjustsaw.Imean,really?Whohasvisions?Letalonevisionslikethat?
BackonthestreetsofEncinitaswithcarswhizzingby,thestrange,unlikelinessof
whatjusthappenedhitsmeinfullforce.
“Whydon’twedrivedowntoMoonlightBeachandwecantalkaboutit?”Shaman
Guysuggests.Ilovethissuggestionhopingthefewminutedrivewillgivemesome
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timetocomposemyselfandfigureoutwhatpartofwhatIjustexperiencedis
appropriatetoshare.
Wedriveonbackstreetsforafewblocksinsilence,bothofuslostinthinkingabout
whatjusthappened.ShamanGuypullshistruckintoaspotthatfacesthe
glimmeringocean,killstheengine,androllsdownthewindows.
“Yougofirst,”ShamanGuysays.“No,you!”Iinsist.“Ladiesfirst!”hegallantlyoffers.
Wegobackandforth,pokingeachotherlikemyoldfifthgraders.Igetquiet,staring
outthewindowforafewlongminutes,andsodoeshe.“Alright,“ShamanGuy
finallyconcedes,manningup.“I’llgofirst.”
WhatcomesoutofShamanGuy’smouthutterlyshocksme.Heisdescribingmy
visionofusgettingmarriedwithallthesamedetails,allthesamepeople,evenfrom
thesamepointofview–Hollywoodfly-overstyle.Hecapturestheemotionalquality
thatwaspresenttoo.Tearsspringtomyeyes.
Hisclear,blueeyeslookatmedeeplyandsincerely.Iamimpressedthathehadthe
ballstosharethatwithme.It’snoteverydaythatyougoonagoodbyedateandhave
avisionofgettingmarriedontopofapyramid.
Hefinishes,checkingformyreaction.IfeellikeIamlookingdirectlyintohissoul
whenItellhim,“Ihadtheexactsamevisiontoo.”
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Inthismoment,aninternalalignmentclicks,likeakeycatchinginalock.Noneof
thisfeelsstrangetomeanymore.IjustfeelsrightandnormalandhowI’mgoingto
livefortherestofmylife.Isharemyvisionwithmybeloved,eventhoughhehas
alreadydescribeditperfectly.Forwhatseemslikeeternity,wejustsitandstareinto
eachother’seyes.
“Willyoucomebacktomyhousewithme?”
ThereissomuchhanginginShamanGuy’squestion.It’saboutalotmorethanjust
headingbacktohishouse.Somehowitfeelslikewe’reembarkingonanewwayof
life.
Withouthesitation,Isay,“Yes.”Normally,I’mnotthiseasy,butinlightofthatpast
weekthere’snootherpossibleanswer.Weareheadingnotjusthome,butto
ShamanGuy’sbed.
OneTiny(orBig?)Problem
WepullupinfrontofShamanGuy’scutecasitaandliketwoplayfulpuppies,
scammerdownthehallintohisbedroom.ItakeinhisDreamingcorner–where’s
he’sspentmostofthepastsixmonthssitting,crying,meditating,transformingwhile
Kaiisatschool,hisdesk,theslidingglasswindowsouttothepatiowheretheping
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pongtablestilllives.Oh,thepingpongtable.Ioweyouagreatdebtforkickingoff
thisall.Andofcourse,thebed,whichweimmediatelyfallinto.
(Wappy,Bazer,ShamanBoy’spreschoolteachers,anyofmyoldteacherspre-school
orotherwise,ourneighbors,randomrelatives,ex’s,Kai,Wren,ShamanBoyor
anyoneelsewhoIwouldn’twanttotalksexywithpleasestopreadingandskipto
thenextchapternow.GO!Really.Andthankyou.)
Withinseconds,theclothesandthesheetsareinatangle.It’sashotandsteamyasa
well-doneHollywoodsexscene.Notthatwearehavingsex.No.Wearemakingout,
ifImayusesuchajuveniletermforwhatisgoingonhere.ShamanGuy’sbodyis
tauntandrock-hardandsoftsimultaneously.Heisliterallyhottotouch.Ourbodies
foldaroundeachotherasiftheyareone.Theyfitperfectly.Isighsuchadeep,
contentedsighofrelief.IfeellikeI’vecomehomeandbeenlaunchedtothemoonat
thesametime.Wekissandlickandtickleandexploreforwhatseemslikehours.
Atsomepointinourtom-foolery,weslipintothesamespacethatwewereinatthe
Gardens.IcannolongerfigureoutwhoIam,whatmynameis,wheremybody
beginsorends,whichwayisup,down,orsideways,whethertimeandspacestill
exists.Iamstretchedoutovergalaxies,myparticlesdispersedthroughouteternity.I
ammorealive,andmorenaked,andmorevulnerablethanIhaveeverbeeninmy
life.AndyetIfeelcompletelysafeandcaredforbyShamanGuy.
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Wefloatdowntowardsthebedandtowardsthemechanicsofmergingmorethan
ourenergies.OnlyHoustontoMajorTom,wehaveaproblem.Atinyproblem.Or
maybeabigproblem.Idon’tknow.Butthere’sbeennoliftoff.There’sonepartof
ShamanGuy’sbodythatisn’thardatall.Notevenabit.
ShamanGuyseemsabitdistressedandkindofflustered.I’mtryingtocomprehend
justwhat’shappeninginmyblissed-out,hardlycoherentstate.Oh.Ohhh!Igetit.
ShamanGuycan’tgetitup.
ShamanGuystartsapologizing.Thisreallyhasneverhappenedbefore.Never.
Really.Hedoesn’tknowwhattheproblemis.Maybethereareotherwaysto
remedythesituation?
TheonlyresponseIcancomeupwitharesounds.PrimarilyShhhh!!!Notalking
please.AndUmmmmmm.ThisisthegreatestsexwithouthavingsexI’veeverhad
(I’mstartingtosoundlikeapolitician).I’minheavenandwhateverwe’vebeen
doingfeelssogoodthatIdon’tcareifheseemstobehavingamalemalfunction.
Somewhere,intherecessesofmyconsciousness,Irecallhimsayingsomething…
whatwasit?Ohright,he’scelibate.Maybeit’sbeensolongthathe’sbeenwitha
womanthathisbodydoesn’tquiteknowwhattodo?Anyway,Idon’tcare.More
pleaseofwhateverwashappeningbeforeallthisnonsense.
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WecontinuetorollaroundandmergeandIamcompletelysatisfieddespiteShaman
Guy’slackofhardness.Wesettleintocuddlinganddriftinginthatblissfulplace
betweensleepandsemi-awake.Ihaveneverbeenmorecontent.
ShamanGuyrollsovertofaceme.Mybodynaturallyadjuststohis.Icanfeelhim
watchingthesmileonmyface,evenwithmyeyesclosed.Hisgazeisn’tgoingaway,
sofinallyIopenmyeyes.“Mmmm?”Iask,stillnotfullyfunctional.
ShamanGuytakesmehand,looksatmedeeply,andsays,“Willyoumarryme?”
Iamnowfullyawake.Withoutahesitationorthoughtforhowtrulyinsanethisall
is,Ireply,givinghim,onceagain,theonlypossibleanswer,“Yes.”
Ifeeldeeply,insanelyhappy.I’veneverbeenmoresureofanythinginmyentirelife.
Itfeelsnaturalandrightanddestined.Andyes,abitcrazy.Ok,insaneeven.
ButIhavebeendirectedtostartsayingyestolife.AndsinceIhave,lifefeels
amazing.“ThankGodforthatdirectivefromjustafewdaysago,”Ithink.AsIdrift
offtosleep,IseriouslydoubtIwouldhavehadthegumptiontosayyestothis
spontaneousmarriageproposal.Me,married?Hmmm…ButsomehowIhaveadeep
utterlyconfidenttrustthatthiswillallsortitselfoutandeverythingwillfallinto
place.EventheoneShamanGuybodypartthatdoesn’tseemtobecooperating.
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WillYouBeBack?
“Meg…Meg…”
Fromsomefarawaydistantgalaxy,IfeelmyselfbeingpulledbacktoEarth.Ithink
someoneiscallingmynamebutit’ssolusciousherethatIdon’twanttogo
anywhere,ever.
“Meg!”
Thevoiceisalittlemoreinsistentandaccompaniedbyagentleshake.Igroggily
openmyeyes,lookaround-andhavenoideawhereIam.Itappearstobedaylight
andIamwakingupinanunfamiliarbed,inastrangebedroom.Thishasn’t
happenedoftentomeinmylifesoit’sabitunsettling.
ShamanGuy’sfaceloomsintoviewwithawrinkledbrowlookofconcern.“Hey
sleepyhead.Youwerereallyout.”
Itallcomesfloodingbacktomeandasmuggrincrossesmyface.Istretchcat-like
andnowthatI’velocatedmyselfinShamanGuy’sbedIdon’twanttogoanywhere,
ever,fromthisplace.
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“Youneedtogetup.Kaiwillbehomefromschoolsoonandmaybethisisn’tthebest
waytogreethim?”ShamanGuylooksappreciativelyovermynakedbody.Nope,not
reallyhowIwanttogreetmyfuturestep-son.
Imanagetositup.Theroomfeelslikeit’sspinningslightly.“Sowhat’stheplan?”
ShamanGuyasks.
MybuzzlevelsoffslightlyasIrealizetherightcourseofactionistogohomeandtell
AirManthatourrelationshipisofficiallyover.Ugh.EventhoughIambeyondmy
wildestdreamshappyandconfidentinmychoiceofsayingyestoShamanGuy,it
alsofeelsawkwardtobesayinggood-byetoAirMan.Especiallynow.Sosoon.Ihad
absolutelynoconsciousintenttoendmyrelationshipwithAirManthiswayorto
jumpintoanotherrelationship,letalonemarriage.
“IguessIbettergohome,”IsaytoShamanGuy,tryingtoprocesshowtonavigate
thisunfamiliarterritory.
“Willyoubeback?”ShamanGuyaskssincerelyandperhapswithatingeofdoubt.
“Yes,”Ireplyonceagain.“Tonight.”
ShamanGuyraiseshiseyebrowandembracesmeinawarmhug.“Isurehopeso.I
needtogetovertoTita’stosetupthemirrorboxfortheworkshop.Titaaskedmeto
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stayfortheeveningbutnotsureifthatwillworkout.Mybrothercouldonlytake
Kaifortheweekend.MaybeI’lldraghimalongwithme.”
AirMan,ShamanGuyandIareallsupposedtobeatthemitotepartoftheworkshop
scheduledfortomorrowevening.Thatshouldbeinteresting.
“Ifyouwantmeto,IcantakeKaifortheeveningandyoucanstayforthebeginning
oftheworkshop.”Ioffer.I’mnotsurewhatpossessedmetoofferbabysitting
services(Isitbabysittingifthekid’s12?Isitbabysittingifthekidwillsomeday
soonbepartiallymyresponsibility?)Perhapstheideaofbeinginno-man’sland–
notreallywantingtohangoutatmyhousefortheeveningandnotreallyfeeling
comfortablecampingoutatShamanGuy’suntilhereturned–didn’tappeal.Being
withKaiwouldgivemesomethingtofocusonbesidestheinsaneturnofeventsand
alsoprovideaplacetooccupymybootyfortheevening.
“Really?Thatwouldbegreat!Kaiwouldlovethat.”
Wehaveaplan.
Withalong,lingeringkiss(ShamanGuylaterrevealshewasn’tsureifI’dreally
comebackorifI’djustboltforthehills),ImakemywayhometoEscondido.My
mindracesahead.HowdoIbreakthistoAirMan?DoItellhimeverything?OrdoI
leaveoutthegettingmarriedpart?Shit!Wehaven’teventoldmostofourfriends
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andcertainlynotourlargercirclewhoknowsusasMegandAirManthatweare
breakingupletaloneI’mnowgettingmarried…toanotherman.
Iknowthatasanenlightenedspiritualone,I’mnotsupposedtocareaboutwhat
otherpeoplethink.Afterall,oneofthemainEwokpracticesislearningtolove
yourselfsothatyourloveisenough.Youarewholeandcompletesothatyouletgo
oftheneedtoseeklove,attention,andapprovalfromothers.Thereisonepartofme
thatreallydoesn’tgiveaflyingyou-know-whataboutwhatothersthink,Iamso
overthemoonhappy.But,sigh,thereisstillasmallpartthatisreluctanttohurt
other’sfeelingsorfeeltheirjudgmentoverthefastchangeinevents.Iespecially
don’twanttohurtAirMan.HeisagreatguywhoIlovedeeply.We’rejustnot
compaticoonsomanyfronts.
Ienterourhousewithapoundingheart.Istammeroutthestory.Myeyesdartto
his,butthenstrayofftothedistanceorlandontheceiling.Ifeellikeagawky
teenagertryingtoarticulatemytruefeelings.Iapologize.Iapologizeforapologizing
asthere’snothingreallytoapologizefor.Webothcry.Webothlaughatthe
absurdityofitall.AirManassuresmethatit’sokay.Heunderstands.Itwas
happeninganyway.Hereallyisagowiththeflowkindofguy.Wehugandwipeoff
snotandtears.
Therearestillallthepracticalitiestoworkout.Whataboutthehouse?Whatabout
ourdog?Whatabout…Itakeadeepbreath.Wearebothemotionallywipedout.
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Therewillbetimeforallthislater.Noneedtosortitalloutinoneconversation.
Stayinthemoment,Iremindmyself.
Fornow,wowwhat?
ItellAirManmyplanistowatchKaifortheeveningandthenstayatShamanGuy’s.
I’mthinkingoftakingKaitoamindlesskid-friendlymovie.Aftertheeventsofthe
past24hoursIneedtozoneoutandit’sarunningjokeinTita’scrowdthatwhen
lifegetstobetoomuch,gotothemovies.
“CanIcometoo?”AirManasks,soundingsomewhatsheepish.Ithinkhe’sentered
hisownsortofno-man’slandandtheprospectofstayinginthehouseisnot
appealingtohimeither.
Atthispoint,allIcandoiscontinuetosurrenderandcontinuetosay,whatelse?But
yes.
SoAirManandIgetinourcarsandheadbacktoShamanGuy’shouse.Iwillbeback
–withAirManintow.God,canthisgetanystranger?
AGoodSperm
IcallaheadtoreassureShamanGuythatIamcomingbackandtowarnhimthat
AirManiswithme.Butwecomeinpeace.AirManfollowsmeinhiscarbackto
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Encinitas,retracingmyroutefromthismorning,whichnowseemslikelifetimes
ago.Howcansomuchhavechangedinlessthan12hours?
Atthedoor,therearehugsallaround.AsIwatchShamanGuygiveAirManawarm
embrace,Ithinktomyself,“Thismightjustturnouttobeokay.”IseeKaiinhis
bedroom,splayedoutacrosshisbed,absorbedinsomevideogame.IsendShaman
Guyaquestioninglook.DoesKaiknow?ShamanGuygivesmeashakeofhishead.I
breatheasighofrelief.Thatshouldmaketheeveningatleastalittleeasier.Shaman
GuytellsKaithatwe’rereadytogo,andKai’sfacebreaksintoahugegrin.He’sa
sweetkidandapparentlyhethinksthatI’moneofthecooleradultsthatheknows
sinceIamwillingtogetaslostinhisLegoworldasheis.
AirManandIheadtothetheaterwithKaiandShamanGuyheadsofftoTita’s.Atthe
theater,KaisituateshimselfbetweenmeandAirMan.Howperfectlyapt,Ithink,asI
lookoverhisheadatAirMan.Itcouldhavebeenasupremelyawkwardevening,but
somehow,inthisalternaterealitythatI’veseemedtostepinto,thisseemsnormal.
Everythingisfine.Wewillallbefine.
Themovieends,Kaiissleepy,AirManandIgiveeachotheralonghuggoodbye.A
fewtearstricklefromthecornerofmyeye,whichIquicklybrushawayasIturnto
faceKai.
“Readytogohome?”Iask,realizingthatit’smyhomenowtoo.
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KaigetshimselfreadyforbedandasksmeifI’llreadabooktohim.HeandShaman
GuyhavebeenmakingtheirwaythroughtheHarryPotterseries.Myheartmeltsa
bitmore.Thiswillbeanewpartofmylife–bedtimes,tuckingin,readinggoodnight
stories.Ican’timaginehowmuchmyworldisabouttochange.
AfterIturnoffthelights,Ifeelmomentarilyadrift.DoIhangoutonthecouchand
waitforShamanGuytoreturn?Isittooforwardtogolaydowninthebedroom?I
suddenlyrealizethatI’mbeyondexhausted,sotobeditis.Icrawlinbetween
ShamanGuy’ssheets,marvelingatthisextraordinaryday,andpromptlyzonkoutto
sleep.
ImusthavebeendeadtotheworldwhenShamanGuycamehomebecauseIdon’t
hearhimcomein,althoughIhaveafaintsensation-recollectionofmoldingmybody
tohiswhenheclimbedintobed.
Threea.m.rollsaroundandbing!MyeyesareopenandI’mwideawake,staringat
ShamanGuy,whoseeyesarealsowideopen.Webothburstoutlaughing.
“Shecaammmebaaaaa-cccckk!Shecaammmebaaaaa-cccckk!”ShamanGuydoesa
mockdanceonhisside,fistpumpsinall,inasing-songywhisper.“Oh,yeah!I’mthe
man.”
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Iplayfullypunchhisarmandsnuggleinclose.Westartrecountingthepastfew
weeks,fillinginallthepiecesandfrankly,justgettingtoknoweachother.Because
eventhoughIfeellikeIhaveknownhimforever,thereisreallysomuchIdon’t
know–orjustgotplainwrong.Idiscoverthatheisdecidedlynotavegi-saurus,but
ratherhappilyanomni-saurus.HelearnsmoreaboutwhatpromptedAirManand
mybreakingup–thecreationofmyDreamManvisionboard.Webothgiggleabout
thepingpongtable.Wherewillthatgonow?(Theleastofourworries.)Iaskwhat
hemeantaboutmebeingthesourceofhislastheartbreakinSedonaandhe
refreshesmymemoryonmyfirstrejectionofhismarriageproposal.
“Thanksforsayingyesthesecondtime,”hesayssarcastically.“Whatchanged?”he
inquires,somewhatjokinglysoItellhimaboutmy“sayyes”vision.Hethanksthe
VisionQuestCDprofusely.
HetellsmehowsexyIlookedthenightofViolet’sgoodbyedinnerinmyyogapants
andclogsandhowhethoughtIeitherreallylikedhim–orhadaheartcondition–
myheartwaspoundingsofastandhard.Wetrytoworkoutwhattheguardmeant
by“formalposition”–thefirstofathousandtimesbeforeweeventuallywesolve
themystery.
Weareinthethroesofnewyoungloveandaresohappytochatthenightaway.
Howbettertospendafewhoursinthemiddleofthenight?It’sassatisfyingas
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completingoneofthosethousand-piecejigsawpuzzles,thewholepicturefeels
completeandinfocus.
Theconversationdiesdownforaminute,wereallyshouldgetsomesleepbefore
Kaigetsup,butShamanGuyhasaslygrinonhisface.“Youknow,”hesays,“Ireally
amagoodsperm.”
“Really?”Iinquire,myeyebrowsarching,especiallygiventhelightofthenon-event
ofourfirstlove-makingattempt.
“Yep,”ShamanGuyanswersconfidently.“Youweren’tevenonthemarketfor24
hoursbeforeIswoopedinandnailedyou.”
“Iwasn’tevenonthemarketatall!”Iprotest.
“Mypointexactly!”ShamanGuycroons.“Ifyouhadbeentherewouldhavebeena
longlineofguysthatI’dbestandingbehind,dukingitout.”
“Hmmm,“Iconsiderthisunlikelyscenario.“Youdidpounceprettyquickly!”
“That’sbecauseI’mapouncer!”hereplies,“IknowwhatIwantanddon’thesitateto
grabit!”
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ShamanGuypromptlyjumpsontopofmepinningmedown.“Hey!”Ishriek,kicking
andflailinghelplesslyagainsthisticklesandkisses.
“Shh!!”hereprimands.Kaiisstillasleepinthenextroomeventhoughthefirst
cracksoflightarebeginningtoappear.
ShamanGuyampsupthekissesanotchortwo.Thistimethereseemstobesome
hardnessstirring.
“Wait,aminute.”Isay,“Ithoughtyouwerecelibate?”
ShamanGuyletsoutthebiggest,mostboominglaughthatcertainlywasn’tkeeping
inhis“bequiet”edict.“Me?”Hecanhardlygetthewordsout.“OhGod….”hecan
hardlybreathe.“No…never!Whatevergaveyouthatidea?”
Isheepishlyremindhimofhisstatementatbreakfast.“Thatwasajoke!Iwasbeing
sarcastic.”IguessIstillhaveabittolearnabouthim.AndthenItellhimafterthis
afternoon,ander…,himnotbeingabletogethard,itallmadesense.
Hisfacegoesalittlecloudyforamoment.“Honestly,Ijustgotnervous.Ikept
thinkingabouthowIhadTHEnagualwomaninmybedandIbetternot@#*%this
up.Thiswasmyoneshot.”Heshakeshishead.“AndIcan’tbelieveyoustillsaid
you’dmarryme,notknowingifyouhaddamagedgoods!”
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Nowit’smyturntodissolveintogiggles.
“Butmaybe,”ShamanGuysaysinhismostseductivevoice,“Wecanremedythat
situation?Givemeanothershot?”
Well,thatone’sano-brainer.Yes.Yes…Yes….OhGod.YES!
Houston,wehaveliftoff.
HeyBabyWannaBoogie?
“Uh…uh…uh…Uh…”
Iawakenanhourorsolatertoanemptybedandthesoundofgruntingcomingfrom
thelivingroom.It’sdeepandloudandthroaty.Iamaslowwaker-upperinthe
morningssoI’mdoingmybesttofigureoutwhatthisnoisereallyis,ifthisnoiseis
comingfromShamanGuy,andifso,whythehellit’scomingfromanotherroom.I’m
notfamiliarenoughyetwithhisfullrangeofsoundstoknowifthisisoneofthemor
not.
“Uh…uh…uh…Uh…Heybabywannaboogie?Wannaboogiewoogiewoggiewith
me?”
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NowIamthoroughlyconfused.Alongsidethesong(ifyoucouldevencallitthat)
comingfromtheotherroom,IhearKaifranticallycalling,“Dad!Dad!”ShamanGuy
islaughinghysterically.
“Wecanboogieoverhere.Wecanboogieoverthere.Comeonbabywecanboogie
everywhere!Heybabeyawannaboogie?Boogiewoogiewoogiewithme.”
Ithrowonsomeclothesandmakemywaytothelivingroom.ApparentlyShaman
GuyandKaiarealreadyupandShamanGuyhasalertedKaitothefactthatthere’sa
femaleguestinthehouse.KaiisofcoursehorrifiedthatShamanGuywouldputon
thisparticularsongandfearsthatShamanGuywillblowallchancesofeverhaving
mebackover.Heisgesturingtoturnitoff!NowDad!!
AsIstepintothelivingroom,ShamanGuygrabsmeandswingsmearoundsinging
along.“Uh…uh….Uh…Uh…Heybabeyawannaboogie?Boogiewoogiewoogiewith
me.Wecanboogieinthelivingroomandboogieintheyard.”Hedropshisvoiceto
whisperinmyear,“Comeonbabyitain'tveryhard.Heybabeyawanna
boogie?Boogiewoogiewoogiewithme.”
NowIamcrackinguptoo.Thisisthemostridiculoussong,especiallyasawake-up
call.Iamofficiallylivinginawack-a-doodledream.“Wecanboogieonthefloor.We
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canboogieonthetable.Wecanboogieonthelamp.Atleastyouthinkyoumightbe
able?”
“Iwasablethistime…Feelingsatisfiedthismorning?”ShamanGuysaysinalow
voicewithasmuggrin.
Comingfromanyotherguy,Iwouldhavethoughthewasalittlejuvenilewiththe
sexualinnuendos.ButIgiveShamanGuythebenefitofthedoubt.Jokingcancover
allmannerofhurtsandsensitivities.Isensethatdeepdownhismaleegotookabit
ofabruisingyesterdaysoIcuthimabreakandswatathimplayfullyashedipsme
forthefinalchorusofthesong.“Heybabeyawannaboogie?Boogiewoogiewoogie
withme…”
Yes,Iwanttoboogiewoogiewoogiewithhimfortherestofmylife.Ilookoverat
Kai,whoisnowsmilingtoo,relievedthatI’mcoolwiththehorrifyingsongandhis
horrifyingdad.Itakeinthesunstreaminginthewindow,theboyclutterstrewn
aroundtheroom,andthetwoguyswhoareobviouslypleasedaspunchtohaveme
beapartoftheirmorning.Weallaregiggling.It’sthebeginningofournew,wild
andcrazylifetogether.
TheFullyShiningWoman
Forthefirstandonlytimeinourentirerelationship,ShamanGuycooksusbreakfast
withoutprompting.(Ok,oktobetotallyfairShamanGuyhascookedforusbetween
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oneandtwohandfuloftimesinthelastdecade,andmaybeonemoretimewithout
beingasked.)Enjoy,I’mbeingspoiledandalittledupedintothinkingIcouldget
usedtothis.
Thethreeofusdigintoeggs,bacon,andtoastandchatasifwehavebeenhaving
breakfaststogetherourwholelives.ThenShamanGuybreaksthenews.
“Kai,MegsleptoverlastnightandyouknowthatIdon’tusuallyhavewomenstay
over.”
KaiisblushingslightlyandsoamI.I’mnotsureifShamanGuy’ssayingthisformy
benefitorKai’s.
“SoIfinallyfoundher.”
KaiandIlookatShamanGuyabitpuzzled.
“Ifoundmyfullyshiningwoman.”
Kai’sfacelightsupintoanenormousgrin.I’mtheonlyonewhoisn’tfollowingthis
conversation.
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“Doyouagree?”ShamanGuyisaskingKai.SomehowI’mbeingvettedherebutI’m
totallyoutoftheloop.Perhapsmychillnessoverhisdad’sbizarremusicaltastewill
helpmychances?IlookhopefullyatKai.Kainotbeingpleasedwiththisnew
arrangementcouldobviouslybeadeal-breaker.
“Definitely!”Kaisays.
“Wouldsomeoneliketocluemeinonwhatwe’retalkingabouthere?”Iask.
“Meoryou?”ShamanGuyasksKai.
“You,”Kaireplies.
“Ok,I’lltell.Afewyearsago,IwasdatingafewdifferentwomenandtherewasoneI
reallyliked.WewerelivinginBostonandshelivedinNewYork.Sheinvitedme
downfortheweekendandIwasallexcitedtogo.AfewdaysbeforeIwassupposed
toleave,sheaskedmewhereIwasgoingtostay.Well,ofcourseIwasbummed
becauseIhadassumedthatI’dbestayingwithher,right?WhenIgotoffthephone
withher,KaiaskedmewhatwaswrongandItoldhimthesituation.Kailookedat
meandwithmorewisdomthanaten-yearoldshouldpossess,hesaid,‘Dad,it’slike
this.Gooutandhavefunwithallthewomenyouwant.Justplay.Butholdoutfor
thatonefullyshiningwomantocomeintoyourlifebeforeyouaskanyoneelseto
marryyou.’Well,Iwasjustblownaway!Hewasabsolutelyright.Iimmediately
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wrotedownwhathesaidandsincethenI’vebeenwaitingformyfullyshining
woman.”ShamanGuyandKailookateachotherinatenderfather-sonmoment.
“Goodadvice.Thanksagain.”
Kainodslookingveryself-satisfied.
ShamanGuyturnstome,“AndnowI’vefoundyou.Myfullyshiningwoman.Thank
youforbeinginmylife.”Thecornersofhiseyesaremistyandhekissesthebackof
myhand.
I’llalittleteary–andfullybeamingnowtoo.
TheSteamRoom
ShamanGuydepositsKaiathisbrother’s,wholivesinthenextbeachtownover.I
optforafewminutesofalonetimebeforeweheadtoTita’ssoIcanprocessall
that’stranspiredinthelastday.IsettleintoShamanGuy’sdreamingchairtotryto
thinkthroughwhat’swhat.
ButIcannotthink.MymindkeepsdriftingoffintoNeverneverland,blissedoutand
toooverloadedtoberational.Ismiletomyselfatthedesiretothinkthroughthe
day’sevents.Howverymind-liketowanttounderstandandsortandfeelincontrol
ofwhatisdecidedlyunexplainableandillogical.Thisfuzzy,yetaliveandpresent,
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stateiswheresomanyspiritualseekersstrive,andthenwhenwearrive,themind
oftenwantstoscurrybacktosafetylikeahermitcrabfacingtheincomingtide.
Surrenderingtowhatis,Iwaftandslideandoozeinthisdelightful,yummyspace
untilShamanGuycomeshometoretrieveme.Weelecttotakethecoastalroute
fromEncinitasupthe101toCarlsbad,windingthroughprettylittletowns,palm
treesflashingby,andthePacifictwinklingtoourleft.It’saquiet,butcontented
drive.
WearriveatTita’sjustasthegroupisabouttobreakforlunch.Titalooksupfrom
addressingthegrouptoseeShamanGuyandIentertheroomglowing.AirManis
noticeablynotatmyside.Inaninstant,IcanseethatTitaintuitswhathappened.Yet
withoutmissingabeat,shecontinuestowrapupthemorning.
LunchisservedandinspiteofthemanystudentsclamoringforTita’sattention,I
managetopullherasideforafewminutesandexcitedlyrelaythebasicnews.She
shakesherheadabit,laughs,andgivesmeahuge,warmhug,“Congratulations.I’m
sohappyforyou.”We’llhavetowaitforlatertorecountallthejuicydetailsbecause
therearestudentstoattendtofornow.
Titagoesoverherplanfortheafternoonandeveningwithme–she’llberelyingon
metoorganizeandfacilitatethemitoteplannedfortonight.Atleastoneofuswillbe
atthealtaratalltimestoensuretheceremonyflowsandtheenergyistendedto.
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Titamakesitclearthatshe’llbeleaningonme,ifneeded,tobepresentthroughout
thenightsoshecansleepenoughtoteachcoherentlythenextmorning.We’reset
andwithanothersqueezewejumpintoteachingmode.
EveningrollsaroundandIassemblethetroopstolayoutthesemi-complicated
arrangementsfordividingthegroupandcreatinganorderforeachgrouptoattend
tothecenteraltar.Iexplainhoweachgroupwillhandoffthetasktothenextgroup.
Ialsomentionthatwehaveamirrorboxsetup,thankstoShamanGuy,inthe
basementforanyonewhowantstoexperienceanextraboostofenergyand
awareness.Whenyou’renotaskedtocometothealtarorasleep,feelfreetospend
sometimeinit.Iimpressupontheattendeestobemindfulofhowmuchtimethey
dospendinside,astheenergycanbequitepowerfulandalittlecanbeenough.My
daysoforganizinganddiscipliningchildreninclassroomscomesinhandyfor
workshopsandmitotes.I’mimpressedthatmylove-addledbrainisupforthis
tonight,butmiraclesneverceasewhenthere’saneed.
AtsomepointAirManslipsintotheroom.Ismiletowelcomehimandhesmiles
backatme,thenfadesintothebackgroundoftheroom.Uncharacteristically,
ShamanGuyissittingupfronttotheside.Henormallycirclestheoutsideedgesofa
group,actingasasentryandprotector.Buttonight,he’sfrontandcenter,hisenergy
positivelypoppingandsparking.
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Ibrieflywonderabouthowthethreeofuswillactenergeticallytonight.Assenior
studentsandemergingteachers,AirManandIoftenassistedtogetheratworkshops,
whetheritwastoverballyaddtoorclarifywhatwasbeingsaidortoholdthespace
forthegroup.Eventhoughwehadbeenromanticallytogether,itoftenfeltlikewe
workedindividuallywheningroups.
IamcurioushowShamanGuyandIwouldinteract,astherewasastronglineageof
male-femaleenergeticpartnershipsinourtribe(regardlessofwhetherornotthe
manandwomanwerepartnersromantically).GivenourfewinteractionsinSedona
andtheenergythatwasnowbuzzingbetweenus,Iwasguessingthatwe’dbe
stirringupsomegoodjujutogether.Asthiswasourfirstworkshoptogether,the
nightwouldtell.
TitaandIopentheceremonyandinvitetheparticipantstocallinalltheenergies–
fromthenorth,thesouth,theeast,thewest,thewater,theearth,theair,thefire,the
animals,theplants,therocks,theoceans,thesun,themoon,alongwithsomeminor
godsanddeitiestoboot.Theenergyintheroomshiftsandshimmers.Everyone
dropsintoabeautiful,quiet,stillandcenteredplace.They’llbenotalkingfromnow
untilthemitoteends.It’sgoingtobeapowerfulonetonight.
Overthenextfewhours,theceremonyhumsalong.Thegroupsfallintoarhythmof
comingandgoingfromthealtar.Tita,ShamanGuyandIsitthroughallthe
movement,holdingandamplifyingtheenergy.Sweet,sosweet.Titaseemstobe
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fine,oftentheenergycarriesyouthroughthenight,andIamfeelingpulledtositin
themirrorboxdownstairs.IleavethealtarandhearShamanGuyfollowbehindme.
Weopenthedoorofthe4’x4’boxmirrorboxandseethatMulaBondaYogiisalready
inside.Hemotionsforustojoinhim,observingthenounnecessarytalking
agreement.ShamanGuyandIlookateachother,checkingin,intrigued.MulaBonda
andShamanGuyarebothbigguys.Butthereisnowaywearegoingtosaynoto
playinginsidethebox,we’vebothfeltthecall.
ShamanGuycrawlsinsideandsitsshoulder-to-shoulderwithMula.Ipeerintrying
tounlockhowIwillwedgemyselfintothisrathersmallspacetoo.Idecidethebest
approachwouldbetositfacingthem,inthemiddleoftheoppositeside.Wespenda
fewminutesarrangingfeetandbodypartsuntilwecanallsettleintoareasonably
comfortableshape,albeitabitpretzel-like.Giventhedarknessandthereflections
fromthemirrors,weappeartobeamulti-headed,multi-limbedmutatedcreature.
Energeticallyweallsettleinandanotherdimensionopensup.AsIgentlystareinto
themirrors,myheadseemstomergewithShamanGuys.Myeyesappeartooverlap
MulaBonda’s.Ikeeprelaxing,lettinggo.Myfaceinthemirrormorphsintoanold
woman’s,anancientNative,ahawk.Iclosemyeyesandhearourthreebreathes
syncup,creatingthesoundofanocean,thewind,timelessspace.Ijourneythrough
timeanddark,limitlessspacecatchingglimpsesofmyownpersonalpast,ofother
sacredceremonies,visitingpowerspotsaroundtheworld.Therearecordsand
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networksoflightandenergythatstretchacrosstheplanet.Itravelthrough
corridorsignitingtheenergythathaslaidlatent.
Droppingdeeper,Ifeelaninfinityloopopen.Iamsittingatoneend,thedivine
feminine,andShamanGuyandMulaBondaaresittingattheother,thedivine
masculine.Theenergycirclesinafigureeight,movingthroughme,outandaround
tothemen,throughthem,circlingandcrossinginthemiddlebacktome.Thereisno
beginningandnoend.Asthispatternstrengthens,avortexofenergyeruptsfrom
thecenter,shootingupanddown,ifthereisevenanupordowninthisspace.It
explodesoutinalldirects,coveringthepeopleintheceremonyaroundus,our
largercommunity,thetownwearein,runninghotandfastalongthecoast,
spreadingoutoverthemountainsinland,acrosstheplains,overriversandhills,
anotherocean,circlingtheworld,touchingthemoon,thestarsandswoopingback
tousagain.
Hours?Minutes?Later,thereisaraponthedoor.Startled,myeyesflyopen,onlyI
cannotsee.MulaBondaYogiandShamanGuyaregoneandyetIcanstillfeeltheir
legsandfeettuckedagainstme.Thedoorswingsopenandacloudofsteam,asthick
asthecoastalfogthatoftenhangsoutalongtheshore,ispulledoutwardwiththe
draft.
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Tita’sfacepeersin.“What’sgoingoninhere?”shedemands,herfeaturesdistorted
fromourtriparoundthegalaxy.“I’vebeenlookingalloverforyou!”shesaysinmy
direction.
Imumbleanapologyandbeginextractingmyselffromthejumbleoflimbs.
Apparentlywe’vespentmostofthenightinthemirrorbox,desertingtheceremony
above.I’mnotsureifIshouldbeproudofmyselfforgoingwiththeenergyorbea
bitsheepishforabandoningmypost.
Icrawloutofthebox,myclothesandhairdrippingwet,pullmyselftogetherbestI
can,andstumbleupthestairsbehindTitatobegreetedthroughthehugepicture
glasswindowswiththesunbreakingdawn.Wereallydidgetlostinanenergy
vortex,somewhereremovedfromtimeandplace.
TitaandImovethroughthehousecollectingallthepeoplewhoarestillsleepingin
ordertoclosetheceremonyforthenight.MulaandShamanGuytakeabitmore
timeuntanglingthemselvesfromthesteamroomandmaketheirwayupstairsas
well.
Aftereveryoneassembles,facingthemiddleoftheroom,wereleasetheenergiesin
thereverseorderofhowwehavecalledthemin,eachpersonresponsibleforthe
onetheyoriginallyinvited.AsShamanGuyreleasesthesunandIreleasethemoon,I
feeltheremnantsofthedanceofthemasculineandfeminine,thelightandthedark,
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thedayandthenightthathaveplayedoutbetweenandwithinustonight.Our
comingtogetherisgoingtobeonepowerfulunion.
Ilookaroundtheroom,checkinginwithalltheparticipantsenergetically,and
mentallyassessingwhethereveryone’spresentandaccountedfor.Themitotehas
doneit’smagic.ThenInoticethatIdon’tseeAirManinthegroupandhadn’tseen
himatallthroughoutthenight.It’sasifhedisappearedwithoutatrace.
RealityCheck
Theworkshopisover;participantsarepackingupandsayingtheirgoodbyes.Tita
andIretiretothesanctityofherbedroom,wherewecandownloadandrecapthe
nightinrelativepeace.It’soneofourritualsafterteachingtogether.ShamanGuy
hasbeendraftedtohaulluggagedownthelongflightofstairstothewaitingcars.
Weplopdownonherbed,comingdownofftheenergyhighofthemitote.
Amazingly,youcanstayupandnotbeatalltiredthroughoutthenight,onlytocrash
thenextafternoon.Wearedissectingtheeventsandsharingourobservationsabout
eachparticipant’sprogresswhenRishiknocksandenters,“HeyMamacitas!Ithink
we’reallset.”
TitapatsthebedandRishijoinsus.Rishiisabitofaconundrum.Anex-copwho
eventuallyturnsBuddhistchaplain,alesbianwhowasmarriedbutturnsouttobe
poly-amorous(yep,she’stheoneShamanGuydatedwhen“celibate”).Shehas
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rentedaroomfromTitaoffandonforyearssoshealsoplayshousehusbandgiven
thatTita’spartner,Manny,isn’tallthathandy.She’shilariousandunpredictable,
hard-assandtotallyloveableallinone.Apparentlyshe’sputthehousebackin
order,nosmalltaskgiventhesizeofourgathering.
Thethreeofuschatandthenanotherknockonthedoor.“Isitsafetocomein?”
ShamanGuyinquires.Wenod,scootoverandmakeroomforShamanGuy.Thetalk
turnstothegoodstuffwhenTitainquires,“Nowjustwhatisgoingonwiththetwo
ofyou?”ShamanGuyandIstartfillingTitaandRishiin,relishinginsharingour
goodnewswithothers.Itfeelslikewearecomingoutofourlittlelovebubbleofthe
pastfewdays.Asthestoryiswindingdown,AirManwondersin.Hepausesfora
momentinthedoorwayandTitapromptlysays,“Ohc’monnow.”Andweallslide
overatigemoresoAirMancanjoinus.
“Howyoudoing?”Iask.AirManadmitsitwasabitofaroughnight,butfeelslike
he’sthroughtheworstofit.Ican’tbelievehe’sstillheresinceIhaven’tseenhimat
allinthepast12hours,butapparentlyhejustwasn’tonmyradar.Titaoffershima
fewwordsofwisdom.Weallreachoutenergeticallytogivehimahugorasqueeze,
sympathizingwithhowawkwardthiscouldbeandmarvelingathowokayitallis.
Nevertheless,it’sbeenalongnightandwearegrowingabitdelirious.Someone
startsmappingoutalltheconnectionsandrelationshipsbetweenallofusinthebed
–teacher,student,“spiritualmother/daughter,”ex-boyfriendsandgirlfriends,and
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loversand“husbands”andjustfriends.It’sreallyprettyabsurdandprettyamazing
thatwecanallbeinonebedtogether(fullyclothed,getyourmindoutofthegutter)
andhappilyco-existing.Perhapsthisisthewayofthefuture.Peaceandlove,man.
Butthepartymustend.Hungerdrivesusallinsearchoffood.Kaineedstobe
pickedup;tomorrow’saschoolday.Timetogetupandgo.
IgohomewithShamanGuy,hopingtogetagoodnight’ssleep.Itfeelslikeweeks
sinceI’vesleptthroughthenight.Butalas,no,ShamanGuyandIwakeupagainin
thedeadofthenight.
“Weshouldstoprunningintoeachotherlikethis,”ShamanGuysayswhenIopen
myeyes.
“Oratleastpickamoredecenttime,“Iretort.
“Shouldwetalkaboutthefuture?”ShamanGuyasks.“Orshouldwestaylivinginlalaland?”
Thela-lalandthatwe’vebeeninhabiting,righthereinSanDiego,isquitefinewith
me.Butrealitylooms.Wehaven’treallyhadanytimetotalkaboutaplan.The
movingtruckisstillcomingforhisbelongingsnextweekandIamstillofficiallyina
leaseandhousewithAirMan.KaiissettofinishouttheweekofschoolhereinCali,
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govisithismom,andthenisenrolledinaschoolbackEast.Wehavealotofsorting
outtodo.
“Well,”saysShamanGuy,“Iguessthere’sonlyonewaytodothis.”
“Onlyoneway?”Iaskindisbelief.
“Yeah,”ShamanGuyreplies.“YoucanmovebacktotheEastCoastwithKaiandIsoI
cangetbacktowork.”
IamcrystalclearthatIdonotwanttomovebackEast.I’vebecomeaCaliGirlat
heart.Ilovetheweather,orlackthereof.I’vefoundmytribe.Ihaveagreatjob
runningMio’snon-profit,evenifIdoneedtofindanewincomestreamforthe
foundationsincehisheartattackhasputhiminsemi-retirement.Mywholeworldis
hereandI’mhappy.IcontemplateShamanGuy’sofferforlessthan10seconds.
WithcompleteclarityIreply,“I’mnotmovingbackEast.Ifyouneedtomove,I
understand.We’llfiguresomethingout.ButI’mnotgoing.”
Ifeelstrangelyfreeandcalminthismoment.IamabsolutelyfinewithShamanGuy
leavingifhechoosesto.Iwilllovehimhere,orIcanlovehimthere.ButIamstaying
here.
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“Wow,”ShamanGuyrepliesstunned.“Thatsucks.There’sjustnootherway.”He
soundscompletelydejected.
“Really?”Iaskagain.“Thereisonlyonepossiblesolutiontothisentiresituation.”
“Yeah,”ShamanGuyinsistsdeadserious.
“Onlyoneway?”Iaskagain.“Inthisworldfullofinfinitepossibilities,there’sjust
one?”Iamdoingmybestnottocompletelycrackupathisthick-headedness,butit’s
really,reallyhardnottoletagiggleburstout.
“Ok,smarty-pants.Givemeone.”
Iproceedtoreeloffatleastfivedifferentscenarios.IcouldmoveinhereandKai
couldkeepgoingtoschooldownthestreet.ShamanGuyandKaicouldmoveinto
myhouseinEscondidoandAirMancouldmoveout.ShamanGuycouldstarta
carpentrybusinesshere.WecouldallmovetoCoronadoIslandwheretherearelots
ofVictorianhousesthataremoreinlinewithShamanGuy’sexpertise.ShamanGuy
couldcomewithmetoMexicoonanupcomingtripandwecouldfigureitoutfrom
there.Wecould….
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“Okay,okay.Igetit!”ShamanGuyisnowlaughingtoo.Inthecomingyears,when
ShamanGuy’sblackorwhite,Aries/malepointofviewcomesonfullforce,I’lloften
teasehimthathe’sright,thereisonlyoneway.
“Well,IdidsaythattheonlythingthatwouldkeepmehereontheWestCoastisa
shotatyou.Iguesswe’restayingthen.”
Ismilesmugly(Iknow,notoneofmybettertraitsbutIcan’tresist),“Iknowwecan
workitallout.”
WedecidetofigureoutawaytomakeitpossibleforShamanGuyandKaitostayon
theWestCoast.Atleastoneofusnowhasajobandthatchangeseverythingfor
ShamanGuy.PlusKaiwouldbejustashappystayingherewherehisfriendsare
insteadofdroppingintoanewschoolinthemiddleofayear.
“OhGod.Themovers.Theschool.Kai’smom.Mymom,”ShamanGuygroans.
“There’ssomuchtore-arrangeandtakecareof.”
“Don’tworry,”Ireassurehim.“Thisismyspecialty.”Iseemtoexcelatcomplicated
logistics.
WebataroundafewscenariosandsettleongoingovertotalkwithAirManinthe
morning.SinceShamanGuyisoutofhisleaseonMarch1standAirManandIarestill
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inoursforafewmoremonths,itseemstomakesensetomoveintomyplaceif
AirManisamenabletothat.GiventhatAirMandoesn’thaveasteadystreamof
incomeeitherandourmini-mansionisprobablyalotmorethanhewantstotakeon
byhimself,I’mthinkingitmightbeagoodplan.ShamanGuyrevealsthatanother
EwokhadspokentohimaboutaprojectinEscondido,maybethatcouldbeajobfor
him.Kai’sschoolherewouldprobablybemorethanhappytohavehimcomplete
theschoolyearandIcouldhelpindrivinghimbackandforthfromschooleachday.
Satisfiedthattherewasleastonepossiblesolution,wecatchanhourortwoofsleep.
Thenextmorning,ShamanGuygetsKaioutthedoorandhedrivesmebackto
Escondido.Atthebottomoftheprivateroadthatleadsuptoourdriveway,our
garbagecanshavebeenemptiedandflungtotheside.“Thoseyourcans?”Shaman
Guyasks.WhenIrespondinthepositive,hestopshistruck,hopsout,andloads
themintheback.Mymouthishangingtothegroundwhenheclimbsbackinthe
cab.I’mstaringathim.“Thankyou,”Isaysincerely.
“Forwhat?”heasks.
“Forpickingupthetrashcanswithoutbeingasked,”Ireply.Thisissuchanovelty.
Histhoughtfulness,especiallygiventhefactthatthesearenotofficiallyhistrash
cans,touchesmedeeply.It’sarelieftorealizethatIwillnolongerhavetothinkofit
all.
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“Iwouldn’tthinkofdoingitanyotherway,”hesays.“It’smypleasure,butreallyit’s
nobigdeal.”
IthinkIjustfellevenharderforhim,ifthatisatallpossible.
Wedriveuptheroad,openthegate,andupourdriveway.AirMan’snowheretobe
foundsoShamanGuyandIwalkourpropertytakingitinasapossibleplaceforus
tocallhomebase.ShamanGuyhasdonesomerepairsaroundtheplacebut
obviouslyneverconsideredtakingitontocallhisown.Besidesthehouse,thereare
anabundanceoffruitbearingtrees,asmall“chapel”thathasbeenbothAirMan’sart
studioandameditationsanctuary,adefuncthottub,agazebo,gardens,andthe
stuccowallsthatenclosethecompound.
Wearesittingbythenon-workinghottub,aplaceI’veneverspenttimenearsinceit
doesn’tworkandAirManwasn’tafix-itkindofguy.“Maybewecouldbuythis
place,“Imuse,seeingthepossibilitiesoflivingherewithsomeonewhocould
renovatetheplace.Althoughthecasasoundsgrand,it’sratherrougharoundthe
edgesandhasseenbetterdays.Thenearbylake,whichwasonceapopularboating
spot,isnowbone-dryandhassufferedintherecentyears-longdrought.That,
combinedwiththerecentwildfireshaddrivendownpropertyvalues.Maybethese
circumstanceswouldmakeitplausibleforus?
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ShamanGuylooksatme,hard.“Ithinkweneedtohaveatalk,”hesays,obviously
notfollowingmedownthecrackpipedreamI’mspouting.Yetforme,anythingis
possibleinthismoment.
“Iwanttomakesureyouknowwhatyouaregettingintobeforewegotoofar.”
“Ok,”IsayasItakeadeepbreath.He’smakingthissoundkindofominous.
“YoudorealizeI’m44,right?I’llbe45inamonth.”
“What?!???”Ishriek.“You’rekidding!”Heseriouslydoesn’tlookayearolderthan
meandI’vejustturnedthebig3-0lastyear.Noone,andImeannoone,wouldhave
guessedhisagetobemorethanafewyearsolderthanmemax.
“When’syourbirthday?”Iask,notingtheironyofbeingengagedandnotknowing
this.
“March26th.Yours?”
“May29th.Ican’tbelieveyou’realmost45.Areyoujoking?”
“Nope.Freakofnature,Iguess,”hereplies.
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Iquicklydothemath.He’s14,almost15yearsolderthanme.ButI’mcoolwiththat.
Doesn’tseemlikeanybigdealespeciallysincehelookssoincredible.
“Ihaveanalmostteenageson,”hecontinues.
“Yeah,I’mawareofthat.”Kaiisalittlehardtomiss.
“I’moutofmoney.Ican’taffordhistuitionanymore.”
“I’llcoverituntiltheendoftheschoolyearandthenwe’llfigureoutsomethingfor
nextyear,”Icounter.
“I’vebeenmarriedthreetimesbefore.You’llbemyfourthwife.”
“Alright,”Iconsiderthisforamoment.Theremustbesomegoodstoriesthere.And
ifhe’swillingtotryagain,soamI.Doesn’tconcernme.“HopefullyI’mfourthand
final.”
“Agreed.AndI’mover$50,000increditcarddebt.Idon’tthinkI’llbebuyingahouse
anytimesoon.”
Itakeineverythinghe’ssaid.Noneofitfazesme.Noteventhedebt,andIam
usuallyallergictocreditcarddebt,aleftoverofBazer’sways.“Notabigdeal,”Isay
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confidently,lookinghimintheeye.“Areyoutryingtodissuademe?”Iask.“Because
it’snotworking.IloveyouandIhavenodoubtthatitwillallworkout.”
ShamanGuyshakeshisheadandpullsmeinforanembrace.“Youreallyare
amazing.Afullyshiningwoman.”
ShamanGuygavemeanoutandIdidn’ttakeit.Inhistell-allrealitycheck,the
biggestshockerwasn’ttheenormousdebtorthenumerousex-wives,butratherhis
ageandpurelyfromawould-have-never-guessed-it-in-a-million-yearspointof
view.MaybeIshouldputthecrackpipedownnow,butIhaveabsolutefaithandam
seeingtheworldthroughrose-coloredglasses.Iwashooked,lined,andsunkinlove
anddeterminedtofindawaytomakeitworkoutinspiteofitall.LittledidIknow
thatitwouldn’tbeallrosesandchampagneforever.
BreakingNews
AirManstillhasn’tappearedandeventhoughIhaveaflexibleworkschedule,Ido
takemyjobseriouslysoIdecideit’stimetokickShamanGuytothecurb–
temporarily.Ispoutsomewaterworksafterheleaves,thenpullmyselftogether.Igo
tositdownatmycomputertoworkbutIamcompletelydistractedwiththoughtsof
ShamanGuyandbuildingourlifetogether.ThankGodIsetmyownhoursand
usuallyputinlongerthanrequireddayssoIcanaffordtoskimpalittletoday.
Icantakethetimetomakejustonecalltospreadthenews,right?Irollmyeyesat
myself.Iamsoallovertheplace.
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Ijustcan’tresist–IcanhardlybelieveI’vewaitedthislong-soIboundupstairsto
thecouch,curlup,andpickupthephonetocallPink.She’sbeenoutoftownwith
Mioonabusinesstripandhasbeenoutofthelooponthewhirlwindofthepastfew
days.
“Pink!”Ipracticallyshriekwhensheanswersthephone.Shecanbehardtoget
aholdof.Istarttalkingamileaminutebeforeshecanevensayhello.“Youare
NEVERgoingtoguesswhathappened.”
Iamdyingforhertoguessandyetthereisnowayininfinitythatshe’sgoingto
comeupwithananswerevenremotelyclosedespitethefactthatsheismysoul
sister.Afterall,whocouldwithallthat’sbeengoingdown.“What?What?”sheasks
excitedly.
“I’mgettingmarried!!”
Thereisdeadsilenceontheotherendofthephone.Alongsilence…
Let’sjustpausehereforaminutetolethertakeallthisin.
“What?”shefinallyasks.“Yousaidyou’regettingmarried?”
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Icanhearthewheelsspinninginhermind,tryingtoapproachthissituation
gingerly.Asfarassheknows,AirManandIareallbutbrokenup.Iamobviously
wildlyenthusiasticaboutgettingmarried.SoI’veeitherlostmyrockerormadea
reallybadchoiceingettingengagedtoAirMan.
IamhavingtoomuchfunwiththiswholeconversationsoIcontainmyselffor
anotherminutetoletherhanginsuspenseandworkitall(erroneously)though.I
know,Icanbeevil.
Finally,finally,sheasks,“Towhom?”
Nowatleastshehasaslight,teeny,tinychanceofguessingthispartsoIcan’tresist.
“Guess!”
“Ok.Uh…AirMan?”shestartswiththemostlogicalchoice.
“No!Guessagain.”
“Ok,“Ihearsomereliefinhervoice.Sheisbeingagoodsport,soshetriesagain,
“BeautifulBoy?”Shethrowsoutthenameofoneoftheonlyhot,available,young
guysinourcircleoffriendswhoprettymucheveryonehasacrushon.
“No,nothim!”
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“MulaBondaYogi?”
“Nope.He’stakenandI’mnotinterested.Tryagain!”Itrill.
“Ireallydon’tknow.MilitaryMan?”Pinkisthrowingoutwildballs,revertingtothe
choicesthatwecameupwithanddismissedinourMatchmakingGame.
“No,no,no!”Ican’tstanditanymoresoIcometoherrescue.“ShamanGuy!”
“What?!?”It’snowherturntoshriek,”Buthow?Tellmewhathappened!Ithought
yousaidthatyou’dnevergooutwithhim?Andnowyou’regettingmarried?”
“Iknow!!”AndthenIsettleintocontentedlytellheraboutthepastweek–covering
theemails,Violet’sdinner,thedreams,thedate,themitote.Ichatandchatandletit
allcomepouringoutlikeatsunami.
Pinkisanextraordinarilygoodlistenerandhasheardhershareofbizarre
happeningsinourlittlecommunitysoshemanagestoabsorbitallandcongratulate
me.Iknowherprotectivenessfor“myMeghan”hasbeenactivated.You’dhaveto
wonderaboutafriendwhoisn’tatleastalittleconcernedaboutastorylikethisone.
Ifinishup,“Iknowit’sallalittlecrazy,butwaituntilyouseeustogether.Then
you’llunderstand.”
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Wemakeaplantogettogetherandcelebrate.Pinkhasspentverylittletimewith
ShamanGuysothiswillalsobeachanceforhertogettoknowhim.Iampraying
thatmybestfriendandmynewmainsqueeze,abouttobehusband,fallinlovewith
eachothertoo.Iplantohaveallofusspendingquiteabitoftimetogetherinthe
future.
Ihangupthephoneanddecidetoatleastmakeanattempttowork.Afterall,I
promisedShamanGuyIwould.Hewasadvocatingsomesemblanceofnormality
andbalanceinouroverturnedworld.Ifinallysitdownatmycomputerandgroanas
alltheautomaticreminderspopup.Stop!Toomuchreality!Idecidetostartwithmy
emailandmyheartdoesalittlejigwhenIseethelatestoneisfromShamanGuy.
Muchbetter!
________
ILOVEYOU!!!!!!!!!!
J
________
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Howsweetisthisguy?Istareoffintospaceforagoodlongwhile.Allthepiecesofa
planarecoalescinginmymind.I’mgoingtoletitsimmer–andtrackdownAirMan
tosortouthisendofthismatter–beforeIelaborateonwhatI’veconcoctedwith
ShamanGuy.Ifireanemailbacktokeephimupdatedonwhat’shappenedsincehe
leftmysideafewhoursago.
________
DearJ,
Whenyoulefttoday,IjustsatdownandcriedbecauseIamsohappyandsoamazed
bywhatwecreatedandarecreating(incaseyouaregettingwetrightnow,those
wouldbethetearsI'mcrying).Iamsoinfinitelygratefulforlife,foryou,forme.I
thankyouwithallmyheartforsayingyes.AndIthankmyselfwithallmyheartfor
sayingyestoo.IlovethatIgotuptoworkbecauseIheard"YoupromisedShamanGuy
youwould,"AndthenIsatdownatthecomputer,therewasareminderonmyscreen
thatsaid"OVERDUE-LOOKATFINANCES!!!"andthefirstinemailsaid"JG...ILOVE
YOU!!!!!!!!!!"
ALLmyloveandgratitude,
J.MeghanMcChesney
TheOne&OnlyWife,Lover,andSexKittenofJG
P.S.ShouldthatreadJ.MeghanGilroy?
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P.P.SWaittillyouseewhatIamdreamingupnext!!!
P.P.P.S.Keepsayingyestoeveryopportunity-especiallywithworkones!
LastPS,thenIswearI'mworking...DoyouhaveAmericanExpresspoints??
Let'sputthatcreditcarddebttowork!
________
Idecideit’suselesstogetmuchworkdoneandIamonsuchahighfromcallingPink
andfromShamanGuy’sshortbutsweetemailthatIshootoffseveralemailsandcall
afewmorefriends.Thereactionsfallintooneoftwocategories:stunnedsilenceor
what-the-hell-are-you-thinking?Mostofourfriendsdidn’tevenknowthatthere
wastroubleinMegandAirManlandsotheyaretryingtosortthroughthedeathwhat
theyarefamiliarwith-oneofthestalwartcouplesinourcirclehasflamedoutand
alsogulpdownthecrazinessofShamanGuyandImerginginsuchaspectacular
way.
Asthedayunfolds,Iamsurprisedbyhowmanypeoplealreadyhaveheardsome
versionofthenews.Goodgossipspreadslikewildfireincircle,despiteMio’sedict
otherwise.Overthenextfewdays,I’llstarttohearsomerumblings.Whoisthis
ShamanGuy?Howdarehe?He’sonlyafirstyeardreamer.Whataboutpoor
AirMan?WhatisMegthinking?!??Therearesomejudgmentalandunhappyfriends
outthere(somuchforenlightenment)andsomewhoareoverjoyedatour
happiness.
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Ooo!AnotheremailfromShamanGuy.
________
MyBeloved.
Youmakemelaugh;youmakemefeeltheunbelievableexquisitejoyinsidemeforlife,
forLoveforYOUandforME!!!IwasawashinthedrippinglydelicioushoneythatI
everfeltdrivinghome.Theconnectionwesharedefiesexplanation.Plain&simple.
Ihadtwophoneconversationsthatreflectandsupportthebeautyofourunion.The
firstwasmyMom.Shehungupthephonecakedinsweetness.Shelovesthewhole
thing.Sheisinawe.ShewasdevouredbyLoveandhadnostoryotherthan"Iloveyou
J".ThesecondcallwasKai'sMom.ShetoowasbathedinthedirectLightofourLove.
Shewastrulymovedandhappyforus.InbothcallsallIsharedwastheprocessof
givingourselvestotheUnknown.AndIspokeofyou-myFSW(FullyShiningWoman).
Youaremybeloved.YouaretheoneIhavewaitedformyentireLife.Youaremy
perfectmirror.Igivemyhearttoyou.Igiveyoumylife.IgiveyouallmyLOVE...
YourtitlehasgreatlyimprovedImustsay!Formeitwillalwaysbe:
J.MeghanMcChesney
AngelExtraordinaire
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IADOREYOU!!!!
J
________
IpickupthephonetocheckinwithShamanGuy.Thisday’sbeenawashforwork.
WedecidethatitmakessenseformetospendsometimewithAirManandcall–
gulp–myparents,soI’llspendthenightheretobeabletoworkinthemorning.
ShamanGuywillspendsomequalitytimewithKai.
Aswe’reabouttohangupthephone,ShamanGuyasks,“Hey,bytheway,whatdoes
the‘J’standforinyourname?Youremailsignaturesays‘J.MeghanMcChesney’.”
“Oh,Meghanisactuallymymiddlename.MyfirstnameisJennifer.ButI’vealways
beencalledMeghan.Myparentsthought‘JenniferMeghan’soundedbetterthan
‘MeghanJennifer.’Trustme,it’scausedalotofproblemsovertheyearsonofficial
documents.”
ShamanGuyissputtering,“You’rekiddingright?”Hisreactionisabitstrongerthan
I’musedtoaboutusingmymiddlename.Imeanit’snotcommontogobyyour
middlename,butit’scertainlynotthatweird.Afterall,politiciansfromPresident
(Stephen)GroverClevelandandJ.EdgarHoover(evenaPresident’swifeAnna
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EleanorRoosevelt),sportslegends(Ralph)DaleEarnhardtSr.andJr.,aswellas
celebritiessuchas(Dorothy)FayeDunawayandevenWilliamBradleyPittakaBrad
Pittdoit.I’minesteemedcompany.
“Isthataproblem?”Iinquire.Maybehe’supsetthatwe’reabouttogetmarriedand
hedidn’tknowmyrealfirstname?
“No,notaproblem.Ijustcan’tbelieveyourfirstnameisJennifer.”
Me,“Okkkkay.Why?”
ShamanGuylaunchesintoastorythatbringsgoosebumpstomyarms.Whenhe
wasachild,heandhismotherweremessingaroundwithanOuijaboard.Shaman
Guyaskedtheboard,“WhowillImarry?”Andtheboardspelledout,“J-E-N-N-I-F-ER.”
Atthetime,ShamanGuywasinfatuatedwithhiscousinJennifur,soheturnedbright
redanditbecameabigfamilyjokethathewouldgrowupandmarryhiscousin.As
ifthatwasn’tbizarreenough,hislastwife’snamewas–yep,Jennifer,sowhenthey
marriedhethoughthehadfinallyfound“theone”andfulfilledtheOuijaboard’s
prophesy.
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SeveralotheroftheOuija’spredictionsthatdayturnedouttobetrue,soShaman
Guyalwayshadanaggingsenseofdisappointmentwhenhislastmarriagefailed.“I
can’tbelieveI’mfinallymarryingtherightJennifer,”hesays.
“Yep,”Isaywithsatisfaction.“Youfinallygotitright.”WhatcanIsayfolks,myworld
canbeweird.
ButmybuoyantfeelingsarequicklybroughtdownasIhangupthephonewith
ShamanGuy.IamdreadingtalkingtoAirMan.I’mstillsensitivethatIcouldbe
causinghimpainandtheremnantsoftheGoodGirlprogramwanthimtostilllike
me.It’saskingalot,Iknow.ItrackdownAirManandamrelievedthathe’staking
oneofMio’steachingstoheart.Ifsomeoneleavesyou,theyaredoingyouafavor.Be
withsomeonewholovesyouforwhoyouare.Loveyourself.You’llfindtheperson
whowillloveyouforyoueventually.AirMan’sunderstandablysad,asamI,butalso
doingokay.Notthathenecessarilywantstobemybestfriendanytimesoon.
Wetalkthroughsomescenariosandagreeitmakessensetoseeifourlandlordwill
letAirManoutoftheleaseandputShamanGuyonitinstead.Webrainstormsome
optionsforwhereAirManmightgo.WonderifPinkwouldrentAirManherspare
bedroomforafewmonthsuntilhefiguresoutwhathewantstodo?AirManlights
upatthatpossibility.HelovesPinkandheespeciallyloveshercooking.He’llcheck
intoit.Whataboutthepingpongtable?Welaughandagreeit’sfittingthatitwould
comeandlivehere.I’llkeepourdogsinceshe’susedtolivinginouryardand
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AirMandoesn’tknowwherehe’llland.WehugitoutandI’mofftomakeonemore
phonecalloftheevening.TalkingwithAirManwentbetterthanIexpected,without
havingexpectations,ofcourse,somaybethisnextcallwilltoo.
MyhandsareshakingasIpickupthephonetocallWappyandBazer.Theyalready
thinkmylifeisabitkookyandIcanonlyimaginewhattheywillthinkofthisone.I
breakthenewstothem,editingoutthemorewoo-wooparts,andtheyseem
surprisinglyokay.MymomadmitsshehadbeensecretlyhopingthatAirManandI
wouldn’tgetmarriedsinceshecouldseethatweweren’tthebestmatchand
marriagewouldn’thelp.Bazergiveshisusualreplyof,“Hmmph.”Ablessingindeed.
ApparentlytheycanhearhowmuchIamglowingoverShamanGuyandultimately
theywantmetobehappy.
Ijustleaveoutonesmalldetail–thatweareplanningongettingmarried.Ifigure
there’stimetobreakthatnewslater.Letthemdigestthebreakup/gettogetherpart
first.Reallythough?I’mtoomuchofacowardtospitoutthefulltruthandlayitall
ontheline.Insomesmallrecessofmymind,I’mafraidtheywon’tloveorapprove
ofthischoice.Well,thatwillhavetobeaddressedanotherday.
IamwipedoutbutofcourseIcan’thelpcheckingmyemailbeforeIturnintobed
alone.IforwardthisonetoShamanGuy:
________
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J-
Howcoolaremyparents?Seebelow...
Bazer&Iarebehindyou&loveyou.Weknowyou'llmakeagood
decisiononwhat'srightandgoodforyou.We'llalwayssupportyou.We
maynotbethere"physically"butyouknowwe'retherewithyouinour
thoughtseachandeveryday.
SendingYouHugsandLoveMom&Ba
________
IwritebacktoWappy&Bazerthankingthemfortheire-card.
________
DearMom&Bazer,
Yourcardreallytouchedmyheart.Icouldnotaskforbetterparentsthanyoutwo.
WhileIamalittlesadthatthingsdidn'tworkoutwithAirMan,Itrulybelievethatit
forthebestforbothmeandhim.Iamalsosoexcitedaboutmyrelationshipwith
ShamanGuy.Heissuchagoodmanandhisheartremindsmeofyoursanddads.I
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reallyappreciateyoursupportintimeslikethese.IguessI'mjustcarryingonthe
"wappy"lineage.
Iloveyouboth!
P.S.Canyoukeepasecret?IthinkShamanGuymightbe"theone."
________
It’sbeenalongdayofmanningthephonesandI’mreadytokonkout.Thephone-athonisgoingtokickintorealactiontomorrow,nowthatallthepiecesarefalling
intoplacewithmymasterplan.
TenDaysLater…
OurplaneistaxiingtotakeoffandIreachoverandgiveShamanGuy’shanda
squeeze.Ourgrinsareepic.Ifeelmyselfrelax.Thepastweekandahalfhasleftme
panting.Ican’tbelievewedidit–orreallyfathomwhatisabouttocomenext.
Mymindreelsthroughthepasttendays.ImobilizedtheEwoktroopsandahordeof
eagerpackersdescendedonShamanGuy’shousetofinishingpacking.Iusedallmy
charmtoconvinceareluctantmovingcompanytomoveShamanGuy’sbelongings
30mileseasttoEscondidoinsteadof3000easttoMarbleheadwithoutpenalty.Our
landlordwasabitbaffledatourproposaltoswitchmenontheleasebutmusthave
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figuredrentmoneyisrentmoneysohewentalongwiththepuzzlingchange.
AirManmovedhisfewbelongingsouttoPink’sspareroom.Therewasn’tmuchto
dickerovergivenourdécorwasprimarilyIKEAorroadsidefinds.Kaiwasputonan
airplanetospendtimewithhismother,happythathe’dbecomingbackinafew
weekstohissameschool.ShamanGuymovedin,intherain.Iwasinheaven
watchinghimunloadinadownpour,hisAustralianoilskindustercoatkeepinghim
dryasheferriedboxesinside,whileIstayedinsidewarmanddryunpacking.
Thecoordinationcontinuedsmoothlyforourtrip.Gordawasbeingtakencareofby
friends.ShamanGuyandImadeaquicktriptoLAtoseeCarrot-topandQ-tipandto
pickoutweddingrings.ShamanGuywantedaNagualring,madebyJay-D.Itwasa
specialrushorderandbeinghanddeliveredtousviaQ-tipplayingcourier.Carrottopdirectsmetoanartsyboutiquewheresheboughtherweddingringyearsago
andIfindtheperfectonebythesamedesignerwithwhatlookslikeapyramidon
top.Q-tipthrowsinapairofbaggywhitepantsforShamanGuy(whybuy?How
oftenwillhewearwhitepantsafterthis?)andourweddingshoppinginLAisdone.
Bestofall,ShamanGuy’s$55Kdebtwascominginhandy.Wewereabletobooka
flighttoMexicowithitfor–FREE.Howmuchdidwelovethat?Itfeltlikeasignof
whatwastocome,turningwhatappearedtobe“bad”ora“problem”intoacreative
solutionthatsupportedouroutlandishdreams.
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Becauseweweremostcertainlylivingthedream.Wewereheadingsouth,to
Mexico.ShamanGuywasaddedtotherosterofteacherswhowereofferingapower
journeyalongsidemyselfinMarzipan-homeoftheoneandonlyPyramidofthe
Sun.We’dteachtogetherforaweek,haveafewdaysoff,andthenMioandmygroup
ofDreamerswereflyingdownforourgraduation.TwoweeksinMarzi!Whilewe
celebratedtheculminationofthethree-yearprogram,ShamanGuywouldhavea
weektohimselftoroamthepyramids.
Isighed.Amazed.Blessed.Contented.
Andthatwasn’tall.
Totopitalloff,wehadaskedMiotomarryusontopofthePyramidoftheSun,just
likeourvision.Miosaidyes,goingwiththewordofthemonth.We’dplayitbyear
onwhatdayofthetripfeltright.
Onceagain,IcaughtShamanGuystaringatme.“What?”Iaskinmockinnocence.
Heshakeshishead.“Youamazeme.Ican’tbelievethatIwasabouttomoveback
EasttoslugthroughpayingoffmydebtandnowhereIamonatwo-week,free
vacationtoMexico.”
“Stickwithmekid,”Isay.
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“Imostcertainlywill.”
Andwiththat,webothsatback,tightenedourseatbelts,andflewintothesunset.It
hadcertainlybeenawildrideandtherewasmoretocome.
WeddinginaDay
Whenitcomestospiritualtalents,ourEwokclanexcelsinmakingupagoodritual
inthefullsunlightofMarziandthenthrowabangin’celebrationthatnight(noreal
needforareason)totopitalloffandblowoffsomesteam.Ourweddingwasno
exception.Infact,whatcouldbemoreperfectthanacelebrationofadivineunion?
Ourgroup,30orsostrong,wasridinghighnotonlyinanticipationofour
graduationfromourintensethree-yearprogramofawareness,transformation,and
intent,butalsowitheagernesstoplanamake-shiftMexicanweddingonthe
groundsofoneofthemostsacredplacesinthewesternworld.Grantedtherewerea
fewthatfeltourweddingshouldnotupstageourrealpurposehere,butinmyto-beweddedbliss,Iconvenientlywasblindtoanydissention.
Ouramigosralliedandweredeterminedtodoitright–bacheloretteparty,wedding
dressshopping,flowers,cake,weddingphotos.Ifanyonecouldthrowtogethera
weddinginlessthanaweek,itwasourfolks.
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ShamanGuyandItrustedthatitwouldallcometogether,easilyandinperfecttime.
OurfirstweekinMarzi,however,wasabitonthebumpyside.Wesettledintowhat
wasdubbedthehoneymoonsuite,readytoteach!Shareoutlove!Explorehowmany
positionswecouldcoveronforeignsoil!
OnlyIseemedmostinterestedinbowingtotheporcelaingoddess.Inabizarredaily
ritual,Iwouldwakeup,feelwoozy,startcoughing,hurl(lovely),liedownforawhile,
dragmyselftobreakfastandforcedownalittlefood.Bythetimewewerereadyto
takethegrouptothepyramids,I’dfeelfineandfortherestoftheday,Iwasinmy
fullshiningglory.Addintheslightagitationthatinevitablyhappenswheneatinga
spicierthannormaldietandthetoiletandIbecameevenbetterfriends.
Whattheheckwaswrongwithme?ThiswasnotmyvisionofhowShamanGuyand
Iwouldshareourfirstromanticgetawaytogether,particularlypre-bigday.Imean,
really,Ididnotknowthisguyallthatwellyet.Stillwantingtomakeagood
impression.ShamanGuywasagoodsport,butstarteddevelopingatwitchevery
timeIcoughedinanticipationforwhatcamenext.Hehatedseeingmesick.I,
however,haveaweirdquirkofnotmindingemptyingmyestomago,becauseIknew
I’dfeelimmediatelybetter.Ididmind,ontheotherhand,thatmyhusband-to-be
hadtohear/seemeinsuchanun-ladylikeposition.DefinitelyNOTsexy.
AlthoughIwasfairlycertainIknewthecause–Iwashighlysensitivetoenergyand
beinginMarzicombinedwithbeingwithShamanGuywasadoublewallop–aftera
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fewdays,ShamanGuyandIbothstartedwonderingifsomethingmoreseriouswas
goingon.Morningsickness?Ruledthatoutwithaconsultwiththecalendar.Food
poisoning?Thatshouldpassin24-48hours.Flu?Onlycoughedinthemorning,no
fever,andfeltfineotherwise.Afteraconsultwithadoctoronourtrip,wedecided,
nope,justabadcaseofmuchoenergia.SoIwentwiththetheoryoflettingitmove
throughmybody,andtrustme,itdid.
Luckilythehoursspentonthepyramidsandworkingwithpeopleinourgroup,
meantthatbythetimewereturnedtoourroomforanafternoonsiesta,mostofthe
morningunpleasantnesshadbeenerasedfromShamanGuy’smind.Let’sjustsay
wedidperfectonemovethatwedubbedtheCrowHopandworkedonafewothers
toaddtoourdancerepertoire.
Theweekflewbyinalovelyblurofprofoundteachings,beamingparticipantsthat
baskedinourexuberantlovestory,tears(always,fromboththestudentsandusas
weletgoofwhatnolongerservedus),andhilariousnightsatthebar.Severalof
Mio’steachersallhadgroupsstayinginthehotelatthesametime,sowe’dget
togethertotradenotes,compareexperiences,andplaywaterpolointhepoolor
haveamealinthecoolshadeofthecabana.Theteachersteasedeachotherand
crackedupattheemergingstylesofeachgroup–MilitaryManhadhisgroupupat
thecrackofdawn,marchinginformationtothepyramids,whilesingingmilitary
marchingchants.Ourgroupwasknownasthelazylovebirdssincewewerecoteachingwithanothermarriedcouple–thelovelyLinda(useyourbestSpanish
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pronunciationLEEN-da)andJollyBear–andoftendidn’tgetstarteduntilthesane
hourof10amafterIhadperformedandrecoveredfrommymorningconstitutional.
Afterwishingourstudentsagentlere-entryintoaworldnotashuggyandkissyas
ourgroup’s,westartedourpreparationsinearnest.Weddingdressshopping!The
hotelarrangedadriver.Offwewentinourricketytaxi,barrelingdowndustydirt
andcobblestoneroadstothenearestsmalltown.
BetweentheLindaandmyself,ourSpanishwaspassablebuthowtoexplainthatI
wanteda“wedding”dressthatdidn’tresembleahorribleexplosionoflace?Ididn’t
wanttolooklikeoneofmystudentsataquincinera.Andwouldn’titjustbemore
funtosaythatLindawasmymother?SoLindatookontheroleof“mother”ofthe
bride-to-be,providingasoundingboard(withouttheusualmother-daughter
dynamic)andcriticaleye.WedecidedtolookforatraditionalMexican“peasant”
dress–hopefullysimpleandwhite.
Somehowinourrambling,andmostlikelyincoherent,descriptionweendedupata
Mexicancostumestoreandchachkesshop.Itspecializedin–andhere’sjustasmall
sampling-cheesygold-platedVirgendeGuadalupeplates,junkycarvedstones,
ponchos,cheapcowboyboots,anddressessoldforCincodeMayocelebrations.
Judgingbytheprices,theirclientelewasprimarilygringotourists.
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LindaandIsawnothingevenvaguelyintherunning,butdidn’twanttobeimpolite
andboltfromthestore,sowehadfuntryingonanabsolutelyhorrid,borderingon
fluorescentpinkdresswithdecorativegold,turquoise,green,yellowribbon(nope,
notdoneyet)toppedoffwithpuffyshouldersandsleeves,andruffleswithwhite
lace.Mystomachdidanotherflip-flop.
Timetomoveontosomethingmasauténtica,porfavor?Thenextshopwasn’tmuch
better,buttheownercaughtwindofwhatwewereshoppingforandinsistedwe
celebratewithashotoftequila.Si!Si!LindaandIelectedtomakeitaminibacheloretteparty.Ihardlyeverdrink(ShamanGuyclaimsIamthecheapestdate
ever)sooneshotwasallittooktogetmeabitloopy.Theownerinsistedonanother
roundandluckilyLindatookoverforme.
Weextractedourselvesfromourkindhostandfeelingwarmandflyinghighwentin
searchofanothershop.Maybesomewherewerethelocalswouldshop?Thetaxi
driveragreedwithareluctantsigh,insistingthatwewillneverfindwhatweare
lookingfor,thattouristsdon’twantwhatthepoorpeopleofMexicowear,butifwe
must…
Jackpot!Thirdtimethecharm!Assoonaswewalkedintotheshop,Iknewwehad
foundourspot.Racksofwhitecottondresseslinedthewalls.Whileprobablynot
whatmostmoderndayMexicans,peasantorotherwise,wouldgofor,theshopdid
haveexactlywhatIwaslookingfor.Hereitwasanditwasaone-of-a-kindnoless:a
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simplewhitedresswithablackembroideredflowerpattern.Loveit!LindaandI
giggle,tipsily,whenIsuggestmysequinedblackflip-flopswillmakeastunningpair
ofweddingshoes.WepickupawhiteMexicanshirtforShamanGuyandablack
linenbelt,justincase,sinceShamanGuyforgottopackoneandQ-tip’swhitepants
he’splanningonwearingarehugeandbaggy.Wouldn’tdoforhimtodroptrouon
hisweddingday.
Afterfendingofftheshopkeeper’sdemandsthatoneoftheotherwhitedresseswith
amoretraditionalmulti-colored(readgaudy)flowerpatternwouldbemore
conventionalandappropriate,wehoppedbackinthecab,stillslightlywoozy,tired,
andproudofouraccomplishment.Notbadforonedayofweddingdressshopping–
andIlovedthatbackandwhitedressthatIselectedwasaslighttwiston,anda
slightlydressierversionof,theonesoftenseenflutteringinthebreezeinthestalls
outsidethepyramids.
Determinedtofinishmakingalltheweddingarrangementsbeforewediveintothe
nextphaseofourgraduationtrip,wecomparenotesontheridehomeonwhatelse
needstobedone.Rings.Check.Well,almostacheck.Q-tipshouldbedelivering
ShamanGuy’swhenhearrived.Clothes.Check.Therearealwaysplentyofpeople
whobringcameras,sophotos,yes,check.Food?Flowers?
Backatthehotel,LindaandIheadtothemanager’soffice.BossLady’sfacelightsup
whenIpokemyheadintothebackoffice.Atotallovethatruledwithastrongfist,
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BossLadyandIhavespentmanyhoursonthephonearrangingMio’stripstothe
hotelinacomboofherbrokenEnglishandmybrokenSpanish.WhileBossLady
wasnottheGeneralManageroftheentirehotel,apositionthatbroughtpeoplewho
wouldcomeandgoasClubMedcirculatedthemamongproperties,BossLady
effectivelyranthehotel,providingconsistency,runninginterferencebetweenthe
GeneralManagerswhochangedwiththeseasonsandthelocalswhokeptitrunning.
Itwasnosecretwhowasreallyincharge.BossLadywaswillingtobendover
backwardstoaccommodateourgroup,whichaccountsforalargeamountofthe
hotel’sbusinessthroughouttheyear.Howcanshebeofservicetoday?
She’salreadyheardabout–andfussedover-thegreatlovebrewingbetween
ShamanGuyandI.Anychanceshecouldarrangeforaweddingcakefornextweek?
Absolutemente!Andmaybesomeflowers?BossLadytutsforaminuteortwo–no
flowersareallowedwithinthepyramidgrounds,butshe’llseewhatshecando.
Whatdaydowewantallthisarrangedfor?
LindaandIlookathersheepishly.YouknowMio,wesay.He’sknownforfrequently
makinglastminuteplans–andchangingthem–basedonhowtheenergyfeelseach
day.Ileanoverandconspiratoriallywhisper,“I’llbetit’llbethelastdaywhenwe
traditionallyendthetripontopofthePyramidoftheSun.”BossLadypatsmyhand
sympathetically,“Okay,okay.Wedookay.”Takingthattomean,thatitwillbothbe
okayandshe’lltakecareofit.LindaandIgiveeachotherabighug.We’vepretty
muchplannedaweddinginaday.
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OnTopoftheSun&OvertheMoon
Iamsoaring,literallyflyingatthespeedoflight.Irocketupfromthetopofthe
PyramidoftheSun.MotherEarthprovidestheboosterfuel,funnelsitupthrough
thepyramid,andliftsmehighabovemybody.ShamanGuyisatmyside.Weare
eagles.Wearelight.Wearesparksofenergy.
Wearemovinginalldirectionsatonce,insomanyforms.It’ssimultaneous,
indescribablyexplosive,andthereisnodoubtinwhatweareexperiencing.Ifeelus
spreadineverydirectionwithoutlosinganymomentum,massorintensity.Our
energyscreamsoverthemountains,outtowardtheoceans,uptowardthesky,all
directionsatonce.Every.Which.Way.
Andyetwearetakingoff,energeticeagles,makingahardlefttodartdownthe
AvenueoftheDead,wingsbeating,sidebyside.Iamtakinginthewindwithits
particularMarziscent,undermywings.IfeelShamanGuymatchingmyflight,wing
strokebystroke.IcanseeallofMarzispreadoutunderneathmeasweracethe
lengthoftheAvenue.Weneartheend,gracefullyswoopinginau-turnover
QuetzaquatlandretracingourpathbackuptheAvenue.Wezoomtowardthe
PyramidoftheMoon,anchoringthefarendoftheAvenue.Themassofstones
appearstobeglowing,warm,emanatingenergyfromdeepwithin.AsShamanEagle
GuyandIflyoverhead,theenergygentlyreachesupandenvelopesus,softly,
sweetly.Webankandturnonceagain,movingsouthwest,flytheshortdistanceto
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thePyramidoftheSun,aswooptoturnleftandwearebackaboveourwedding.
Here.There.Everywhere.
Wecircleabove.IseeShamanGuyandIstandingontopofthePyramid,dressedin
white.Mywhitepeasantdressbeautifullycontrastsmyblackhair.Carrot-topand
Gorgeous(aHollywoodsetdesignerwhennotaspiritualseeker)havecraftedan
angeliccrownofwhiteflowersthatringsmyhead.SomehowtheGeneralManager
ofthehotel,thisoneintospiritualityherself,hadbribedherwaythroughher
connectionstobringasackfullofexquisitewhitecalaliliesandbaby’sbreathtoour
ceremony.Abridalbouquet.MioisononesideofusandDosontheother.The
Dreamers,whohadgreetedmeatthetopinanenvelopingcircle,arenowhuddled
inclose,sittingnearourfeet.Eyesclosed,meditating,holdingthespace,
experiencingtheirownjourneysthroughtimeandspace.LindaandJollyBear,
actingasthe“mother”and“father”ofthebride,hadescortedmeupthepyramid’s
longstaircase,makingadramaticentrancetoourwedding“chapel.”Theyhad
deliveredmetoaproudShamanGuy,andarenowsittingbacktoback,anchoring
ourfeet.IseeTita.MilitaryMan.Babs.Q-tip.Lini.Theyareallhere.
Notatraceofthedoubtthatwrackedmethismorning.ShamanGuyhadpossessed
me,takenmeashis,assertedhismasculinityanditsentmeinatizzy.WhatwasI
gettinginto?HowwouldIfareinthefaceofthisstrongmasculinepresence?Our
interactionshookmetomycoreandstirredupthefearwithinme.IrantoPinkand
Lini’sroom,threwmyselfonthebed,andpouredoutmypre-weddingjitters.Maybe
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Ishouldcallthewholethingoff.Theytookonelookatme,andwithoutanounceof
sympathy,remindedmethatShamanGuywasjustwhatIaskedfor.Stopbeinga
baby.NowIfeeltheflipsideofbeingpossessedbymynagualman.Wehave
merged,freetofly.
Upinthesky,weshape-shiftintoahelicopter,filmingthescene.Soakingitin.The
camerasarejusttherightjauntyangle.Stirringmusicinthebackground.Thevision
atSwami’scometolife.Complete.
Theenergykicksupagain.Herewego.Idivebackintomybody,andyethavenever
leftit.Thistime,though,myawarenessisfocusedontheheatofShamanGuy’sbody
pressingintomine.Iamburningup,dissolving,melding,molding.Aspiralofenergy
serpentinesupouranklesfromwithinthePyramid,snakingthroughourcores,our
hearts,ourheads.IfeelShamanGuyraisehisarmandweshootupit,latchingontoa
rayofsunlight.Hisray.Myray.Intertwined.One.Inatightspiral,wetrackourway
tothesun.Mycrownchakraopens.Blackhairhot.Hisbreath.Hisscent.Iamhis.He
ismine.Thesunhasclaimedusboth.
Andyetthereismore.Beyondthesun.
Blackness.Darkness.Cool.Space.Infinitespace.Somestars?Blacklight.
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Istopbreathinganditisexquisite.Iletgo.Surrender.Forwhatfeelslikeeternity,
thereisnoair.Thereisnoneedtobreathe.AndthenYES.Ahugegulp.
Nothing.
Nowhere.
Noneeds.
Peace.Quiet.Stillness.YES.
Breathenow.That’sit.Mergemore.Overandoveragain.Thesensationsdefylove.
Defycompassion.Thereisnothinglefttounderstand.Ordo.Creation.Elation.One
sustainingbreath.Ahhhh.Floatingsomemore.
NowShamanGuyissmotheringmyfaceinkisses.Heisholdingmeup,asIamnotto
betrustedtostandonmyownfeet.Iamnowattunedtoadelicious,wide,butmore
localizedfeeling.MyenergyishoveringacrossthetopofthePyramidoftheSun.
Feelingthelovelywarmwindstirmyhair.Hearingthemurmurofpeople
surroundingourgroup.Takinginthecontentedsighsallaroundme.
IpullmyheadoutofShamanGuy’sneckandrestmyforeheadagainsthis.Itisdone.
Wehavemerged.Andmarried.
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Acontentedsmilepartsmylips.Icarefullysquintopenmyeyesandlookinto
ShamanGuy’s.AllIseeislight.Myeyesareradiatinganintensewhitelight.Thereis
thehazyyellowlightallaroundmeobscuringeverythingaroundme.Noother
people.Notime.Justlight.Iusemywilltofocus.There.ShamanGuy’sbluelightfilledeyes.Ilosemyselfinthisdreamforminutes,hours,eternities.
“Iloveyou.”ShamanGuywhispersinmyear.
“Iloveyoutoo,”Iprojectwithmyeyesandmymind.Iaminaword-lessspace.My
faceiswet.Joy.Saltytears.
ShamanGuyplacesabottleofwateronmylipsandIgulpitdownasifIhavenever
tastedanythingsopure,refreshing,andlife-affirmingbefore.I’mshaky.Butgetting
steadier.Icatchaglintcomingoffmyfingerandmarvelthatmyweddingring
somehowmadeitontomyhand.ShamanGuyholdsuphishandandwiggleshis
fingerstoshowmehis.Whendidthathappen?
Nomatter,IfeelmyconsciousnessbecomecrystalclearandcalmandIcantakein
myimmediatesurroundings.Dosisbeaming,immediatelybyourside.He’spatting
ShamanGuy’sback.“Si!Hermano!”heconsidersShamanGuyabrother.Ismileat
him,sogratefulandhappy.HeofficiatedatourweddingandyetIhaveno
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recollectionofawordhesaid.Nomatter,asalways,it’stheenergythatcounts.Mio
reachesoverandpullsmeintoatighthug.Hewhispersablessinginmyear.
NowI’mbeingpassedfromDreamertoDreamer,tighthugs,congratulations,
squeezes,smiles,tears,photoops.Ifeeltheangelwingsthathadspoutedoutmy
backbrushingagainstthecrowd.
Finally,Isitdown,wigglingintotheencirclingarmsofShamanGuy,whouseshis
bodytosupportmelikeachair-back.Mmmm.Irest.Humming.Buzzing.Bitsofmy
daycomeflashingback.ThePlaceoftheWomenwhereIwas“bathed”andblessed
bythewomen.Invitedtoleavemaidenhoodbehind.ThePalaceoftheButterflies.
Bright,clearenergy.Ajourneytoalltheothersacredplacesintheworld.Peru.
Egypt.Ireland.England.TheStates.ThePlaceoftheMasterswherewemergedinto
theelectricenergyofthatroom,thenLindaandIsnuckinwhentheguardsweren’t
lookingtochangeintomyweddingensemble,JollyBearonthelookoutoutside.The
trektothePyramidoftheSun.Atriptotheouterrealmsoftimeandspace.
Andnowhere,nestledinShamanGuy’sarms.Socontented.Sofulfilled.Soassured
ofwhatwewouldcreatetogether.Iamontopofthesunandoverthemooninlove.
FiestaTime
Lordonlyknowshowweclimbeddownthe248stairsfromthetopofthePyramid
oftheSuntoterrafirma.Vaguerecollectionsofstoppingandposingforcountless
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photosastouristsfromallovertheworldcongratulatedusonourhappyday.
Magically,andthankfully,weweretransportedbacktothehotelandnowitwas
timeforunafiesta.Agrandone.
ModerndayMioEwoksareknownforinvadingthebarattheClubMedatnight.
Combinetheabilitytofindnearlyanythingamusingwithalotofcreative,zany
peoplewhohavefriedtheirbrainsontoomuchenergyandsun,tossbackashotor
twoandyouhaveacrazygoodtime.Aftercomingtothehotelforyears,andbeing
greetedbystaffwithanimpeccablewillingnesstobeofservice,comingtoMarzifelt
morelikevisitingfamilythenstayingatabigchainhotel.WhenShamanGuyandI
enteredthebar/restaurantarea,weweregreetedbycheers,applause,andhugs,not
justfromourspiritualbrothersandsistersbutfromthecompadresonthestafftoo.
Thestaffhadfullyembracedbeingapartoftheweddingcelebrationsandhad
deckedoutthemaindiningroomwiththefestive,colorfulandintricatepapercutoutsthatareoftenstrungtogetheracrossstreetsofthenearbypueblos.Areal
honest-to-Godweddingcakewaslaidoutinthefrontoftheroom,completewitha
brideandgroomonthetop–thebrideinatraditional,long,whitegownandthe
groominahandsomeblacktux.Bothoriginallyhadjetblackhair,andoneofthe
waitershadthoughtfullysmearedadollopofwhiteicingonthegroom’sheadto
makehimlooklikemytow-headedShamanGuy.
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Ravenousfromtheday,ourgroupsatdowntoournightlyritualofpiggingoutfrom
thelargemenu.ShamanGuyandIsatwithLinda,JollyBear,Mio,andDos.Wecould
hardlygetabitebeforesomeonefromthegroupwouldcomeupandoffertheir
felicidadesortosharetheirrecollectionofthepowerfulceremonyontopoftheSun.
Everyonehadfelttheimpactofthetwoofuscomingtogether.
“Cake!Cake!Cake!”achantsoonrumbledthroughtheroom.
ShamanGuyandImakeourwaytothefronttocutthedreamywhiteconfection.We
hadbeendebatingonwhetherwewouldbecivilizedaboutfeedingeachotherlittle
piecesorifitwouldgetalittlewild.ShamanGuywasuncharacteristicallyvotingfor
genteel,hedidn’twanttomussuphispartyclothesorhairaftershoweringoffall
thedustygoooftheday.I,ontheotherhand,couldn’tpromisethattheimpinme
wouldbehaveherself.Plus,Ikeptteasinghim,I’monlygettingmarriedonceand
haveonetimetomashcakeinyourface.Sowithagleaminmyeye,westoodbackto
back,likecowboysabouttodrawguns,oncue,weturnedaround.
“Benice….”ShamanGuytriedtocajoleme.
“Oh,I’mverynice!”Irepliedinnocently,niceandneatlydroppingapieceofcake
intohismouth.Hedidthesamewarilyforme.
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ThenIreachedbehindmeandscoopedupanotherbigpieceandwenttotown
paintinghisfacetomatchhishair.
“Okay,youaskedforit!”ShamanGuywrestledapieceoutofmyhandsandreturned
thefavor.Thecrowdwentwildandweeruptedintosquealsoflaughter.
Aftereveryonewassufficientlysugar-highandwehadcleanedofftheicingfrom
eachother’sfaces,wemadeourwaytothebar.Trulybadkaraokewasunderway;
drinkswereflowing;thesaddlewasbeingtakingforaride.Inthefarroom,wouldbecomicsweretakingturnsentertainingthecrowd.
Asthenightflowedon,thewaitersloosenedtheirtiesandweretuggedontothe
dancefloor.AmockwarwaswagedbetweenthewaitstaffandtheEwokDJs
betweentraditionalMexicanmusicandAmericandancemusic.ShamanGuyandI
wereinourelement.Weboogiedandsalsa’danddiscoveredthatourbodiesfit
togetherjustaswellonthedancefloorastheydidinbed.Hespunmeandtwirled
measifwehadbeendancinginsyncourwholelives.
Theeveningsloweddownanotchwhenanenterprisingandmoresensiblesoul
finallytookcontrolandthestereocroonedslowerlovesongs.Andthen,inwhat
couldonlybecalleddivineperfection,RickyMartinsangout“She’sAllIEverHad”
andShamanGuyandIareinstantlytransportedbacktoSedona,whenwefirst
dancedtogetherafterShamanGuy’sfirst“mock”proposal.
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“Turnitup!Turnitup!”ShamanGuyinsisted.Wewereonceagaininourown
bubbleofheadylove.
“Insomestrangeway,IfeellikeyouandIweremarriedwhenwefirstdancedtothis
songinSedona.”ShamanGuywhispersinmyear,drawingmeextraclose.
Icontemplatethisforamoment.Yes,thatdoesfeeltrue,eventhoughIwasn’t
consciouslyawareofitatthetime.
Inod,andsigh,andsnuggleincloser.ShamanGuysingsintomyear,makingthe
songourown:
It'sthewayyoumakemefeel.
It'stheonlythingthat'sreal.
It'sthewayyouunderstand.
You’remylover,you’remyfriend.
Alwaystheromantic,hepullsslightlyawayintimewiththemusic:
AndwhenIlookintoyoureyesit'sthewayIfeelinside.
Withalittleflourishandawarbletomatchhisrenditiontothemelody,heendsthe
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songandourmiraculouslyperfectweddingday,dippingmeoverbackwardswith
thesewords:
LikethemanIam...You’reallIeverneed.
WhatmorecouldaShamanGirlaskfor?
ShamanSex
Well,perhapsthereisonemoredelicacythataShamanGirlcouldaskfor…
ShamanGuyandIheadbacktothe“honeymoon”suite.Wearebothexhaustedand
alsoweirdlyenergized.Heofcoursesweepsmeoffmyfeetandthrowsmeoverhis
shouldertocarrymeacrossthethreshold.Wecrackupashetriestoclosethedoor,
carryme,andnavigatedownthenarrowhallwaywithoutbonkingmyheadonany
wallsordoors.
Hethrowsmedownonthebedandpromptlypouncesontopofme.Thereisquitea
bitofshrieking(myapologiestotheroomsnexttoandbelowus).Hmmm…thisis
goingtogetloudandreallywehaven’tevengottenstartedyet.
Withoutgettingtoonasty(ShamanGuy–coveryourears!),I’vehadmyfairshareof
good,andevengreatsex.ButShamanSexreallyshouldn’tbeputinthesame
category.It’slikecomparingthemostdelectablemelt-n-yourmouthchocolate
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trufflewithadogbiscuit.Adogmightbewillingtodobackflipsforthecardboard
bonebutreallyhasnoideawhatit’smissingwiththetruffle-andquitefrankly,
can’tandneverwill,sinceyoudon’twanttokillyourpupbygivingitchocolate.So
mydeepestwishisthateachandeveryconsentingadulthaveaShamanSex
experienceatleastonceinalifetime.
BecauseOh.My.God.
ShamanSexissootherworldlynotbecauseofthesex–whichisincredibly(insert
otherfavoriteliketotallyawesomeadjectiveshere)amazing–butbecauseofthe
energetics.Iwillleavethemechanicaldetailsbetweenthesheets.Itrustifyouare
readingthisbook,thenyouareoldenoughtoknowabouttheteenytinyhole.That
ishowthenagualmanandthenagualwomanfellinloveafterall.
Afterthebelliesaretouching,thenthemergingbegins.Islipandslideintoaspace
thatstretchesinfinitelyinalldirections.Iamspinning,falling,gliding.Inolonger
knowwhereisup,down,orwhat’sallaround.I’mnotevensureifIamstillonabed
orfloating.IhavenoideawhereShamanGuy’sbody(orotherwise)beginsorends.I
expandandflutter.Imoanandsigh.
Mybodyislikearagdollthatcanbeflippedorfloppedanywhichway.Iam
completelyopenandvulnerableandpresentandlost.Myenergy,myheartseeks
outhis.WecollideindeepspaceandIamconsumed.Isurrender,letgo.Alltheairis
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vacuumedoutofmylungs.Suspended.Notbreathing.Backonthetopofthe
PyramidoftheSun.
Therearenowords.Mysoulisobliteratedintohis.Explosions.Quiethummings.
Nothingnessandeverythingness.Lightanddark.Intensepleasureorintensepain.It
nolongermatters.Icareenintolaughterandthensobtearsthatspringfromthe
depthsofmybeing.Iamwetandspentandfullycontent.
Ahhh…Ahhh…Ahhhhhh…Yes.Iamgoingtohavetogothere.I’llbebraveenoughto
admitit.Ihavebeenpossessed.Fully,deeply,madly.I’mnotreferringto
extraterrestrials,spiritsordemonsenteringmybody.Noneedtocallinanexorcist.
Althoughfromallthethrashingaroundwedo,itmightappearthatwayfromthe
outside.
SoIamissuingafairwarntoallfeminists-youmightshudderatwhatI’maboutto
reveal(andpleasedearGodletWappyandher70sfeministglorybeskippingthis
chapterformorereasonsthanone…orBazer!No,no.NoBazer.).Hadsomeonesat
medownandexplainedpossessionasaconceptbeforeIexperiencedit,Iwould
havelookedatyoulikeyouhadtwoheads.AndIwouldhaveshudderviolently.
NowIshudder,butwithgreatsatisfactionandpleasure.Letmeexplain.
TheverypinnacleofShamanSexhappenswhenaShamanGuypossesseshis
ShamanGirlandtheShamanGirlsurrenderstohim.Withhisenergyandintent,and
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assistedbyhistrustymagicwand,heclaimshisShamanGirlashis.Youaremine.
TheShamanGirlsurrenders,allowshimtoclaimher.Yes,Iamyours.Andyouare
mine.Itisabeautifuldancewhenithappens.
Andletmetellyou,ittakesastrongwomantobewillingtosurrendertoherman.
Becauseinthesurrender,youstillholdyourcenter.Youstillknowwhoyouare,
fullyandcompletely,andyouarewillingtoalsoletanotherbeingtouchthecoreof
yoursoul.Likewise,ittakesastrongmantopossessawoman.Hemustbeclearand
confidentwithinhimselfwithoutabusinghispower.Heneedstobeabletolaunch
heroffintodeepspace,takeheronanintergalactictour,whilestillkeepinghis
energeticfeetsecurelyattachedtotheground.Ohyessir-ee,Iwillbeneedingsome
grounding,prettyplease,toaccomplishthisenergeticacrobaticfeat.
ItrustShamanGuytoleadmetothisplace,withinmyself,withinthelimitless
confinesofourenergiescomingtogether.Heexpandsanddelightsinbeing
entrustedbymeandsohecanrelaxintomyboundlessenergyandlove.
Afterafewmorelapsaroundthesolarsystem,wefloatbackontothemattress.
Armsandlegsareintertwinedatlogic-defyingangles.Ourbedhasbecomeabear’s
den.
Wewillrepeatthisritual–often,untilweknockourselvesoutsillyandcanbarely
function.Overthecomingdays,months,years,therewillbetimeswhenwejourney
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totheneverregionsofthegalaxycountlesstimesaday.Sometimesit’sweeks
beforewedaregoexploringagain.Becauseweknowitwilltakemehours,ifnot
days,tore-assemblemyselfintocoherency.
ThefinalsecrettoShamanSex?It’sreallythesecrettoagoodromanticrelationship,
I’llhaveyouknow.It’sonepartner’sjobtoremainjuicy;theothertoremainhard.*
Nowtherearemanypermutationsaboutwhoplaysthejuicyroleandwhogoes
hard.Forus,ShamanGuyplaysonthehardteam.Iamontheall-starjuicysquad.
(Maybesomeofyoucanfigureouthowtomakeitworktheotherwayaround,but
hasneverhappenedthatwayforus.Sothereyougo.)
WhenShamanGuyishard,focused,confidentofhisvisionofourrelationshipand
ourfamilythenweexperiencesexualchemistry,financialabundance,andlogicdefyingserendipity.WhenIstayjuicy,thenIaminthefeminine,creative,fulloflife,
remindingShamanGuyofthepleasuresofbeingintheworld.Westayintheflow,
challengesdissolveeffortlessly,ourdream,life,home,andrelationshipislovingand
yummy.Thedynamictensionbetweenthemasculine-feminine,juicy-hardisthe
rocketfuelthatpropelsourlife.Fromthisspace,wecancreateanything.
Fornow,wedriftoffintoablissfulsleep,spooningourwaythroughthenight.He
rolls,Iroll.Alegthrownoverathigh,feetcurledaroundanankle.Ourbodiescannot
getenoughofeachother,orfeelcloseenough.Wedreamourwaythroughthenight,
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nestledin,secureinthegreatlovethatwehaveforourselves,foreachother,andfor
life.
*ManythankstoDavidDeida’steachingsforsparkingabetterunderstandingofthisdynamic.
TheHoneymoonIsOver&theMeltdownBegins
WefindourselvesbackinEscondido,nestingintomychateau,nowournewhome.
Ourheadsarestillspinningfromthewhirlwindofromance,travel,andnegotiating
newrelationshipsandroles.Wearegettingtoknoweachotherandsometimesour
lackofknowledgeresultsingreathilarity.
Takeforinstance,thedayIcallmycreditcardcompanytoaddShamanGuytomy
account.WearedrivingandShamanGuycanoverhearmyconversationwiththe
representative.Myendgoeslikethis,“Hi,IjustgotmarriedandI’dliketoaddmy
husbandtomyaccount….Thanks!HisnameisShamanGuyGilroy.Hisdateofbirth…
Honey,yourdateofbirthisMarch26,nineteen-fifty….HisdateofbirthisMarch26,
1952.Socialsecuritynumber?Letmecheck…Ok,gotitforyou.Hismiddlename?”
Silence.Idon’tknowhismiddlename.Imeangivemeabreak,I’veonlybeenwith
theguyforafewweeks.Iquicklycover,“Couldyouholdonforasecond?”
IturntoShamanGuy.I’mtryingnottocrackupsothereponthephonewilltakeme
seriously.IwhispertoShamanGuy,“What’syourmiddlename?”
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ShamanGuylooksatmeaskew.Idon’tthinkwe’veevertalkedmiddlenames,other
thantherevelationaboutmine.Hewaitsalongminute.“Comeon!”Iwhisper.He’s
purposelymakingmesquirm.“It’sBrewster,”hewhispersbackinmockhorror.
Ireturntothecalltriumphant.Iconfidentlytellthem,“Sorry.Ok,I’mback.It’s
Brucester…B-R-U-C-…Holdonagain…What?”IaskturningtoShamanGuy.
ShamanGuyishorrifiedandisfranticallyindicatingthatIstop.Hismiddlenameisa
familyname.ApparentlyitisB-R-E-W-S-T-E-R,notBrucester.AndhereIwas
thinkingitwassosweetthatImarriedaguywiththemiddlenameofBrucewho
hadthe“-ster”endingthathailedbacktobeingsomeonewelikedinhighschool.
Ireturntothecall.“Ummm.IguessIgotthatwrong.Hismiddlenameisactually
speltB-R-E-W-S-T-E-R.”
Nowit’stherep’sturntopause,“Youdon’tknowyourhusband’smiddlename?”she
asks.
Ilamelyoffer,“Wejustgotmarried”aswayofexplanation.Therepthankfully
movesonandforthenewfewweeksShamanGuywalkaroundshoutingout,“Hey
Bruuuu—ccccc—STER!”likesomedorksforhighschool.Hey,whatcanIsay?
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There’sonlysomuchyoucanknowaboutaguy,evenifyouaremarriedtohim,ina
fewweeks.
Ourgettingtoknoweachothercoversalotofground.Yes,thereareidyllicdaysof
loungingoutonthedeckofourbedroombalconyinthebuff,protectedfromthesun
byamakeshiftsheetandfrompryingeyesbythetallwallsofourvilla.Lazy,yummy,
good.
ButthenthereisalsothefactthatIappeartohavegonecrazy.
Icandealwiththemanyopinionsfromfriendsandfamily(andcreditcardreps)
thatIhavelostitingettingmarried,what?-withaastonishinglyshort
“engagement”afterjustbreakingupwithAirMan,ontopofapyramidnoless,
surroundedbymy“cult.”Fairenough.WhatI’mhavingahardertimereconcilingis
thatIamcompletelyemotionalandunhinged.
Icanswingfromhystericallaughtertohystericalsobbinginamatterofseconds.For
noreason.Igofromsweetandsoftandlovelytoballisticandiratewhenthewind
changesdirections.Igetpissedfornoapparentreason.Iamprettymucharaving
lunatic.
TheworstpartisthatIfeelthatthere’snothingIcandoaboutit.I’vebecomean
irrationalwoman.Thehystericalwife.Whoisthisperson?It’ssomuchworsethan
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whenMexicanManandIbrokeup.AtleastthenIhadavalidexcuse–abroken
heart.Butnow,IamwithmydreammanandlifeisgoodandIamhappy–andhere
wegoagain.
ShamanGuyhasabsolutelynoideawhattomakeofthis.I’msurehethoughthewas
marryingthedreamgoddessofthecenturywhomorphedovernightintoMedusa.
Hevaliantlytriesreasoningwithme,walkingmethroughstep-by-stepwhatjust
happened.Thisonlymakesmemadder.Nothinghappened!Hetriesoffering
solutionstofixit.Thatonlyaddsfueltothefire.Hetriesignoringmeandthatonly
sendsmeintoafurtherfrenzy.I’msurehespenttimepraying,beggingGodtogive
himhisfun,playfulShamanGirlback.
Finally,aseveryguyinstinctivelydoeswhenconfrontedwitharavingmaniac,he
runs.I’llgetworkedupandhe’llsuddenlyrememberthatthedogneedstobe
walked–atmidnight.He’lltakeofftogobuyagallonofmilk,eventhoughnoneofus
drinkthestuff.Theworstnight,hefindsmeinthebathtub,blubbering.
“What’swrong?”heasks,tenderly.
“Idon’tknow!”Iwail.
“WhatcanIdo?”Hesincerelywantstohelp.
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“Idon’tknow!!”Isob,annoyed.
“CanIgetyouanything?”
“NO!!!!Justleavemealone!”Icry.
AndShamanGuyacquiesces,walksoutofthebathroom,andIhearhistruckstart
up.
Thissendsmeovertheedge.He’sabandoningme.Whycan’thehelpme?Whyishe
leavingme?Whydidhegoaway?WhydidItellhimtogo?
Icompletelydissolveintothesharppain.TheemotionI’vebeenfeelingoverthe
pastfewweeksissobigandsobeyondanythingI’veexperiencedbeforethatit
scaresthebejesusoutofme.Idon’tlikewhoI’vebecome,butitfeelscompletelyout
ofmycontrol.Isobandsob.Thewaterlevelinthetubactuallyriseswithmytears.
Idomybesttobreathe,justfeelthesensations.Afterall,I’vesentyearsinadream
chairpracticingthesetechniques.ButIcan’thangon.I’monthiswild,psychoride.
Eventually,Iwearmyselfoutfromsheerexhaustion.
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Hourslater,ShamanGuyreturnstofindmestillinthetub.Calmer,butstillhiccup
sobbingandslightlyshaking.Hedoeswhatanysane,reasonablepersonwould.Gets
meoutofthenowcoldtub.
“Comeonnow.Comehere,”hecommands,holdingopenatowel.Hewrapsmeup
andstartsdryingmeofflikeyouwouldasmallchild,thenleadsmetothebed.We
bothlaydown.
“Comeonnow.Comehere,”hecommandsagainandopenshisarmswide.Isnuggle
inandforthefirsttimeinweeksfeelsafeandsecure.
“ComeonMegsy.Uphere,”herollsoveronhisbackandIclimbontopofhim.“Chest
time,”hesays.
Ilaymyheaddownonhischestandrelax.Ifeelhisenergyenvelopme.Mystomach
unclenchesandmybellysoftens.Myenergyfinallyfeelsgrounded.Iamtetheredto
thegroundthroughhim.
SuddenlyIamakite,flutteringinthebreeze.Iwhoopanddanceandplaycatand
mousewiththewind.Iamfree.Thisisfun!AndIlookdown,down,downthelong
stringthatissecurelyattachedtoShamanGuy,whosefeetareplantedontheEarth.
Thereisarippleofenergythatpassesbetweenus.Ifunnelthewind,thesky,the
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sun,thecloudstowardmymanandhestandsstrongconnectedtotheenergyofthe
Earth.
IfallasleeponShamanGuy’schest,dreamingofkitetailsswoopinganddiving.That
nightmyenergyshifts.Asoftenhappensinthedeadofnight,Ifeelaresolution,a
knowing.Ihearatinyquietvoiceinsidesay,“Helovesyou.Helovesyoudeeplyand
unconditionally.Youcanstopthrowingtantrumsnow.Youdon’tneedtokeep
testinghim.”Andanotherpartofmeoffersupabigchuckle.“Oh!Sothat’swhatyou
weredoing!Youwantedtoseeifhe’dloveyouevenlikethis!Well,yousureshowed
himtheworstandhesurehunginthere.It’sokay.Helovesyou.Helovesallofyou.
Nowstopit.”
IawakenandIamnolongercrazy.Iamfullofbigemotion,yes,butinawaythatis
nolongerscaryoroutofcontrol.ItfeelsasifIhavepassedthroughaportalfrom
maidentomaturefemininewomanhood.
Yearslater,ShamanGuyandIoftendoastand-uproutinewhenweareteaching
consciousrelationshipworkshops,re-enactingmyhugelyemotionaldays.Itgoes
somethinglikethis.
ShamanGuy:“Formanyyears,Ididn’tknowhowtodealwithwomenandtheir
emotion.They’dgetemotional,I’dgetscaredandconfusedandI’dwanttogetasfar
awayaspossible.Rightguys?”
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(Cuealltheguysnoddingandallthewomenintheroomeitherpunchingtheir
partner’sshouldersorsendingknowinglookstoeachother.)
Me(playingthecryingVannaWhitetodemonstrate):Boo-hoohooo.Waaaaaahhhh!
Sniffsniff.
ShamanGuy:I’dtrytofixher.(Turningtome)Honeywhydon’tyoujust….
Me(drowningouthiswords):Waaahhhh!!
ShamanGuy:I’dignoreher(turninghisbacktome).
Me(louder):Wahhhh!!!
ShamanGuy:AndI’dalwaysrememberanerrandthatdesperatelyneededtaking
careof.Byehoney!
Me(loudestofall):Wahhhh!!
ShamanGuy:ThenIfinallydiscovered,thesimplest,easiestsolution.Todonothing.
Justgiveherahug.(ShamanGuywalksovertometoembraceme.)
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Me(tryingtopushhimaway):No!Goaway!
(ShamanGuygentlypullingmeincloserasIstrugglelessandless.Icalmdowna
bit.)
ShamanGuydramaticallyputshisfingertohislipsandwhispersShhh!tothe
audienceandpretendstoziphislips.Iofcoursemeltandsurrender,finallycalm.
Thentheroombreaksintolaughter.
ShamanGuy:Andthatfolks,ishowtoembraceawoman’semotions.
Webothtakeabowtothesoundsofapplause.Fromhereonout,weareona
permanenthoneymooncomparedtowhatwewentthroughduringthosefirstfew
weeksofholymatrimony.
LegalSchmegal
IamnominallymoresaneandlessemotionalafterShamanGuyandIfigureoutthe
energeticdynamicbetweenthetwoofus.Andyetthereisstillagooddealof
internalchurninginsideofmesinceIhaveineffectrunoffwithShamanGuyinto
theMexicansunsetandhaveyettotellmyparents.Fine.Fine.Iadmitit.Weeloped.
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Onlydidwe?FromwhereShamanGuyandIsit,wearemarried.Wholly,completely.
Toeternityandback.Beingmarriedspirituallyisallthatmatterstous.It’sa
marriageoftheheartandsoul.
Butapparentlywearenotmarriedintheeyesofthelaw.Havingneverbeen
marriedbeforeandhavingneverbeenmuchinterestedinbeingmarriedbefore,I
amabitnaïveaboutthedifferencebetweengettingmarriedinachurch,synagogue,
orontopofa,let’ssay,pyramid,versusfilingamarriagelicenseforalegal,statesanctionedandrecognizedunion.Can’tsayIeverevenknewthatyouhadtobea
state-approvedmarry-erinordertolegallyperformtheceremony.Iguessnotevery
Tom,Dick,orHarriettacantietheknotforyou.AndalthoughMiohasmarried
plentyofcouplesbefore,heofcoursehasneverfilledoutanythingassillyand
bureaucraticasthesomepaperwork.Hmmm.
I,ofcourse,amavoidingthewholeconversationwithmyparentalunitsbecauseI
haveastinkin’suspicionthattheyarenotgoingtoapprove.AlthoughIdonotfully
admitittomyself,Ifearthattheywillnotonlydisapprovebuttheywillalsono
longerloveme.Maybetheywillevendisownme.Notthattheyarethedisowning
type,butIamstillalittlescarredfromTheIntervention.
ThenShamanGuyandIhaveabrilliantidea.Whynotgetmarriedagain?Thistime
withfriendsandfamily.We’llhavea“real,”althoughslightlyunconventional
weddinginSanDiego.Wecantakecareofthelegalpaperworkthistimeandgiveall
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theEwoks,parents,andotherfriendsandfamilywhodidnotscalethepyramidwith
usthechancetocelebrate.Brilliant!ShamanGuylovesweddings!AndIlove
planningparties.Highfive!
Weconsultthecalendar.Mybirthdayisapproaching(May29thforanyonewho
wouldliketojoininthecelebrations).Andmyparent’sanniversaryisMay31st.
(TherewasarunningjokeinourfamilythatIwasborn2daysbeforemyparents
gotmarried…withoutmentioningthe3yearsinbetween.)MemorialDayweekend
hasalwaysbeenabigdealinourfamilysowhynotmakeitatrifectaandwedgeour
anniversaryinthemiddle?May30thitis.(OfcourseforyearstocomeShamanGuy
cannotrememberifmybirthdayisthe30thorouranniversaryisthe29th.
FortunatelyIamlowmaintenanceenoughnottocare.)
IcallWappyandBazertoannouncethegoodnews.Iskirtaroundthefactthatwe’ve
alreadygottenmarriedinMexico.WappyandBazermightseethemselvesas
liberals,butdeepdowntheyhavesomegoodold-fashionedconservativebeliefs
lurkinginthem.Ireasonwithmyselfthatsincetheywouldn’tconsideraspiritual
marriageamarriageanyway,whytellthem?ThenIcanalsosavemyselffrom
feelingtheirdisapproval.
Thereisonlyonesmallglitchinthisplan.Ormaybetwo.Okay,maybemore.Wappy
isveryintuitivesosheofcoursecansensethatsomething’sup.There’salsothefact
thatwearegettingmarriedthreemonthsafterwegottogether–notexactlyalong
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engagementintheireyeseither(butbetterthanafewweeks.RightMa?)Andthenif
youwerebeingnit-picky,youcouldarguethatweareahhh,well,lyingtothem
aboutthebeginningofourrelationship,thepartthatismostsacredandimportant
tous,andthiswillsetupacertainsuspicionthatwilllingerforyearstocome.Ah,
thegiftofhindsight.
Needlesstosay,wegetalukewarmcongratulations.ButWappyisasuckerfor
planningapartyandweeventuallygetintotheexcitementofplanningawedding.
(Bazerofcoursemaintainshis“humph”selfthroughout.)Weneedtodothisonthe
cheap.WappyandBazerkickinwhattheycan.ShamanGuyandIhavenextto
nothing.AndIthinkit’sridiculousthatpeoplespendadownpaymentonahousefor
apartythatlastsforaday.(Ifyouareoneofthosepeople,sorry,justmyopinion.)
Idiscoverthatyoucanrentoutthe“WeddingBowl,”astunningbluff,ontopofa
cliff,overlookingthePacificOceaninhoity-toityLaJollaforabouta$100.Itbrings
ShamanGuybacktoourvisiononthecliffsafewmilesnorthinEncinitasanditfits
ourbudget.Afewrentedchairsandwehaveastunninglocation.
AsoneofthefoundersofTransformU,wehavetheperfectplaceforareception–
bigopenspaceupstairsfordancingandsmallerroomdownstairsforfood,whichwe
decidetohave“catered”byalocalupscalefastfoodchainLaSalsaFresh.Very
upscale,Iknow,andit’sanodtoourMexicanweddingonthesly.
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Talentedfriendsoffertheirservicesasweddinggifts,sowehaveaDJ,a
photographer,avideographer,andahair/makeup/flowerarrangingartiste.Friends
offertosing,toplaythewoodenflute.Invitesgoout.Weaskpeopleto“buy”an
experienceforourhoneymoonbydonatingfundsinlieuofstore-boughtgifts.(Not
muchofashopper,Ican’tbeartheideaofcreatingabridalregistryandbesideswe
alreadyhavetwohousesworthofstuff.)AtuxisrentedforShamanGuy.
Wepickfriendstobebridesmaidsandgrooms:Pinkandmybrother,LiniandDos,
SuaveandTita,MulaBondaYogiandhisgirlfriend,Radiant.Notwantingtoburden
mybridesmaidswithahorridbridesmaiddressthattheywillneverwearagain,we
pickblackastheweddingpartycolor.Alltheladieshavelittleblackdressesandall
themencanfindapairofblacktrousersandshirt.Wefindmatchingblackshirts
withcoolblueflamesforKaiandhisbestbudBeavis,whowillactasthering
bearers.It’sallfallingintoplace.
Nextup?Anofficialofficiant.Sincethistimeourweddingwillbelegalschmegal,we
needsomeonewhoisqualifiedintheeyesofthelawtoperformtheceremony.
NeitherShamanGuynorIarereligiousandwewantsomeonewhowill“getus,”
whilenotcompletelyfreakingoutourmoretraditionalguests.IrememberthatNaj,
agoodfriendandcolleaguefrommyInner-CityArtsdaysisalsoaministerandwith
hertheaterbackgroundwouldbeperfecttohelpstageourevent.
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Najisoverjoyedtohearmygoodnewsandisdefinitelyupforrunningour
ceremony,butshealsotakesherroleofkickingoffourmarriedlifeseriouslysoshe
wantstohavesomepre-weddingmeetingstomakesurewearepreparedtotiethe
knotandtogetafeelforhowshecancustomizeourceremony.ShamanGuyheadup
toLAwhereshelives.Andsuspicionsordoubtsshehadisimmediatelyerasedwhen
weshareourvisionofourlove.Wemightnothaveironedoutthedetailsonchildrearing,financialplanning,orhouseholdroles,butwemakeupforitinsheer
enthusiasmandmagnetism.
Najthoroughlyinterviewsusabouteachother,ourvows,andtheceremony.While
wehavegoodintentionsforourweddingtobepalatabletoourfamilies,wecannot
helpcreatingaratheruniqueandspiritualceremony.Afterall,wearetwoshamans
gettinghitched.WebidNajadieuandcontinuedownourweddingpreplist.
Wappyfliesouttogodressshopping.IhaveitinmyheadthatIdonotwanta
traditionalwhitedress.Andhavingneverbeenagirly-girlwhodreamtawhite
wedding,Idonotwanttobefussedoveratabridalstore.Nope,notme.Idecideit
wouldbesupremelycooltofindmyweddingdressinoneofthehipsecond-hand
shopsthathavesprunguparoundthehappeningHillcrestareaofSanDiego.I
reasonthatitwillbemuchcheaperaswell.
Pinkishorrified.Assomeonewhoisslightlygerm-a-phobic,shebelievesinonly
placingnice,newpackagedclothingagainsthersensitiveskin.Wappyishumoring
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me.Liniisupforthehunt.Themostfashionableofallofus,she’sabletofindadeal
andmakeitlooklikeamillionbucks.
Offwego.Wehitonestoreafteranother.Thereisnothing.AndImeannothingthat
couldevenvaguelyqualifyasaweddingdress,evenanunconventionalone.
(Surprise,surprise.)Evenwhenwedofindonecontender(inmyeyes),itisnotmy
sizeandsecond-handstoresdon’texactlyhavemultiplesizesforoneofakind
discards.Everyoneisfeelingdiscouragedandgettingalittletiredofthiswildgoose
chase.
Aftersomehuddledwhisperinginthecorner,Pinkstepsuptotheplate.Couldn’twe
atleastgotoDavid’sBridalsandseeifthereisanythingthatwouldwork?Ifwe
don’tfindanythingthere,wecouldkeeplookingatothersecond-handstores.
Please?Iresistforafewminutesbeforeseeingthewisdominthissuggestion.We
fueluponsomefoodandIbracemyselfforthebridalstore.
PinkandLinidotheirbesttoruninterferencewiththesalesladies.Theyknowit’sa
stretchformetobehereandapushysalesladycouldsetmeovertheedge.Iwonder
aroundandreluctantlypickoutafewinthereasonable(under$800preferably
less)pricerange.
Iissuestrictorders.Nothingfancy.Nothingfrou-frou.Nofrillylaceorruffles.Pink
andLinibringinmoreoptions.Theyknowmewellandfindasimple,strapless
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bodice,withmoremoderneyeletlace.Thebottomiswhitetulle.I’mhesitant,but
aftertheircajoling,Istepintothedressandmyfaceandeyeslightup.Ilooklikea
princess,thekindthatIcandealwithbeing.Squealsallaround.Wehavefounda
winner.Pink,whoisawhizatsewing,bravelyofferstodothealterationstosavea
bitmore.IsheepishlythankPink,Lini,andWappyfortheordealIhaveputthem
through.
Forthenextweekorso,ourplanshumalong.RSVPsarereturned.Dozensand
dozensofCookies-by-My-Gramarriveviamail.ShamanGuycan’tbelievehowmany
cookieswehave.HeisunfamiliarwiththePittsburghtraditionofhavinga
homemadecookietable.Wehave6-8timesmorecookiesthanwedoinvitedguests.
Iassurehimthatallthecookieswillgeteaten.Theyalwaysdo.Andsincewearenot
havingpartyfavorbagsanditiscommonforthegueststotakehomeplatesof
cookies,wewillbefine.
I’mabouttoputthecookiesinthefreezer,whenIhaveabrainstorm.Tryone,you’ll
see.Youcan’teatjustafew.ShamanGuyandKaieachgrabachocolatecrinkleand
theyaredonein.Theywantmore.Lotsmore.Iprotestandracetheboxtothe
freezer,butit’stoolate.Ihavecreatedcookiemonstersandthebox,whichtakes
literallyanhourtounsealgiventheamountofSaranwrap,packingtape,andyes,
individuallywrappedcookiesthatGramusestoensuresafeshipping,hasnowbeen
penetrated.Cookiesgetsmuggledouttheholeandlittlefingerspryopenthenext
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boxsoGramhastosendatleastanotherfewbatcheswithWappyandBazer.IfI
hadn’tbeeninbefore,Ihavenowofficiallyfoundthewaytomymen’shearts.
Allseemstobegoingsowellinplanningourlegalaffair.Andthenwehitamajor
speedbump.
OnProbation
Inordertomakeourlegalschmegalwedding,well,legal,weneedamarriage
license.Weenterthebizarre,bizarreworldofweddingbureaucracy.Afterquitea
bitofresearchandmakingadozenpleasehold,letmetransferyou,justaminute
whileIcheckphonecalls,Ifinallyfigureoutwhichoneofthenon-descript
governmentofficesneartheairportweneedtovisit,duringwhichappropriate
hours,inordertoapplyfortheweddinglicense.Weassembleourreamof
documentstoprovewhoweare.
ShamanGuyandIjokeaswedrivedownthatit’sironicthatyoudon’tneedalicense
tohaveakid,butyoudotogetmarried,drive,orhaveadog.Igrouseabouthowit’s
awayforthestatetomakesomemoneyandmakelifealittlemorecomplicated.
Wearriveatthebuilding,atthesaidhour,gothroughmetaldetectors(really?),and
getabitlostwanderingthroughthemazeofgovernmentalaffairs.Theclerkswho
issuethelicensearequitesweet.Theyeventakeapictureofusfillingouttheforms.
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Whilewewaittohaveourlicenseprocessed,wenoticeanalcovenexttothewarden
ofdesks,whereajusticeofthepeaceismarryingcouples.Onecoupleisinstreet
clothes.Theyareinandoutinminutesandhardlykiss.Thereisaweepingbrideina
weddingdresssurroundingbyalargecontingentarguingwithherloudlyinespanol,
whilethegroomleansagainstthewallforgottenandanxioustogetitoverwith.
Itakeitallin.Thepilesofpaperworkonthedesks.Theunhappyweddingsbefore
oureyes.Thepeelingindustrialblueandgreypaintonthewalls.Myheartsinks.
Thisissuchacontrasttothealive,pulsingenergyofourwedding.Whyarewedoing
this?Icanfindnotoneounceofanythingmagical,special,inspiring,spiritual,or
evenhopefulwithinthisroom.
Theclerkslidesapieceofpaperacrosstous.“Congratulations!”shechirps.“Youare
allset!”Howmanytimesadaydoessheutterthesewords?
Ilookatthepaperandfeellikeourwholeupcomingweddingisasham.Howdoesa
pieceofpapermakeusmarried?Whydoweneedsomeabstractentitycalledthe
GreatStateofCaliforniatotellusthatwearemarried?Where’sthelove?Howdoes
thisaddmeaning?Willbeinglegallymarriedchangeourrelationship?Addtoit?
Makeitanylesslikelythatwewillbecomeastatisticfordivorce?
Iamveryquietonthedrivehomeandforthenextfewdays.Ilookatmydress
hangingintheclosetandsuddenlyitlookssilly.WhatwasIthinking?It’snotme.
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Noneofthisisme.HavingapieceofpaperthatsaysI’mmarriediscompletely
meaningless.IloveShamanGuy.Heismysoulmate.Iamalreadymarriedtohimin
myeyesandintheeyesoftheuniverse.
IcallPinkandallmyreservationscomepouringout.
Pinkisagodsend.Notonlyissheperceptiveandadeptathandlingtheemotionallegal-mentalquagmirethatI’vejustcreated,sheisexcellentatgettingtothebottom
ofmyblubbering.Andsinceshe’snotShamanGuy,Idon’tfeellikeshe’stryingtofix
meandthereforeIamallearsatherastutequestionsandsuggestions.
Afterlettingmerunoutofsteam,Pinkgentlyasks,“Soisthisaboutthedressor
abouttheweddingitself?”
Herquestionstopsme.Ihavetoconsiderthis.
“Both,”Ifinallyadmit.
“Let’sstartwiththedressthen.That’stheeasierfix.Whydon’tyougoseeHottie?
She’llknowifit’sreallynottherightdressorifyoucanembellishittomakeit
yours,”Pinksuggests.
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Hottieisagoddess,friend,andfellowDreamer.Sheisolderthanus,althoughwould
neveradmitherage,butdressesandactslikeafirecracker.She’sgorgeous,sexy,
wise,andaballfullofenergy.She’salsopsychicandhasapersonal
shopping/dressingbusinessontheside.Hottiewilldoaconsultationwithyou,
determineyouruniqueindividualstylethatyouneverknewyouhadinyou,
rummagethroughyourwardrobe,takeyoushopping,andhaveyoulookinglikea
millionbucksallinafewafternoons.IimmediatelyagreetothebrillianceofPink’s
idea.Dresssalvaged.
“Nowwhataboutthewedding?AreyouhavingdoubtsaboutmarryingShamanGuy?
It’dbeokayandnormalifyoudid.”Pinkprobes.
Icheckinwithmyself.Deeply.Iscananddigandconsiderthispossibility.Some
peoplewouldclaimthatit’sonethingtogetspirituallymarriedbutawhole
differentthingtobemarriedlegally.Isthattheproblem?DoIhavedoubtsor
reservationsabout“really”marryingShamanGuy?
Iamcrystalclearthatthisisnottheproblem.What’sbubblingupfromwithinmeis
myauthenticityspeaking.I’vebeenonaspiritualpathforyearsnowandmylifehas
beendedicatedtofindingmytrueself,livingfrommyheart,andintegratingthis
innerknowingintomyeverydaylife.Ifeelmarried.IammarriedtoShamanGuy.
Andhavingapieceofpaperthatsaysthisissofeelsfalsetome.
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Irootaroundalittledeeperandrealizethattheseedforhavingthisweddingcame
fromwantingtomakeWappyandBazerbeokaywithmymarriageandtherefore
okaywithme.Thelegalpartwasforthem,notforShamanGuyormyself.AndIjust
can’tmarrylegallyShamanGuyforthem.
“Doyoustillwanttogothroughwiththewedding?”Pinkinquiresquietly.
OhGod.Myheadstartspounding.Theweddingislessthantwoweeksaway.Plane
ticketshavebeenbought.Reservationsathotelsmade.Depositsplaced.Nonreturnabledressespurchased.CouldIreallyundoallthisnow?DoIwantto?Then
whatwouldpeoplethink?
Ifeelslightlynauseousatmycreation.DuringallmystudyingwithMio,Ihave
practiceddoingwhatfeelsrighttomeeveniftherestoftheworldmaynotagree
withmychoice.I’vestruggledtoletgooftheGoodGirl,whowantstoplease
everyone,dowhat’sexpectedandlogical,andinsteadactfrommyheartofhearts.
Thischoicefeelslikeabiggie.Ihavepublicallymadeaspectacleofmylovefor
ShamanGuyandnowI’mfeelingtheneedtoretractmydesiretogetlegally
married.Andtobeokaywithanyonewhodoesn’tunderstandorlikeit.Andto
somehowconveytoShamanGuythatthisdoesn’thavetodowithmyloveforhim.It
hastodowithhonoringandrespectingmyinnerself.
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NowIneedtotellShamanGuy,Wappy,andBazerthatIstillwanttohavethis
wedding.It’sjustnotgoingtobealegalone.NothinghaschangedinhowIfeel
aboutShamanGuyorourfuture.Iwantallourfriendsandfamilytocelebratewith
us.Itdoesn’tmattertomethatthisweddingandmarriageis“only”spiritual.For
me,that’swhatamarriageis.Iftheydon’tlikeit,sobeit.
IsoundalotmoreconfidentthanIfeel.
Pinkwishesmeluckinthenextphaseofthissaga.I’mgoingtoneedit.Idecideto
startwithShamanGuy,hopinghe’llbetheeasiesttotell.Itrackhimdownand
explainmythought–orheart-process.ShamanGuygetsveryquietforalongtime.
Ican’tstanditanymore.“Saysomething!”Iplead.
“Areyousurethatyou’renotjustgettingcoldfeet?”heasks,mildlyhopefulatthis
normaltoexplainandhopefullyeasyremedy.
Ishakemyheadno.Myeyesareapologetic.
“Doyouhavedoubtsaboutusbeingtogether?”He’stryingreallyhardtowraphis
headaroundthis.
“No!”Iinsist.“Ithasnothingtodowithyou.Itjusthastodowithmarriageandwhat
thatreallymeanstome.”
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“Andyoustillwanttohavethewedding?”
“Yes!”Iinsistevenmorestrongly.
“Well,ifitmeansthatmuchtoyou,I’mokaywithit.Idon’tlikeitbutIloveyouand
wantyoutobehappy.Especiallyonouruh-humsecondweddingday.”ShamanGuy
wrapshisarmsaroundmeandgivesmeakissonthetopofmyhead.God,howI
lovethisguy.Hetrulylovesmeandiswillingtoputupwithallmyzigsandzagsina
waythatI’veneverexperiencedbefore.
NowShamanGuyhasatwinkleinhiseyes,“IguessthismeansthatI’mon
probation.WhatdoIhavetodotogetoffit?”Heplayfullyrubsmybelly,elicitinga
gaspfromme.
“Oh,you’llhavetobevery,verygoodforaverylongtime,”Ireply.Hmmm.Ithinkto
myself.Maybethisisallgoingtoworkoutjustfine.
StandingUpforSpiritual
But,oufff,no,thecalltoWappydidnotgofine.
Wappyisappalled,livid,horrified,pissed,deathlysilent,andseething.Allinonecall.
DidImentionthatshe’saScorpio?Andherstingcanbedeadlywhenprovoked.
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“Whatdoyoumeanthatyouarenotgoingtogetlegallymarried?”Wappyasks,
“Whatotherkindofmarriedisthere?”Long,uncomfortablepause.“Marriedis
married.”
Isigh.Sometimeslivingonoppositecoastsfeelslikelivingonoppositeplanets.The
spiritually-hip-it’s-all-sunshine-and-goodnessgreatstateofCaliforniadoesnot
translateinacitythathasmorecloudcoverthananyothercitybesidesSeattleand
inthetownwasbuiltonthesweatofmanybrokenbacks.Igingerlytrytoexplain
myreasonsandwhatisimportanttome.
Lotsofstonysilence.
IrealizeI’mgoingtohavetofessupaboutourweddinginMexico.
Acold,deepfreeze.
Finally,Ihearherpulltheaceinherpocket.“Bazer!Getonthephone.Your
daughterhassomethingtotellyou.”
(InotethatIamnowjusthisdaughter,nottheirs.)
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Igothroughmyexplanationagain.Andaspredicted,allIgetisa“humph.”Ihearthe
mouthpiecebeingmuffledwithanangryCharlieBrownteachervoiceinthe
background.Wah-wah-wa-wa-wah-wah.
Theyarebothbackontheline.“So,whatdoyouthinkaboutallofthisBazer?”
Wappyasksicily.SheknowsthatIamdaddy’slittledarlingandIdon’tlike
disappointinghim.Luckily,Bazerhatesconfrontationsohegoesneutral.“Whatever
makesherhappyisokaybyme,”Bazersays.Thankyouthankyouthankyou.(I
utteraprayertoLord,Mary,Joseph,andJesus,alongwithanyotherdeitiesthat
immediatelyspringtomind.)Butyessch,Wappyisnothappyaboutthatresponse.
PoorBazer.
“Soareyoucallingtheweddingoff?”Wappyasks.
“No.Wewouldstillliketocelebratewithourfriendsandfamily.We’rejustnot
turninginthemarriagelicense.”
“Sowhatareyougoingtotelleveryone?”
Icontemplatethisforafewmoments.Quitefrankly,itdoesn’tmattertomeifthe
weddingislegal,notspiritual.Anditdoesn’tmattertomeifpeopleknowifthe
weddingislegalorspiritual.Ultimately,Idon’teventhinkit’stheirbusiness.Will
theyevencare?IknowmyCalifornia-basedcrowdcouldn’tcareless.Butforthe
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Pittsburghcontingent,I’msureitwouldraiseeyebrowsandcreatescuttlebutt.
WhichI’mnotinterestedinengagingwith.
“I’mnotgoingtotellthemanything,”Isayholdingmyground.
NowWappydoesnotuseprofanity(atleastnotaroundme)butshemightaswell
have.Eachwordpunctuatedwithextremedistainanddisapproval.“Thatisnot
right.You.Can’t.Do.That!”
Ah,theparadoxofgood,bad,right,wrong.WhatIbelieveisgoodandsacredand
holy,shebelievesisbad,wrong,andevil.Who’sright?Issomeonewrong?And
whoseweddingisthisanyway??
Forthenextfewminutessherantsabouthowpeoplehaveboughtplaneticketsand
presents.It’snotfairtocanceltheweddingnow.Butit’sevenworsetoleadthemto
believethatit’sarealmarriagewhenitisnot.Shedidn’traisemetoactthisway.Is
thisascamtoraisemoneytotravel?Whatismyproblem...Isetthephonedownfor
afewminutesandbreathedeeply.
WhenIhearabreakinthetirade,Ipickupthephoneandtakeastand.Something
clearandcalmrisesupfromwithinme.“Mom,thisismywedding.Itisgoingtobea
dayofloveandcelebration.Iwoulddearlyloveforyou,Bazer,andourfamilytojoin
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us.Butit’syourchoice.Ifit’simportanttoyouthatotherpeopleknowthatweare
notsigningapieceofpaper,thenbyallmeanstellthem.”
ThatstopsWappydeadinhertracks.Ofcourseshedoesn’twanttosufferany
potentialjudgmentorembarrassmentbyhavingtotellrelativesandfamilyfriends
justwhathercrazydaughterisuptonow.“Well,Imight.Ihavetothinkaboutit.”
Andwiththat,thephoneclicksdead.Standingupforwhatmyheartbelievessureis
apaininthebootysometimes.
Woo-wooWedding,NumberTwo
May30,2003.Mysecondweddingday.Istandabovethecrowd,onthenaturalrise
attheedgeoftheWeddingBowl,surveyingthe75orsopeoplewhohaveassembled
below.Myheartswells.Thereistheweddingparty,alllookingstunning,dressedin
black,minglingwiththerestoftheguests.ThereareallourfriendsfromMio’sgang:
Carrot-top,Q-Tip,Linda,JollyBear,Manny,Hottieplusagoodfewdozenmore.
ThereisthePittsburghcrowd–familyandfamilyfriends,plusafewofmyold
friendssprinkledin,nonethewiseraboutwhatkindofmarriagethisis,realornot.
Evenmyelementaryschoolartteacherisinattendance.Wappylooksexquisiteina
modern,flowing,electricbluedresswithchunkyjewelry.She’smanagedtobe
polite,warmandfriendlyforthemostpartsinceourconversation,butIcanstill
perceiveaslightfrostbelowthesurface.Bazerisdashinginblackandhappynotto
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havetowearasuitortie.ShamanGuy’smom,Junebug,andoneofhisbrothersare
inattendance,alongwithhisbrother’sdogJack.Andthere’sapackfrommyInnerCityArtsdays,allthedirectors,hangingoutwithNaj.Najbreaksawaytocorral
LittleLion,herson,whoisourflowerboy,andattempttoherdalltheEwok
weddingpartyintoplace.
IlookoutoverthePacificOceanandtakeitallin.Theskyiscloudyandgrey,butasI
looktowardthehorizon,beamsofsunlightarefilteringthrough.Theoceanis
crashing,thescrubbrushalongthecliffscreatesthedistinctlyCalifornia-beach
smellintheair.Ilovethatweareoutinnature,nearanoceanIlove,notfarfrom
whereourvisionofgettingmarriedtookplacejustafewmonthsago.Ican’tbelieve
howmuchhaschangedsincethen.
AirManwalksupthepathtowhereIamwaitingfortheceremonytobegin.Wegive
eachotheralong,tightembrace.Iwhisperinhisear,“Thanksforcoming.Itmeansa
lottome.Iknowit’snoteasy.”AirMannodsintomyneck.Icontinue,“Thanksfor
lettingmego.Ireallyappreciateitandknowwe’llbothbehappierforit.”AirMan
pullsawayandsmiles.Thereissomesadnessreflectedinbothofoureyesbutalsoa
knowingthatthisisrightforbothofus.Myheartsswellsforhim.Heissuchagreat
guyanditwasreallybigofhimtocometodaytosupportandcelebrateShamanGuy
andIgettingmarried.
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“Youlookbeautiful,”hesaysandturnstowalkdownthepath.Isendhimonemore
bigenergetichug,wishhimsomuchhappiness,andfeelthatchapterofmylifeclose
forever.
Bazerstepsupbymyside.“Youdolooknice.”Supremecomplimentcomingfrom
theBazer.“Sodoyou,”Ireplyandpathisarm.Iwoulddearlyloveforhimtoimpart
someprofoundfatherly-wisdomonmyweddingday.Buthe’snotmuchofatalker,
letaloneabigpicture,philosophicalspeechkindofguysothat’sthebestI’mgoing
toget.AndI’mhappyandgratefulthathe’sherebymyside.Hisactionshavealways
spokenlouderthanhisfewwords.
Bazer’scomplimentiscertainlytrue.Hottiedefinitelydidanumberonme.Aftera
morningatthesalongettingnailsdoneandabikiniwax(theoneandonlytimethat
willeverhappen),Lini,Pink,Wappy,HottieandIconvenedinourhoneymoonsuite,
notfarfromTranformU,andIunderwentabeautification.Itwasgirl-timegalore.
Hairandmakeup,notmystrongsuit,whereexpertlyappliedandupswept.
Aftermymeltdown,Hottiehaddoneaconsultationtosavethedaywithmydress.
Wefunkeditupwithdeep,hotpinkheelsandaddedadeep,hotpinkshawl.And
thankGodwedidbecauseitwasfreezingstandingthereonthecliff.Hottietookme
shoppingtofindmulti-coloredpinkteardropearrings,whichtiedinwiththepink
shawlsweaskedallthebridesmaidstowear,eachadifferentandlovelyshade.To
topitalloff,shecreatedastunningbouquetformewithlong,streamingpink
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ribbonsofdifferenthues.Theoveralleffectwasclassy,withenoughindividuality
thrownintosatisfytherebelinme.PlusIstoodoutinmywhitedresswithmy
black-dressedentouragebehindme.
IlookacrosstheBowltotheotherentranceonthefarside.Acommotionofenergy
caughtmyattention.ShamanGuyhadjustarrivedinaborrowedblackconvertible,
KaiandBeavis,grinningear-to-earintheback.Withtheirblondshaggyhaircutsand
kineticenergy,thetwopre-teensresembledeagergoldenretrieversoutforajoy
ride.ShamanGuyboundsoutofthecarandchargesdownthestairs,hissidekicks
closebehind.Hisblacktuxedocontrastedbeautifullywithhisshoulder-length,
slightlycurlyblondehair.God,hewashunkyandhandsome.
Butwhatreallydrewmyattentionwashisenergy.Thesceneflickersandshiftsfora
momentandheisaVikingwarrior,confidentandsure,readytoclaimhisbride.I
halfexpecthimtodrawoutasword,sweepmeupoffmyfeet,throwmeontheback
ofhisrideandcarrymeofftohisvillage.TheimagefadesandIfeelabitgiddyasI
watchmyhandsomeguymakehiswaytothefrontoftheseats,huggingandkissing
ashegoes.Heembraceshismomandbrother,andofcoursepatsJackonthehead.
Wearereadytogetstarted.
FlutemusicdriftsuptowhereBazerandIarestanding.Suavehaskickedoffthe
prelude.LittleLion,lookinghandsomelyadorableinamini-blacksuit(theonly
personattheeventbesidesthegroomwhowasdressedformally),iswalking
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solemnlydowntheaisletossingpinkpetalsoutofabasket.Occasionallyabigsmile
breaksacrosshisfacebeforehedecidesthatthiswasagravejobtobetaken
seriouslyandhisfacefallssolemnagain.HeescortsNajtothepodium,skirtingthe
circleofstonesthatwehadlaidoutinthecenterearlyintheday.
ShamanGuyandIhadhadsomefuncollectingtherocksfromourgardenandfrom
walksonthebeach,thenpaintingthemwithwordstoholdtheenergyforour
marriage.Weinfusedeachwithourenergy.Creation.Merge.Faith.Laughter.Dream.
Love.Trust.SayYes.Weplacedthreeheart-shapedonesinthecenteroftherock
circletorepresenteachofusandKai,alongwithathirdstonetorepresentthe
unknownandinfinitepossibilitiesofourlifetogether.Morerockswereplacedin
eachofthecardinaldirections,alongwithonesthatheldthespacefortheordinal
directionstoo.(Goodword,eh?Thatmeanssouthwest,northeast,etc.Hadtolookit
uponlinemyself.)
AsIsurveythesceneofwhatwehadcreated,Irealizedthatalthoughweintended
forthisceremonytobemorenormalthanourMarziwedding,itwasfarfrom
traditional.Icouldfeeltheenergyrisingwithinme.ShamanGuyandIwere,afterall,
shamans.Andwhentwoshamanscometogether,powerfulenergyflies.This
weddingmayhavehadsomeconventionalelementstoit–therewasawhitedress,
andwewereabouttohaveaprocessional,somewordsfromtheminister,an
exchangeofrings,vows,apronouncement,andmusic–butitwasafareagle’scry
awayfromtheceremoniesthatwerehappeningaroundtheworldinchurches,
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synagogues,mosques,andbanquethalls.WhenIlookedatwhatwasunfolding
beforeme,Ihadtoadmitthiswasyetanotherwoo-woowedding.
Nowtheweddingpartyismakingtheirwaydowntheaisle.Suave,stillplayingthe
flutewithTitaonhisarm.Pinklookingprettyinpinkwithmybrotheratherside.
LiniandDosaddingsomeflare.MulaBondaYogiandRadiant,withherlongflowing
blondehairaddingtotheViking-nessoftheoccasion.Hmm,ourweddingpartywas
comprisedofshamans.MybrotherloopedbackaroundtoescortWappy,motherof
thebridetoherspot.Ourteamwasinplace.
BazerandImakeourwaydowntheslopingtrail,alleyesonus.I’mbeamingand
breathingandtakingitallin.Bazer’sjokingthathe’sneverhadsomanypictures
taken,notevenonhisownweddingday.He’snotoneforbeingphotographed.
Aswewalkdowntheaisle,ShamanGuy’sandmyeyeslockinplace.Itfeelslikea
magneticbeamispullingmetothefrontoftheceremony.Heisbreamingwith
pride.AndsoamI.
BazerdropsmeoffnexttoNajwithakissonmycheekandtakesaseatnextto
Wappy.I’mhopingtheenergyandwordsthatwe’veplannedforthedaywilltouch
everyone’shearts,especiallyWappy’s.
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Najbeginsandweareoff.Withherdancerandtheaterbackground,combinedwith
herbigheart,sheexudesjoyandcanprojecttothebackofthecrowd.Herewego.
Sheintroducesherselfandwelcomesourguests,“Iamthrilledandhonoredto
welcomeyoutothisCelebrationofLove.I’dliketoacknowledgefriendsandfamily
whohavetraveledfartobehere,andI’dalsoliketoacknowledgethethoughtsand
goodwishesofthosewhoarewithusinspiritandthosewhosespiritsarewithus.
WeareheretodaytocelebrateShamanGuy’sandShamanGirl’scommitmentto
spendingtheirlivestogether.Here,asinculturesallovertheworld,wecelebrate
thislifepassagewithapublicritual...aweddingceremony.Thewords‘ceremony,’
‘ritual’and‘tradition’havedifferentmeaningsforeachofus,dependingonour
background,ourexperience,andthechoiceswe’vemadeinourlives.”
Well,shehitthenailontheheadandcalleditlikeitwas!Isayasilentprayerthat
thisdayisn’ttookookyforthecrowdgatheringfromafar.
Najcontinues,“ShamanGirlandShamanGuysharethedreamofheavenonearth.In
thisdream,eachindividualhastheopportunitytolivehisorherlifeinlove,
abundance,joyandhappiness.Inthisdream,anythingispossiblewithfaith,love,and
action.Thispracticehasbroughtthemgreatawareness,transformation,andlove
thatmanyofyoupresenthavehadthepleasureofwitnessingandsharingwiththem.”
That’sright.Sayitlikeitis,sister.
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“WhenShamanGuyandShamanGirlmet,theybothknewthattheyloved
themselvessomuchthattheywerereadytoloveoneanotherunconditionally.They
werereadytobeperfectmirrorsforeachother'slove.Theyeachsaid"yes"withall
theirheartandalltheirsoul.Asyou'veseen,ShamanGirlandShamanGuyare
deeply,madly,crazyinlovewithlife,withthemselves,andwitheachother.They
oozehappiness,abundance,andjoy.”
ThisgetsagoodlaughfromthecrowdbecauseShamanGuyandIaredefinitely
shining.
“Theybegantheirlivesagain,bothindividuallyandtogether,asthebrightsunsthat
theyare,shiningtheirlightandloveoutintotheuniverse.Theyre-committedto
jumpingintolife,tosharingthedreamthatbeinginheavenwhileyouarestillhere
onthisearthisutterlypossible.
Theyinviteyoutostepintothisdreamtoday.Theyinviteyoutoopenyourhearts
tothemagicoflife,tothegiftoflove,andtothepleasureofsharingthissacredtime
andplacetogethertoday.”
Najdirectseveryone’sattentiontothestonesinthecenterofthecircle,explaining
theirsignificance.TheysheinvitesthecrowdtoriseandfacetheEast.Withher
guidance,wecallintheenergiesofeachdirection.Wedon’tholdbackaswerally
theunseenpowersthatare.
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AsweturntotheEast:
WecalltotheEast,thedirectionofairandwind...theplaceofsunrise,light,
newbeginnings,enthusiasm,intuition,inspiration,clarityandvision—the
placeofthespirit.TheEastisthedirectionthatholdsthepowerof
illuminationandenlightenment,theexperienceofthespiritualandthe
characteristicofprotection.Asitsgifttoday,theEastbringstheLoveofSpirit.
NowaswefacetheSouth:
WecalltotheSouth,thedirectionoffire...theplaceofwarmth,ofthenoon
sun,offeelings,passionandlove—theplaceoftheheart.TheSouthisthe
directionthatholdsthepoweroftrustandinnocence,theexperienceofthe
emotionalandthecharacteristicofnourishment.Asitsgifttoday,theSouth
bringsEroticLove.
NextupistheWest:
WecalltotheWest,thedirectionofwater...theplaceofsunset,change,power,
inner-workandbeliefs—theplaceofthesoul.TheWestisthedirectionthat
holdsthepowerofintrospectionandintuition,theexperienceofthephysical
andthecharacteristicofgrowth.Asitsgifttoday,theWestbringsSelf-Love.
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Andlet’snotforgettohonortheNorth:
WecalltotheNorth,thedirectionofearth...theplaceofcoolmidnight,ofthe
love-of-truth,thesensate,andknowledge—theplaceofthought.TheNorthis
thedirectionthatholdsthepowerofwisdomandlogic,theexperienceofthe
mentalandthecharacteristicofwholeness.Asitsgifttoday,theNorthbrings
Other-Love.
Finally,wearefacingthecenterofthecircle:
WecalltotheEarth,thelandthatwestandon,deepeningourroots,allowing
ourbranchestogrowoutwardandourwingstospreadfurther,carryingus,
groundedintruthandlove,toplacesofgreatcourageandstrength.
Wecalltothesky,breathingtheinfinitespaceintoourbellies,allowingthe
limitlessqualitytobroadenourvisionofwhatispossible,carryingus,inthe
feelingofexpansiveness,intotheplaceofourdreams.
Najinviteseveryonetopleasebeseated,“Iinviteyounowtobeinsilenceforafew
moments,toexperiencethedivineinwhateverwayyouperceiveit—toexperience
thisbeautifulplace,yourownbreathandthisparticularmomentintime.
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Yep,realtraditionalallright.
Iclosemyeyesandsimplyperceive.Theocean.Thewind.Thesun.Thecriesofthe
seagulls.Therustlingsinthecrowd.Myownbeatingheart.Ifeelmyselfexpanding,
reachingouttoShamanGuy,energeticallyjoininghands,andencompassingour
friendsandfamily.Ifeeltheintentbehindthisceremonyandseeittravellingoutin
waves,creatingafutureaheadofus,re-writingourpast,andmakingeachmoment
inthepresentbecomemorealiveandvibrantwithpossibility.
Naj’svoicebringsmeback,“ShamanGuyandShamanGirlareheretodaytobe
married.Theyenterintomarriagewithmanydreams,carryingthelove
representedbyallthegoodwishes,blessingsandprayersofeveryonehere.
Deservedlyso,theonewordthatwillundoubtedlybespokenthemosttoShaman
GirlandShamanGuytodayis"Congratulations".
Eachtimethatwordisspokenit'sacelebrationofthegrowingthatShamanGirland
ShamanGuyhavebeendoingasindividualsformanyyears."Congratulations,
throughyourhardworkandperseveranceingettingtoknowyourselves,you're
abletocometothisrelationshipaswholepeople,abletogiveofyourselveswithout
losingtheself,abletoaskoftheother,withoutfearofsmotheringthatself.
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AsweexperiencetheinspirationofShamanGirlandShamanGuy’slovewe’re
keenlyawareofthebeautiful,uniqueindividualsthatmakeupthisexquisite
partnership.Sowhoaretheseindividualstoeachother?”
MyeyeswellupatthebeautyoftheceremonythatNajhascreated.Sheisweaving
togetherthespiritualteachingsthatwelivedbywithtraditions,symbols,and
ceremoniesfromaroundtheworldtocapturetheessenceofShamanGuyandI
comingtogether.Iamdeeplytouchedandimpressed.Shehadaskedmetogiveher
wordstodescribehowIthinkofShamanGuy,butIhadnoideathatshewouldbe
usingourwordsinthewedding.Iassumedthatshewasjusttryingtogettoknow
himbetter.Butnow,IammovedtohearwhatShamanGuythoughtofme.
“WhenShamanGuythinksofShamanGirl,hethinksof:
Light Laughter
Kindness
Strength
Beauty
Elegance
Sensuality
Merging
Dancing
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Juicy Aflower
Abutterflyopeningitswings
Thedivinefeminine Sustainingandembracing
Holdingtheenergy Floating”
Iamsoluckytobemarryingthisguy.AndnowIreturnthehighregardsofhim.
“WhenShamanGirlthinksofShamanGuy,sheusesthewords:
Masculine
Handsome
Giving
Funny
Friend
Wisdom
Love
Passion
Playfulness
Focused
Yummy
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Juicy-Delicious
Supportive
Accepting
Amanofpower
Aradiantsoul
Anamazingfather Acaringsonandbrother
Awiseteacher
Aleader
LightandLove
Mybeloved Myman
Mymirror”
“Whatincredibleimagestheyhaveofeachother.Now…whoarethesepeople
together…whataretheyinterestedinandwhatdotheywant?”Najinvites
MulaBondaYogiandRadianttocenterstagetoreadTheInvitation,apoembyOriah
MountainDreamer.Iadorethispoemanditfeelsperfecttobereadingitonmy
weddingday.
RadiantandMulaBondabeautifullyalternatereadingpassages,acallandresponse
frommasculineandfeminine.
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Itdoesn'tinterestmewhatyoudoforaliving.Iwanttoknowwhatyouacheforandif
youdaretodreamofmeetingyourheart'slonging.
Itdoesn'tinterestmehowoldyouare.Iwanttoknowifyouwillrisklookinglikeafool
forlove,foryourdream,fortheadventureofbeingalive.
Itdoesn'tinterestmewhatplanetsaresquaringyourmoon.Iwanttoknowifyouhave
touchedthecenterofyourownsorrow,havebeenopenedbylife'sbetrayalsorhave
becomeshriveledandclosedfromfearoffurtherpain.
Iwanttoknowifyoucansitwithpain,mineoryourown,withoutmovingtohideitor
fadeitorfixit.
Iwanttoknowifyoucanbewithjoy,mineoryourown,ifyoudancewithwildnessand
letitfillyoutothetipsofyourfingersandtoeswithoutcautioningustobecareful,to
berealisticortorememberthelimitationsofbeinghuman.
Itdoesn'tinterestmeifthestoryyouaretellingistrue.Iwanttoknowifyoucan
disappointanothertobetruetoyourself,ifyoucanbeartheaccusationofbetrayal
andnotbetrayyourownsoul.
Iwanttoknowifyoucanbefaithfulandthereforebetrustworthy.
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Iwanttoknowifyoucanseebeautyevenwhenitisnotprettyeveryday,andifyoucan
sourceyourlifefromitspresence.
Iwanttoknowifyoucanlivewithfailure,yoursandmine,andstillstandontheedge
ofalakeandshouttothesilvermoon,YES!
Andwithhis,MulaBondaraiseshishandtotheskyandyellsout,“YES!”ShamanGuy
andIlaugh.Theyesthemecontinues.
Itdoesn'tinterestmetoknowwhereyouliveorhowmuchmoneyyouhave,Iwantto
knowifyoucangetupafteranightofgriefanddespair,wearyandbruisedtothe
boneanddowhatneedstobedoneforthechildren.
Itdoesn'tinterestmewhoyouareorhowyoucametobehere.Iwanttoknowifyou
canstandatthecenterofthefirewithmeandnotshrinkback.
Itdoesn'tinterestmewhatorwhereorwithwhomyouhavestudied.Iwanttoknow
whatsustainsyoufromtheinsidewhenallelsefallsaway.
Iwanttoknowifyoucanbealonewithyourselfandifyoutrulylikethecompanyyou
keepintheemptymoments.
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Foramoment,Ireflectonhowaptitistobereadingthispoem,whichhasand
continuestotouchsomanyheartsbysomeonecalled“OriahMountainDreamer.”
Herfirstnamewasgiventoherinanactofhealinginadream;herlastnamebya
shaman.Oftenquestionedwhetherthisisher“real”name,Oriahwillcheerfully
explainthatwhileitisnotherbirthname,itisherspiritualnameandtoherthisis
mostreal.Whiledeeplyhonoringherspiritualname,shealsowillinglyrecognizes
thatourmoderncultureoftenhasreactionstohername.Sometimesshesharesin
thisprejudiceofthinkingitmightevenbeabitflaky.Andfortherecord,hermother
stillcallsherbyherbirthname.Ah,thedancebetweenmotheranddaughters,
betweenmoderncultureandaspiritualpath,betweenwhatisconsideredrealand
whatfeelsrealbutmightbeunseen.Iknowthatdancewell.
Najcontinues,“Beingheretoday,forShamanGirlandShamanGuy,meansthatthey
know–they’veansweredthosequestionsandaremovingforwardwithfaithand
vision.Butmovingforwardtowhere?
WhentalkingwithShamanGuyandShamanGirlabouthowtheyenvisionedthis
day,ShamanGuyoffhandedlysaid:“Well,it’skindoflikeliferight?…Youshowup
andsayyes.”Thatiswhatthey’redoingheretoday–they’resayingyestoliving
theirlivesin,whatShamanGuycalls,hisalternateuniverse.”
Yes,it’struethatShamanGuyandIliveinanalternateuniverse,anotherreality.
Ourbeliefinthisplacemakesitrealtousandfromthereitripplesintoouterreality.
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AllofMio’steachingsexpand,crackopen,andbecomeevenmoreclearinthis
moment.Lookwhatwehavecreatedinsideofus,IsaywithmyeyestoShamanGuy.
Lookwhatwehavecreatedaroundus,withourintent,ourwords,ouractions.Look
atthedreamweareliving.Wehaveachoiceinhowwedreamourlivesandwehave
chosen,withoutadoubt,todreamabeautiful,love-filled,infinitepossibility,
alternatereality.
NajsharesShamanGuy’svisionwithourguests,“ShamanGuydescribesitlikethis:
‘Inmyuniverse,thereistheperfectunionbetweenmaleandfemale.Abeautiful
balanceofunconditionalloveandplayfulness.Nostories,nojudgments,no
fear.Respectforoneanotherasweare.Perfectinourexpressionoflife,our
physicality,ouremotions,ourspirits.Perfect.Nodramawhatsoever.No
projection.Nounclearcommunication.Justcompletetendernessanddevotion.
ThereisnoheartbreakherebecausetheLovecannotbetakenorgivenaway.Itis
eternal.TwosoulsimmersedinSilence,intheVoid.PerfectMirrorsforone
another.’
Beautiful!
Liniisnowinvitedtostepupandspeak.Shespeaksfromherheart.Sheremindsus
ofhowmanytwistsandturnslifetakes.Howwemake“wrong”choicesthatdon’t
feelright,butstillwearebeinglead,wekeepgoing.Andthenfinallyoneday,
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suddenly,thereheis.Thereisreallove.Andallwehavetodoishavethedecency
andthecouragetosay‘yes.’”
Amengirlfriend.
Jackletsoutabark,addinginhisapproval,whichgetslaughfromthoseassembled.
NextupisTita.Wearejustgettingwarmedup.Nowwe’vecalledinthebigguns.
TitaasksShamanGuyandItostepuptoeithersideofthestonecircle.Sheinvokes
theinfinityloopthatwecreatedanexperiencedsomanytimesinMarzi,explaining
asshegoestothecrowd.Oneendoftheloop,thefeminine,isrootedwithinme.It
snakesoutandaroundtomergewithShamanGuy’score-belly,whilehisenergyis
simultaneouslysnakingout,loopingaroundandcrossingwithmine.
ShamanGuyandIshiftintoanintenseenergeticspace.Ifeelourenergyriseand
surge.Movingslowlyatfirst,andthenquickening.Webothstartglowingwhite
light,whichwilllaterbeperceptibleonthevideos.Mybreathingdeepens.Theedges
ofmyvisionfadesaway.Myownexperience,andShamanGuy–hiseyes,hisheart,
hiscore,hisenergybody–arethecenterofmyfocus.
Foramoment,mymindflickers.WearemerginginfrontofMuggles.Cantheysee
it?Cantheyfeelit?Willitbeokay?
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Butassoonasthethoughtcomes,itgoesagain.Thereisnostoppingthisenergy
fromcoursingthroughus.Expansion.Merging.Infinite.Whenitfeelscomplete,Tita
bringsthisportionofourceremonytoaclose.
Najtakesoveragainandasksforustocomejoinher.IfloatovertoShamanGuyand
forthefirsttimeintheceremony,wetouch.Ashetakesmyhand,Ifeelour
electricityunleashandcracklethroughus.Islipbetweentheworldsforafew
momentsandseeuscomingtogetherasspiritualroyalty.Icannottellifwehave
donethisbeforeinsomeothertimeorspace,orifthisflashhastodowithour
comingtogethernow.Orboth.
Iwatchmyegostruggleforamomentwithwhatthismightmean.Isitobnoxiousto
feelthisway?Andinthenextmoment,Ifeelthisquestionwashawayanditis
replacedbyaknowing.It’sequallycrasstonotrecognizewhatis.Allofusare
divine.Allofusdeserveinsaneromanceandcompleteinnerknowingsand
wondrouspossibilities.Itisourbirthrighttostepupandclaimit.
MyattentionmovesbackintothispresentasKaihandsmeShamanGuy’swedding
ringandPinkhandsShamanGuymine.ShamanGuytwirlsmyringaroundinhis
palmandgivesmeawink.
WhileaccessoryshoppingwithHottie,wehadfoundtheearringsinamallstorethat
wasofferinga“buyonegetonefree”special.Therewasabinofringsthatcaughtmy
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eyeandasIrummagedthroughthem,Ipulledoneoutthatlookedlikemyideal
weddingband.“Heylook!”IjokedtoHottie.“Ijustfoundmyweddingring!”I
slippedthesimplesilverbandthatwasinlaidwithtinyhahadiamondsina
completelooponmyfingeranditfitperfectly.“Andit’stherightprice,FREE!”At
thispoint,wewererunningoutofcashtofundourdreamceremony.Hottie
chuckledandswattedmeplayfully,“Veryfunny.”
WhenIshowedmyfindtoShamanGuythatnight,Irealizedthattheringhadgrown
onme.Herewasacheap,plastic,probablynotevengenuinecubiczirconia,ringthat
Igenuinelyliked.Italsosymbolizedthewholeconundrumofthiswedding–what
makessomethingreal?Adiamond?Anauthenticcertificate?Love?Ididn’treally
careaboutspendingalotofmoneyonaring,andIalreadyhadaweddingringfrom
Marzithatwasperfectforme.Andbesides,ifweweregoingbytheadage,“A
weddingringshouldcostthreemonthsofthegroom’ssalary”thenIwasrighton
target.$0x3=$0,i.e.FREE.Whynotkickoffourmarriagebyacceptingfreebiesno
mattertheformtheycamein?Wewereplanningalifeofabundance,evenifwe
hardlyhadtwopenniestorubtogetherrightnow.Plus,Ireasoned,Iwasn’tonefor
traditions,soIcouldalwaysupgradeatalaterdate.
WhileIwentoffonmytripdownmemorylane,Najistellingthecrowd,“Theserings
are,forShamanGirlandShamanGuy,tangiblerepresentationsofsomething
intangible–physicalremindersoftheircommitment,symbolizingthenever-ending
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natureoftheirloveforeachother.Theyserveaspowerobjectsforthem,carrying
somethingofthedreamoftheinfinite.”
IlookdeepintoShamanGuy’seyes.Idotakemycommitmenttohimseriously,no
matterwhatkindofrockisonmyhand.AndIknowthathefeelsthesameforme,so
weechoeachother’swords,“Youaremybeloved,mymirror,mypartnerandmy
friend.”
Najcontinues,movingontoourvowswhichareabitdifferentthanthestandard“to
haveandtoholdinsickandinhealthtildeathdouspart”ones,“ShamanGirland
ShamanGuy,youcarrywithyougiftsfromyourlife’sjourneythatserveasa
foundationtobuildingajoyfulandsuccessfulunion.Usingthesegifts,youwill
createwhatyouseekinyourmarriage.Iaskyounowtojoinhandsandlookinto
eachother’seyesasIaskyouquestionsandspeakwordstoyouthathavebeen
adaptedfromprayersthatMiocreated.
Todayisthebeginningofanewlifeforyouboth.Todayisaspecialdaytoexpress
whatyouhaveinyourhearts.Todayisyourweddingday.Youaregettingmarried
andthereisjoyandhappinessinyourhearts.Youaremarryingtheperfectpartner
foryou.Youaremarryingexactlythekindofpersonyouhavealwaysdreamedof
marrying.Allisperfectandyouarereadyforthisunion.
Iwantyoutoconsider:
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Howareyougoingtotreattheoneyoulovesomuch?
Howareyougoingtotreatsomeonewhoallowsyoutoexpressyourselfcompletely,
whorespectsyourfreedom,andwhodoesn'thavetheneedtocontrolyou?
Howwillyoutreatsomeonewholovesyoujustthewayyouare,andnotjustthe
wayyouare,butbecauseofwhatyouare;someonewhonevermistreatsyouor
speaksunkindwordstoyou;someonewhorespectsyousomuchthatyoucanbe
whateveryouwanttobe,dowhateveryouwanttodo,feelwhateveryouwantto
feel?”
AshimmermovesthroughmybodyasIfeeltheimpactofthesewords.Weare
creatinghighstandardsforourselvesandwhilewemaynotbeabletoliveuptothis
ineverymoment,wewillcertainlydoourbest.
Thevowscontinuewithlotsofaffirmativeanswers,“Areyoureadyforthis
relationship?Canyouallowyourbelovedtobehimself,withoutanyjudgment?Can
youloveherjustthewaysheis,withouttryingtochangeher?Canyourespectyour
belovedsomuchthatyouneverhavetotellhimhowtobe,whattobe,whatto
believe,whatnottobelieve?Canyoulovehersomuchthatyouneverput
restrictionsontheexpressionofherlife,ontheexpressionofherspirit?Areyou
abletolovethisway?Canyoulivetherestofyourlivesincompletecommunion
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withlove,sothatyoulovefornoreason?Canyoudevoteyourentirelivestolove,so
thateveryexpressionofyourlives,everythingyousayanddo,isbecauseoflove?”
Yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,YES!Bytheendwearealittlegigglyatwithallthe
promisesoflove.
Najturnstoourcommunityandsays,“Livingyourlifewithloveisachoice.Iinvite
allofyoutocloseyoureyesforamoment,andjoinShamanGuyandShamanGirlin
imagininghowyouwouldrelatetotherestoftheworldiflovewasalwaysmoving
throughyou.
Imaginewhatyouwouldsay,whatyouwouldfeel,andwhatyouwoulddo,iflove
wasmovingthroughyou.Imaginehowyouwouldrelatetoeveryoneinyourlife.
Imaginelivingyourlifewithoutjudgingorblamingotherpeople.Becauseyoulove,
youneverspeakagainstanyone.Youhavenothingtosaybutwordsofloveabout
everyone.Withtheeyesoflove,yourwholerealityhaschanged;everythinglooks
beautifultoyou.Withtheeyesoflove,youseegreatnessinallthepeoplearound
you.NowIinviteyoutoopenyoureyes,andseelove.”
AndthenIfeelit.Aspark,awave,ashiftinourfamilyandfriends.Lovemoving
through.Sure,Icouldhearplentyofmindshaveopinionsaboutourlove-fest.But
thereitwas.Lovemanifest.
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NajdirectsherwordsbacktousandIfeeltheenergyamplify,“Feeltheforceoflife
passingthroughyourbodies.Feelthecommunionoflovewitheachother,withthe
divine.Youarenowreadytosharethejoyofyourunionwitheveryone.Fromnow
on,yourlivesrepresentaunionwithyourselves,witheachother,andwiththe
divine.
Becausebothofyouhadthecouragetoloveyourselvesunconditionallyandloveeach
otherunconditionally,becauseyoubothchosetotakethatleapintothevoid,thereality
ofinfinitepossibilityandinfiniteloveisnowopentoyou.Yourlivesaredevotedtolove;
yourlivesaredevotedtojoyandhappiness.Thisisheavenonearth,anditisinyour
hands.MayyouliveinHeavenonEarthwiththedivine.Mayyouliveinaneternal
honeymoon.”
MyenergyandShamanGuy’sarehavingajollygoodtime.Leaping,tickling,chasing.
Mergingbackandforth,touchingthewholecrowd’s.Ah,there’sTita’sjoiningin.Pink’s.
LiniandDos’s.Ourenergyhopscotchesamongourfamilyandfriends,greeting,carrying,
becomingexponentiallybigger.
Najasksustomakeourlovemanifestinwords,“Andnow,repeatingafterme…”
Ifeelacool,calmspaceopenwithinme.Crystalclearandstillasamountainlake.
Withutterconfidenceandsolemnity,IrepeatafterNaj,eachlinefilledwithintent
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“ShamanGuy,Itakeyouasmyhusband.
Ipledgetosharemylifeopenlywithyou,
andtospeakthetruthtoyouinlove.
Ipromisetohonoryou
andtotenderlycareforyou,
tocherishyou
andtoencourageyourownfulfillmentasanindividual
throughallthechangesinourlives.”
ShamanGuytakesthesamevows.Thisisnotarelationshipoflovingandobeying,it
isoneoffreedom,honoringourownindividualpaths,whilealsosupportingeach
otherandtherelationshiptoo.
Najnowgivesusablessing,“ShamanGuyandShamanGirl,whereveryour
explorationstakeyou,intheouterworldoryourowninnerworlds,mayyoualways
travelwiththeknowledgeofyourlove,andcontinuetorediscoveritthrougheach
experience.Mayyoubeablessingandcomforttoeachother,sharingineachother’s
joys,consolingeachotherinyoursorrows,assistingeachotherthroughallthe
challengeslifeoffers.Mayyouencourageeachotherinwhateveryoupursue,and
mayyou,trustingeachother,alsotrustlifeandreassureoneanotherifthattrustof
lifeisevershadowedbyfearordoubt.Maytherespect,honestyandaffection
betweenyoucontinuetogrowandcontinuetoextendtothosearoundyou.
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ShamanGuyandShamanGirl,wewishforyouthatyoualwaysmaintainyourfocus
inyourrelationship,whilecontinuingtoappreciateyourindividualstrengthsandto
respectandvaluetheperspectivesanduniquequalitiesthatyoueachbringtoyour
relationship.Whateverissuesarise,mayyounevergiveup,butcontinueto
challengeeachotherandyourselvestogodeeperandfurther.Mayyoualways
maintaintheserenityofpeacefulcoexistence,alongwiththesparkthatfiresyour
creativityandgrowth.”
Wecanfeeltheceremonyisnearingitsend.Whendowegettothekissingpart?Naj
asksthecrowdtojoininthepronouncement,repeatingeachlineafterher.Shaman
GuyandIleanintokisseachotherasthecrowdsaystogether,
“Wewhoarephysicallypresent...
andthosewhoarepresentinthoughtorspirit,...
aswitnessestothemakingpublic...”
Ourlipsarehoveringmillimetersfromeachother.Wewaitinadelicioussuspended
state.
“thisbondunitingyou,...
nowpronounceyou,...”
Comeon!Almost…
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“ShamanGirlandShamanGuy…
wifeandhusband,husbandandwife.”
Wefallintoeachotherandshareasweet,deepkiss,sealingtheagreementwith
body,mind,andsoul.ThecrowdbreaksoutinaroarandJackthrowsinafewbarks
forgoodmeasure.
ThreeofourMiofriends,whohavevoiceslikeangels,steptocenterstageto
serenadethecrowdwithasongthatoneofMio’sstudentswrote,basedononeof
hisprayers.NajtellsthecrowdthattheceremonyisoverandthatShamanGuyandI
aregoingtoheadtotheedgeofthebluffforafewminutestoourselves,soeveryone
cansitbackandenjoythesong.
ShamanGuyandIwantafewminutestocreateourownceremonywithinour
wedding.Toabsorbwhatwehadjustcreatedandfullyclaimitasourown.HeandI
eachpickuparockfromoursacredstonecircleandheadtotheedgeofthecliff.
Overthepastfewmonths,we’vebeenjokingabout“makingleapsoffaith”and
“livingontheedge”(ShamanGuy’sfavoritewaytolive).Itfeelsrighttobestanding
attheedgeoftheworld,lookingoutatthevastocean.
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“Areyoureadytomakethisdreamareality?”ShamanGuyasksme.“Becausefrom
thisdayforward,thisishowIintendtolive.”
“Areyouready?”Icounterwithasmile.
“Ohya!Onthecountofthree…one…two…three…”andwiththosewords,wehuck
ourstonesasfaroutintotheocean,intotheunknownaswecan.Withallourintent,
wesurrenderourselvestothedivine.
TheAftermath
Yourbodyisawonderland
Yourbodyisawonder
Yourbodyisawonderland
Iknowthatyouaremineallmineallmine
JohnMayer’slyricsarepumpingoutofthestereosystematTransformU.Shaman
Guyhasmepulledintight,ourbodiesperfectlysnugglingwitheachotheraswe
bouncetothebeatofthemusic.
ThisisthesongthatShamanGuyplayedonhistruckstereoafterthefirsttimeI
turneddownhisweddingproposal.Wasthatreallyonlylessthanayearago?My
howtimeshavechanged.
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It’saballsychoicefor“oursong”atthereception.We’rebasicallyadvertisingour
sexualchemistryforeachothertothecrowd,whichisofcourselacedwithfamily
members.Andoursexyadisnotjustwiththewords,butwiththeheatthatis
radiatingoffusaswedance.
ButIdon’tcare.Iamdeliriouslyhappy.Relievedthatwepulledoffaweddingfor
familyandfriendsandeveryoneisstillspeaking,stillfamily,andstillfriends.Wasit
justafewyearsagothatWappyandBazerstagedTheInterventionandnowhere
theyarepartyingatEwokCentral?
Thecrowdisbuzzing,whetherfromthefood,libations,orlove.Andohyes,thereis
talkgoinground.OurMiofriendsreportthatsomeclustersoffamilyarequestioning
whetherornotwereallyaremarried.Notbecausetheyhadaninklingaboutthe
lackofamarriagecertificate,butbecausetheceremonywassooutthereforthem.
Whatwasthat??Themindsareworkingovertime.
Theirdoubtisalsobasedonaminorblooperonourpart.WhenShamanGuyandI
exchangedrings,weputthemonourrighthands.Thistimeweweren’ttryingto
makeastatement,wewerejustclueless(I’mtellingyou,Imissedoutonthe
dreamingaboutthewhiteweddinggene.)Apparentlyweddingringsusuallygoon
yourlefthand.Whoops.
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Nomatter,ShamanGuyandIaredancingupastorm,circlingthecrowdtoreceive
the“congratulations”andcelebratingthestartofournewlife.Hottie,PinkandLini
transformedthespaceintoafestive,decorativeweddinghall.ThefoodfromLa
SalsaFreshisdelicious.Thecakedivine.Thecookietableispiledhigh,but
dwindlingquickly.KaiandBeavisaredartinginandoutofthecrowdgettinginto
minortroubleastheygo.Lifeisgood.
TheclockstuckmidnightlongagoandShamanGuyandIarereadytogobacktothe
hoteldownthestreet.Wesayourgoodbyesandmakeourwaytoourroom.Mygirls
ofcoursehavesnuckinandadornedthebedwithrosepetalsandchampagne.
ShamanGuyandIplopontopofthebed,feelinghowexhaustedweare.We’vejust
createdamajorceremony,onparwiththeonesthatgodowninMarzi,andbrought
friendsandfamily,willingornot,alongfortheride.Thistakesenergyandweare
bushed.
Butourbodiesarewonderlandsandthisisourweddingnight…numbertwo.There
isonethingwe'velefttodo.Discoverme,discoveringyou.Wewantlove.Sowe'll
makeit.Swimminginadeepseaofblankets.We’vetakenallourbigplansandbroke
them.Thisisboundtobeawhile…
TheAsk
Idigmyfeetalittledeeperinthesand,wishingIcouldburymyentirebodyina
deephole.Myheartispoundingsoloudlythatitdrownsoutthesoundofthewaves
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poundingontheshore.Ipushmyhandsdownintothesandtoo.Theyareshaking.I
restmychinonmyknees,takeadeepbreath,andturntofaceShamanGuy.I’m
finallyabouttoask.
Overthepastfewweeks,ShamanGuyandIhavebeensettlingintomarriedlife,but
lifehasbeenanythingbutsettled.KaifinishedouthisschoolyearinCalifornia,then
returnedtoNewJerseytospendthesummerwithhismother.ShamanGuyandI
hadthefreedomtoroamourvillaandwetookadvantage,exploringeverynookand
cranny–whenhewasn’tworking,thatis.
ShamanGuy’scarpentrytalentswerefinallybeingputtouse.TheLovelyLlama
Lady,afellowEwokwhoownedabeautifulpropertyeastofus,hometoherself,her
puppa,andseveralofherllamas,hiredShamanGuytogobacktoswinginga
hammer.Hewasinchargeofrenovatinghercasita,asaseriesoflandscapingand
otherimprovementssimultaneouslyhappenedonherland.SoShamanGuywasa
workingmanonceagain,gettingupandoutthedooreachmorning,andreturning
eacheveninghotandhungry.
I,ontheotherhand,wasnolongeremployed.Mio’sfamilydecidedtoshutdownhis
non-profitfoundationsinceMiowasmoreretiredthannotafterhisheartattack.We
workedoutagenerousseverancepackage.Igleefullyannouncedmygoodnewsto
ShamanGuy.“Icouldliveayearonthisamount!,”Imarvel.
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ShamanGuyshakeshisheadandlaughs,“MaybeYOUcouldmylove.Butwiththree
ofusnow,andKaiinprivateschool,thatwon’tlastusmorethanamonthortwo.”I
wasshocked.Ourlivingexpenseswereawholedifferentworldthanminehadbeen.
AndIhadtoadjusttothethoughtofnojob–forthefirsttimesinceIwas16(maybe
youngerifyoucountedalltheyearsI“worked”forBazer).
Givenournewfinancialsituation,we’vebeentalkingaboutwheretogofromhere.
Ourleaseonthevillawasnearinganendandtherentnowseemedmorethanwe
couldhandlewithoutmyincome.DidwewanttostayormoveclosertoShaman
Guy’sbelovedEncinitas,thebeach,andKai’sschool?WhatwouldShamanGuydo
afterLovelyLlamaLady’sjobendedcomefall?
Thequestionswereswirling,stirringuppossibilities.Theanswertoourliving
situationcameknocking,ratherloudly,clearlyandliterally,inthemiddleofthe
night.ShamanGuyandIawoketo“BANG!BANG!BANG!”Webothawokewitha
startandsatupinbed.“Whatisthat?”mymindwhirledgroggily.Aburglar?Awild
animal?Amonster?
ShamanGuyjumpedoutofbedtoinvestigate.Itwascomingfromthegrateinthe
wallnearthesideofourbed.“Whatisthat?”Ishriekedagainasthebanging
continued.ShamanGuygrabbedaflashlightandthrewthelightinthedirectionof
thegrate.Twobeadyeyespeeredbackatus.Drat!Theratswereback.
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Lastspring(whileAirManwasstillmymainman),themosthideousstenchstarted
emanatingfrombelowthepatioandupintothefirstfloorkitchen/dining
room/livingroom.WefirstcalledShamanGuyasourhandymanandhesaidhe
suspectedadeadrat.Anexterminatorwascalled.Weheldthedubioushonorof
havingthebiggestrattheyhadeverseenbeextracted-tothecriesof“OhmyGod!”
and“Holycrap!”Whiletheysettrapsandbait,theysaidthatshortofcuttingdown
allthelusciousfruittreesthatgrewonthepropertyandoverhungthehouse,we
wouldcontinuetohaverats.Thatwasobviouslynotgoingtohappen.Whilenot
wantingtorepeatmydaysoflivinginWatts,theratsstoppedstinkingandbecame
lessevidentsoIhadforgottenallaboutthem–untilnow.
ShamanGuywasnotamused.“Thatdecidesit,”hesaid.“Wearemovingandyouare
sleepingclosesttothegrateuntilthen.”“What!?!”Ishrieked.“Whathappenedtomy
gallantprotector?”“Hewillbeatyourside,onthefarsideofthebed,wherehehas
alwaysslept,”ShamanGuyreplied.(Wehadbeendukingoutwhichsideofthebed
was“his”versus“her”sideaswebothhadalwayssleptonthesameside.)Well,at
leastwehadclarityontwoissues–oursleepingarrangementsinbedandmoving
outofourrattyhome.
Thefewweeksofworkinclosingdownthefoundation,lookingforanewhome,and
drivingKaibackandforthtoschool,keptmepreoccupiedforabit.ButthenIhadto
figureoutwhatIwasgoingtodowithmyself–anddeterminewhereweweregoing
toliveinanon-rat-infestedhouse.
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Withtheweddingover,Kaitakencareof,andShamanGuyatworkeachday,Ispent
alotoftimestaringintospaceandDreaming.Iwasn’tusedtohavinglotsoftimeon
myhandsandyetIfeltadeepneedtositandbestillaftermywhirlwindromance
overthepastfewmonths.Ineededtocatchupwithmyselfandintegrateallthe
energythathadbeenflyingaround.Iwasconfidentthatafteraweekortwoof
“doingnothing,”I’dbereadyandrearingtogoagain.I’dfindanotherjob,another
house,andwe’dlivehappilyeverafterinoursunny,SouthernCaliforniadream.
Right?
(Needlescratchingacrosstherecord.)
Wrong.Way,waywrong.
AsIbegantopokearoundinternally,Ifeltamassiveexhaustionlurkingbelowthe
surface.Yes,Iwastiredofoverworkingandoverachievingandpush,push,pushing
tobesuccessfulinmyworklife.Butunderneaththisexhaustion,Iwasoh-so-tiredof
beingLittleMissIndependent.
Ihadtakentremendousprideonbeingabletomovethousandsofmilesawayfrom
myfamilyandtakecareofmyselfinbig,badLosAngeles.Iwasanupstanding
professionalwhowentbeyondjustteachingintheinner-city(asifthatwasn’t
enough).Itookonwritingandafter-schoolprogramsandspiritualenlightenment.
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AlthoughIhadprettymuchalwayshadaboyfriend,Inever“needed”one.Icould
takecareofmyself!Thankyouverymuch.SosometimesIendeduptakingcareof
myboyfriendsfinanciallyaswell.
MuchlikeWappyhadwhenIwaslittle,IwasplayingSuperWomanwithamore
modern,morespiritualtwist.MyGoodGirlwhosowantedtopleaseandbeloved
hadmorphedonceagain.AndIwastiredofplayinganoutdatedrole.
Iwasalsohorrified.WhatwoulditmeanifIdidn’twanttojumpbackintoworking?
WhatwouldIdowithmyself?HowwouldIsurvive?Paythebills?Domyshare?
WhatwouldShamanGuythink?Icameintothemarriagewithasmalldowryinthe
formofmyseverance,abletofloatusuntilhefoundwork,andnowwhat?
Asmymindcontemplatedmysituation,Ifeltcrazytoevenconsidernotworking.It
didn’tmakeanysense.Wewere$50,000increditcarddebt.Itwashardenoughto
findajob,soshouldn’tIstartlookingnow?Wasitobnoxiousandself-centerednot
towantto?NotmanypeopleevenhavetheoptiontoconsidernotworkingandI
wasn’tsurethatwequalifiedtobeaone-incomefamilywithsomuchdebt.
Myinsideswerechurning.CouldIbe“enough”ifIdidn’twork?WouldIstillbe
loveable?Identifyingasaself-sufficientwomanwaslikebreathingtome.Icould
hardlyseparatewhoIwasfrommyworkingself.WouldIbecomeahousewife?
CouldIbejustmeandnothingelse?
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Andyetmyheartwasonceagainaskingmetoletgoofbeingrationalandfollowit’s
mysteriouscallings.“Itmightnotmakeanysense,”itwhispered,“butitwillbe
alright.”CouldIreallytrustmyintuitionatthislevel?Inmygut,itfeltliketheright
waytogo.Somehowitevenseemedtobethewayoutofourfinancialdilemma,butI
certainlywouldn’twanttoexplainthemathonthatonetomyaccountantfather.
Theserumblingsandfearspreoccupiedmebyday.Luckilyatnight,ShamanGuy
washalf-heatstrokedandtootiredtopickuponthedepthofmyinternalanguish.
Forafewweeks,Idon’tthinkIcouldhavearticulatedwhatwasgoingonifItried.It
wasmysteriousandbafflingandreallyfrighteningtoevencontemplate,letalone
speakaloud.
ButofcourseShamanGuycouldn’tbeputoffforlong.Fromthemomentwemet,he
seemedtohaveasixthsenseaboutwhenIwasemotionallyoutofwhack.Aftera
fewsemi-successfulattemptsatbrushingoffthecrackingwithin,Ifoundmyselfon
thebeachwithShamanGuy’sfullattention.
AsIturnmyfacetowardShamanGuy,Iseealltheloveinhiseyes.Buthisbrow
quicklyfurrowswhenheseesthetearsstreamingdownmyface.“What’swrong?”
heinquiressotenderly.
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Itakeafewshudderingbreaths.Ican’tbelievethatI’mabouttosaythis.Itfeelslike
theearthisgoingtocrackopenandswallowmeup.Ifinallymanage,“Idon’twant
toworkanymore.”Ittakesmemorethanonetrytosaythisclearlyenoughfor
ShamanGuytounderstandmethroughmysniffles.Itakeafewdeepbreaths.“Ifeel
likeIneedtostopworking,togowithininareallydeepway.I’mtiredofbeingthe
GoodGirl,theoverachiever,theindependentone.Iwanttoexplorewhatitmeansto
beinthefeminine.”(DidIreallyjustsaythat?)
ShamanGuyisstrokingmyhair,tuckingitbehindmyear.“Okay,”hesaystakingit
allin.
Ifeelacrackinginsideofme,awhoosh,alettinggo.IprayShamanGuycancatch
me.Steppingin,inthisway,feelslikeadeepeningofeveryteachingI’vereceived
overthepastfewyears.AnditfeelsscarybecauseIhavenoideawhatthismeans,
whatthislookslike,orwhereitwilltakeme.
Ifindmycourageandtaketheleap.Afterallthat’swhatShamanGuyandIpromised
eachotheratourwedding,right?CanIreallykeepgoing?Ihavetoask.Icandothis.
“Canyoubeinchargeoftakingcareofusfinancially?”Ifinallyask,lookingdeepinto
hisblueeyes.
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Helooksatmeforalongsecond,thenheturnsandfacestheocean.Forwhatseems
likeeternity,Ifeelhimconsideringhisanswer.Thisisfarfromalogisticalquestion.
WhatIamaskingisthathefullyassumetheroleofthemasculine.Tobetheleader,
tohaveavisionofourlives,andtoberesponsibleforexecutingit.Thisisnosmall
ask.IamchallenginghimtostepupinanewwayasIstepwithin.
AftergazingatShamanGuyforanotherminute,Iturntofacetheoceanaswell.I
closemyeyesandfeelthefamiliartugofenergythathappenswhenheandImerge.
Iexpandoutintotheocean,becomeasdeepandvastasitis.Iamthechoppywaves
andthecalmwatersbelow.Iamthewindripplingoverthesurfaceandthesealife
swimmingthroughthedepths.IammovementandflowandbigandabundantandI
amjustbeingmyself,aswater.
IfeelShamanGuylookingbackatme,thewomansittingonthebeach,digginginto
thesandsoIdirectmyattentionbacktomybodyandbacktothismanthatIlove.
“Yes,”heissaying,“Yes,Icandothat.”
“Thankyou,”Inodandfeelahugewaveofreliefwashoverme.
“But….”Therewasalongpause.“Thatmeansthatwearegoingtoneedtomoveto
MarbleheadwhereIcaneasilygetacarpentryjobandrestartmybusiness.”
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Nowitwasmyturntofacetheoceanandbequiet.Thiswasn’twhatIwasthinking.I
wantedforShamanGuytosupportmeandtostayinsunny,comfortable,familiar
SouthernCalifornia.IhadabsolutelynodesiretomovebackEast–threethousand
milesaway-andrejointheworldofwinters.Ididn’twanttoleavemyspiritual
communityormyfriends.Mymindkeptspinning.Ihadneverevenbeento
Marblehead.WhatifitIdidn’tlikeit?Ididn’tknowanyonethere,didn’thaveany
friends,didn’thaveanycontactstogetajob,shouldIfeelreadytorejointhe
workadayworld.
“I’dreallyliketostayhere,”Ifinallysay.
“Iknowmylove.Butifyouareaskingmetosupportyouandourfamily,thenIneed
todothatwhereIknowIcanbemostsuccessful.AndthatplaceisMarblehead.”
ShamanGuywasclear.Clearnotonlyinwheremademostsensefinancially,butI
couldalsofeelhisclarityinassumingtheroleofbeingtheonewhocarriedthe
focused,directed,outwardoriented,masculineenergyinourrelationship.
IlookedatShamanGuy,seeinghimanew.Inthatinstant,Ifeltanenergeticdipand
flip.Wetradedroles.Whenwecametogether,Ihadbeentheoneworkingandoutin
theworldastheheadofanon-profitfoundation.ShamanGuyhadbeeninavery
inwardspace,spendingmostofhisdaysalone,meditating,beingwithhimselfand
hisprocess.Ihadbeensittinginamoremasculineenergyandheinamorefeminine
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one.Inaskingforwhatmyheartwasdesiring,weflip-flopped.Ilookedalittle
harder,assessingwhetherShamanGuywasupforthejob.
Oh,yes.Hesurewas.Hewaspuremasculinity.Andinmyasking,andhimaccepting,
Icouldseethatwewerepropellinghimonhisnextphaseoftransformationaswell.
Therealquestion,ofcourse,whatIupformyrole?Ihadneverbeenagirly-girland
hadfewmodelsofwhatitmeanttobeinthefeminineenergyinastrong,centered
way,inrelationshipwithastrongman.WouldIfollowinthefootstepsofthenagual
womenbeforeme?WouldIblazemyowntrail?
Forthefirsttimeinmylife,Ifelttotallyoutoftheknow.Iwanteddesperatelyto
takeitallback,tostayinmycomfortzone.Bymyheartsaidotherwise.IknewI
wantedmypersonalfreedom,thatIwantedtoknowmyselfauthenticallyatmycore
morethanIcaredaboutwhereIlivedorwhatjobIhad.
Itookadeepbreath(thefirstofmany),putmyhandinShamanGuy’s,laidmyhead
onhisshouldersandburstintotears.WeweremovingtoMarblehead.
HeadingBackEast
ShamanGuylikestosaythatifyoulookcloselyalongInterstate70,youwillseeheel
marksthatrunacrossthecountry.Thosewouldbemine.
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IwouldliketosaythatIwasjumpingforjoyathavingbeengrantedmyheart’s
desire–totaketimeoffworktobeabletogowithin.ButthetruthwasIfeltlikeI
hadjustsentencedmyselftoSiberia.Iwasbeingbanishedtoacold,barrenfriendlessland,aboutasfarfromSanDiegoasyoucouldgoandstillbewithinthe
continentalUnitedStates.WhatwasIthinking?ThetruthwasthatIwasn’tthinking
–Iwasfollowingmyheart.
TherewerequitealotoftearsasIcalledthemovingcompanyandscheduleda
movebackEast–thistimeforreal.MorewaterworksasIbrokethenewstoPink,
Lini,andTita.SecretlyIwasprayingthatsomeonewouldstopme.Ievenwentto
seeMio,hopinghewouldsay,“Noyoucan’tdothat.Weneedyouhere.”Butalas,no,
Miodoesn’tmeddle,Iwasn’tindispensibleinhisworld,andinsteadhesays,“That’s
wonderfulsweetheart!WeneedgoodteachersontheEastCoast.”Itwashardnotto
scowl.ShamanGuyandIhadjustearnedthedubioushonorofbeingthefirstof
Mio’steacherstoliveandteachontheEastCoast.ThatwasoneprizeIhadn’tbeen
lookingfor.
ShamanGuyandIweremovingthecircusEast–andIhadneverseenwherewe
weregoingtolive.
ShamanGuyassuredmethatIwouldfallinlovewithMarblehead.Hewassoexcited
toshowmeCrockerParkandFortSewall!WaituntilthereisaNor’easter!Thetown
issocute.Youcanwalkeverywhere.Onandonhewouldgo.Iwouldmerelylookat
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himdubiously.IhadvowednevertomovebackEast,tostartwiththerewasthe
coldandsnow.Andsecondly,therewasmorecoldandmoresnow.Therewasalso
thestodgy,conservativestereotypethatdidn’tappealtomyfreespiritselfandthat
couldbefoundinPittsburgh,whichisstillagood575miles,or12hourdrive,from
NewEngland.TheplacewherethePuritanslanded.WhereanevenharsherNew
EnglanderattitudeanddidImentionwinter?weresaidtoexist.
Totopitalloff,MarbleheadliesadjacenttoSalem,MA.Asintheplaceofthewitch
trialsthatendedwithwitchesbeingburnedatthestake.Asadistantcousintomy
witchsoulsisters,myShamanGirlselfwasalittlecreepedouttobereturningtothe
sceneofthecrime.Andtheyweren’twitchcrimes,asweallnowknow.
SoShamanGuythoughtfullyorderedUlrikeWelsch’sMarblehead,agorgeouscoffee
tablephotographybookthatdocumentedMarbleheadinallitssplendor.Thebook
singsMarblehead’shistory(whichisextensive),itswaterfront(whichisdrop-dead
gorgeous),andtown(adorablewithitshistorichomes,eachwiththeirdapper
windowboxes,quaintstorefronts,andcastoftowncharacters).Quitefranklythe
townwaspictureperfect.Itlookedmagical.Andthatworriedme.Howcouldatown
thatlooksthisperfectactuallybethisperfect?
Worseyet,I’dheardrumorsaboutMarblehead’ssocialscene.Ifyoudidn’tbelongto
ayachtclub,thenyouweresociallyostracized.Ihadenoughcountryclubsnobbery
frommychildhoodandwasn’tatallinterestedinboats,soIofcoursewonderedif
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I’devermakefriends.WouldanyonebeinterestedinShamanGirlstuff?WouldI
findanyotherShamanGirlsthere?OrevensomeoneIcouldrelateto?
Withaheavyheart,wepackedandpurgedandplannedforournewlife.Withlotsof
tearygood-byes,wepulledoutofEscondidowithShamanGuy’sElGatoNegrotruck
piledtothebrimandGorditainthebackseat.KaiwouldmeetusinBostonbefore
thestartoftheschoolyear.WewereheadingbackEast,retracingShamanGuy’s
driveinreversefromalittlemorethanayearago.Onlythistime,insteadofhim
cryinghiswayacrossthecountry,Iwas.
WedrovedowntoMoonlightBeach,wherewehadsharedourvisionofgetting
marriedinMarziwitheachother,justafewmonthsago.ThesightofthePacific
broughtmoretearstomyeyes.AlthoughIwasn’tmuchofanoceanswimmeror
surfer,thePacifichadbeenaconstant,stablepresenceinmylifesinceIhadlanded
onitsshoresrightoutofcollege.ShamanGuyreassuredmethatwe’dbeclosetothe
waterinMarblehead.Iwantedtowail,“Butitwon’tbethesame!”Instead,Igently
toldmyvictimtoholdhertongue.Icouldn’tblameShamanGuyforourmove.This
wasmychoiceasmuchashis.
Aswehittheinterstate,ShamanGuyreachedoverandsqueezedmyhand.Inhis
deep,richvoicehesaid,“TheVikingcamefromtheEast,foundthemostbeautiful
maideninalltheland,anddraggedherbacktohishome,wheretheylivedhappily
everafter.”
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Ilookedbackoverathim,“NotfunnyGilga,”Isaidinmymosthaughtyvoice.Buta
smallsmiledidcreepacrossmylipsbecauseonceagainShamanGuyhadprobably
justcalleditlikeitwas.
PitStopsAlongMemoryLane
Firststop–LasVegas.AlthoughIwasstressingthatwewerefinancingourmove
Eastoncreditcards,ShamanGuypointedoutthatyoudon’tdrivecross-country
everyday.Ifyou’relucky,maybeyougetafewtripsinyourlifetime.Plus,he
pointedout,ifweareabundantasweprofessweare,thenweneedtoactit(despite
thecontraryasevidencedbyourbankstatements).Sotherewouldbenomaddash
acrossthecountry,nostayinginbed-bug-riddenhotels.Isighedandsurrendered.
Hewasinthedriver’sseat,bothmetaphoricallyandliterallyandIwasalongforthe
ride.
Thiswascross-countrytripnumbertwoformeandwewerere-tracingtherouteI
tookwhenImovedwesttojoinTeachforAmerica.ShamanGuy’scountwasquitea
bithigher.Hehadhitch-hitchedacrossthegoodol’U.S.ofA.afewtimesinhis
youth.Butthat’sdefinitelyanotherstory,ormoreaccuratelyanotherslewofstories
andtheyaredoozies.
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Wemadetheeasydriveintothelandofglitzandglitterandwhathappenshere,
stayshere.AsVegas’lightscameintoview,Imarveledathomemuchhadchanged
fromwhenIarrivedonitssceneandmetmyTFAhomiesalmostadecadeago.Ihad
bombedintotown,doe-eyedandfullofvimandvigor,readytotakeonthe
problemsoftheinner-city.Ihadjustdippedmetoeintotheworldofsynchronicity
andserendipity.Zip-pa-dee-doo-da.
Ihadnoideathatmylifewasheadingawayfromthelogical,therational,theGood
Girlgoestosavetheworldinallherglory,andintothesupernatural,thespiritual,
theShamanGirlemergestofollowherheartandsoulintotheunknown.Ihardly
recognizedmyselfinthetransformation.
Isawanimageofatinycreektricklingintotheocean.Thecreekhadnoideawhere
itwasheadedorthatitwouldbeswallowedupinthevastnessoftheocean.Yes,the
creekandtheoceanarebothmadeofwaterbutthesimilaritiesbetweenthetwoare
hardtodiscernotherwise.Likewise,Iembodiedthevastnessoftheseainmyspirit
andnolongerrelatedtothedrytrickleofacreekthatIoncewas.
HereIwastravellingthroughVegasinreverse,nineyearslater,marriedtoa
shaman.Itwascrazy.Mind-boggling.Whatwouldjourneyingthroughthisporthole
inthedesertbringontheothersideyearsfromnow?Icouldn’tevenfathomaguess,
buttrusteditwouldbeatleastasspectacularasthepastnineyears.Probablymore
sonowthatIhadembracedmybadshamanselfinallit’scrazyglory.
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ShamanGuyandIsettledintoahotelawayfromthebustleofthestripandsnuck
Gordaintoourroom.Welefttoeatandseethesightsonlytoreturnafewhours
latertoquiteahorrifyingsight–Gordahadfreakedoutwhileweweregone.Atfirst
glance,ourroomlookedlikeaheavymetalbandhadtrashedtheroom.The
bedspreadswereballedonthefloor,towelsstrewnaround.Carpetripped,door
trimpulledback.
ShamanGuywasnotamused,“Thehotelisgoingtochargeusafortunetogetthis
fixed!”QuitefranklyhewasreadytohireaVegashitmantomurderGordaand
leaveherinadarkalleybehindourhotel.Orhecouldjustusehisbarehands…Ihad
abitmorecompassionforourfrightenedpupwhohadneverbeenleftinastrange
roomonabizarretrip.Wiselyseeingtheneedtoescortheronalongwalk,we
disappearedwhileShamanGirlmumbledandcursedhiswaytothetrucktopullout
histoolbag.
WhenGorda,withheadhunglow,andIreturned,theroomwasbackinorderand
somehowShamanGuyhadrepairedallthedamage.Otherthanafewscratcheson
thepaint,theroomlookednoworseforwear.ShamanGuyhadcalmeddown–a
little.Iquipped,“Seewemakeagoodteam!”andShamanGuygrumbled.Amazingly
thehoteldidnotnoticeanythingamissandweavoidaddingabiggerloadtoour
debt.Allwaswell,buttheroadtripdidnotseemtobestartingoutbrimmingwith
loveorbeautifulco-winky-dinks.
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Mioandhisboyswereintownsothenextmorningwemetthemforbreakfastata
localdiner.Aswelaughedandbanteredwithhissons,whowerelikesoulbrothers
tous,Iwasstruckagainatthetransformationinmylife.FirsttimeinVegas,Ihad
justpickedupthefirstspiritualbookthatIeverread.Now,Iwassittingwithoneof
thebestsellingauthorsofoneofthemostsimpleandprofoundspiritualbooksthat
hadbeenwritteninthelastdecade.Hewasmyshaman,mylastemployer,andmy
friend.
Weheadedouttotheparkinglotforaroundofhugs,goodwishes,andbackslaps.
WeletGordaoutofthetrucktostretchherlegs.Butatthesight(orsmell)ofMio
andtheboys,hertaildrooped,shestartedshaking,andhigh-taileditbackintothe
cab.Thatelicitedaroundof“PoorGordita’s”fromall.Shemusthavebeenworried
thatshewasbeingabandonedagain!
Gorda’sshakingsubsidedasweputmilesbetweenusandVegas.Myfearsaboutthe
futurewerelulledtoobythesoothingswayofElGatoandthecomfortofhaving
ShamanGuybymyside.
Ipulledoutsomeknittingneedles,yarn,andahow-tobook.Iwasdeterminedto
makethebestofthelongdriveandknitascarfintheprocess.AtleastI’dhaveone
warmitemuponourarrivalinNewEngland.ButashardasItried,Icouldnotfigure
outhowtotranslatethedetailedstep-by-stepdrawingsinthebookintotheknitting
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actionwithmyhands.IsetasidetheknittinginfrustrationandhopedIcouldfinda
yarnstorealongthatwaythatwouldbewillingtogivemeaquicklesson.
Iturnedmyattentiontothelandscape.WewereenteringUtahandweappearedto
bedrivingthroughanareathatIimaginedwouldbesimilartothemoon’s.Sovast
andpockmarked.Hoursofdrivinglater,wewereinredrockcountry.Wewouldbe
takingadetouroffthemainhighwaytoBoulder,Utah,tostayattheBoulder
MountainLodge,whereShamanGuy’sbrotherinsistedwehadtostay.Ontheway,
wepulledoffatalookoutandthesignsaidthattheareathatlaybeforeuswasasbig
asthestateofConnecticut.
AsIlookedoutoverendlesssquare-miles,myworriesfadedawaywiththewind.
Anythoughtsinmyheadseemedsoinsignificantcomparedtowhatwasinfrontof
me.Whateverforcehadcreatedthismagnificence,hadalsocreatedlittleoldme.I
closedmyeyesandinhaledthisknowing.
Themorethelittleoldmeletgoandgotoutoftheway,themorelifeopenedup,
streamingthroughtheBigMe.Iofferedmysmallthoughtsandworriestothe
beautyandperfectionthatwasevidentallaround.Isaidaprayer,vowingtokeep
goingonthisjourneywithanopenmindandopenheart,toletallthejoyand
abundanceinbecauseitalreadywasinherentlyflowinginme.Itwastimetocreate
mylifeasatrueShamanGirl.
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Wepressedonandifwehadblinked,wecouldhavedriventhroughBoulder,Utah
andneverknowwemissedit.Thereisnostoplight,noATM,nogrocerystoreor
medicalfacility.Thereareafewhouses,lotsofdust,apostofficeandtheBoulder
MountainLodge,attachedtotheHell’sBackboneKitchen.Wherethehellhas
ShamanGuy’sbrothersentus?
Butassoonaswestepontotheproperty,wearetransfixedbythequalityofenergy
thatexistsatthisluxuryhotelinthemiddleofnowhere.Setamidstabackdropof
redrocks,theWesternstylelodgeisanunexpectedoasis.Weeagerlyexplorethe
grounds,withitsbuildingsperfectlydesignedforthegrounds,atemptinghottub,
thewideinvitingdecks.Anditisdog-friendlysoGordacanromparoundwithoutus
sneakingherintoaroomorleavinghertoherowndeviceslockedinside.
Likeamagnet,Hell’sBackboneKitchendrawsusinandweareenraptured.We
settleinforabeyonddelicious,organic,locallyraised,seasonalyummyyummy
meal.Wediscovertheunlikelystorybehindthisplace–it’sawomen-owned,[check
iftheyarelesbian]Buddhist-basedrestaurantinasmallMormontown.Aftera
struggleforunderstandingandacceptanceinaconservativecommunity,the
restauranthasbecomeananchorforthetown.Thefoodmeltsinourmouths;you
canfeeltheloveandcarethatwentintopreparingit.ShamanGuyandIwill
definitelybeeatingallourmealshere!Notthatthereareotheroptions,butwho
wouldwanttomissoutonthis?
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Onawhim,Iaskthewaitressifsheknowshowtoknit.Shedoesnot,buttellsme
thatoneoftheotherguestsisaknitter–andaschoolteacher.Assoonasshecomes
inforherbreakfast,shewillintroducethetwoofus.SoonK1P2(KnitOne,Purl
Two)appearsandshehasmyneedlesclick-clackingawaydoubletimewhilewe
swapstoriesaboutteaching.I’vemadeadelightfulnewfriend.
Laterthatday,ShamanGuyandIsinkintothehottubafteralonghike.Wearequiet
foralongtime,savoringthehotsoakunderastarrysky.Thenwebothspeakatthe
sametime,“Thisis…”Wesmileateachother.“Youfirst…”“No,you…”
FinallyItakethelead,“ThisisthekindofplaceI’dliketocreateoneday.Not
necessarilyahotelandrestaurant,butthevibeofthisplace.Icanfeelalltheintent
andcreativitythatwentintohere.Thebeautyoftheland,theuniquearchitecture
anddecorations…Oneday,I’dlovetobuildaretreatcenterthatisconnectedtoa
communityandreallywelcomespeopletocomeandexperiencetheirtruestselves
andtheirconnectiontotheEarth.”
Onceagainitiscomfortablyandpeacefullyquiet.Theonlysoundscomingfromthe
insectsandanimalsnearby.LazilyIaskShamanGuy,“Nowwhatwhereyougoingto
say?”
“Thesame,mylove,theverysamething.”
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Irelaxdeeperintothelushnessofthewarmwater,myheadtiltedback,restingon
thesideandmyfeetfloatinginthecenter.WhenIclosemyeyes,Ifeelmyselffalling
backwardsintoadream.Myhairextendsout,flowinglikewater.Thecurlsturninto
eddies,whereIcatchaglimpseoffuturetimes.Morethanreceivinganyconcrete
images,Ifeelourfutureunfurlingbeforeus.Spreadingourlove,ourmessage,
touchingtheheartsofotherswhoarelike-mindedandlike-hearted.Drawingthem
in,makingfriends,empoweringeachothertoreachforthestarsandcreateour
wildestdreams.
TheBoulderMountainLodgeandHell’sBackboneKitchenembodymyhopesforthe
future:community,creativity,connection,beauty,peace,consciousness.Theyhave
beautifullycombinedtheirspiritualpracticeintoapractical,tangiblepartoftheir
everydaylives.Theyhavewelcomedus,andsomanyothertravellers,intotheir
business/homeandwewillcarryabitofthemwithus,nurturingtheseedthathas
beenplanted.
Withabitofreluctanceandapromisetoreturnoneday,wepackupandpoint
ourselvesEast.IhugK1P2goodbyeandthankherprofusely.NotonlydoIhavea
newskillandawaytoentertainmyselffortherestofourdrive,butshehasrestored
myfaithaboutusbeingintheflow.Askandyoushallreceive.
OurnextstopisGlenwoodSprings,whereweagainindulgeinhotwaters.TheUte
NativeAmericanscalledthesewaters“bigmedicine”andasIsinkintothenatural
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springsthatarenowcontainedwithinapoolthelengthoftwocityblocks,Icertainly
understandthename.Igiveashout-outofthanksformygoodfortune.Imightnot
bethrilledaboutourdestination,butIwasdefinitelyenjoyingthejourney.Itfeltas
ifanunseenhandwasscoopingusupanddroppingusdowninoneperfectlocation
afteranother.Couldwelivelikethisforever?Prettyplease?
Whenwehittheroadthefollowingday,ShamanGuydecidedwe’dtakeaslight
detourtoBoulder,Colorado.IhadneverbeenanditwaswhereShamanGuystarted
onhisspiritualpath…over20yearsago.WhileIwaswearinganawkwardmiddleschoolhairstyleandbraces,ShamanGuywasrunningaroundBoulderinbarefeet
withawoodensamuraiswordstrappedtohisback,studyingchikung(nowoften
spelledqigong)andkungfuwithamaster.Itwasnostretchoftheimaginationto
seeayoung,virileShamanGuyabsorbedinthelifestyleofapeacefulwarrior,living
andbreathingChinesemedicineandraisingaruckuswithhisconsciousness-raising
buddies.
Asoftspotremainedinhisheartforthistownthathasnowbecomeknownasoneof
themostliberal,crunchygranola,alternativelifestyle,greencitiesontheplanet.Itis
practicallyrequiredbylawthatacrystalworkshoporgoddessseminarbeoffered
onanhourlybasis.Iwasbothexcitedandalittlewary.
ShamanGuyfirsttakesmedowntoBoulderCreekandIfallinlovewiththe
bubblinglittlewonderthatwindsitswaythroughtownandpastthelibrary.I’m
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enamoredbythebreast-feeding,sling-wearingmamaswhoarefrolickingbythe
rocksalongitsside.Ismileatthehippiesthatwhizoverthefootbridgeontheir
mountainbikes.Studentswithheavybackpacks,theoccasionalbusinessman
wanderbyaswell.
Aswesitintheshadeofthetreesalongthecreekbed,lettingthechildren’slaughter
washoverus,ShamanGuyhasmecrackingupwithtalesfromhisponytailwearing
days.Itisnothardtoseethetrajectoryfromhisyoungerselftonow.AsIdriftback
intime,Iwatchashisroughedgessoften,hisintegritygrowsstrongerandbrighter,
andheemergesmorefullyintohimself.Icannotpictureustogetherduringhis
Boulderdays(inanimaginaryworldwhereIwasagood10-15yearsolder).Iwas
toouptightduringmy20sforustohavebeenmuchofamatch.Butsomehowtime
hadworkeditswondersonusbothandnowherewewere,verymuchinloveand
perfectforoneanother.
Weeventuallypullourselvesawayfromthecreek,grabsomefooddowntowninthe
PearlStreetpedestrianmall,andgetbackontheroad.Iamalittlewide-eyedat
someofthecharacterswhoworkthestreet.IcommenttoShamanGuyaboutthe
lackofdiversityhere.ComingfromCalifornia,wherethereisaconstantmixofraces
inanypublicplace,thisplaceisratherwhitebread.ShamanGuylaughs,“Waituntil
yougettoMarblehead.”I’mnotsurethisisareassuringcomment.
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Iturntheconversationbacktothepast.I’mstilluncoveringallthestoriesfrom
ShamanGuy’smanypastlives.“WhydidyouleaveBoulderifyouloveditsomuch?”
Iask.“MychikungteacherheresaidifIreallywantedtoknowwhathewastalking
about,thenIneededtostudywithhisBuddhistteacherinNYCsoItradedpursuing
thephysicalwarriorpathforaspiritualone.”I’mstartingtoputtogetherallthe
timesShamanGuyhasmovedbackandforthfromWestCoasttoEast.Hehasbeen
likeaping-pongballinhismovesandhereweareheadingEastagain.
ShamanGuymusesaboutmovingbacktoBoulder.Iamnotamused.WhileIcan
easilyseewhyaShamanGirl(ornaturebufforanyotherliberalleaningsoul)would
loveBoulder,somethingismissingforme.MaybeI’dgoforsomewhereinColorado
butBoulderdoesn’tseemliketheplaceforme(butwhatdoIknow).
Besides,wehaveaplan!IwillsoondiscoverthatShamanGuyhasahabitof
fantasizingaboutmoving–toWyoming,toMadrid,NM,backtoEncinitas,to
Colorado.IquicklylearnthatifIstartprotesting,thedreamseemstotakerootand
grow.ButifIwholeheartedlyagree,yes!I’dlovetoliveinthemiddleofnowhere,
let’spackuprightnow!Hequicklyreturnstohissenses.Isteerhimbacktothe
presentplan,andtoElGato,andweareontheroadonceagain.
SincethereisnothingbutfieldsofcornandwheatbetweenusandSt.Louis,our
nextstopalongmemorylane,wedecidetojustdriveuntilwedrop.Iamdyingto
makeittoSt.LouisbyFridayat5pm.SchoolisjustgearingupagainandIam
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curioustoseeifHappyHourstillexistsonthestairsofGivensHall.PlusIthinkit
wouldbeariottoseeafewoldprofessorswithmyshamanhusbandintow.We
driveanddriveanddriveuntilwearebleary-eyed.
WepullupinfrontofGivensandIjustsitandstare.It’sthefirsttimeI’vebeenback
toWashingtonUniversitysincethedayIgavemycommencementaddressand
challengedmyselfandmyclassmatesto“gooutsideourcomfortzone.”Check.Think
Icoveredthatgoal!Ican’tbelieveit’sbeenalmostadecadesinceI’vegraduated.
HowcanIfeellikenotimehaspassedandyetgraduationwasaneternityago?
ShamanGuyandImakeourwayinside,passtheheavy,tallolddoorsthatguardthe
entrance.StudentsarescurryingupanddownthestairsandIexpecttosee
Colorado,oroneofmyothercollegepals,comeboundinguptomeatanymoment.
Buttheyareofcoursenotthere.It’satrippyexperiencetobebackatschoolwith
noneofthefamiliarfaces.Myheadisspinningslightly.
Wewanderdownthehallwaytotheprofessors’offices,notingsomeminorchanges
inthecorridors,butmostlynothinghasbeenaltered.Weknockonthedoorofmy
favoriteprofessorwhotaughtkillerdrawingclasses.We’vekeptintouchsomewhat
overtheyears.Artisin!
Ire-introducemyselfandShamanGuy.Webothshakeourheadsathowmuchtime
haspassed.Icommentonhowbizarreitisthatallthestudentsstaythesameage
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yearafteryear,buttheprofessorsandschoolgrowsolder.Artlaughsandsaysitisa
bitlikebeinginawarpedtimemachine.Aftersketchingoutageneraloutlineof
whatI’vebeenuptoandwhereweareheading,theconversationpetersout.Arthas
gottorun.Wehuggoodbyeandwisheachotherluck.
ShamanGuyandIclimbtheflightofstairstothesecondfloor.Iwanthimtoseethe
studioswhereIlivedandillegallysleptduringthelastfewyearsofschool.Iamabit
dismayedtodiscoverthattheintricatemini-citiesoftablesandstoolsanddividers
thatusedtoinhabitthespacesareallbutgone.They’vebeenreplacedwith
desktopsthathousesleekcomputers.Thecomputerlab,whichwasinitsinfancy
whenIwasastudent,hasexplodedoutofitsglass-enclosedprisonintothecreative
studiospaces.Therearesomesketchesandhandmademodelsscatteredamongthe
computers,butgonearetheenormousolddraftingtables,rollsofvellum,and
bottlesofink.
It’sprogress,Isuppose.Anddefinitelyinevitablegiventhetechnological
developmentsincomputeraideddesign,architecture,andengineering.Butmy
heartisabitheavy.Mymemoriesofcollegewerefilledwithcreativityandartistic
messinessandusingourhandstodrawandbuildasmuchasweusedourminds.
HappyHourstillexistsandthestudentsaredriftingdownthestairs.WefollowandI
thinkIcatchaglimpseofoneofthegraduatestudentsthatIknew.Nope.Justan
eerieresemblanceandsomedejavu.Notmanyprofessorsarearoundandnoneof
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theinfamouslocalbeerinthestylin’cardboardboxes.Nooneapproachesus;we
obviouslyaren’tapartofthiscrowd.Iamnolongertheheadofthestudentcouncil
orthegirlwiththebigscholarship.Tothekidsaroundme,I’mmiddle-agedwitha
middle-agedhusbandtoboot.Iamnolongerabigfishinasmallpond.Ismileat
myself,realizingthatIhadbeenexpectingmorefanfareatmy“homecoming”but
thereisnooneherewhowouldhaveanyreasontocelebratemyreturn.
IturntoShamanGuy,“I’mreadytogo.”He’sabitsurprisedafterhowmuchI’ve
gushedaboutHappyHour,butjustaspleasedtofindahotelwherewecancrash
afterourlongdrive.I’mquietinthetruck.“Whatareyouthinking?”ShamanGuy
asks.
IgropearoundtodescribewhatI’mfeeling.“WhenIthinkbacktocollege,itwasthis
mythicaltime.Lotsofgreatfriends.Latenights.Beingreallycreativeandartistic,
whichIdon’ttakethetimetodomuchofanymore.Iwaswell-knownamongmy
classmatesandwasreallysuccessfulinschool.Myscholarshipcoveredmyfinances,
soIdidn’thavetoworryaboutbeingtakencareof…eventhoughIstressedabout
plentyelse.”Idriftbackintime.“Iguesstherehasbeenthispartofmethathas
longedtogobacktothattime.ButaftergoingtoGivenstoday,Irealizedthatallthat
happenedinthepast.Itdoesn’texistanymore,exceptinmymemory.Feelslikeit’s
timetoletgoofthelongingforwhatwas.”
ShamanGuywiselynodsandkeepsquiet.
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“Thefunnythingis,”Isaylookingathim,“I’mmuchhappiernow,evenwithallthe
unknowns.”Hesmiles,knowingthatheisabigpartofthathappiness.“It’stimeto
cutthatemotionalcordthatwishes‘now’waslike‘then.’Thatwouldfreeupalotof
energytobehere,inthepresent.AndifImissbeingcreativeorartistic,thenIhave
plentyoftimetobringthatbackintomylife.”
Iclosemyeyesforafewminutes.Alongslivery,shimmerycordmaterializes.Ithas
tentaclesattachedtomyheartandmywill.Itravelalongthecordandcatch
glimpsesofmeinthestudiolateatnight,musicblasting,walkingthroughthequad,
headburiedinabook,inaboyfriend’sdormroom,talkingwithprofessors.Isendall
myloveandgratitudetoeachsceneandIpullallmylongingandyearningback
towardme.ThenIcutthecord,feelinganenergeticclarity.
AsIopenmyeyesandlookoutthewindshieldattheroadahead,Iamabittaken
abackthatsomuchenergyhadbeentiedupinthepast.Iamhappytohavemade
thepitstopinSt.LouiseventhoughitwasnotwhatIexpected.AndIwaseven
happiertoberightwhereIwas,inacabwithShamanGuy,headingeast.
Afteragoodnight’ssleep,ShamanGuyandIpickupInterstate70Eastandmakethe
familiardrivetowardPittsburgh.Thispartofthecountryisrecognizableafterthe
manydrivesbackandforthtoschool.
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WestopinColumbustomeetmybrotherfordinner.He’snowadedicatedand
popularhighschoolscienceteachersohe’sstillatschooleventhoughthestudents
havelonggone.It’sfuntoseewhereheworksandalittlefunnytobebackinsidea
publicschool.EventhoughIwentintotheteachingprofessionbeforehim,he’sthe
onewhohaslastedforyearsandwillmostlikelycontinuetodosowhileI’moff
exploringuncharteredterritories.I’mhappythatwecanhaveapleasantmeal
togetherevenifwedon’thavemuchincommon.Idon’tseehisrational,scientific
mindwanderingthefarreachesoftheshamanuniverseanytimesoon.
WesayourgoodbyesanddrivethelastfewhourstoPittsburghwhereWappyand
Bazerstilllive,inthesamehouseIgrewupinasaGoodGirl.I’mweirdlynervousto
bebringingShamanGuyhome.OtherthanAirMan,noonefrommyCaliforniadays
hasbeenbacktowhereitallstarted.WillseeingwhereIgrewupchangetheway
ShamanGuyperceivesme?OrwillitgivehimabetterunderstandingofwhoIam?
Cominghomeisalwaystrickybusiness.Thereisasenseofcomfortandfamiliarity.
Thegreennessandthetreesandthehillsandriversareapartofmybones.
EspeciallywhenIflyintoPittsburghandweclearthecloudcover,Ifeelajoltof
inherentlyknowingandlovingthisplaceonamolecularlevel.
Andthenthereisthefunnycontrastofhavingnotlivedinthisareaformyentire
adultlife.IleftwhenIwas18andhaven’tbeenbackformorethanafewweeks(at
most)atatime.Habitsandlikesanddislikesofmy18yearoldselfarefrozenin
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timeinWappyandBazer’smind,eventhoughtheyarenolongerapartofmydaily
world.Inoweatbreakfast.Idon’tliketoeatoutthreemealsaday.Idon’teatmuch
junkfoodbutdoeatproteinpowderandgreenfood.Inolongerwearridiculously
baggyclothingorflannelnightgowns.Minordetailsperhaps,butonesthatcreate
frictionwhenIassertwhatIenjoynow.
Thenthereisthefunnyenergeticthathappenswhenyouarearoundthepeople
whoinstalledallyourconditioninginyou.Withoutahighlevelofawareness,allthe
oldemotionalpatternsinstantlyresurrectthemselvesthrowingyoubacktothe
dayswhenyouwereadefiantteenager,orasulkykid,orinmycaseanobedient
GoodGirl.Unresolvedangerburststhroughoverinsignificantincidences–likehow
towashlaundry.Thereisasayingthatifyouwanttoseehowenlightenedyouare,
visityourparentsforaweek.WewillonlybestayingforadayortwoandIhavea
feelingthatitwillbeenoughformewithnewhusbandintow,charteringthenew
andtheold.
AswepulluptothefrontofWappyandBazer’shouse,Itrytoseeitthrough
ShamanGuy’seyes.Theyliveinoneofthenicerpartsoftheirmiddle-class
communityandourhouseusedtolooklikealltheotherhousesontheblock.But
afterlivinginCaliforniafornineyears,thehousedoesn’tseemasbigorasupscale
asitdidwhenIwasgrowingup.Theneighborshaveallupgradedtheirhomes,
particularlywithfancierlandscapingandregularpaintjobs,whileWappyandBazer
havedoneminimalimprovements.Thehouseisalittleraggedaroundtheedges.
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Wegoinsideandtherearehugsallaround,butunderneaththereisabitoftension.
Wappyhasn’tcompletelyforgivenusforthewedding“fiasco.”IgiveShamanGuya
tourofthehouseanditisjustoddtohavehimhereinmychildhoodhome.He
seemstobetoobig,agiant,takinguptoomuchspace.It’snotjusthisphysicality,it’s
hisenergymixedwithmine.Iamnolongerateenager.Iamamarriedwoman–and
ShamanGirl.
Wemakeourwayuptomychildhoodbedroomandhepointedlyplacesourbags
inside,givingmeaknowinglook.Onthedrivehere,Ihadexplainedtohimhowmy
parentshadarulethatboysandgirlscouldnotsleepinthesameroomiftheywere
notmarried.Iwondergivenour“fake”wedding,whattheyaregoingtosayaboutus
stayingtogetherundertheirroof.
ShamanGuylooksoveratmeincredulously.“You’vegottobekiddingme,”hesays.
“Myparentshadthesamerule–whenIwasinhighschool–butdoyouthinkthat
stoppedme?Youare31.Wearesleepingtogether.Wearemarried.Andregardless,
wehavebeensleepingtotogethersincethedaywegottogether.Nottomention,we
areadults.”
Imeeklyprotest.“Butit’stheirhouse,theirrules….”ShamanGuyjustgivesmea
look.“Wellthen,wecanstayinahotelifyoulike.”Iamhorrified.Myparentswould
reallyneverforgiveusthenifwe“snubbed”themthatway.
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Iquicklyacquiesce,“No,it’sfine.We’llstayinthesameroom.”
SohereIfindmyselfstandingawkwardlyinmyroomwithShamanGuy.Myparents
callit“TheShrine”becauseitstilllargelylookslikeitdidwhenIleftforcollege.The
samedrawingsandkeepsakestackedtothewalls.Thesamestuffedanimalslining
theshelves.Lotsofoldclothesinthecloset.BazerhasaddedaTVandalounging
chair,butotherwiseit’sbeenuntouched.
Ifeelabitexposed,showingarelicofmyyoungerselftoShamanGuy.Onceagain,I
feelasifIamstraddlingtwoworlds.IamarecoveringGoodGirlfromamiddle-class
neighborhoodinworkingclassPittsburgh.IamaShamanGirlwhohastraveled
aroundtheworld(andbeyond)topowerspotsandwholivesadreamofheavenon
earthwhereradiantabundanceisourbirthright.WhoamI?WhichoneamI?
AsIscanmyroom,Itakeitallin.Yes,whatisleftonmywallsismebutitisnotthe
fullstory.Andyes,thewomanstandingnexttoherbelovedisalsome,butsheisnot
thefullstoryeither.Iamlifeforcemovingthroughthisbodyandmind,navigating
parentalunitsandbeinganewlywedandmovingcross-countrytoanunknown
place.IglanceatShamanGuy,whoiswatchingmeclosely,andIgiggle.Takeitor
leaveit,likeitornot,hereIam,aShamanGirlandarecoveringGoodGirlallmixed
inone,atthehomeIgrewupinsinceIwasatoddler.
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Icertainlydon’tpassanyenlightenmenttestswhileinthe‘burgh,butIalsodon’t
judgemyselfforwhereIameither-andthatisawareness.Najoncetoldmethat
whenshevisitsherparentsorotherrelatives,shepretendsthatshe’sanalien
visitinganotherplanet,studyinglocalcustomsofthenatives.Thatwayshedoesn’t
havetotakewhatthenativessayordopersonally.It’sjustthewaytheydolife,
whichmightnotbethewayshedoesitwhereshecomesfrom.
Iseethebrillianceofthisgame.Thatnight,whileShamanGuyandIarenestled
underthesameblanketIusedinhighschoolandIamflabbergastedthataguyis
sleepinginbedwithmewithmyparentsinthenextroom,wecreateasimilar
mythology.Iwasbornanelf,butraisedinafamilyofhobbits.Thehobbitswerevery
kindandlovingandraisedmethebesttheycould,buttheywerenotfamiliarwith
elfinwayssotheydidnotteachmehowtobemytrueelf-self.Howcouldthey?They
werehobbits.WhenIcameofageanddiscoveredthatIwasreallyanelf,Ireconnectedwithmytruenatureandmypeople.
Anditisn’tthattrueforallofus?Weareborndivinesparksoflightandlove.Weare
entrustedtoparentswhoraiseusinthewaysoftheworld,doingthebesttheycan
withwhattheyknow.Whenwecomeofage,manyofuswakeupandrealizethatwe
aremorethanwewereraisedtobelieve.Wediscoverthatweenjoylivingwithless
dramaorwithmorespiritualityinourlives.Wereconnectwiththelightthathas
alwaysbeenwithinus.WeclaimourrighttobeShamanGirls(orartists,ora
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religionotherthantheoneofourbirth,orfillintheblank)andwefindpeoplelike
uswhowanttoplayinsimilarways.
Itcanbeunnervingandconfusingtonavigatethetransitionbetweenour
conditioningandourshining.Butsomehowwefindthecouragetofollowourhearts
andcommunicatetothoseweloveaboutwhatmakesusmosthappy,evenifit
doesn’tupholdtheirbeliefsordreamsforus.Somehowweletgoofourperceived
limitationsandtakebabystepstowardsfreedomandabundanceandpassionand
possibility.
Andthenonedayweleap.Withallourmight,allourdesire,alltheburninginour
heart,wejumpintoanewdreamandstartlivinginawaythatfeelsalittlebetter,
thatbringsusalittlemorehappiness.Forawhile,wemayteeterbetweentheold
andthenew.Butifwejustkeeppointingournoseup,ourplanewillgainaltitude.
Ourliveswillchange.Weevolve…andevolve…andevolve.Wegainenlightenment
orawarenessorwhateverwecallitinbits.Untiloneday,wenolongercareifwe
areenlightenedornot–wekeepchoppingwoodandcarryingwater.Wejustlove
ourselves,ourprocess,ourfamilies.Andthatisenough.
Whew.I’mdonenow.AndShamanGuyandIweredonewithourtriptomyhobbit
home.WewereofftoseeKaiathismother’sinNewJersey,andthenontothefinal
frontier–Marblehead.
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ShamanGuy’sPast
Pennsylvaniagoesonandonandon,butfinallywemakeittoNewJersey.Iam
curioustomeetShamanGuy’sexandKai’smom.ShamanGuyandIfeelsorightand
foreverandfromthefirstmomentintime,that’sit’sabitstrangetothinkthathe’s
hadotherlivesoutsideoftheonethatheandIaresharing–multiplelivesinfact.
I’malsolookingforwardtoseeingtheotherinfluencingfactorinKai’sbeing.There
issomuchShamanGuyinhim,andalsosomuchofhispersonalitythatIcanseehas
beenareactiontoShamanGuy’sintenseenergy.Thentherearecomponentsthat
I’mguessinghavecomefromhismomandofcoursebitsandpiecesthatarepure
Kaitoo.
WearriveatKai’shome,acottageonalake,andstepintoKai’sotherfamily’sworld.
WereceiveawarmRussianwelcome;bothKai’smomandhisstepdadareoriginally
fromRussia.Weareusheredintoatableladenwithteaandsweettreats.Kai’shalfsistersswirlaroundus.Theirhouseisariotofcreativityandwarmth.
Asintroductionsaremade,IpraythatIcankeepthemstraightaseveryone’sname
seemstoendwiththeaffectionateRussiandiminutive“ka”andthereismuchtalk
aboutaunts,grandparents,cousins,andotherfamilymemberswhoarescattered
aroundtheworld.MeetAshka,Vaska,Nemka,Maska,Paska.Totopitalloff,his
stepdadandyoungestsistersharevariationsofthesamenamesoI’mneversure
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whoisbeingreferredtowhenIhearVaskaorVashka.NowIknowhowShamanGuy
feelswhenhetriestodecipherthePittsburghfamilytree.
Kai’ssistersadorehimanditissweettowatchhimplaywiththem,talkinginasingsongRussianvoice.Hereheisnotanonlychild;he’spartofalargertribethatspans
theglobe.HisextendedfamilyhasmultiplehomesinRussia,England,Scotland,Italy
andtheUnitedStates.Theyareknowntopickupandmovetoanothercountrythe
waysomepeoplepickupandmovetoanotherspotonthecouchwhilewatchingTV.
There’sarunningjokeintheirfamily,“Whereintheworldis….?”astheytrytokeep
trackofeachother’scurrentresidences.He’sluckytobeexposedtoothercultures
andtohavesuchamulti-nationalworldview.Nottomentionheistri-lingual.
Afterstuffingourselveswithpastries,wespendthenightintheguestroom.Ihavea
hardtimepicturingAshkaandShamanGuytogether.It’sdisconcertingtohearhim
followtheconversationsaboutthemanyrelativeswithease–untilIrealizethat
thesewereoncehisin-laws.IfeelnojealousyoranimositytowardAshka.I’mquite
secureinourrelationship.Justaslightsenseofdisplacementinthishome,sinceI
amthenewcomerandoutsidertotherelationshipsthathavebeeninplaceforover
adecadebeforeIenteredthescene.HowisitpossiblethatShamanGuybecamea
fathertheyearIgraduatedhighschool?
Aswesnuggleclose,ShamanGuytellsmestoriesabouthistumultuousrelationship
withAshkathatseemstohavemellowedovertimeandwiththestabilizingfactorof
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Kai’sstepdadinthepicture.IcanhardlybelievethatShamanGuywasinsucha
drama-filledrelationship,butthenagain,Itoohavearelationshipthatwasbasedon
passionbutnotcompatibility.IamsogratefulthatwithShamanGuy,Ifinallyhave
both.AndbothShamanGuyandIaregratefulthatKaicameoutofAshkaand
ShamanGuy’sunion.Althoughit’shardtocomprehendthatIamnowamomtoa
pre-teen,Ican’timaginelifewithoutKaibeingpartofthepackage.
ThenextmorningwesayourgoodbyesaftertakingKaiouttobreakfast.He’llbe
joiningusinMarbleheadinlessthanaweektostarthisschoolyearthere.Withbig
hugs,weareontheverylastlegofourjourney.
Whiletempting,weskirtNewYorkCity,whereShamanGuylivedforyears.We’ll
savethebrightlightsandbigcityforanothertime.Butwecan’tresistmakingastop
inBedford,whereShamanGuygrewupoutsidetheCity.Afterall,we’vevisited
significantplacesandpeoplefromthestartofourspirituallives,mybirthplaceand
childhoodhome,mycollege,aswellasfamilyandex’s.WehavetoincludeShaman
Guy’sbeginningsonthistriptoo.
BedfordispartoftheextremelywealthyandpreppyWestchesterNYarea,withthe
infamousGreenwichandChappaquaasitsneighboringtowns.Iamimpressedthat
itisstillasruralasitiseventhoughitisonly45minutesorsooutsideoftheCity.
Butperhapsitslargefarmswithhorses,rollinghills,andlargetractsofforestshave
beenpreservedbythegiganticestatesofitsfamousresidentswhichnowinclude
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thelikesofRalphLauren,MarthaStewart,ChevyChaseandGlennClose.Andyet
manyofitswealthystudentsgotothepublichighschoolherewhichdrawsamixof
studentsfromthesurroundingareas.WhileShamanGuywasbynomeanswealthyhecamefromtheuppermiddle-classpartoftown,Iseehowthisenvironment
shapedhisviewoftheworldandhisloveoffinehomesandbelongings.
WedrivethroughBedfordcenterandIcannothelpbutbecharmedbyits
whitewashedbuildingsthatoozeNewEnglandcharm.Thereisthepostoffice,afew
localeateriesandsomeupscaleboutiques.Itlookslikeit’soutofaNorman
Rockwellpainting.
JunebugandBill,ShamanGuy’sfathermovedhereinthelate50s.Hisdadwasanup
andcomingexecutiveatGeneralFoods.Extremelyhandsome,confidentand
outgoing,Billwasonhiswayupintheworldwithhislovelybridebyhisside.
Junebug,likemostoftheotherwomeninBedfordinherday,wasinchargeof
keepinganimmaculatehome,raisingherrowdybrood,andthrowingmemorable
dinnerpartieswithjusttherightcrowdtofurtherBill’scareerandtheirsocial
status.IcouldbeinaLeaveItToBeaverepisode.Lifewaspromising.
IronicallyourvisitstartswithanendinginShamanGuy’syounglifeaswepullinto
St.Matthew’s,thechurchwherehisfatherwasalayministerandwhereheis
buried.WemakeourwaytohisheadstoneinthisprettyNewEnglandcemeterythat
hascenturiesworthofgravesinit,manywithprominentfamilies.
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Wegrowquietaswewalkalongastonewall,linedwithshrubsthatarcalongthe
path.Westandinfrontofhisfather’sheadstone,WilliamFrancisGilroy,1922-1961.
Deadat39.It’sabitstrangetoseehisdad’snameetchedinstonelikethis.Itstrikes
methatbothofourfathersarenamesWilliam.Andthatmydadlosthisdadata
youngagetoosothereisahistoryoffatherlessboysandstrongwomeninbothof
ourfamilies.
Ifeelasubtlesadnesswashoverme.ShamanGuy’sfatherdiedunexpectedlywhen
hewas3yearsold.At3,howdoyouevencomprehendthatonedayyourfatheris
roughhousingwithyouandthenexthe’sgone?Howdoyoudealwiththesadnessin
thehouseasyourmothertriestocopewithitall?Junebugbecameawidowatthe
ageof36andwaslefttoraise3boysonherownduringthe60s.Shewentfrom
havingapicturesquelife(withitsowntrialsandtribulationstooofcourse)tobeing
aloneandhavingtofendforherselfandherlittleones.
Itrytopicturewhatitwouldbeliketobeafatherlessboygrowingupinthis
traditionaltown,butwithlargersocietalchangesafoot.ButIsimplycannotfathom
it.BazerissuchanamazingdadandsoinherentlyinterwovenwithmylifeandI
grewupinanentirelydifferentera.
IclosemyeyesandputmyhandonBill’sheadstonewhilemyotherhandisclasped
firmlytoShamanGuy’s.IfeelmyselftumblethroughalongtubeandIswayslightly
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asIconnecttoadreamthatlivesbeyondtheedgesofthisworld.Ifeelmyself
trackingthemajoreventsinShamanGuy’syounglife.It’sasiftherearetracesofhis
emotionsscatteredinthisotherdimensionandtheyripplethroughme.Icannotsee
thepeopleorsituationsclearly,butIcanfeeltheirimpactonmyman.Ifeeltheloss
ofhisfather,theloveandfightswithhisbrothers,hismother’ssadness,him
bullyingotherchildrenandfightingtoprovehimselfasaboywithoutmale
guidance,thearrivalofhisstep-father…thefeelingsareprofoundandtakemy
breathaway.Iamexperiencingthemakingofthemanstandingbymyside.
IhearmyheartspeakingtoBill.I’mthankinghimforbringingShamanGuyintothe
world.Icanhearapleasedresponse.I’mcuriouswhyheleftShamanGuyatsuchan
earlyage.WhileIdon’thearalogicalreply,Icansensethatitwasjusttime.Itwasn’t
personal.
Inthatmoment,Ifeelhowthistragedywasalsoablessing.ItshapedShamanGuy
intowhoheistoday.Whilenottheeasiestofpaths,itcreatedawarrior,aprotector,
afierce,independentsoul,whoalsohasabeautifulsensitivityandcompassion
within.IfeeltearsrollingdownmycheeksasImournforShamanGuy’sfather,a
manIneverknew.IgrieveforShamanGuyasalittleboy.Iamproudandhappyfor
theinexplicablepathoftheShamanGuywhoisherewithmenow.Isayasilent
prayerthatthislegacyoffathers’dyingyounghasendedwithinourfamilies.I
releaseitintothewisdomandperfectionofaGodIcan’tprofesstounderstand.And
yetsomehowIgraspthestarkbeautyofitall.
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IopenmyeyestoseetearscoursingdownShamanGuy’sfacetoo.Wehugtightly.
Whatanintimateexperience.Withoutspeaking,ShamanGuyandImakeourway
intotheforestsanctuarybehindthegraveyard.Thetrailfallsdownaninclineand
webeartotherightuntilwearriveatanoutdoorchapelinthewoods.
Ikeepblinkingmyeyes,amazedatwhatIsee.Anarchhasbeencraftedoutofwood
tomaketheentrance,therearerowsofroughlyhewnwoodenbenches,andthereis
astonethathasbeenplacedatthefronttomakeafocalpointasthealtar.Theentire
placeisnestledintothetreesandferns.IfeellikeI’vebeentransportedtoEngland
orIrelandandhavestumbledontoasecret,sacredfairyspot.Theenergysprings
fromthedivinefeminineandisalittlesurprisingtomethatit’spartofatraditional,
whiteclapboard,EpiscopalianchurchinthequintessentialNewEnglandtown.
Nowit’smyturntolead,andwewalkdowntheaisle.IguideShamanGuytothe
frontaltar,andwebothkneelbesidethestone,whichhascollectedwater,a
baptismalfont.Idipmyfingersintothewateranduseittowashthetearstreaksof
hisface.Iblesshiscrown,histhirdeye,hislips,histhroat,hisheartwiththe
woodlandwater.Mayyoubefulloflove.Mayyouwalk,talk,actinpeace.Mayyou
turnyoursorrowsintostrengths.Mayyoushareyourgiftswiththeworld.
Iblessmyself,feelingaconnectiontoalltheShamanGirlswhohavelived
throughouttimeandhavecreatedritualslikethisone,whocameacrossatimeor
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spacethatwasconducivetoconnectingwiththedivinefeminineenergyandacted
onit.FlashesofwarriorprincessesandpriestessesinAvalonandgoddessesfrom
EgyptandcuranderasfromMexicoflickerbeforemythirdeye.Iacknowledgeand
honorthemall.IfeeltheunbrokenchainthatlinksmyselftothemandIcanfeelthe
stirringsintheground,intheatmosphere,aroundtheplanetasotherShamanGirls
arewakingupandreclaimingourlineage.
ShamanGuyandImovetoabenchandsitside-by-ide,handsrestinggentlyoneach
other’sknee.Deepcontentedpeace.Stillnesspunctuatedonlybybirdcallsandthe
soundofrushingwater.Expansion.Ablanketthatextendsoutward,thatalsowraps
sosecurelyandreassuringlyinward.Timelosesitsmeaning.Tosimplysitandbe,
withoutathoughtorcareintheworld,isdelicious.Icannotmove.I’vebecomepart
ofthelandscape,partoftheforest.Ifeelrefreshedandrefilled.
Thesunhasshiftedintheskyanditsbeamsfilterdownthroughthetrees,bathing
everybranchandbenchinanotherworldlylight.Ifeelarayconnecttothetopofmy
head.IopenmyeyesandseeonehasmeldedwithShamanGuy’sgoldenhairaswell.
Heopenshiseyesandthelandscapearoundmemeltsintoafuzzywhitehaze.Ifeel
myheartleapasourenergiesco-mingle.Westareateachother,withsillygrins,for
anothereternity.Thenthewhitehazefadesandwearekissingandwipingtearsand
nosesandlaughingatourgoodfortunetohavefoundoneanotherinthisplacein
thislifetime.
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Weofferourthankstothechapelinthewoodsandcontinuedownthetrailhandin
hand.Levityreturnstousaswewatchthechipmunksgoabouttheirbusy-ness.An
oldercouplewalksbyuswiththeirgoldenretrieverandwenodandsmile
knowinglyatoneanother.IhopetobewalkingbyShamanGuy’ssidedecadesfrom
now.WearriveatthebottomofthehillandShamanGuyshareshismemoriesof
traipsingthroughthesewoods.Iamtickledbythegurglingcreekandwooden
footbridgethatspansit.
Itamazesmethatyoucoulddrivethroughthistown,orevenlivewithinits
neighborhoods,goingaboutyourusualbusinessandyetthismagicalplace,fullof
sourceenergyisjustbeyondthechurch’sparkinglotanddownthehillinthewoods.
Ifwearewillingtotakethetimeandlook,can’twealldiscoverasecretspot,aplace
innature,ormakealittlecornerinourownhomesthathonorsandwelcomesthis
energy?It’severywhere,andyesperhapslessdisturbedinsomeplacesthanothers.
Wejusthavetodirectourattentiontoit.
Wefeelthepulltokeepgoing,sowemakeourwaybacktothecar.Iamsohappy
wetookabreakfromtheconcretehighwaystoexperienceabitofnatureanda
connectiontoShamanGuy’sroots.Wedriveafewmilestothehomewherehegrew
up.Hepointsoutlandmarksalongtheway–theshopwhereJunebugworked,his
school,theinfamousoldtreeintown.Weturndownasideroadandanotherand
pullupinfrontofhisoldhouse.Hecommentsonthechangesandpointstohis
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friends’housesontheblock.IcaneasilypictureShamanGuyjumpingofftheroof,
ridinghisdirtmotorcycleoffintothewoods,throwingbaseballs.
Afterafewminutesofbeinglostinourownthoughts,weturntoeachother.
“Ready?”ShamanGuyasks.“Yes,”Ireply.AndIrealizethatIam.Thistripcrosscountryhasbeenrevealingandhealingandinspiring.Butnowit’stimetostop
travelingandstartgrowingroots.I’mreadytogostartourpromisinglifeinournew
home.
AlmostThere&Now
ImusthavedozedoffbecauseI’mnowbeinggentlyshakenandpulledbackintoa
blurryrealityofconcreteandbillboardsandbuildingswhizzingby.“Wakeup
sleepyhead!”ShamanGuyhasabigsmileonhisface.“Ithoughtyou’dwanttobe
awaketoseeBoston.”
Inodgroggily.I’malwaysslowtowakeup.WappyandBazerinstalledthe“fall
asleepinmovingvehicles”programinmewhentheytookmefordrivesin
desperationtogetmetofallasleep.Nowittakessupremeeffortnottofallasleepin
one.Themotionofthetruckalmostlullsmebackintodreamland,butShamanGuy
shakesmylegagain.“Look!FenwayPark….Downtown…Cambridgeisthatway…
TheCharlesRiver.”
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Ishakemyselfupoutofthedreamworldintothephysicalrealitythatisflashingby
me.MyheadswivelsbackandforthasItrytotakeitallin.Ifeelabudofexcitement
growingwithinme.Bostonlookslikeaprettyhipplaceandislessthanahalfhour
fromMarblehead.Thereareoodlesofhistoryandinterestingarchitecture,great
placestoeat,music,andatonofuniversitiestokeepthecityyoung.We’llbeableto
comeintothecityforsomecultureoncewesettlein.Maybethiswon’tbesobad
afterall.
Wedivebelowthecity,tunnelingourwaythroughtheBigDig.Wepopinandoutof
tunnels,drivingbelowthewaterwaysthatsurroundthecity.Weemerge,heading
north,attheairport.We’llbeflyinginandoutofheretocontinueDreamingwith
MioandBabsontheWestCoast.
Asweheadnorth,ShamanGuyisgrowingmoreandmoreexcited.He’spractically
bouncingoutofhisseat.Afterthinkinghehadsaidgoodbyetoatownthatheloved,
criedhiswaycross-countrybroke-hearted,heisnowreturninghealedandwhole
andwithhisbelovedathisside.
“We’realmostthere!”hecroons.
Ilookoutmywindowatthepassingscenery.Anoilrefinery.Run-downhotels.
Long-termparkinglots.Aracetrack.Carrepairshops.Trafficslows.Ifeelatremor
ofdoubtrearitshead.“We’realmostthere?”I’mthinkingwithdread.Thisareais
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awful.Wedrivebyfastfoodrestaurants,acarwash,aswapmeetmall,amilk
factory.Litterisblowingdownthesidesofthestreets.“Iknewit!Marblehead
couldn’tbeasniceasthatphotobook,”Iamsilentlyberatingmyselfforallowing
ShamanGuytodragmeheretothisGod-forsakenplace.
“I’msoexcited!”ShamanGuypracticallysings,“Wearesoclosenow!”
IlookatShamanGuyasifheisaderangedalien.Arewelivingonthesameplanet?
WhatIamseeingoutthewindowinnowayresemblesourdreamofheavenon
earth.Infact,itlooksasbad,ifnotworsethaninner-cityLosAngeles.
What’skillingmeisthatmyGilga,myhero,issodeluded.Ithoughtwewere
dreamingabundanceandbeautyandjoy.Iwaspicturingpicturesque,quaint,safe,
clean,stunninglygorgeous.
Instead,Iseeascuffedupsignreading,“NowEnteringLynn.”ShamanGuycallsout,
“Lynn!TheCityofSin!”
Sin.Imusthavegoneagainstmyselfsomewherealongthewaytohaveendedup
herenow.
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Tearsspringtomyeyes.Iclosemyeyestighttokeepthetearsfromspillingoutand
toshutoutthedingycityoutsidethewindshield.Iwanttobeagoodsport.Iwantto
havefaithinShamanGuy’splan.
ButinthismomentI’mnotfeelingit.
Whatifthisisatotaldisaster?Inowhavenojob.We’reprettymuchbrokewith
heftycredit-carddebt.ThereisabsolutelynooneIcancallwithinhundredsofmiles
thatIknow.
Idon’tusuallypray,butthisseemstobeanextremesituation.“OhGod,pleasehelp
me.Idon’tknowwhatIwasthinkingmarryingthisguyandmovingcross-country
awayfromeveryonewhoknowsandlovesme.Please,please,makethisokay.Idon’t
thinkIcandothiswithoutalittlehelp.”
Thetruckhitsapotholeandmyeyesflyopen.“Oh!”Igasp.
Myprayerwasanswered.
SpreadoutinfrontofmeistheAtlanticOcean.Bigandboldandbeautiful.Waves
arecrashing,seagullscallingouttooneanother.Nothingbutwaterforasfarasthe
eyecansee.Ilookleftandrightandthecoastlinewandersandweaveswithrocky
peninsulasjuttingouttothenorthandsouth.
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Irolldownmywindowandthetangyseasaltyairhitsmynostrils.Thesmellis
colderandcrisperthanmyfamiliarPacificscent,fullofseaweedtoo.Apleasant
breezestirsmyhair.
Ifeelmyheartopenandmydoubtsfadeasthetruckslowsdown.Alongtheshore
arebig,beautiful,statelymansionsoverlookingawideexpanseofabeach.We
rumblethroughasmallbusinessdistrictwithcuteeateriesonthefarsideofthe
roadandboatsonmooringsontheoceanside.Okay,notsobad.ClosertowhatIhad
picturedandbeenpromised.
Wefollowtheroadthrougharesidentialsectionwithimpressivelyoldandornate
homes.Drivingevenslowerastheroadnarrows.Ifeelmyselfrelaxalittlemore.
ShamanGuypullsovertothesideoftheroad.“Arewehere?”Iaskhavingpulled
myselfsomewhattogether.
“Almost,”ShamanGuyrepliesandpointstoasignafewhundredfeetinfrontofus.
“Welcome!EnteringMarblehead.”“Butfirst,weneedtostophere.C’mon.Getout.”
GordaandIbothleaptothegroundandgiveagoodstretch–hersadownwarddog,
mine,uptowardthesky.Fromhere,allIcanseearetallbeachgrasses,wavingin
thewind.Theyseemtobewavinghello,welcome.Ismileatthisimage.Awooden
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boardwalkispeekingoutbetweenthetallgrasswithsomesandspillingontothe
sidewalk.
ShamanGuyembracesmeinabighug,kissesthetopofmyhead,andthengrabsmy
hand.Likelittlekids,werunalongtheboardwalk,upashortriseandaregreetedby
theocean.Thesunissparklingonthewater.Sailboatsarebreezingbyoffinthe
distance.Gorgeoushomeslinethecoastforasfarasmyeyecansee.
ShamanGuyleadsmedowntothebeach.Wekickoffourshoesandwalkalongthe
water’sedge,dartingawayfromthewavesthatlaptheshore.Gordafrolicsinthe
sand.We’reallhappytobeoutofthetruckandshakingoffthelongdrive.
ShamanGuyandIclamoruponabigrockandmybodyletsoutadeepsigh.“Iused
tocomehereeveryday,”ShamanGuysays,“Itwasmypowerspot,myplaceto
dream.”
“It’sbeautiful,”Iconcur,meaningitsincerely.
Afteralongpause,hesays,“I’mgladthatIcannowsharethiswithyou.”
Igivehishandasqueeze,“Metoo.”
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IclosemyeyesandShamanGuyfollowssuit.Islipintothedreamtime.Ifeelmyself
snakingmywaybackacrossthecountry,followingourpathbacktothePacific
Ocean.IgreettheoceanthatIwassofamiliarwith,theonethatwasmyanchorasI
exploredaworldfarfromPittsburgh,asIgrewintomyyoungadultself.ThePacific
absorbedmytearsasIwentthroughheartbreak,anditswavessoothedmysoulasI
tookmyfirststepsawayfrombeingtiedsotightlytoeverydayreality.Ithadbeen
mytouchstoneasIletgoofmyGoodGirl,letgoofmyexpectationsofmyselfand
embracedandembodiedmywisdomwithin.Itwitnessedmytransformationand
myweddingtothemanofmydreams.Ihadthrownarockintoitswatersjustthree
monthsearlier,symbolizingmywillingnesstoleapintotheunknown.AndhereIam
now,wheretheunknownhasguidedme.
ShamanGuymovescloser,wrappinghisarmsaroundme.Ourbodiesconvulse,
shimmywithpleasure.
“Ohboy,”thatlittlevoiceinmymindsaidwithamusement,“Haven’tevenbeenhere
foranhourandalreadyyou’remakingloveonthebeach.Whatwillthelocals
think?”
“Hey,”Ihearanothervoicerespond,“Atleasttheyarefullyclothed.”
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“Humph!”thefirstvoicescoffs,“NewEnglandisn’tgoingtoknowwhathitit.”Isigh
andsettlemyselfmoresecurelyinShamanGuy’sembrace.Wearehere.ShamanGuy
andShamanGirlhavearrived.Watchoutworld,there’sanewrealityintown.
Agustofwindkicksupthewavesandtheoceansprayhitsusfullforce.Thisblows
allthevoicesaway.Ourenergyradiatesout,coveringthecliffsandcraggycoast,the
homes,thepeoplewehaveyettomeet.
HereIam.Livingintheunknown.Threethousandmilesawayfrommysafetyneton
theoppositecoast,onwhatfeltliketheothersideoftheworld.
Ismiletomyself.FromSt.LouistoLosAngelestoSanDiego,Ihadcertainlygone
beyondmycomfortzone.Butovertime,eventhewackyworldofMioandfriends
hadbecomecomfortable.Yes,itcametimetoshakemylifeupagainandentera
wholenewterritory.
IfeelaspaceopenwithinmeasIreachouttothisplace,totheoceaninfrontofme
now.Firstaneddyandthenavortexofenergyrisesup,spiralsaroundme,liftingmy
hairoffmyshoulders.Ishiverslightlyatitspower.
IshiftmyweightandleanintoShamanGuy.Wemeltandmerge.Ismileagain.How
couldIhaveeverdoubtedthis?
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HereIam,Life.Iamhere.Useme.Takeme.Iamyours.
Finally
Herecomesthebride…Alldressedinwhite…
Okay,okay,soIwasn’tdressedinwhite;Iwasinallblack,headtotoe,aswas
ShamanGuy.But,ShamanGuyandIweretyingtheknotforthethirdtime–
“officiallyandlegally”atSwami’sGardeninCalifornia.Itwasacrisp,sunnydayin
December,Pinkwasofficiatingwithaminister-for-a-daylicense.AirMan,Tita,and
Mannyweretheonlyhonoredguestsinattendance.Westoodinfrontofthebench
whereitallstartedandmadeittherealdeal.AndShamanGuysurprisedmewitha
realdealdiamondring.
Afterafewmonthsoflivinginspiritualweddedbliss,theaccountant’sdaughter
pokedherheaduptoquestionwhyweweren’tlegallymarriedtotakeadvantageof
marriedcoupletaxcredits,nottomentiontohavetherightstohavehealth
insurance,makedecisionsforeachothershouldweeverbehospitalized,orGodforbidincaseofdeath.Fortheseratherromanticreasons,Icamearoundtotheidea
ofbeinglegallymarried.
Whiletheceremonywasashortandsweetandwithoutmuchfuss,Iwassurprised
todiscoverthatbeinglegallymarrieddidchangeeverythingenergetically.Sending
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inthe“justapieceofpaper”meantthatneitheroneofuscouldwalkawayfromour
marriagewithoutthehassleofadivorce.Notthateitheroneofuswereinanyway
inclinedtowalkawayordivorce,butadeeperbindingoccurredthatcarriedus
throughtheupsanddownsofbeingnewlywedsinanewtown,withlittlemoney,no
community,andaShamanGirlwhocouldhardlydressherself.Iwaspleasantly
surprisedattheaddedtiesbeinglegalbroughttoourspirituallystrongunion.
HereIstand,onceagain,abride.Ilookdeepintomyman’seyes,mylegaland
spiritualhusband’seyes,andamtakenbythelovethatexistsbetweenus.Isee
myselfsayingyeswhenheaskedmetomarryhimonourfirstdate.Iseemyself
standingbeforehimontopoftheSun,sayingyeswithallmyheartandsoul.Iseeus,
justupthecoast,infrontoffriendsandfamily,sayingyesagain,makingthatleap
intotheunknown.Andnowhere,yes.Yes.Yes.
AsImeltintohiseyes,myinnervisionshiftsandIseehowlifeworks.Icandoubt
myself,mychoices,myman.Whendoubtliveswithin,evidenceappearsbeforemy
eyes.Yes,therehavebeenmanytimesoverthepastfewmonthswhenIdoubted.My
moveappearedtobeanunfortunatechoice.Maybeevenacatastrophe.
Andyet,inafewblinksofaneye,afewmoremilesdowntheroadoraroundthe
bend,Ilandhere.Fulloffaith,inanextraordinarydream.Physicalbeauty.Great
powerandenergy.Connectiontomylove.Unboundingcertaintyinlifeandin
myself.
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Mypowerlayinmychoice.WhatwouldIchoosefromthisdayforth?
Icouldnotseethefuture,butIcouldfeelit.
Icouldputmyattentiononwhatwasrightbeforemyeyeswhenlifelookeddismal.
OrIcouldchoosetokeepgoing,tohavefaith,totrustmyself,totrustLifeandall
wouldtransformitself.Iwouldbemagicallytransportedtoanotherspace.
Itwasasifthesetwodreamswerecoexistingside-by-side.Anditwasmychoice
aboutwhichoneImadereal.
Iwasherebutthiswasn’ttheendoftheroad.Therewasnomakingit.Therewasno
“thisisit.”Therewasenoughandtherewillbemore.Therewasacceptanceandthis
willtransform.Therewaspower,somuchwisdomandpower,andtherewere
comingrevelationsandevolutionsandrevolutionsaroundthesun.Iamhere.Now.
AndNow.AndNow.
ShamanGuystepsnearer,wrappinghisarmsaroundme.Ashappenseachand
everytime,whetherontheEastCoastorWest,theproximityofourtwobodies
causesustoshudder.Ourenergieswerecomingling.Shimmeringanddancing,
causingourbodiestoshakewithpleasure.
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Withsoftgaspingcries,weareweddedinbliss.
EPILOGUE
Andthen…
Manymoonsago,Titausedtoteasemeaboutmynighttimedreams.Theywhere
epic,fullofsetchanges,scenechanges,costumechanges,characterchanges.
SometimesI’dhavedreamswithindreams,whereI’dwakeupoutofonedreamand
intoanother.Therewereflyingdreamsanddreamsinplacesofpowerfromthe
daysgonebyanddaysyettobe.Occasionally,I’ddreamwithothershamansorlight
workers,receivingblessingsorshaktipat(whichafterIawokeIlearnedwhatthat
wordmeant:antransferofdivineenergyfromonepersontoanother).
Titalovedtodoaformofdreamanalysisandmydreamswererichfodder.I’d
launchintoadream,describingwhatIcouldremember,goingonandon.We’d
inevitablyendupinbelly-laughterbecausejustasI’dbewindingdown,I’dsay,“Oh!
Andthen…”andoffI’dgodetailingthenextepisodefrommydreamlandscape.
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Inmywakinglife,myday-to-daydreamalsofeelsepic.JustwhenIthink,“Thisisit!
Whatmorecouldpossiblyhappen?Itcan’tgetanybetterthanthis!”I’llhave
another“Andthen…”
Here’saglimpseofwhathasgonedowninthelastdecadeorsoinShamanGirl’s
Life:
ShamanGuyandIbrokecampinMarblehead,crashingathiscousin’shousefora
chaoticmonthofthreechildren,twodogs,andfouradultsalllivinginafrigidlycold
andancientNewEnglandhouse,theoneShamanGuyhadrenovatedwhenhefirst
arrivedinMarbleheadyearsago.Asthedaysandnightsgrewcolder,Ipiledonmore
andmorebulkylayersuntilShamanGuywonderedwherehiscute,sexywifehad
gone.Wefoundatinyapartmentbelowthetownhall’sclocktowerwithitshourly
bellsa-ringing,andIcrawledintobed.Forthewinter.(Asinliterally,not
figuratively.)Ionlyemergedtocookanoccasionalmealandtakemonthlytripsback
togoldenland–CaliforniatoourbelovedDreamingandforourthird,andfinal,
weddingatSwami’s.
Thatwinter,Iwentdeep.Iwentin.SodeepandsointhatIwonderedifI’deverfind
mywaybackouttoanysemblanceofparticipatinginanormaleverydaylife.Ilived
inthedarkunderworldofanothertimeandspace.Irambledthroughhazy
corridors.Ibecamelostforhoursstaringoutwindowsatfrozentreesbranches.
Whew.AmazedthatShamanGuyhunginthere.
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Igotverystillandveryquietuntilasparkoflifewasreignitedwithinmysoul.
Afterhibernatingthroughalong,coldNewEnglandwinter,Ieventuallyemerged
frommyratherunattractiveUnionJackjammiesanddonnedequallyun-sexycold
weatherappropriategearandstartedmakingmywaybackintotheworld.During
thisnotsoprettyandratherbleaktimeofbeingstillandgoingwithin,Iconnected
onamuchdeeperleveltomyShamanGirlself.Igottoknowmyselfintimately,
withoutthemaskoftheGoodGirl.Outofthedarknesscamethelight.
Inhindsight,livingontheLeftCoastwasmerebabystepstowardfindingmyselfand
myownpowerontheRightCoast.Andwhatajourneyithasbeen.JustwhenIwas
absolutelyconvinceditwouldnever,everendandI’dnevereverbeinspiredto
createanythingever(never!)again,Ibeganwriting,teaching,andlifecoachingon
theEastCoast.Ourdreamgrewandexplodedseveraltimesover.
Lifeaccelerated.Dreamsunfurled.Creationsmanifestedseeminglyovernight.
ShamanGuyandIcrawledourwayoutofdebtandwentontocreateamillion
dollarplusconstructionbusiness.Wemanifestedhomes(notjustone,butthree).
WeboughtourfairytalehouseintheNorthernwoodsoutright.
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We’vetravelledaroundtheworld–toMexico,Italy,Ireland,France,andalloverthe
UnitedStates.
WhileinMexico,thecalltobecomeamotherstirredinmyheart.Twoweekslaterin
Ireland,ShamanBoywasconceivedinoneofthewildestnightsofmylife.Igethot
justthinkingaboutit.
Sincethenmanyother“twoweek”manifestationsfollowedwhileIbumbledthrough
beingawifeandlovertoShamanGuy,aMamatoShamanBoy,aMegsytoKaiand
Wren,abusinesswoman,apetowner,awriter,andaTVshowhostuntilIsaid,“Too
much!”andre-createdmylifeonceagain.
Andthen…
Thestorygoesonandon.Butthesetalesaremeantforanothertime,inanother
book.(Iknow,groan,youwantmore.)AndIpromisetherewillbe.Butfornow,asI
havebeenlearningoverandoveragain,thisisenough.Iamenough.Iamhappy
withwhatishere,now.
Eachday,IgoalittledeeperandembracetheShamanGirlwithinmeabitmore.I
meditate.Ifindwaystoexpressmyselfthatareuniquetomeandnotjust
regurgitationofwhatmyteacherstaughtbeforemeorwhoIthinkIshouldbe.
SometimesGoodGirlmakesavisitandIlaughatmyselfuntilshemeltsintomy
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warmembrace.Inolongersitinmyofficebymyself,butrathersharemyself,my
story,mygiftswiththeworld.IlovefindingotherShamanGirls,hearingtheir
stories,andcheeringthemonastheyembracetheirShamanGirlbadselves.
Mydeepesthopeforyouisthatmystoryhassomehowtouchedyourheart.That
youcanrelatetosomestruggle,sometriumph,someyearningthatalsoliveswithin
you.Formyguess(andI’mintuitive!)isthatyouareaShamanGirl(orGuy–hi
there,thanksforjoiningtheparty)ifthisbookisinyourhands.Welcometothe
tribe.
Sohowwillyoutellyourstory?Whatwillyoudowithyourpreciousgiftoflife?I
wouldlovetoknowandsowouldtheworld.Thisisatimeofawakeningaroundthe
planetandweneedShamanGirlslikeyoutostepup,goin,andthenshareYOU,
authentic,beautiful,messy,evolvingYOUwiththerestofus.
It’stime.Youknowitis.
Goshinesister.Shine.
Findyourtruelovenow–withinyourself.Createconsciousrelationships.Manifest
abundance.Embracemindfulparenting.Connecttosource.
Letyourlightbeblindinglybright.Namaste.
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