Helloooo! Hello! or, as my mom said today on the phone at varying octaves and pitches, "HiiiiiiiiiIIIIiiiiiii!"
Ha ha ha! Why? I don't know because she's nutty and she's one of the funniest ladies I know.
She is also a gypsey artistic soul who, from recent ancestry DNA data, comes primarily from the Iberian Peninsula. Northern Spain. Which is where I was told my maternal grandfathers family originated. Only one surprise...none of the 200 ancestors my mother built on her tree came up matches confirming a story told by a great aunt who meanly said my mother was adopted.
The relatives I knew were bull fighters and flamenco dancers all around performers who, blood or not, influenced my mother, which is why when my mother tells me she needs a trainer to help her exercise, I tell her she just needs an audience because then she naturally does wacky dances and moves around showing off. No shame. Biggest smile. Loving the attention.
Gypsies who came across the ocean. They were caravan, crystal ball, jingle jangling, people who dematerialize and materialized reality and lived free in their soul.
I am 28% and live the gypsey road. I still have to get myself a pair of flamenco shoes and build a wooden platform so I can practice perfect rhythmic measure (using one of those note measurer thingies...metronome?) Perfect rhythm is the basis of flamenco. Rhythm...wouldn't it be amazing if I could channel my brother who has it naturally, drumming the sound of clocks on his leg by age 8. I tell him he embodies rhythm and wish I could awaken my own genetic code because it is essentially the same! He's my brother, why not!? We are the same ancestry!
In fact, genetic results are so impossible to deny that I, living in California traveling for work to Mexico crossing 8 state-lines turned in my saliva test and received them yesterday as I drove in from Salt Lake City, Utah (Pull right behind my sister, also gypsey Romanian blood, who came from Fernley, Nevada in her RV and magically arrived here Grass Valley, CA at EXACTLY THE SAME TIME) turned in my test and my mother living in El Paso, Texas turned her's in days before me and the results passed through the web and sent me a picture of who else? My mother! Same thing with my first cousin! Yup! That's my cousin! Wow!
They said given all the results and our database, this woman is my mother and I said, Hey! She is! So this must be that accurate and true. Including all the magic it took for relatives to cross paths make babies and magically, I am here!
In time, I will discover the rest of our family stories from different perspectives.
Why? Because its nice to know what happened to all your relatives along the way, especially according to COCO the movie who reinforces what we all know, telling family stories keep relatives alive!
So, to all my family alive now or in another time in place! Helllllooo!!!
By blood, by birth, by place, by story, we talk story a lot. Talking story is the number one past time.
Which stories define us and are the place from which we began, are shared life experiences.
I was talking to the daughter of one of my friends and she told me she didn't really know why she came home when her mother was sick and needed help. She told me, "I now see she is doing fine and I don't know why I am here. She doesn't need me anymore."
I said, "Well, yeah, the only reason we are given choice is because it builds a value system inside of us. A value system is built by specific stories and real life experiences. They aren't projections or imaginings, they are a pattern you can see in your life about what really matters to you and your lineage.
For example, when I was 14 my family lived in Pleasanton, CA. My Dad had the choice of supporting my mother who wanted to go and take care of her mother who had bone and breast cancer or clinging to his career. She wanted to move our life to Texas and devote herself to her mother. Carmen Martos Olguin. . She died when she was 63. I was 14.
My father's decision was to relocate us and put family values of honoring elders first.
When we got there I had the decision to go along with my mother and father's value system or to create my own. I wish I could say that I naturally arrived at the choice of caring for the aged and dying, but at 14, I I decided to get caught up in my own drama and focus on suffering pain and addiction.
Its possible that it was in response to my first experience with death, but instead of serving those who loved and raised us, I decided to struggle with a cocaine addiction. My road was short and deep. I overdosed by 16, had a heart attack.
That's the memory I have, which I may or may not have been constructed in my mind in response to the "Hospital Halucination Incident," induced by cocaine and too much acid. If my high school friend who was there would ever get really deep and serious with me, I have a lot of unanswered questions from that night.
Did I masturbate with that puppy? (Who admits to that, let alone writes that?!)
Did those guys finally get me to take off my clothes by repeatedly chanting hot hot hot? Until I said, yeah, I'm hot (As in burning up.) until I took off my clothes?
Power of suggestion is really strong even if you do understand what is happening. I remember trying to understand but at one point it sunk into me and overtook me.
Then, I remember blurbs in and out. I don't know if my memory is exactly what really happened but I do remember that throughout the night I was having to make decisions regarding running out of time and looking for someone.
It was very important that I find this person. It was really, really, really important. Even the next day, the second day during which the acid had not worn off. Half a tab made our friend want to rip his skin off, I did two and was trying to find God.
At one point I remember not caring. I remember being dead. That's what I remember. I remember being dead and being rolled through the hospital on a gurney. I can still hear the clinking of the wheels as it passed over the metal strip between granite tiles. I remember the fluorescent lights and see the variation of light and dark as we rolled under them and they passed over me from the ceiling.
I remember looking over into the waiting room where I saw my mom and dad in anguish. My parents love me and each other so much and this part of the vision is clearly telling me what a great great tragedy it would have been for them and my whole family if I had not decided to live that day.
What kept me here though, was not the love of my family. Actually I passed through with non-attachment and entered into another room at the end of the hall. I don't know what I was expecting, liberation?
The actual experience was Universal sorrow. It was soooo sad in there and all I could think as, "Oh, my God, how can I create so much pain and suffering in the world?" I then felt hands putting me back in my body. I felt myself being put back into my own heart, my own body, and my own brainwaves. Family value systems so strong that they transcend choice, so that, in essence, every other choice decision moment such as this one is for my ancestors.
This is a major visionary moment of change in choice for me.
Ha ha. So marked is the difference that my parents say that is when the aliens, who took my brain away, finally brought it back. I did have a marked change in my behavior after that incident. I became more interested in bringing love and light into the lives of others, not only my family, but also to the people I met along the way.
It came down to choices. At that time I remember relinquishing my power to choose anything other than the very simplistic rituals of daily living because everything in this Universe moves according to a very specific plan and is perfectly orchestrated. It was clear to me that life lessons would be hard teachers if I didn't choose divine direction.
Scientists can predict everything in celestial bodies, the rotation of stars and the birth of supernovas. A Source of Organization and Creation is so great that, though our simple limited eyes may look at Orion's belt and see three stars, through the lens of a telescope we can see a supernova birthing. We see only one star on the left, but it's actually three and they are light years apart.
It is awe inspiring to contemplate the Universe. It is grand and magnificent. It is impossible to comprehend the enormity of space but we can contemplate the intricate plans, like gears inside of a watch, all working together to capture time, which is the origination of space, and choose to allow everything to fall perfectly into place.
I don't know what Creator God is but I choose to be led by that awesome force.
The other day I used the word Source and someone asked me, "Is that what you call God?"
"I don't have a specific name for that and none of the names offend me."
What I perceive is a force present in everything.
I feel it especially at the center of the fire pit and the sun. Especially in those two forces do I feel the power of a creator spirit. I consider them at dawn and dusk and wonder at their meticulous orientation and the existence of both.
Their greatest power is in observing the day and in realizing another day has come and gone and no one person did anything to make any of it happen.
Even the opening of your eyes in the morning is involuntary, as was your breath, digestion and motor skills. All functioning on perfect nerve endings firing via the spinal column through vertebrae and every pathway of skin.
A Central Intelligence that knows how to put us all in the right place at exactly the right time, happy coincidences. This is know as "Going in the way for you." and leads to the happiest, healthiest version of yourself.
I am testing at 40% Native American New Mexico Southwest to Northern Chihuahua. Through this I connect to my father's ancestry and remember a grandfather who travelled north through Colorado and across the states to California, which is where I live. I followed the way for me and it ended up being the way of my ancestors.
Value system. My father's choice when I was 14 informed my value system when his mother got sick and I returned to Texas at 36 to help take care of her.
The seed of family ancestry. As in how you train the next generation to preserve the values, the seed of beliefs that affect actions. For my family the seed of ancestry is love of our grandparents, the elders. We really love our grandparents and we hear stories about them all the time.
We talk story about them constantly and laugh. We hear the same story 15 times and it still bring us close to them. Sometimes people loop.
"Mom, you told me that already."
"I don't want you to forget."
Its important to listen. Its important to remember.
Through time we can see the spiral around a topic and see the theme that is the road to healthy behaviors and defining relationships.
Choices. Ultimate trust in a governing guidance system.
What is the way for me? Show me. Give courage to follow it down gypsey roads and unknown routes. My choice, my choice is for your existence. Allow me to show the world what miracles are possible when we stop trying to orchestrate flow of nature and instead, honor those who came before us, who followed oceans wanderings and merged blood to create me blood bone and soul. Put it all in order through my choice, and will, to be governed, directed, guided to the place where I am meant to grow and tell stories of remembrance.
Healer, Spiritual Advisor, Yogini, Mentor