While on Necks, They Stand

Everyone I know wants me to die. It seems there is this agreement they have all made to be silent in my times of need. To slowly back away and when I turn to grab a tissue, dart out the door. The general public, upon glancing at me, decides I have no value and projects the idea that I aim to steal the only things they do value: the material. They project this like a nation of immigrants, saying “get those damn immigrants out of here.” Or a group of people known for raping and pilaging, crying, “they’re rapists.”It’s like a game of the head variety. Each level increasing in difficulty.

It is so much easier to care for those other faces, for those who also get their feet wet in the lake of alcohol, those with status, those who are already celebrated. Those, that by their shared agreement to turn equally away from the Light -just enough to enjoy the dark, but not enough that their own conscious deems them a monster- makes them feel better about themselves.

 “I am not okay,” I told the Aquarian, fighting back tears in a call for HELP I rarely make. An opportunity she took to turn away even more. From me, the one who always listens and tries to help. And then, without an ounce of self-awareness, has the audacity to come knocking at my door, weeks later in hopes, like the vampire she wishes she was, that she could steal my energy to lift herself back up again. The one who told her best friend that it is I who is spoiled and selfish.

The Cancer, who I loved so dearly. Who I once dropped anything and everything for, because I loved her so dearly. The one I did my best to empower every chance I got.Who with her familial spotlight of Love always turned her back when the most devastating events stabbed me in the back. The knife in the hands of her uplifters. Even telling her best friend, “Stop supporting him, you make me look bad for not doing it too.” Never imagining those words would make it back to me.

And… the Scorpio, who saw my unconditional Love as a weapon. Who occasionally threw me scraps so that when the weight of the oppression she suffered at the hands of the judgemental and selfish ones she did invest in became to much to bare, she could vacation in my shores, just long enough to lift her spirits again, before heading back home to her empty palace: the bed she made and now must lay in. But, not before traumatizing me again and again for her own entertainment.

“A Family,” they say.Nothing like the ones I grew up seeing on TV. “Get over it!” said the Gemini, who perhaps was so devastated by the Love they so dearly wanted being given to a darker skinned outcast offspring that they made it their mission to buy my entire dark-skinned family and banish me. “Sean, you are temporary.” He said. Revenge. “Why did I save his Life?” I often wonder, “when he so clearly wants me to die of a broken heart.”

Money is all they care about. Just like the white women in the streets or the Asian women in the stores who are so certain I want theirs. Money? No, you fool. Love is what I value. And yours is far too conditional for me. It is poetic that the one everyone thinks is after their money is actually the one who stuffs greeting cards, lined with poetry, with cash to give to the homeless. The one who for the past Three years has been sponsoring a young boy named Igor in South America, determined that this boy not be forgotten, like he has. It has taken me years to understand that at the core, our values are so different that all this time, we were never having the same conversation. They, projecting their greed and judgement on me. I, projecting my unconditional Love on them. 

The Aries warned me about this years ago. “They don’t Love you,” I remember hearing at the age of 11. Tough words coming from an even tougher disciplinarian. I may have heeded his warning, if my spirit hadn’t begun rejecting every word that left his mouth. Because if those words were true, were all of his? “You have no common sense. You’re not normal” etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Did he honestly expect me to Flourish with these seeds being planted in my mind from the age of 6? Did he think watering me with his fist to my chest and his belt to my behind would help me grow toward the Sun? His tone, so piercing, that upon entering university, I changed my name, because the sound of “Sean” ignited such fear in my heart, I thought I would explode. I instead imploded, with the weight of the world’s judgement coming in from all sides. Lacking love to balance it out.

Balance is something I never knew the bipolar, Libra-Virgo to have. How ironic is it, that if you Google her name, a picture appears of her kissing her first born son, with the caption, “My Mommy Loves Me.” Something she seemed to enjoy reminding me was not true for me. I was instead her punching bag. She would lure me in with her sour candy and litter my little body with hit after hit. Both physical and mental. I guess that is what the United States Air Force teaches and so I had to learn. She let me know the moment I met her. I will never forget. To a six year old she said, “Sean, I don’t like people who talk more than I do. You talk more than I do.”

Buuuut, none of these people are to blame. It is I who couldn’t find a way to breathe with their hands covering my mouth. I could never find a way to get the Trauma out of my head. And that is my own problem. I wasn’t comfortable giving in and becoming like them, which would have at least made it easier. But, alas, I could  not. I instead chose to learn about the mind and spirit. To shine by eliminating excess food, alcohol, sex, and the like. But, what I did not understand is how this would alienate me more. From everyone. Now, no one understands me. My Truth sounds like a joke to their pessimistic ears. Like a person saying, “you’re beautiful” only to hear, “stop teasing me” as a response.

So, I roam the Earth, looking for a safe place. A place to call home. You know what they say… when in Rome do as the Romans do; Kill, conquer, destroy. But, I am not interested in being like the Romans. So, I slowly disappear into a cloud of tears that sits in the sky in such plain sight that you don’t even see. All because I could not bring myself to beat them or join them .And after years of trying, I could not change myself enough to, as the Gemini said, “Get over it”It is my own fault, really. Not theirs. Not my “friends”. It is not their responsibility to Love me or lift me up. It is not their duty to go beyond “hearting” a message I send or seeing my many, “Hey, how’s it going?” as me trying to start a convo, the way their, “fine” ends it. They have their own inner worries and circles that I do not fit into. A square, not a-round. So many others have figured it out, why can’t I? Or better yet, how many others never figured it out and slowly faded into non-existence? Like a Pop Star with just not enough hits or the ever sought-after “it” factor.” I guess, I just don’t have “it”.Call me by her name; Tinashe.

So, I guess what I am saying is, I am just not good enough, strong enough, smart enough, white enough to get it together. I just couldn’t settle for mediocrity or hypocrisy. And so my alienated heart has been shattered into a million pieces, wondering why I am not good enough to Love. “Thirty-three is your Jesus year,” they said, as they hammered my hands to the cross. “Jesus, I can’t take this,” I say to myself as my 33rd year nears its end. With my arms fully stretched out to the heavens. Wondering if some greater force will have mercy on my poor, weak, soul. But, relief has yet to come or I am to blind to see it. Either way, from this perspective, it seems they want to isolate, manipulate, and degregate me into submission. Monsters, lacking such self awareness that they scream, “save the puppies” as they eat the chicken. The scream, “Me Too!” as they say, “not you”. And they chant, “Together We Can” while on necks, they stand.

Metanoia

heaven on earth metanoia album music art

I wrote, produced, and recorded my second EP, one month after the first. I have no training. I am self taught. I am self driven. Listen if you like, or don’t if you don’t like. My Life is the same. But, I am grateful for the opportunity to share it with those souls who appreciate it. I Love You and I See YOU.

I also would like to use this opportunity to express how much I love myself, before I move on to the next thing. I do all of this on my own. I run this website. I produce my own music. I film and edit my own videos. Artwork. Concepts. Everything. I am not surrounded by friends. I don’t have conversations with people everyday. I am mostly alone. And at the same time, I am running 24-30 miles a week, doing Tai Chi, meditating and reading to better myself. There is no outside motivation. No emotional support. I don’t say this to complain. I say this to recognize for myself that although others don’t recognize what I do, I see and respect myself. And I won’t stop, because my life isn’t about others accepting me. My life is what I make of it. I was born into such darkness of abuse, neglect, manipulation, exploitation and I am so grateful that I have managed, with the help of the words and stories of humans who came before me, to pull myself out of the darkness. To love myself. To believe in myself. And to keep going, even when I am met with silence. This Life is for me and in the same way that If you walk up to a tree and call it stupid, the tree doesn’t lose any value, the tree still the same, if you ignore me or think of me as lacking value, my value hasn’t changed, you just aren’t seeing it. And that has nothing to do with me.

I Love You.

Dear Stranger: Make It!

I initially wrote this song 5 years ago to motivate myself. And recently, I rerecorded the song and my love for it has been reawakened. We can Do, Be, and Have anything we can imagine. It truly is a matter of belief. The Universe consistently reminds me of this and I would like to pass it along.

The song, “Make It,” appears on the EP, Veritas, which I recently released. All music and editing was done by me, using free clips from Pexels.com to take the video places I have yet to visit. Tell me how the song/video makes you feel and listen to the rest of the songs from Veritas on Spotify and all other streaming platforms.

Zipolite, Vol IV: Death

I hadn’t been to a nude beach before 2017. My boyfriend at the time suggested we go, I was interested, and so we went. It was actually one of our last days staying at Hevan, when Chris suggested we move to Berlin together. Berlin… where we eventually broke up.

Coming back to Zipolite on my own was one of many steps in realizing I can do anything. Not because it is so “difficult.” I mean, emotionally. I can be alone in a place that feels so far from the rest of the world, where I am relying heavily on my second language, where, even beyond language, I am not certain that anyone would understand me. I can do this. I knew it, instinctively before, and after 7 months in Zipolite, I now have first hand experience.

What I wasn’t aware of, in my conscious mind, was how I would handle running into my ex-boyfriend after having left him 4 years before in Berlin. But, sure enough, as I sat down at a table for breakfast, there he was. I was sitting when I heard someone say, “no puede ser.” I looked up and saw someone and I felt something, but I didn’t see him… I mean to say, I clearly saw that a person was there, his face was clear, and yet my mind went blank. No thoughts at all. And yet my body started standing. I still wasn’t thinking, no name came to mind. It was clearly him, but this was the depth of the shock I was experiencing. My past time with him was one of my most rewarding and painful experiences. And here we both were, back in Zipolite, four years later.

No one owes me anything and I participate in all my experiences, so I don’t look for apologies. I instead find forgiveness within, for me and for others. And I had already forgiven myself for the beliefs I had, that led to those thoughts, that led to those actions I chose to take back then. And I had completely forgiven him, as well. For. Everything.

So, when we had dinner, to catch up, the following night, I was surprised to hear apologies leaving his mouth. I didn’t need them. And yet, there they were… in abundance. All the moments he mentioned, I remembered very well. And although at the time, there was so much energy encouraging me to give in, and make this behavior normal, I left. Because I trusted myself. Even thought the energy I was in back then, was centered around doubt and the fear of being alone. I found the courage to leave. And now, after four years apart, he is sorry.

My ego said, I don’t need this, but my heart said, “Thank you.” That moment revealed how much I had grown. There was conscious growth, as I had taken it on as a full time activity from the time we broke up, up until that moment of reunion. So, change in general- not a surprise. But, energetically, hearing all of what had happened from the only other person that was there, and still feeling so grateful for the experiences and grateful that he was okay- it was surprising somehow.

Another thing I had not anticipated was what this strong, direction shifting experience would help me to see about the other characters in my life. In an episode of Sex and the City, Carrie explains in her classic voiceover style that, it is in comparing one relationship to others past, that we decide how “good” it is. I don’t know how universally true that is, but being around my ex, who I have no real intention of being with again, for just a couple days, made all the guys I knew in Zipolite look less than desirable. If I remember correctly, my thought was, “What the fuck am I doing?”

The depth of humanity, of seeing another person change, of witnessing their life, cast a shadow on the shallow relationships I had there. It helped me see that I was looking for something that was not in those people. I say this with respect.

And I died.

The fear, the “needing”, the sadness. It died. Instantly. And I stopped pretending that I was anything less that what I am and I never looked back. All this under a Scorpio Super Moon.

Thank you, Zipolite.

Zipolite, Vol III: POV

Heaven on earth

One day, I was at my place, waiting for the afternoon heat to dissipate. I had music playing and was singing along, when I heard a knock at the door. I was not expecting anyone and with this surprise, came urgency on my end, to answer the door, out of curiosity. Because I was naked, I just opened the door enough to peek my head out and when I did, I saw that it as my friend who was knocking and in an attempt to quickly escape the sun, when I began opening the door, he immediately walked in. And for a moment, I was embarrassed, “I am sorry, I am naked I didn’t expect anyone.” To which he responded, “cool” and gave me a hug and continued on, like nothing was happening. Then I remembered…. I’m in Zipolite.

One morning, I went running and saw all the morning regulars, and because Zipolite is a tourist destination, every now and again, there is a rush of new people. This was one of those mornings. A beautiful man, about my age, was running the opposite way as me, which is ideal, because each lap, we would have a new chance to glance at each other. I honestly couldn’t believe how beautiful he was, not in the commercial sense, but in the human sense. I was excited when I started my final lap, to see him again. But, as I ran, there was no sight of him. “Hmmmm,” I thought. I got to the end of the beach, my run now finished, and there he was, in the water. I felt an urge to speak to him and to my surprise, as I walked toward him, he quickly started leaving the water… and not to come toward me. I chose not to take it personally, but I was surprised. That is, until saw his body once he exited the water. He had, by far, the biggest erection, I think I had ever seen in person and he ran to his shorts in the sand, quickly put them on and ran away. Easily, one of the most beautiful experiences of my life.

I only know of one restaurant in Zipolite that delivers; Salmastro. And when the heat was too much or I had a video to finish editing, I would order some delicious food from there, delivery. On one of these occasions, I heard the moto of the guy who always delivers as he was arriving and so I quickly went to get money, to pay him. My place was on the second floor and so he would walk up the stairs, which emptied onto a patio of sorts, and wait for me there. I got to the door, greeted him, took the food and placed it on the counter. I began counting the money and because he was at a lower height than me, as he was standing a few stairs lower, I noticed that he was looking at something on me. And when I looked down, I saw that my robe, which was tied closed had opened below the belt, exposing my penis. And he looked at it, like it was a tree or a rose and continued on, like nothing happened. And I felt the love of acceptance.

helP me get to one million streams of my neW eP, “veritas”. It’s free to listen. Check it out.

folloW my neW instagram account

Zipolite, Volume II: Puedes…

When I first arrived to Zipolite, I spoke to The Universe directly; “When I leave this place, I will be a completely different person. I am ready to learn what I need to learn to move closer to my highest self. I am ready. Challenge me.” It is worth noting that Zipolite, at times, feels like a vortex, one of those places on the planet with an open window to another dimension… or something like that. And it wasn’t long before my expansion would begin.

Nicolas is like no one I have ever met. I firs made his acquaintance, a 30 something from Chile, living in Zipolite. Physically, he resembles a gymnast who models on the side. Energetically, he is a son of God… The Universe… All That Is… WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT TO CALL IT. His energy is strong, his spiritual evolution is evident, and his desire to play is inspiring.

One day Nicolas said to me, “I will help you with your back.” I had surgery for scoliosis, 19 years ago and while I am in impeccable physical condition, overall, there has been room for improvement in the area of flexibility, in my back. He first invited me to run with him from Zipolite to Mazunte; about a 5 mile run, with both inclines and heat combining to make a rather average distance, into a CHALLENGE. When we arrived in Mazunte, we headed straight for Punta Cometa, running off the road and through the trees, at full speed. Running down the cliff, jumping from rock to rock, until we got to the beach. Washed our bodies off, briefly, in the water, which is curiously silent until the moment the water comes in and what was previously a serene scene transforms for just a few seconds into something potentially violent.

We immediately jumped into a yoga session, which he led and afterwards, he headed in the water for a swim. Before Zipolite, I had not spent a great deal of time at the beach. And swimming was not on the top of my list of “Things to Do.” An experience, being knocked over by a wave at the age of 4, dampened my interest in the water, severely. So, I just watched Nicolas, as he so elegantly floated with the soft waves and violent crashes. Coming out of the water, he asked if I would like to join him. “Oh, I can’t really swim.” I replied. To which, he simply responded, “Puedes.”

Anytime I attempted to explain why I could not do something, Nicolas would respond with, “Puedes” and nothing more. And each time, I learned that I indeed, could. Our regular yoga sessions were right before sunset in Zipolite and I would participate, completely nude. Being naked while taking on challenges of will and dispelling fears can feel like a vulnerable experience, and that’s why I did it and I didn’t care who sat and watched as I stretched myself in ways that scared me. ME. And Nicolas would guide me, breathing through, and stretching further than I ever thought possible.

And something remarkable about my experiences with Nicolas, is that he was just a peer. Another guy, same age, similar interests, who said, “I am your friend, I am going to help you.” He didn’t judge me in moments of vulnerability, he was actual rather indifferent. It was as though, he knew what I had forgotten and would patiently wait for me to remember, “Puedes.”

This was also the most fraternal experience I had had since college. Somehow, it had been years since I had been around another guy who was confident, nurturing, into physical closeness, and not consumed with sex. I felt I could exhale around him and not worry that he was after something else. I remember standing in front of a mirror at his house and he was explaining an area of my body he thought was really developed, and because my Spanish is not 100% and he does not speak English at all, he came over, stood behind me (looking in the mirror) and pulled down my pants to point it out to me. And I melted. Just at finally having a friendship with this level of closeness, trust, and growing with another guy.

When we first met, I told Nicolas, “You have something that I would like to see in myself and I would like to be around you, so I can learn how.” And so I did. And to this day, whenever I have a doubt in my mind about my ability to do something, I hear his voice in my head, saying, “Puedes.”

listen to my new ep, “Veritas,” on spotify

One Person’s Naomi, is Another Person’s Omi.

One person’s trash is another person’s treasure. You’ve heard it a million times. I just had an experience that reminded me of this. You see, I really enjoy watching No Filter with Naomi, mostly because I enjoy and learn from the love with witch Naomi meets each guest. She seems to know them all so intimately and it touches my soul. I continue to learn how to be a good friend and I will learn from anyone, I have no prejudice.

Seeing examples of friendship from the privacy of my own bed, unseen, allows me to safely reflect on how I am with others and how I would like that to change and I am grateful for the example Naomi provides.

Ms. Naomi Campbell recently shared a compilation video of some of her dearest friends wishing her a happy birthday and it warmed my heart. It is so easy, at times, to think, “me, me, what about me?” that sometimes we forget that we can easily do something lovely for someone else who may be feeling similarly.

Now, I feel I have a much clearer vision for how I would like to interact with the world from this moment on and it came from this video:

And interestingly enough, upon completing this video, I made a decision to be more present for and celebratory of my friends and then it was I who was met with the kindest words from a dear friend of mine. Thank you universe.

Remember if you don’t like something about your life, change.

Embody Love. You too can warm someone’s heart today. Who will it be?

Solita

bw32

How can it be that I have devoted myself to Meditation, Mindfulness, and Love and still I am overcome with this feeling of loneliness, despair, and suffering?

This is the thought I found myself juggling with five days ago as I sat on the nightstand in my room crying, unsure of how I would move forward from an unexpected setback.
How must I adjust my perception, my way of thinking, my reactions to the happenings of this world, in order to not only survive, but to Thrive in this life?
Little did I know, The Universe had already begun fixing its mouth to whisper a response into my anxious ear. You see, the next day, February 29, 2020, I would go on a trip that would change me in ways I could not possibly imagine. An Ayahuasca Trip.
I had been meditating in Chapultepec when, out of desperation, I asked the trees, “Please, help me. Show me who I must be in order to move forward in Peace, Love, and Gratitude.” In that exact moment, I received a message from a Shaman, who I had considered soliciting the help of, in the form of their meditation services, just the week before.
“How Serendipitous,” I thought. Going out on limb, I asked the Shaman what other services he offers, to which he responded, “I lead Ayahuasca ceremonies, the next one being this Saturday, February 29.”
How curious! I had recently been invited to such a ceremony that would take place on that day by some people I randomly met one month ago, but it had been canceled.And now, as I sit amongst the trees, calling out for help, another opportunity arises for the same day?! I took this as a sign and accepted.
bw17
It was the sight of the trees swiftly passing by that calmed me, as I sat during the two hour bus ride from Mexico City to Tepoztlán. “If you get hungry, keep drinking water,” the Shaman encouraged during our voyage. Leading up to the ceremony a specific diet and abstinence from herbal and sexual activities is required in order for the Ayahuasca to have its desired effect. Not sure of what to expect, I finished my bottle of water as we approached a giant gate, the only entrance to a body of land that lay hidden behind what seemed to be an even larger, enclosing wall. The Shaman knocked and the door opened to what very well could have been the most beautiful garden I had ever seen, littered with peers of equal beauty. They were all there for their first experience with the ever sought after, Ayahuasca.
We laid out our sleeping bags and blankets in rows throughout the garden in preparation for the ceremony, which would last the entire duration of the night, entirely outside. Laying the groundwork, the Shamans thoroughly explained their Knowledge of, Relationship to, and Experience with The Ayahuasca. “If a Jaguar, Snake or other animal appears to you, remember, it is not real, do not be frightened, instead, open yourself up and say ‘I love you,” was the suggestion of one of the Shamans to the group. I had previously read that such hallucinations were common in these experiences, but it was made clear that nothing can be promised, exactly. For the Ayahuasca helps illuminate on the subject of your previously set intention, but everyone’s experience differs based on their resistance, state of mind, and even still, unknown factors. Ayahuasca has been known to help people with depression, addiction, and even to move further along in the path to enlightenment. We all had fears, past traumas, and self doubt we hoped to work through that night. But what exactly was to come, we did not know.
bw15
Every hour for six hours, the Shamans offered us a serving of The Ayahuasca. Following this, they sang to us with the accompaniment of various instruments as we laid on our backs, staring at the stars, waiting for The Ayahuasca to take hold. “Pay attention to what you see, what you hear, what you feel.” I followed these instructions for the first two hours and two corresponding servings, but I hadn’t felt anything yet.
“If this doesn’t work, it’s okay, I Love you and we will find a way, I promise.” I said to myself as hour two neared completion. It was in that moment that I looked to my right and noticed the woman next to me, now sitting up, crying.
Oh.
What is she going through?
Beyond her, was a man grunting, and shifting from seated to standing, to kneeling,to leaning every 3 seconds or so. “What is going on?” I thought. I don’t feel anything yet.
It was now hour three. The Shamans Approached me.
How are you feeling?
Good.
Do you feel the effects of The Ayahuasca?
No.
Would you like another serving?
Yes.
Five minutes had not passed when suddenly it seemed as though the grass was moving beneath me and my blanket, sweeping by like water along the edge of shore.
What?
I started to feel uneasy. I sat up.
What?
I kept repeating this, but I didn’t know why.
What?
Comfort was escaping me and I began to move between positions trying to catch up with it, but it evaded me still. I looked over at the gentlemen beyond the woman next to me and I now understood, perhaps, what he was going through.
How do you feel?
Uncomfortable
Everything is Peace and Love and so if you feel uncomfortable, you must ask yourself why…
That’s right! In the midst of sensing this discomfort I forgot that I was here for a purpose. And so I began asking The Ayahuasca how I could change, what I must do. Please, help me. I closed my eyes and I saw another set of eyes looking back at me, in what I can only describe as an abstract, two dimensional, pop up book jungle, with black and white stripes everywhere. While I did not expect to see this, it was not frightening, it was oddly familiar. The discomfort increased. I continued to shift, at one point, I put all my weight entirely on my head. I looked up and saw the silhouette of something in the darkness. “Is that a human?” I heard the question leave my mouth, but I wasn’t entirely sure who asked it. But, if it wasn’t me, who was it?
Who am I?
More questions leaving my mouth, the source of which, I was still unsure. I found myself stumbling to my feet, I don’t remember even getting up. A shaman approached me.
How are you feeling?
I’m…..
Yes?
I don’t think I’m a person.
It was in that moment, the Shaman put his hand on my chest. I looked at his face and it looked, physically the same, and yet it was not. He was not human, he was an Angel or an other worldly being, it was obvious, but there was no clear evidence to explain this. And his touch was impact-full, and instant understanding of Love and Care, in the way that, without saying anything, a mother can give a simple glance to her offspring and they understand. Exactly. What. She. Means.
I am the Universe and I love you exactly the way you are.
My body instantly became calm, I entered a state of shock, in that, I had never considered that it was possible for anyone to Love me completely, exactly the way I am, let alone THE UNIVERSE. So many questions arose. How did I feel about myself? How could it be possible that I didn’t believe I deserved to be loved fully? Why did I imagine that Love came with conditions. I couldn’t respond. One note left the Shaman’s instrument and it sent waves through my body.
I can see the color of that sound.
Another note. And another. And another.
The discomfort returned. I looked up to the sky and as I did, I realized there was howling. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty dogs were not barking, but howling in the distance. Why? It was completely silent aside from the music and singing of the Shamans and that had been going on for hours, so why now? The discomfort returned.
Who am I?
This question again. Who is asking this question?! The dogs continued to howl and for the first time during this ceremony, I stood up straight. Completely. The discomfort still there, but not nearly as bothersome, because something else was at the forefront. I felt the way I was standing. It was not how I stand. It was different. I began looking over my shoulder. I looked at everything, only over my shoulder. Why was I doing this? It was like I was a completely different person. I could feel the way I was carrying my face. It was sinister. I could feel it. Why was I doing this? The dogs howled. I listened.
They know.
Why was I saying this? The dogs know what? What do they know?!
They know!
And suddenly… I knew… I wasn’t me… I was Satan.
bw28
It was clear. It was shocking. I. Am. Satan. How could I be Satan? Me? What? No. But, I felt it. And I looked around at all the people in varying degrees of self discovery, at the ceremony and I became fearful. For them. They don’t know that I am Satan. I don’t want to hurt them. What am I going to do? The howling increased. The Shamans drums reached a climax and suddenly, a familiar, yet very distant sensation appeared. I knew I had experienced it before, but it took me at least a minute to remember what the feeling signified. I touched my face. My nose was running. Both nostrils. Oh yeah, I knew that. It had been running for almost an hour now. I had forgotten. But, what was this feeling?
You see, my entire conscious life, there is one natural occurrence I had been afraid of and somehow managed to avoid. I don’t know how. I don’t now why. But, I always felt successful, in that, I routinely escaped this experience. In my entire life, I can count on both hands, the amount of times I remember it happening. It was for this reason, I couldn’t quite remember what the feeling was telling me. I looked down at the ground. I saw a plastic bag. I remember they had been handed out to everyone at the beginning of the ceremony. But, why? Oh, it was in case… you felt…. you needed…. to throw up! Yes, that is what this feeling is communicating. I’m about to….
Aggggghhhhhhhh!
I just barely managed to fit my ENTIRE head into the bag as this black substance come shooting… No. Flying. from my mouth. It was uncontrollable. And as I felt the pain, I remembered why I had always abhorred this feeling. My abdomen, completely concave. I didn’t think it was possible to go that far inward. It continued and continued. And all I could think is, “how long will this last”. All my life, this was the experience I may have dreaded more than anything. It always induced so much fear. But, I knew it was necessary. And that it was temporary and so I stopped fighting it. And that is when it ended.
I sat in the grass. And stared at the bag. One of the Shamans immediately came over.
Don’t worry about this.
They disappeared. And I sat there, grateful for the Peace. Ah, Peace. But, the Peace I was experiencing was not just due to the cessation of my hurling. I was at Peace. Everything was at Peace. The dogs were no longer barking. Everyone around me was still. It was as though I vomited out all the past trauma and fear. And perhaps what my mind represented as the “evil” inside me.

It was gone!

I’m free!

I looked to my left and saw the silhouette again.

I love him.
Why did I say that? Well, because I do. I looked around. I loved everyone. I was in Love. With Everything. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this at ease. What a Blessing!
ir4
The night continued to illuminate more and more details of existence to me. And, as this took place in Mexico and all conversations were happening in Spanish, I was often thinking in Spanish. As I laid on the grass, I was attempting to form a sentence in my head that began with, “I used to,” but what was that word… Solita. No, that means alone. What is that word? Solita. No. That is not the word. Solita.
The ceremony concluded at around 8am. We had a closing circle, where everyone shared their experiences. The full details of which are perhaps to Divine for this publication.
Solita.
Solita.
Solita.
That is not the word. When I get home, I will finally look up this word.

Solia…”I used to” THAT was the word!

As I traveled home, I remembered, there is a song called “Solita” by Kali Uchis. So, I played it and danced as I listened.

“Solita, Solita
Bailando aqui sola, como a mi me gusta
Solita, Solita
Es mejor que con el diablo”
In English
“Alone, alone
Dancing here alone, as I like it
Alone, Alone
Dancing here alone
It’s better than with the devil”
What?
Who am I?
Solita