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Kariñu: The Gift of the Shaman Spirit

The angelic voice softly whispers in my left ear and says, "You will die." Immediately my personality reacts and I think, "No, that cannot be. Please, no!" In this state, I am in darkness and the air is thick. In this space, I am afraid. Seconds pass and the voyager within transitions into a place of insight. I realize then, that I have just passed through a space my ancestors call ayacucho (the corner of the dead), a space where I often forget who I am. Afterwards, I laugh and say, "Of course I will die! Death is certain!" And as the remembrance of my Beloved's voice imbues my heart, tears of joy caress my face…because my Angel gives me Truth.

The old ones whisper and guide us. They are heard more so by the innocent mind. I’ve observed that most children are attuned to the frequencies of the Sacred. The influence of the Angels can often be seen in their play. There was a time when these angelic ancestors walked among us and within us, using our bodies as perfect vehicles to Work, honoring, loving, and designing for the sake of the Highest, creating works of art that carried the seed of objective value. Now, however, these beautiful creatures, usually seen as wicked by those who only understand fear, reside behind the veil and whisper truths that destroy the ego and transfix the heart. To walk with them is to walk a pathless land. To walk with them is to remember, to discover who you are. It is an adventure, a journey of a lifetime, resonating with higher emotions of joy and wonderment, and by echoing the rhythms of a child one can see with real eyes and discover that everything is new.

However, there is also suffering and sorrow on this journey to nowhere that transforms the human being into something real. At first the suffering is superficial, but slowly the vessel is refined and the sorrow becomes something pure, something that does not deplete the spirit, but fills it, and from this sorrow love can spring forth.

I hear my Beloved speak when my mind is silent and when I sense and see the world like a child does. The guidance that is received is not bounded by words alone. It has no limits and can materialize in moods and spaces as well. I remember an old memory of a space my Angel created to show me how to find him. I was four years old and running to the pool, convinced that I had to jump in the water. A silent whisper had told me that I needed to do this and instantly I ran. I told no one where I was going, determined to get there in time for something that my young mind interpreted as magic.

When I got to the edge, where the concrete met the water, I dove for the first time, copying the same posture my older sister took when she would dive into the water with a big, silly smile on her face. I did not know how to jump and my head hit the concrete. Before the darkness and blood came I remember the sun's light warming my skin and dancing on the surface of the water. I woke up at the bottom of the pool. I felt heavy like lead and I could not move. My body had become the body of water around it and my young mind surrendered to the loving and warm space that I was in. It was an old and familiar place. It reminded me of the warm embrace of my mother. I was in this state for what seemed like ten minutes. When I came back to my body I realized that I was breathing under water. When the knowledge that this is not possible entered my mind I immediately felt scared and swam to the surface. The top of head was throbbing as I got out of the pool. I remember the image of my hands looking like the shriveled up prunes my grandmother would make me eat.

Afterwards, under the supervision of my mother and sisters, I would swim in the pool and try to breathe under water. I tried and tried many times but I could never do it again. I’d get sad and upset because of it, but then my sisters would play with me and quickly I was happy again. Time passed and social morals, categories, and judgments took hold of me, and less and less I felt the pull of magic—until one day my Angel led me to a man with dark glasses and a black hat. This man, Koyote the Blind, began to destroy me. He tore apart everything I thought I was and this filled me with anger and pain. I screamed and cried over the pieces of me on the floor and I tried my best to put them back on, but I couldn't anymore. I hated him because he kept telling me I wasn't seeing with real eyes. Then one day, I remembered hitting my head on the concrete and falling. I remembered the star water before the darkness and the space my Angel showed me. I looked down at the pieces on the floor in the same mood and space I was in when I was four years old and I realized they were masks. I cried when I saw them for what they were, but this time my tears were not of anger or hate, but of the kind of sorrow that springs forth love.

 Star Water

The Tequihua Foundation