Tuesday, April 10, 2012

PACHAMAMA SACRIFICE

Since I moved into this apartment six years ago, I've been working on the Medicine Energies.  One aspect of these energies is the chi of the area.  In order to raise the chi, I began to plant sunflowers and cosmos, because they bring color, seeds for the birds, and most importantly they grow tall enough to raise the chi.  I discovered that in the time of early spring, when the old stalks must be cleared from the beds, there is nothing to raise the chi.  So I scavenged the discarded trunk of a young 'ghetto palm', or Ailanthus tree, which is a weed tree, an invasive species here in Yakima, imported from Taiwan.  It was about ten feet tall.  I dug a hole in the major vortex in the yard, and planted the dead tree.  It stood there for a year, and sure enough, next spring, it was the tallest thing around.  The local starlings hatched their young.  One morning I went out to discover that they had left me a sacrifice.
HANGED STARLING

I puzzled about what sort of 'omen' this represented.  As with many things that happen as a result of my being a Shaman, I got no clear meaning from this event.  I let nature take its course, and the carcass eventually disintegrated and fell to earth.

Since Jesus has become my 'Nagual', and as a result of the Despacho Ceremonies with Karen Chrappa, there have been so many things in my life, that I have been unable to present a record of them in my blogs.

I was visited by the angel Tzadkiel, who gifted me with a flying white stallion named Excalibur, who took me flying through the heavens shooting "Sun Bolts" from my fingers.

I was visited by Quetzalcoatl.  He was a bald man with a large skull whom I've seen before.  With this visit, he drove Buddha from his perch in the Buddha Vortex where I sit, to seek refuge in my scrotum.  This visit put me into a very deep place from which I have yet to recover.  I decided I needed to begin to pull together my memories of some of these events.

When Jesus became a projection from my loins, he continued a task which I had thought he had assigned to me (see my blog Human Sacrifice).  I balked at the job (I have a long history of just walking off the job whenever I'm asked to do something stupid!) so he has taken over.

In my blog for Easter, I was still fogged in by the events of these recent weeks and forgot to mention that before the murders in Afghanistan, he had killed a female park ranger on Mt. Rainier, and caused Josh Powell to set fire to the house with him and his two boys inside.  As a Shaman, my energy field has been expanded to the Dawn of Time, and to the edges of the physical universe.  The energy field awareness is one of my primary means of perception.  Also, the Medicine Energies I have worked to build in my apartment possess their own intelligence, and are another means of perception for me.  Often various spirits will chip in bits of information.  So I'm not just making all this up!

This is all a part of the instruction that comes with a true Shamanic Initiation.

In the early 1990s, only a few years into my Initiation as a Shaman, I took my first journey with Jesus.  A man named Wesley Alan Dodd had mutilated (sexually) and killed a number of young boys, and was awaiting execution in the State Penitentiary in Walla Walla.  On the night of his execution, I was in my trance chair in Ellensburg, and was taken up into a gridwork of red beams of light, the Red Ray (from Katrina Raphaell's "Crystalline Trilogy"), which is the ray of Jesus.

Dodd had remarked that "There is no hope for a guy like me."  Jesus took me to visit him in his cell, just before the guards came for him.  At the execution, his last words were, "I was wrong.  There is hope for guys like me.  Jesus has saved me."  Many years later, after hundreds of thousands of deaths which have happened on my watch, the Voice of the Medicine clued me in about Jesus, in regard to the deaths of the young sons of Josh Powell.  "All those priests in the Catholic Church were molesting the young boys for Jesus."  I took strength knowing that none of the deaths on my 'watch' were my doing.

Over these years of struggle with my Allies, I have come to learn much about the ways of Spirit.  We have come to a New Age.  I call it the Post-Christian Paradigm.  Consciousness has evolved to a point where it is now possible to observe the workings of Spirit through a global lens.  I have Seen exactly how each God is formed from the Medicine Energies of each locale on the planet, in the same way that each Shaman is created from these energies, as a product of his/her culture.  Jesus has shown me the need for these acts of human sacrifice.  I know that I have not yet accepted this need.

So this morning I was seated again in the Buddha vortex, realigning my energies with the A-O-M Intonation.  I was elevated to a place I haven't seen for a long time.

There is a place I go to.  I see the long, reaching bare branches of the Maple Trees behind me, up in the blue sky of winter.  The branches are coated in a white blanket of frozen fog.  It is stunning and beautiful (a Munay experience!)  I eventually decided this represented death.  This morning the coating on the branches was especially thick.  All morning I have been in a heightened awareness that I am losing my ability to carry out the mundane daily tasks of housekeeping and kitchen chores.  Age is taking its inevitable toll on me.  (I'll turn 70 later this year....)

I was reminded of an event which occurred some time around the visit of Quetzalcoatl, the departure of the Anaconda Jesus, and the flight on Excalibur.  I had thought it was linked to the deaths of Josh Powell's two boys.

I was again in the Buddha vortex, and I rose into a lovely flying journey.  I was soaring through the skies, and revisited a scene I had witnessed from a bluff overlooking Puget Sound, near Edmonds.  I had been watching a flock of gulls winging toward the south, out over the waters.  From the north, an Eagle appeared, floated down toward the gulls, until he was right on top of one in the center of the flock, joined with the gull, without any ripple of resistance anywhere in the flock of gulls, and the two flew off to the east.

In my journey, I had soared above a waterfall.  I was riding the rising mists, enjoying the rainbows which surrounded me.  (Suddenly I realized that this was the same waterfall I had been tossed over in another Initiation as a Shaman, by my mentor, who was also my first spirit guide in this present lifetime, Yazzu Kyl Ini Pumu, from the upper Amazon.  Yazzu is now LL Cool J.  The first time I saw LL Cool J on TV, in the early '90s, my third eye popped right out of my forehead like one of those deelybobbers worn by John Belushi.  I had broken my back in the fall, and Yazzu had mended the break with a small crystal cluster, which now sits on my altar....)  At one with the flow of events around me, I was no longer alone, but joined with another.  Whether gull or eagle, I couldn't decide.  We moved with events, and soon became one with the rainbow mists.  I had seen this rainbow mist twice before.

The first time was on the first morning of my Initiation as a Shaman, when the face on the Film Series poster on my wall, my first meeting with Marilyn Monroe, smiled and broke into just this sort of misty rainbow of love.

The second time was when the two guys from the funeral home were loading the corpse of my father from his deathbed into the body bag, and his right arm flung itself toward the ceiling as he waved goodbye to me, and his face broke out into this rainbow mist of love.

This morning the Medicine delivered another message.  All these deaths at the hands of Jesus have been sacrifices he is presenting to me, for me, for my Medicine.  The fact that his return from this latest journey came in a package bringing new crystals into my Medicine gives new power to these crystals.  I still can't figure out why he can't just send someone to help me get the dust off all these things that clutter my apartment!  It's choking me to death!

And don't ever listen to those who tell you not to complain.  I've had no choice, during this Initiation as a Shaman, but to turn misfortune into a sport.  In the Wisdom of the Uninitiated (Avidya, in yoga terms), it's taboo to whine, show anger, complain or fight back.  But as a Shaman, I'll go down fighting, raging, honing my rage into a flaming fury, just to be me.  Namaste

Monday, April 9, 2012

JESUS COMES HOME FOR EASTER

Jesus has become my Nagual-- a projection from my loins, as is common among Shamans of the Amazon regions.  This happened a few months ago, when he slid forth from my loins as a little dirty black dog, and then morphed into a huge anaconda.  He headed straight for the delta of the Nisqually River, which comes down from Mt. Rainier into Puget sound between Seattle and Tacoma.  This region is home of Fort Lewis/McCord.  Immediately, a soldier from that base in Afghanistan murdered 17 Afghani civilians.  Jesus continued on a killing spree until yesterday.
"AUMAKUA"
The Anaconda Nagual drinking at the river.
I received a package in the mail containing some unique crystals.  I had 'seen' a small black object in the box, but it was not there when I opened it.  But a few moments later, Jesus spoke to me in a very tiny, shy voice:  "Hi, Bobo!"  That is one of the names he uses for me.  That was just before the Full Moon on the 6th.
I had buried Jesus and the rest of my Allies a week or so earlier, hoping to finally get rid of them.  I was distressed that it didn't seem to have worked!  (There is a collection of quartz crystals and other semi-precious stones that we have used throughout the twenty years of my Initiation as a Shaman.  Each carries the identity of one of my Allies, and the large Record Keeper carries the agenda of the Return of the Christ, based on a ploy initiated in the days before the Sphinx, in ancient Egypt.  I had cancelled that ploy, after having lived with Jesus for twenty years; it was obvious that the ploy had not envisioned the changing of the times, and that Jesus had failed to adapt to the Post-Christian Paradigm.)  So my years have been filled with battles between me and my Allies, Jesus, Marilyn Monroe, Nefertiti, and others.  I think I am gaining the upper hand, but who knows.

So I have had many encounters with various Deities, Gods, Goddesses, Divinities, and none of them has brought me the qualities I've been looking for.  I refuse to associate myself with inferior Pathways.  I finally came upon the Huna description of the Self, as composed of Higher Self (Aumakua), the Shadow Self, or subconscious, (Unihipili), and the personal self (Uhane).  I've been working for some months to get to know my Aumakua.  On Easter Sunday, I decided to make a painting to bring him into the Medicine.  I meditated and pondered for some time, but no image came to mind.

I decided to resort to my old style of painting, the Surrealist technique of "Automatic Drawing".  This technique brings out elements of the Unihipili, which is home of the Spirit Guides.  Marilyn Monroe and I used this technique for years to do paintings and drawings but I abandoned it when I was exiled to Yakima, and began to attempt to rid her from my life.

Using fingerpainting technique, I scumbled paint across a canvas I've been using to depict the male deities.  This brought out a unique GAZING PATTERN.  After an hour or so, the image popped into the scumble.

The head of the Anaconda can be seen in the lower center of the canvas.  He is at the bank of the river, just reaching down to take a drink.  The body is just barely visible as a line toward the left of the canvas, just above the head.  The water is below, a field of lighter hue, filling the lower right portion, with lily pads and weeds.

Above the creek bank is jungle growth, with a small bird perched in upper left, back toward the viewer, semi-circle dark band on his downward pointing tail.

"So this is my Aumakua!" I whined.  No wonder I have such a messed-up life!  I once sought healing from a woman named Leta Rose, in the Shoreline District just north of Seattle.  Marilyn Monroe had been giving me migraines in the right part of my skull.  As the healer placed her hands on my head, I could hear her guides tell her, "Screw him!  He's the Jew!"  Many other times, I've had people take an instant dislike to me,  for no reason that I could discern.  Now I know that many people can See, and what they See when they See me, is Jesus, in some form or other.

What we learn when we learn what we learn is not always what we want to learn!

I have to give credit to the recent Despacho Ceremonies from Karen Chrappa, for initiating several months of very deep learning experiences for me.