From Standing Rock to The End of the Summer Part 1 of 5

​I've been quiet about what I have journeyed through these past several weeks. Last I wrote, I was going through a hermit stage; oftentimes thinking I just needed a cave out in the wilderness - with WiFi, hahaha!

Things have not been *quite* right since my time in Standing Rock in December of 2016. For a few months, I was going through what could only be described as "Post-Standing-Rock Depression". There will be several of you out there who also went that will be familiar with what I speak of. I had trouble re-integrating back into my life in Albuquerque. Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if I would have went towards Chicago instead; with the intent to walk the "Camino" in Spain?

One thing that was really bugging me was a semi-physical sensation that I felt 24/7 - it would be at the base of my skull in the back, and it felt like millions of tiny ants biting away at me. The sensation would be very subtle, but it was enough to be noticeable and bother me. It would ebb and flow, increase intensity, decrease at-will. It was most prominent in heavily urbanized places. My nickname for it is "interference". I did not feel this sensation before Standing Rock. I just had a feeling that it was always there, but I was not conscious of it until I experienced all that I experienced at Standing Rock. I also saw that there was something I would call "Cultural Contamination" everywhere. From our food, to thoughts, to our reactions, to our thinking. I later learned from the activists I was meeting with that this was called "colonial thinking" or "imperialist mindset" or "oppression mindset".

As the months passed by, and I lived a low-profile existence inside a small trailer at The Source; I started to look at everything in my life; the people I have interacted with; the concepts, beliefs, truths, and realities that I was exposed to and even took on board; they all suddenly seemed not-all-right. 

It was like looking at an immaculate painting; with many details done with love; absolute beauty that only a masterpiece could be... except it was one millimeter off on the canvas! Inexplicable, you say! I would agree; after all, how can a painting be OFF on a canvas?! It always is where it is, because it is a creative endeavor, not some scientific or mathematical thing. 

Thing was, I could see a faint impression where that painting was to be, and where the actual painting was, it was off, creating a strange overlay effect. It just was not right for me. No truth, no reality, the people, the concepts, the beliefs - none of them were quite right. I started to reject all of it; but with no alternative to go with. The off-ness was so subtle, that anybody else that looks at it will not see what I see, and at the time; I could not see this well enough or even articulate or put into words that others could understand; that I could even understand on an intellectual level.

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In Feburary, a friend at The Source (Janice) was giving free mini-sessions for a day, and I took her up on it; and the reading basically said that I knew how to directly connect to the Divine; and that I knew the difference between this connection and the connection to spirit guides, angel beings, etc etc. I was to connect to the pure unconditional love of the Divine whenever I needed it and that I already knew how to do this. I did not quite understand or make much use of this at the time, since even though I am told I knew how; I consciously did not know how. I had experiences of this but could never really do this on-demand. In hindsight, I am grateful to Janice for giving me what turned out to be the second hint of what was about to happen down the road.
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Another (now former) friend (Renee); has had several conversations with me about co-dependency; being conscious about my words; being mindful of others' situations when speaking; and basically was telling me that I could be doing so much better and that I know better. The last couple of interactions turned into an angry expression. Same theme - I am told that I am XYZ and should embody it; but that is far from where I am actually at. There was much resentment on my part because I am being admonished for not being the person I am supposed to be. It is as if people only had an idea of me; instead of actually meeting me for who I am. I have had several people in my life that also did this; including my mother. Despite my anger and resentment towards Renee; I do have Gratitude towards her because those were indeed areas I found I desired to work on; not towards what her idea of me is; but rather my own version of it; while holding a middle finger towards her.
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After getting back from Standing Rock, I got involved with the local activist / social justice efforts in town, as President Trump was now in the Oval Office and many people got involved to try and change things. We Are One River; Divest Bernalillio; and Indivisible Nob Hill. After a couple of months, I realized that there were multiple layers at play here; that it was a lot like pro-wrestling in the 1980's, where the conflict and sides were contrived, and it was just a manipulation from the "higher ups". Puppets controlled by the puppet-master, who in turn are also puppets to yet other puppetmasters; controlled by yet more, and indirect puppet-masters; and in turn ultimately controlled by a yet unseen, unknown puppet-master(s). I then knew that this was not the level of role I wanted to participate in. I asked the Universe to guide me to the place where the right at the highest levels of the manipulators / puppet-masters were at. At Standing Rock, I made a commitment to do my utmost to be one of many planetary guardians; and asked the Universe how I might best do this - the answer came back was to continue to work on myself and along the way, the connected stuff will come along. So I withdrew from those three groups and went into hermit-mode.
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The summer started and I had plenty to be distracted by. I was working with a client that I will refer to as "horse man" that needed a series of tech-work. A summer that starts with intense allergies versus Juniper and Mulberry trees. I never had these allergies before, and it was hitting me really hard. I had a Pranic healing session with Rita who did some really intense and thorough cleaning work on my body; which significantly reduced my allergic reactions to those two things; but I also developed some sensitivities to some artificial products, food items with artificial ingredients, etc.

I also needed to leave The Source and get back into roaming mode again; as well as a need to be away from the more urbanized parts of the city as that "interference" was really driving me nuts now. So I spent three weeks house-sitting for two people in more remote places; then I ended up staying with a friend in her spare room in the South Valley.

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There was a nice little event in the beginning of June, which I describe as New Mexico's rendition of Burning Man by the local spiritual, metaphysical community called 3SidedWhole. I went up twice, and on the second time, it was a day excursion with another friend, Susan. While there, we were drawn to a tent display with a bunch of Crystal Skulls. I looked at a few that I felt drawn to; and one of them was made of "Red Obsidian". At the base of this skull was a curved area, and I suddenly thought, "That curvature is the exactly the same as the bald spot on my head!" So, I put that skull on my bald spot; closed my eyes; sat down; and started breathing with the intent of sitting with this Skull.

Suddenly, there was this hazy image of a surface on an immense building and the view of it was shifting, almost like a pan and zoom tour. I looked and started to focus in, and the view focused and I could see glyphs and subtly delineated tiles on the surface of this building. The glyphs were mathematical in nature; and there were many of them on this building. I suddenly realized that I knew many of these glyphs! I recognized them from the vision I had as a thirteen year old - The Immortality Formula! The tour continued and revealed more and more of the structure; then ended after a while later.

I opened my eyes and related this experience to the lady who was minding the tent. She told me that I described Tikal in Guatemala. I was thunderstruck. What are the chances that I would have a half-baked vision about a place I have never heard of or seen?! The last time this happened; was four years ago when I beheld the painted art of flowers that reminded me of The Immortality Formula. That inspired me to leave my life in California and journey for 5 months across the country to meet the artist and study her work further in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. Here it is again, a half-baked vision and that feeling to go journey. It is time to resume my travels.
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I ended up at a house party hosted by Dr. Blue of 3SidedWhole a couple of weeks after that event; and during that time, they served some sacred mushroom tea. I never had the opportunity to partake in that particular kind of plant medicine; and I had been curious about it. With many prior warnings from friends that I need to be around people I could really trust; I sat with a young woman I had only interacted with a few times and felt really comfortable with.

I started to feel really relaxed, which is a familiar sensation to me; and felt a prompting from within that things were about to get extremely rough; but that I have spent many years training for it, preparing for it. I felt apprehension at first; but was too relaxed to actually act on that feeling.

I started to fall asleep; and felt the sensations that I was entering dream-land. Suddenly, a really bright light was shining into my eyes, flooding it with bright absolutely blinding light; piercing every cell in my eyeballs, the light reflecting from the walls of my eyeballs, so I was immersed in all forms of light. I tried to move my arms; only to find that they were tied to a rough metal chair and I found myself firmly planted into the chair with thick and large zip ties; and my calves were similarly zip tied to the legs of the chair; and the chair itself was welded to the metal floor.

A large shadow stooped in front of the light. I could not see the shadow; but I felt the anger, malice, and cold intention. Pain erupted from the left side of my jaw and I lurched to the right. I felt cracking in my bones. Another pain eruption from the right and I went to the left. My arms were straining against the chair as I moved; involuntarily. Pain slithers harshly across my arms as they chafe against the zip ties; despite how tight they were against me.

"C'mon, tell us what you know!"

I stayed silent. I had no idea what they were referring to. I suddenly remembered that torture is not used to extract actual truth; it is to coerce one to say whatever the torturers want you to say under extreme duress. There was no point of speaking.

Mechanical whirring revs up and the shadow steps away and a clear look at a long drill bit replaces it. I see glints of light reflecting off it and I can see it clearly. It stays in front of my field of view for a moment.

There was pinpoint pressure against my right leg, just above the kneecap; which quickly evolved into a penetrating sensation of pain that pulsated outward from that point through my entire leg. It bored deeper and deeper into my leg; rending flesh asunder; with no resistance. Pain now flooding my entire being. Oddly though, this was nowhere near as bad as my father's precise burning of my finger. That pain melded with my rising anger. Anger which promised to return it to the torturer, ten times as intense. The more intense the drill pain became, the more I screamed in anger, letting that pain merge with that anger, and letting that anger build into intent of retribution.

I felt an exit hole from underneath my leg, right next to the underside of my knee; and felt the drill pole schlick up to the hilt of the drill. Burning flesh smell wafted up; not unlike pork. The drill was quickly withdrawn; blood and flesh bits with it.

I was disappointed that the pain did not increase; because I wanted to increase my anger and potential for retribution. My eyes burned from the light; merging with my anger towards the torturer. I stayed silent; focusing what pain and anger I could retain into that intent.

I felt disappointment from the shadow; who clearly was expecting something different. In an effort to build the anger anew; I ground my teeth together and focused all the anger into it. The shadow withdraws and momentarily returns with objects in both hands. A hammer and large blunt chisel; rusted to perfection.

The chisel is jammed into my left leg, midway between my groin and knee, towards the bone; quickly followed by a quick and precise strike by the hammer. Duller, yet jarring pain whistled out of my left leg; followed by a huge booster as the hammer drove the chisel home. I felt bone break; and by this time, this pain simply joins the flood of pain throughout my entire being. I no longer needed to grind my teeth; as the pain and anger threshold got an abundant refresh and I had no trouble packaging it into the intent of retribution.

Frustration from the shadow. Clearly I was not offering the outcome it needed.

What came next was a hail of hits, kicks, strikes delivered all over. An attempt to beat and obliterate me into submission. These did not touch the intensity of the pain and anger I already had. They came as icy pinpricks that bounced off the surface of my sensations. Pick. Pick. Pick. Pin. Nothing.

Somehow the chair is torn from the floor and now tipped over and I am on my side. My legs in pieces, my arms a bloody pulp and mess; and my body in an unknown state. The shadow leaves, the light clicks off, and I am left in the cold, metallic darkness; with just jagged breaths from myself to accompany me.

I had won. I am still alive, though in pieces, but still alive! I realized that I was prepared; as I faced my worst fears of what might happen; and it was nothing comparable to what my biological father put me through. All that training paid off. I was ready to face whatever may come next.

Electronic music somehow faded into my consciousness and I opened my eyes. I was whole again. I could move. I had no blood on me. I looked left. No pain. I saw a tall lanky guy in long dreadlocks playing some electronic rig which was where the music came from. I slowly swiveled my head right and there was the young woman I sat with, deep in trance. I was also not tied to the chair with zip ties. I felt an odd sense of silent, void peace come over me. I had never felt this before. It was so empty and silent that I was fidgeting. I had no idea what to do with this sensation; I could do nothing except immerse in it. It felt wonderful. For the first time in my life, I felt confident that I could move onto whatever would came next. I was back at Dr. Blue's house party.
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I had mentioned in a long post earlier this year that I was about to navigate through a long, dark, place that had low chances of survival; not unless I prepare adequately; and that I was looking forward to forging a new kind of story. I feel ready for this. This is the end of Part 1 of 5 of my journal for 2017 thus far - Da Setup. More to come! Thanks for reading this!