As a blogger I often wonder what to write about and how far into my insides I want to go. I wonder what the focus and purpose of this all is for myself and why I chose to do it, much less continue to. I wonder if this blogland is a way for souls that are of a like mind to connect in ways that they never have the opportunity for. Do we write to bring light not only to our lives but maybe to touch others that yearn for those of a like mind but who cannot be found closeby? I know that when I was a teen full of all my questions about life, that I had nowhere to turn to find someone who was like me or who could even understand the world I saw. That baseline of "aloneness" has been one that remains. When I find another who walks a similar Path, I get excited and feel more alive. I don't know where my words touch, or why I get the idea to write them, or what it is all about on a deeper level.
Sometimes I write posts that tweak me. It pushes my buttons that people I don't know are now privvy to my innermost guts...my secret self. Reminds me way too much of The Burning Times. There have been posts that were too raw and got deleted before much of anyone read them. Perhaps this one will end up the same way.
Then Alambra came to mind and it was clear that if I decided to write, he would be the topic.
But, how to tell the story? It is a long one...two posts? Not sure...maybe. For those who are interested in things "woowoo," know this may be one you want to return to when you have more time. If you have no interest in the places a spirit can go, then time to go to the next blog.....
It's not a belief: I know there are past lives. Why? Because I have gone back a number of times and I know. No one will ever be able to convince me that my experience was not real.
In 1987, my dad had died. I was pregnant with Babygirl (and have had pain around what I exposed her to...part of the stuff I have about our dynamic...but that is another story). Neither of these has anything to do with the place I was already at spiritually, but I think they added to the overall intense energies of the time of great Transition. I was also ending my stint as a Midwife because I was crispy fried burnt out.
Rhea, Anne and I were doing lots of Tarot, ritual, journeying together on SpiritPath stuff. One of the things we investigated along the way was channeling. We got this book called "Opening To Channel," by Sonaya Roman. In it were exercises to open yourself to get in touch with your personal Spirit Guide/Channel Spirit. One Sunday while my family was at church, I decided to do the meditation and meet my guide.
I got myself comfortable, went within and started the journey. Whenever I have done any systematic journeying to meet guides, no matter who the teacher I have encountered, there is always a sort of going into a space, the "seeing/sensing" my body moving in a certain pattern in space...turn left, then right then go through an opening of some sort, go down a root of a tree...etc. In this Journey, I went up a spiral staircase. Excited, apprehensive, wondering...I felt each step, looking around at my surroundings until I reached the top....where....
Stop. Look. Gasp...there on the door was a blinking neon sign that read "Do Not Enter." I remember having all sorts of flashes of thoughts....and on instinct, decided this was ego games trying to get me to not move forward spiritually. So I put my hand on the doorknob, turned it, and entered the room to find a bed. In the bed was Linda Blair in all her "Exorcist" glory: green face, split skin on her forehead and cheeks, those weird eyes. She was hissing and saying things-don't remember what. What I do remember is thinking, again, that this was Ego Cayote Trickster, trying to keep me off course. I walked up to her, put my hand on her face to remove the mask. The same face was underneath.
It was time to go now. I walked out the door, down the steps and came out of trance, shaking. What the fuck was that all about?????
A week or so later, I went to see one of my Healer Witchie Women Friends. She is an acupuncturist/herbalist and person who facilitates past life regressions. I told her about the journey and asked for feedback. She suggested a past life regression.
I go to sit in 'the chair' with a large crystal in each hand. I get comfortable and begin...there I am last year, five years ago, ten years ago, in high school....ten, five, a toddler, a baby....in the womb....there is the tunnel of light....then.....
I am a man. I am standing above a crowd of people on an elevated platform of some sort. I have black hair and brown skin...I am wearing a skirt thing of some sort..I have a gold armband on.
This armband, as well as my arm, are upraised. There is blood streaming down. The blood is there and the arm is up because it is holding a heart. A beating human heart that I have just taken out of someone and am holding up for the crowd to see.
Fwoosh, this present body is in crisis....I cannot move, I cannot breathe, I cannot move, I cannot breathe. I am feeling all this man, Alambra, feels. I feel POWER, I feel anger, sneering hissing jeering rage.
Cannot move, cannot breathe, all sorts of voices going on inside my head and entering my consciousness from different areas of my brain. Me, in this time, is freaking out, I am trying to protect my baby inside me from all this, I now understand why I was called to Midwife souls in, I understand why I am a vegetarian. I am afraid, I cannot move, I cannot leave this place, I cannot breathe.
Then I hone in on a voice from above my head....a little bit back and above on the left...she is gentle, she soothes me...she tells me all is well, I am safe, just flow, all will be OK. I am safe, I am here in this body that is alive right now.
I have learned over the years that there is a part of me that is always vigilant and will keep me safe, or as safe as I need to be. I flashed on a piece I had read one time about a man who was caught in an active meditation with the Tarot Devil and could not get out. He mustered all he could to move his pinky finger and broke the trance. I did the same. I returned, opened my eyes.
I now saw that my facilitator was freaked, too. She told me that there had been a black cloud of smoke swirling around my head. I never did figure out if she meant in real life, but thought it was probably more likely, in her mind's eye. She did share with me later that she had a very hard time cleansing the crystals. They had to be buried for two weeks to get all that out of them.
I felt sick. Had a very difficult time driving home and probably shouldn't have even tried, given my body's lack of ability to move much...given how much I was crying from the trauma of all that I had just experienced....given that my little world of thinking myself a 'good' person was now torn to shreads. An illusion. I had done evil.
As the days went on, I decided to go to another healer, to try for another's perspective. She suggested going back, but this time with protection and the intent to find out how he had gotten that way. We went back. This Journey found me in him when he was a very small boy...age four or five. Alambra had already been recognized by the Priests as a Shaman and I got the sense that he was "pledged" for the Temple and was going to leave his family soon. I could feel that Alambra and his Grandfather were very close. As we watched the water flow, Eagle soared above and we went inside Him, flying with Him.
Flash forward to his teen years when he has now been a student in the temple for years. I see his main mentor/teacher. He is a rotund, repulsive man with beady rat eyes. He sees/senses me, Gillette, and glares at me, but says nothing. In another scene, I see a young woman that I know Alambra loves with all his heart...he adores her and she him. And I know that rat eyed mentor and the other teachers have decided that because he loves her so much, she is the first person that he must sacrifice as his rite of passage to priesthood.
I am desolate for them.
In my journeys to past lives, there are varying consciousnesses that intersect. I see the scene from the outside as an observer. I can feel my identity as Gillette. Simultaneously, I can feel everything and sense everything from the inside of the person/life/me I am visiting. I think with them, I see scenes from their eyes. I also "know" who certain players are that correspond to people in my now life. I cannot go into those heads, but I do "get" an overall sense of what their thoughts/the why's of their intent/the bigger life issue that they have and an understanding of the dynamics of the soul participation and the relationships for that life. There is a sense of the time it is in, and an overall view of the person's history. Images of scenes come in snippets like memories...I have no idea where they come from or what will come my way. Some journeys give more insight than others. Usuually, I experience all this as an overseer, but the life I visiting does not sense me. The only way I can describe it is: weird.
This was not the case with Alambra. The third time I visited him was after much despair about his choices and my quest to find a way to make him stop. I found him in a cave. It was dark, with only a torch in a far corner. He was lying on a slab of stone in deep meditation. I felt/sensed him drawing on dark energies he believed gave him power, but just "stood" there watching him. Suddenly he opened his eyes and demanded that I leave. I do not remember the whole conversation, but I remember me trying to convince him, appealing to all that is holy to stop and choose differently. That his choices effected all times and lives, thousands of souls' times and lives, and that he had an obligation to consider the whole and STOP!
I remember him looking at me with anger in his eyes and telling me that his life was his to choose and that it was my task to learn to live with the knowledge of this darkness that is also me. He would not consider stopping now or ever. I was commanded to leave and never return.
I am not sure how this all works, but I have never gone back. The journey to acceptance of the Dark and my place in it has not been easy. But it has been a great Teacher. I am not prepared to write about it all, as I don't know if I could ever find the words to convey the understandings I learned in all this. This is just what happened and the journey to wholeness continues.
Which brings me to a wondering of why so strong the message to write of him on this blog as its pretty fucking scary to do so.
And then, while walking to get a glass of water and to calm my shaking body in the remembering of all this stuff, I got a flash about a possibility:
A few posts ago, I wrote about someone in my life. I did it with anger and disdain for him.
I love the universe...and see that it could very well be that Alambra came in to remind me that although this person is not someone who I want to be around, I have much more that is not of the light on my soul than he has done here, this round. He may have done harm to many, but not in the ways that I have. Alambra is not all of me. His stuff is not all of who he is. In the end, it's all just The Dance.
Blessings for the Gift of being called on my shit whenever I point the finger out. And Blessings for doing it in the public arena. Wonder if this post will stay?