Rosy is a Root - Chapter 4
The Earth is calling for us to change but we don’t know how to change.
I was six years old. The night was very
dark and cold. My mother picked me up from Gaga’s house and like usual I went
to dance class and came home late around seven o’clock. I was surprised when I
opened the door to our home. Everyone on my father’s side was there. People
were in the kitchen, living room, downstairs in the basement, upstairs in my
room and playroom. The moment I walked in I knew but was too young to
understand what I felt. My heart dropped. I felt so happy and yet shy. Everyone
was staring at me, smiling but I knew they felt sorry for me. That was when I
learned the word sympathy.
I did not know most people. Mostly, they
were all strangers and I was kind of upset about that. Why didn’t they show up
for me before? Why now? I never had so many black people loving me all at once.
Mostly, I spent my time with the white side of my family. My father’s side
seemed distant, distracted and unconcerned with me. Their eyes were big like
mine. Everyone had my eyes-brown like honey, oval-shaped like Egyptian
goddesses and strikingly intense that of a psychic. I knew never my eyes were
significant to my heritage and that they are a time capsule, leading to an ancient
past of Native Americans, Africa, the Middle East and in a combination that
fuses together like there once was one race of human infused with all the races
we have today.
I went upstairs with my mother and
Grandmother, Rose. I won’t forget that long walk upstairs. My heart was
dropping further down. They sat me on my father’s and mother’s bed like a
teacher’s conference. I just started to accept that all these people came just
to see me. I felt loved and supported. I realized they didn’t necessarily come
for me. They came because the person that had the biggest eyes of them all died
in the morning my mother had a dream of marigold sun rolling into Shenandoah
valley turning forests into castles for fairies.
The gift transferred into my eyes. I could
see the spirit on the other side but I could not describe the encounter. Never
did I see the way my ancestors could see. I did not come into my gift until
death forced me to open my sight.
I did not cry. I did not scream. I was
patient or maybe I was numb. I cannot remember what happened after that.
Everything before that is so vivid and clear. I suppose I blocked out the
events afterward out of self-preservation. In times of great pain, when we
aren’t strong enough, we suppress or numb to survive. It’s our subconscious way
of keeping ourselves safe. Pain can be dangerous because sometimes we lose
ourselves and destroy ourselves.
I have years missing from my memory. I
cannot fully access ages seven, eight, nine, or ten. It’s all vague and
disempowered. Maybe, I rejected those years. Maybe, I erased those years. I
tried my best to ignore the calling of my ancestors to have their sight. I
could not hold it down any longer by the age of eleven. It broke free like a
tree bursting through a ceramic pot.
I saw him more vividly on the other side
than I saw him alive. I felt what he felt. I could see myself through his eyes.
His life did not end. Our journey ended but at the same time, another began
just in a different space in time.
He asked for my forgiveness. I thought I
gave it to him. I was in denial. I was afraid. I saw him the way any little
girl would see their father-in a place most magical but was it real? I knew he
was leaving this plain of existence and going beyond. He was holding himself
back because he didn’t learn what he needed to in life. He was completing a
life that will always be incomplete because humans are a constant working art.
There is no end. There is no perfection. There is experience and choice and the
way you look at it and there are many ways to look at something.
He showed me what I couldn’t see. I saw us
laying on the grass beside our home. It was spring and the trees were humming
robins. There were flowers in people’s yards and gardens beginning to unveil
their color and shape. We were feeling into the sun, smiling at each other and
talking about the foxes, rabbits and deer near our home.
This was never real. I planted this memory
in deep self-hypnosis to give myself what I needed to feel our journey
complete. I don’t remember much about my father. I see him playing with dolls
with me in my playroom. I remember getting a doll house and being so excited. I
played there for hours, every day. My father would play with me on the weekends,
sometimes for hours just watching me tell stories. I remember playing kitchen
in the basement. I had a little kitchen set and I would pretend to cook food
for my father and he would listen to me tell stories. I was always the talker,
telling imaginative stories that never applied to real life. He wanted to keep
me there because the world he knew wasn’t as colorful or radiant as the world I
knew. His world was working and going fishing to find himself, which isn't a
dull life if you color it in.
My father was highly spiritual, in-tune
like a medium and able to know things like a Shaman. He was subtle and
sensible, fun and serious. He was responsible and dependable but he also was
yearning for something. He thought he could find it in strengthening his
relationship with his father but that wasn’t enough.
A heart-based culture lost is living with
only knowing the self at the world level but the world is fickle and changes to
fit the narrative of the times, but not every narrative is truthful, helpful or
for the greater good of all. There is a knowing of our ancestors and what we are
often doesn’t fit into the world’s current narrative.
The kind of change that decides whether or
not we’ve learned an important lesson that brings us closer to harmony with the
universe happens at the heart level. This kind of change allows us to discern
and discover our potential from the eagerness for personal freedom and
authenticity. It's difficult to change in this way without knowing the
consciousness of the heart. Restricted to only the mind, we progress, we shift,
we understand but the root cannot be seen because it cannot be found there. The
renaissance of change, destructive and creative for the purpose of learning
what is needed to be learned most is an insight the mind only finds when it is
led by the heart.
Change is evolutionary necessity driving
us into the mystery of mastery, urging us to transform, let go and forgive the
ruthless demands of progress, reinvention and reform. The renaissance collapses
what was practical, consistent, habitualized and refashions the worn, outdated
and out of balance structure into a design creatively exalting, harmonious and
experimentally ambitious, bold and wild all for the glory of adventure leading
to meditative accomplishments. We are meditative accomplishments in the arrival
of our being to this school of Earth and the departure. All we take is what we
learn and how we feel.
The death of my father taught me
relentless push to face fear and excel through challenge. After his passing, I
closed myself off to a part of energy and denied myself the opportunity to
understand the importance of death, grief, sorrow and lose. We cannot attach
ourselves to anything because everything must revolve through seasons, cycles
and progressions of itself. Hating death is like rejecting minor cords in
music. We simply cannot play the fullness of our existence like a grand
symphony without allowing death to challenge our beliefs about time, space and
physical and spiritual.
My sight taught me that we are just
spiritual beings having a physical experience. My father is gone but not
really. His body has become star dust but his life force has potentiated itself
further into the mystery of mastery. My yogic science and technology teacher
once said during a course on deathless living-in the death of ourselves we are
asked by ourselves what have you come to learn, what did you do and how do you
feel about it?
Gurujas spoke about going to the cold
place or the warm bar where there are many people. The bar represents our
karmic ties to people, places and things that keep us Earth bound and limited
in our creative expansion due to beliefs, programs, unlearned lessons,
unresolved issues and poor quality of energy keeping us fragmented and at odds
with ourselves. The cold mountain strips us naked of people, places and
things-returning us to our essence where we expand out into infinity with sense
of freedom, wisdom and visionary quality of energy, liberating ourselves of
attachments and ties to beliefs, programs, oaths, promises, burdens,
constructs, concepts, perceptions and ideologies/doctrines that keep us
fragmented and afraid of our totality and greatness to embody karma befriending
dharma.
Snow cleanses the land of buildup of old
energies that need to be recycled for the essence of Gaia to seed new energies
that are creatively charged by the renewal of life force energy. Purifying
itself of toxins accumulated from illusions of separation from source energy
brings revitalization to existence.
My father is a spirit guide-urging me to
expand like the cold mountain, to retrieve my essence in the remembrance of
visionary found in deep rest that takes me inward enough for my connection to
source to be stronger, allowing me to wake/move like a meadow of wild roses in
spring, extraordinary life force energy clear, true and Intune with source of
my spiritual education in the physical initiations and attunements.
Buddhism taught me-karma is the movement
of the mind and what follows and our mission is to free all sentient beings of
suffering by being a vortex of high inspiration, creativity and brilliant
intelligence that can debate with false assumptions about all things that
separate us from our heart and spirit. We learn well lessons for every being to
experience fulfillment of meditative accomplishments brought into
manifestations of excellent movements of reality for all to know their heart
and spiritual potential to create pure wonder through adversity, challenge and
crisis.
Though, Babylon Patriarchal Dark Age has
filled the mind with much discouragement, belittlement, disempowerment,
humankind is ascending out of the long sleep like Plato's Cave-an illusionary
world driven by power, control and deception used to manipulate the people.
Bound to a cave like a labyrinth people are hypnotized negatively into staring
at the wall with projections like shadows telling stories conditioning the
people what to think, how to behave and what to believe, taking away their
sovereignty, dignity and sense of unique identity. The puppet masters are the
people creating projections like shadows onto the walls by standing behind the
beguiled people and ahead of a central fire lighting the cave. Those people
with discernment and fearless curiosity turn around to see godly puppet masters
and break free by wandering the cave system/labyrinth radically trusting their
intuition to find the way out. Having never seen the world above ground, there
must be great strength navigating the illusionary world and stronger sense of
intuition to breakthrough.
Majority of people remain in mass
psychosis because it's easier to live in fear disguised as normal reality.
Those who remain bound to ideologies, programs and beliefs of the puppet
masters go insane because of mental confusion leading to delusion that causes
mental afflictions that manifest an unruly, unethical and spiritually,
mentally, emotionally bankrupt society of immoral standings.
Change can be overwhelming and luminous
like seeing the sun for the first time having lived in a cave your whole life.
It's better to embrace change and follow the intuition-heart-based living than
to remain bound to constant personal problems that destroy what is truth. There
is only mayhem when harmony with the universe is broken into fragments mutated
into greater disconnections. Drained of life force energy from weak sense of
personal power, the spirit is disconnected from the heart, heart disconnection
from the mind and the mind disconnected from consciousness of the Earth.
Without consciousness of Earth humanity cannot achieve meditative
accomplishments and cycles endlessly through lessons never learned. Lack of
growth causing habits, patterns to be consumed by false projections that always
eventually become addictions and perversions.
There is a feeling of death when one steps
into the unknown, surrendering everything they know to follow the intuition,
highest discernment/consciousness. Many people who have near-death experience
return to life with a visionary quality of energy that is more creative,
carefree and focused on following the spirit calling for freedom, harmony,
peace and service to humanity.
There is an exceptional creative vehicle
of genius change inside the passion to learn well all aspects of life. It is
dangers because everything about change is unpredictable, uncertain and
unstable. That is why all beings have strong intuition but to have intuition is
to know heart-based living as the closest reality to how the universe
functions, how God organizes everything into perfectly imperfect being.