Rosy is a Root - Chapter 3

The great elder once said in lodge that the womb is the universe, the fire is the sun and the spirit trail is our navigation. We navigate energy vast and incomplete to improve the creative story of our being.

A Mayan Time Keeper once told me that the Earth is transitioning into its next phase of evolution and that this will bring crisis and breakthrough to human beings. Only those who have sight of what’s truly going on will know how to survive and where to go, what to do and why. The answer to the why will be extraordinary and beyond the physical. It will be a bridge from the physical to the spiritual, connecting the two again. The two have been separated, disconnected for so long. The Earth is ready to bring two worlds into one being.

I saw myself in places I have never been. I saw Turkey in times very different from now. I saw Peru and a civilization open to the stars. I saw myself in Spain long before the religious wars. They say the Shaman has been greatly attacked and wounded by the Warlock known as the Babylon Patriarchal Dark Age for it has sought out the wisdom to take it away from the people.

What if I told you there is more to our human experiment than what we know and that the stories of Lemuria. Atlantis, Avalon might be more than science-fiction? We remember and then we forget to remember again. The cycle goes on and on and on. I don’t know why we must forget and why we must remember. I think it’s a part of seeing ourselves transform that excites us, exalts us, inspires us. We are fortunate to not live forever because everything is a lot more exuberant that way, deeper and more intense yet most dynamic and complete.

We get to be spiritual, emotional, physical, mental and move all the qualities of energy into this one field of light and dark. When the preacher told me I could not be baptized even though I was baptized as a catholic baby girl because I study and practice Native American spirituality, I did not feel Jesus. I felt separation from Jesus and decided to walk with those who walk fearlessly into the night, unafraid of dangers lurking in the mystery of creation.

My grandmother told me Mary Magdalene is a prostitute and unimportant and yet she is the Apostle of all Apostles, the chosen one to carry the lineage of Jesus into the future. Her Gospels are gone like the spiritual scriptures of many wisdom keepers. The Shaman is hiding. The wisdom is waiting for someone to walk across the bridge most dare not to.

I fell in love with a boy I thought was open but maybe I am too open. People are looking at life through a pea hole through a door. I tend to open the door wide. I was impressed by his college attitude and positive ego. He was loving and eager.

His father was the kind of redneck that would tell the story about car racers staying at motels, sleeping with prostitutes and cleaning their genitals of toxins with car oil, like that makes it better. I ignored the perversions that extended from generation to generation like a bad habit. Three generations of men lived in one house and I was the Cherokee black girl that did not fit into their world. I was a yogic scientist and they were repeating the same karma that didn’t work out well for the last generation.

His best friend told him to break up with me when they both heard the news that his father would stop helping him build his yellow Camaro. I didn’t know my skin color meant that much to his father. I suppose living in a mostly white high school and having a mostly white neighborhood can be restricting to his imagination. I was like Morocco, Bali and Mexico to these rednecks who never saw past their own TV.

It didn’t work out. I was forced to leave. The last day I saw him was the day he drunkenly disrespected my body and then threw me away like trash. It took me years to recover. I never knew back then how many women experience sexual trauma. We don’t talk about perversions weakening man because it's all we know. We were designed to conform to Babylon Patriarchal Dark Age. Only those smart enough, rebel for their own safety and sanity.

White Buffalo Woman came to North America as a message. I suppose she knew what was to become of North America and her people. Her story is known throughout the land. She was born as a white cafe, gentle and close to mother. She watched the people and saw the afflictions, conflicts and separation. She came to the people as a woman testing man. There were two men who first saw her alone. She was absolutely beautiful and pure to her essence.

One man had perverted thoughts and allowed those thoughts to seduce him into having bad intentions toward her. The other man had the same perverted thoughts initially but found strength and chose to be true to his essence, his most sincere thought which is love for the woman. The other man wanted to spoil the woman out of lust, jealousy and power. The man with integrity stood his ground and fought off the other’s perverted thinking. The woman disappeared having observed what she needed to.

She returned with guidance. She knew a great storm was coming, a kind of separation from the essence that could destroy her people’s spirit. She offered them the sacred pipe, taught them how to use it and gave ceremonies to show her people how to transform their hearts in times of great unthinkable disconnect from their peace. She knew her people would be seduced into a way of living that appears greater but the perversions underneath the surface will require great strength to eliminate.

The Babylon Patriarchal Dark Age is ending but only if we pass the test. Two paths lay ahead in the constant dual of humankind. The path of strength and discouragement. One takes a person to the snowy mountain where isolation restores a creative spark. The other takes a person to a virtual reality that unplugs human from their spirit calling.

White Buffalo Woman led me to an extraordinary thinker. I was in Segovia, Spain to study abroad and spent a lot of my time in the fields of tall grasses and wild roses walking towards the mountains. I was searching for something within myself. I didn’t know what to look for but I felt a calling to do something. I returned home and my mother told me about Guru Jagat. I saw her in the fields of tall grasses and wild roses. I knew her long before I met her.

Guru Jagat died the year of 2021 unexpectedly at age forty-one. She was working too hard trying to help us during times of immense crisis. The crisis began long before. No one noticed it until they were forced to. I think the crisis is a call for something else to be expressed that isn’t but must.

Guru Jagat taught me the yogic science and technology of ancient yet present intelligence that knows the Earth like White Buffalo Woman testing man to see if he has learned his lessons. The wisdom keepers know of the sages that facilitate great awakenings for humankind and even in brink of destruction there can be a learned lesson that happens in a single moment.

The repeating of the past is hoping to find inspiration to reinvent itself. For there is nothing more fun-loving than to learn well what wants to be learned. Guru Jagat inspired me to evolve beyond the comforts of my set sense of worth, esteem and abilities. I realized this set sense of worth, esteem and abilities were not totally allowing me to embrace my creative spark.

While in ceremony, led by Mayan Shaman, we embarked upon a journey of soul retrieval. I took the energy Guru Jagat trained me to hold and I found something in the journey. I found the reason for why I came. It’s challenging because it's full of adversity. The world isn’t for the faint of heart.

Humanity is breaking down for major breakthrough. The midwives come to help guide the painful labor of giving birth to a new paradigm. With so much uncertainty and crisis, it's easy to quit right before the breakthrough. That’s why Guru Jagat trained us well to know the energy of the creative spark, unbreakable.

We are the sages of the future. A part of us is dying, the part that is old and ready to be released. On the other side of fear that we won’t make it through the storm is a bison beside us sheltering us from the harsh winds and brutal cold, keeping us warm long enough for the breaking of dawn to show us how to let go for something mysterious and brilliant to take form.