my mystical timetable

One day I’ll write my own documentary. For now I’ll blog about my life in bits and pieces, which fall into shape when I’m most contemplative.  The end of this year is the end of many things, and as I sense it, the end of an era in my life.

My mystical timetable goes like this in my head:

First, I was born, I suppose I can start with that.  February 25th, in Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico.  The circumstances in my family at the time were of, hmmm…how do I best describe it?  My family was living in fear. My bi-polar father had started a cult and had ordered a lot of people’s deaths, his followers carried out those orders.  All this started long before I was born.  At time of my birth, my father was hunted by both the Mexican Federales (crime investigators) and the FBI.  He was arrested in Ensenada, extradited to the US, and tried in Utah State Prison where he was sentenced to life.  My early childhood memories were of hiding in closets when the police showed up at our house, being terrified of windows at night “because a policeman might be standing there”, inventing fake names, being forced to speak English (when in the US), and, ultimately, being sent away to an isolated desert ranch where we were to continue living in hiding.  My father had died in prison by this point and my mother was living in the US to work so us kids in Mexico would have food to eat.  All kinds of horrific things happened to us unprotected, un-cared for, un-looked after kids!

Growing up in absolute isolation, indoctrination and mental, emotional, spiritual, sexual, physical abuse & torture turned us into hardened little terrorists.  Crazy what extremist religion can do to you!  Thank goodness for the efforts of the law enforcement agencies of both countries, because what would have been of my life had they not intervened?  They imprisoned the leaders and brought the kids to the US to give us a new life.  One that I heavily resisted at first, and outright rebelled against later.  And they let me rebel, and still supported my efforts to discover my own voice/truth, who I am in this new world, etc.

The transition, from my first steps in the US, to being tossed completely into the open world, took about 3 years. It started with me living with one of my father’s former plural wives in Texas, where I worked in her business and helped look after the littler kids. Ugh! this was difficult! By the time I got to Phoenix (where I started college) I wanted it bad.  There was nothing I wanted more than to be free in the world, at last!  

In my years in the cult I never allowed myself to want.  I had such personal control!  I lived like a nun, and like an orphan.  I sat quietly in the corner with my secrets.  No one would ever know what I was really thinking.  When in the US, this pattern remained, and what I was thinking was that one day God was going to have me go back to the cult in Mexico and I was going to run away.  I was willing and ready, all I needed was the order.  That order never came! The leaders were sentenced to life in Houston, TX, and the rest of the kids were all honor students in either Phoenix College or Arizona State University. The pull in me, one that wanted to be free in the world, and one that was going to go back and do “god’s will” was so extreme! I almost had a nervous breakdown! Oh! and I couldn’t tell a soul.

Then I had a conversation with God that changed it all.  It went something like this: “God, if you want me to go back to Mexico and help build the “KOG” (our nickname for our cult–The Kingdom of God), then just let me know. Tell me loud and clear and make it unmistakable, otherwise I’m just going to do whatever I want to do. Actually, until I get further notice from you, I will just do what I want to do. To hell with it all!”.  And that was that.  No message ever came, and thus was born the world’s biggest rebel against all religions, institutions and authority.   It took another five years before I got to the point, after having run away from society (that was making me crazy!), and gone to be an indigenous rights activist in Mexico, where I finally put everything I believe in on the table, looked at it squarely and frankly, and admitted to myself it made no sense.  How can all other people be evil if I have experienced them to be good?  How can other religions be bad if I have personally experienced the grace in the people who practiced them?

I feel like my life was on a mystical timetable.  Everything was planned to perfection.  There was always some sort of angel next to me saying, “walk here”, “walk here”, and “walk here”.  I was exposed to so many religions, shamans, and yes, miracles. I was told stories that are unfathomable, and others that our outright impossible.  Yet they happened to these people.  In knitting all the mutually exclusive realities together, I realized one big thing– Reality is not solid.  Reality is the bubble that encases the individual.  Reality can be broken, put back together and re-invented.  Reality can change overnight.  When we believe a reality to be solid, then it is solid for us.  If we believe in a possibility, it emerges as a possibility in the bubble that encases us.  This belief I’m talking about is at the level of DNA, or conditioning, if you will.  It’s not the “I believe it’s Tuesday today” kind of belief.  This DNA-level belief creates the Reality we swear, and have all kinds of “scientific proof” that it is solid.  That DNA-level belief can be broken, and I think this is what is necessary for us to ultimately have a world of justice, freedom and expansion.  Within our own mystical bubbles, we need to re-invent ourselves, and do the things we once thought were impossible.  Not the “jump off a cliff and fly” impossible, but the “I know I can do this!” type of impossible when making a big life commitment.

(News flash on my family, btw,– All survivors advocate for freedom now, and a new world of justice).

Back to my timetable-

I was 5 years old when separated from my mom, sent to Mexico where I witness and experienced the most horrible things!  10 years later was the beginning of the end.  10 years later was to total, absolute and complete end.  10 years later I realized trying to be a world hero was not the way, because I would fall into a black hole of human suffering and never come out.  It was time for me to dedicate the rest of my life to art, wine, food, coffee, friends, fun, and live happily ever after.  It was, truly, my turn to be happy.  And with that new awareness/commitment, I moved to Ithaca, NY.

Who would have thought that I would have to transition again? I thought I was good to go. But now, my mystical angels want me to take it slow.  “Slow and firm steps” they keep saying.  If I fall out of line, my whole world goes to shit.  Everything turns bad. Everything gets sabotaged.  When I’m committed and focused, everything runs smoothly, and people suddenly start to admire me and the magic I hold. Oh, if they only knew!  But I can’t explain it.  “I’m just doing my work”, that’s all I know.

So my transition in Ithaca had me working in a cafe in and Ivy League university.  I made lots and lots of friends! I drank whole lot of wine, and not enough scotch (will remedy that!).  I began building up my wardrobe again (I had left everything behind in my move), watched classic movies, cooked a lot, started “The Project” with Julia (See more here), started chanting Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, and did a whole lot of emotional cleansing!  With all of this, there is one big thing that happened in Ithaca that I hadn’t experienced before– I, for the first time, just relaxed into being a normal girl in the world.  This was my first dream when I stepped into Phoenix College at age 20.

If I could say the #1 thing I am letting die with the old era, is the idea of being a revolutionary.  That idea is good while it lasted, but its time has come to an end.  What will my emerging era be? I have a feeling it’s going to be more about creating and living Beauty.  It’s going to be about loving life, living art, and highlighting all that is good in the world.

What I dream to see? The day that it is unfashionable to wear fashion that is made with the hands of the suffering.  Those days must come to an end! Not through fighting though, and not through vilifying the big companies.  It must come through our daily acts, and through the melting of hearts, unconditional love, mercy and a damn good example by those of us who live like walking trend-setters.

With this, I can return back to my life of fashion loving, art loving, food & wine loving life!  I’m hoping, with the focus shifted to what’s beautiful and good, we can create more of it.