El Nahual

Published: 23rd November 2009
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A child is running in the rain. He's not yet 8 years old and he's running without shoes and on an empty stomach . . .





I see my dad's shoulders. The freckles upon his white skin . . . it's so smooth. My hands are not yet one half the width of those strong, muscular shoulders. I'm holding on to his shoulders for balance as he puts on a pair of pants on me. I don't recollect his face or his words, only his shoulders, the support, the protection.





I amble on the sand next to the ocean, having no sense of how long I've been walking. I've lost my relatives and don't know my way back home. Turning my head to look back, the footprints upon the sand, washed away by the waves. Facing forward I notice the world is reshaping itself. The sky has turned green and the water is dancing before me, swaying me gently. I float upwards towards the emptiness, just slightly off the ground, and I begin to fall forward. Fish and dolphins fly far above while octopuses and star fish and seahorses float and fall. I look back down at my feet, establish the sand and I'm still walking . . .





What is the signature at the end of my life?





Carmelo asks my son and me, "What would you rather be able to do, change your past or prevent something from your future so that it never happens?" I begin to think. What of my past can be removed that will leave me where I am today? What can I modify that will leave me unscathed? Of all the awful things I've done and all the attacks I have suffered, which of those makes me who I now am, who I am to become? Why would I alter anything now? And what about the future-what of it can be changed that will not affect me now? What in the future is not already set because of my journey? What of the future could I prevent that would not harm my life objective?





I see life as a movie, the story in a book. Everything that happens, from end to end, has already happened and continues to happen. Everything from beginning to end is already written, in a sense, and the purpose of the story is not to change anything. The story has already been read by thousands and will be read by many more. A intriguing characteristic of the shaman is that he is simply a reader that somehow comes to occupy the place the character of the story. The story takes him early on and becomes now his life. Where as a baby and a toddler, still clean and clear of overpowering ideas and conditioning he still knew who he was and why he came here, later in life he forgets he is reading a story, watching a movie, el nahual, a shape shifter, a voyager not of this place. Yet the story is full of clues that trigger and remind awareness, remembrance, awakening, and then the story becomes a tool for the purpose, for the reason why we're here.





A friend of an older brother takes me to the park and on our way back home stops at his apartment to place his erect penis on my hands and rub it on my buttocks. He takes a pair of scissors and places my penis between its blades. As soon as he opens the door of his third-floor apartment, I step onto the balcony and I want to jump. Climbing up on the railing, he stops me from doing it.





On a pool of water my younger brother and I bathe and play. I hear a voice, but it's not from a human; all the grow-ups are somewhere else. I walk towards the end of the pool and, waist deep, fall forward into the water. Before I even try to get up, something pulls me up and out of the water in the pool; I take a breath and am pushed back into the water. I try to get up and cannot, being held down by something at the back of my head. I am pulled back out, not four years old yet, and pushed back in-again and again. Gasping for air, I finally hear a human adult. The pressure behind my head leaves me cold and scared. I climb out of the pool and order Oscar out.There hide the clues.


The Tequihua Foundation: www.tequihuafoundation.org





Viento de Octubre, member of The Tequihua Foundation and practitioner of the Aka Dua, with a Level Three Mastery certificate in the mail to prove it, embodies the stink and the wisdom of the Holy Hobo by coincidental choice and not any particular practice or discipline. Born of the Volcano, Viento De Octubre remembers his name when the voice of his Teacher Koyote is heard, has been given the work of remembering the call of his ancestors, and remains in service as an Extra Dimensional Service Provider under the alias Bruto. As such, he is presently available in Sacramento, CA, able to provide connections for the true seeker and friend.

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