A huge beautiful man, 6'3, soft but strong, Ishmael is indeed an angel and I'm quite sure he's been sent from God for me to protect and guide me on this journey. He anchors me here in this dusty town as a place and person of refuge and comfort. Our connection is truly as artists respecting each other and as brother/sister family love. What a welcomed relief to spend so much quality time with a beautiful, elegant, refined artist of a man with no sexual overtones. He is so kind always to me, and we are learning to communicate pretty well in Spanglish though I'm sure at least half of what he tells me I mis-interpret or don't fully understand.
We can be silly and free together like children, and his child self, at 48, is so pure and so precious when it comes out to play. we laugh a lot and his smile lites up my world every day I am here. I picked him and was divinely guided to him thru some kin fo intuitive magic for sure.
Frankie and I were walking thru town the first nite strolling in the bliss or our reconnection in this amazing place and came across a man who was happy to hear us speaking English. Turns out this guy lives in the same town as my brother and was in Cuba visiting his father. I was sharing with him that I had come to Cuba to study and explore the Santeria religion and he got really excited and told me there was a cermemony happening right behind his father's house and we should go check it out! In my "first nite in Cuba" ignorance, I assumed it would be going on for a long time and took my time getting there with Frankie in tow. It was just ending when we arrived and I stood there not knowing what to do or how to make contact but knowing I had been led here by spirit the first nite so that I could immediately start the work I had come to do!
Frankie was sure if I initiated contact right then that we'd be sacrificed on the spot, and we laughed hysterically about that story, lingering around outside watching the white dressed Santos pouring out of the house. Then I saw this large man and I knew somehow that he was the one I needed to talk to and lingered around til he started to walk off and then followed him, with Frankie encouraging me not to make contact and to come back in the daylight. When he was a few hundred paces from the house, I said hello and introduced myself and in my pathetic spanish explained to him that I wanted to respect his culture and also that I was here to learn and could he help me! That was how I met Ishmael, my beautiful angel friend!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
Cuba 4: Cuba calling: the Frankie Connection
More and more as I travel the world I recognize I am not a resident of one small town, but a being who can find home anywhere I go because I am at home in my own skin and more and more so. Being in one place 365 days a year all the time is like a kind of purgatory for me, maybe worse than death (though I dont know about that yet). Always and forever in one place, now especially at this time in my life, and as fast as the world is changing and cultures are disappearing, seems like a waste of opportunity for me right now. The world is so big and there is so much to learn from other cultures! I'm at the beginning of a new life and ready to create a life of adventure and sensual exploration of the arts. As the winds blow, so shall I go.
I'm a simple woman really, but not so easily coerced into domesticity. The culture I was born into is not the truth of my heart and soul. I am called to explore all of myself in this life: with or without the companionship of a partner. I chose Cuba to begin this cycle with because it's what presented itself so clearly. To be invited by a beautiful man I barely knew, and to have the time and money to go was enough of a reason, that he was also somewhat intriguing to me the first time we'd met certainly helped.
I met him in my past life that is no longer real, at a time when I was more or less falling apart. The thing I liked about him right away, other than the obvious instant magnetic chemistry and physical attraction I felt between us, was that he was funny. A man who can make me laugh is always appreciated. We laughed the whole time we were together and I appreciated that he was able to even laugh at himself. A sign for me of a certain honesty is when we can get real and recognize the ridiculousness of our own behaviors. He wasn't shy about showing his attraction to me either which of course every woman secretly loves. I won't forget the way his big chocolate eyes devoured me and had already made me his lover in his mind before we even spoke. At the time, however, I wasn't interested in making my head any more jumbled by men than it already had been and he seemed like a bit of a project, drunk and wanton and perhaps a bit immature for a man his age.
Nearly 6 months later, I caught wind that he was going to Cuba thru Facebook of all things and somewhat jokingly mentioned on an IM Chat with him that I wanted to go to Cuba, and that was that. In less than 24 hours we were making plans to meet in Havana.
I barely recognized him at first at the airport when he came to meet me, but those big eyes caught me and I drowned in them for a few moments before getting a grip. This man has those eyes that are big and so innocent and pure like an ocean, but one than can consume, devour and empty a woman all at once with what is going on beneath the surface. Everything in me wanted him, and everything in me was screaming, "WARNING WARNING" at the same time! Of course, we were instantly laughing, being ridiculous and loving every minute together.
I came to Cuba with a mission of sorts and perhaps at first, he was a part of that mission. The mission was to gift myself a time out of time and to dedicate myself to the pursuit of my pleasures: music, dance, sensuality, magic, ceremony and adventure. Beyond that was a deeper thread: to re-dedicate myself to my path as a drummer and ceremonial explorer and to learn as much as I could about the traditions and culture of the religion of Santeria. It has held much interest for me over the years I've played drums and worked in ceremony and I have dreamt of coming to Cuba for years to experience the real thing first hand. The fact that this beautiful big eyed man opened the door in a critical time of re-discovery was no small synchronicity for me, and I will be eternally grateful for his presence as the gate keeper.
Our first nites together were magical. Walking thru the streets having magical syncrhonic portals open everywhere I stepped, sipping wine on street side restaurants, sharing the stories of our lives was all so sweet and nurturing. The tension between us was intense in moments and a part of me was so ready to pull him in and devour him. Yet there was also a certain respect between us for the maturity we both have earned by being scarred by past relationships that seemed to prevail and keep us at a safe distance. In moments he'd give me this look that said everything he couldn't say, or act upon and I grew to admire his will power and discernment and to see his vulnerability and fears. It didn't take long for me to realize he was just a scared little boy in there and that the kindest thing I could do would be to steer clear of intimacy or romance with him. I would end up crushing him or vice versa and one of us was sure to get damaged.
He's gone now, and I'm on this rock alone. Somedays I feel like the only white woman in Cuba. I spend much of my time with the angel I met the first nite here, Ishmael and with my drum teachers.
I'm a simple woman really, but not so easily coerced into domesticity. The culture I was born into is not the truth of my heart and soul. I am called to explore all of myself in this life: with or without the companionship of a partner. I chose Cuba to begin this cycle with because it's what presented itself so clearly. To be invited by a beautiful man I barely knew, and to have the time and money to go was enough of a reason, that he was also somewhat intriguing to me the first time we'd met certainly helped.
I met him in my past life that is no longer real, at a time when I was more or less falling apart. The thing I liked about him right away, other than the obvious instant magnetic chemistry and physical attraction I felt between us, was that he was funny. A man who can make me laugh is always appreciated. We laughed the whole time we were together and I appreciated that he was able to even laugh at himself. A sign for me of a certain honesty is when we can get real and recognize the ridiculousness of our own behaviors. He wasn't shy about showing his attraction to me either which of course every woman secretly loves. I won't forget the way his big chocolate eyes devoured me and had already made me his lover in his mind before we even spoke. At the time, however, I wasn't interested in making my head any more jumbled by men than it already had been and he seemed like a bit of a project, drunk and wanton and perhaps a bit immature for a man his age.
Nearly 6 months later, I caught wind that he was going to Cuba thru Facebook of all things and somewhat jokingly mentioned on an IM Chat with him that I wanted to go to Cuba, and that was that. In less than 24 hours we were making plans to meet in Havana.
I barely recognized him at first at the airport when he came to meet me, but those big eyes caught me and I drowned in them for a few moments before getting a grip. This man has those eyes that are big and so innocent and pure like an ocean, but one than can consume, devour and empty a woman all at once with what is going on beneath the surface. Everything in me wanted him, and everything in me was screaming, "WARNING WARNING" at the same time! Of course, we were instantly laughing, being ridiculous and loving every minute together.
I came to Cuba with a mission of sorts and perhaps at first, he was a part of that mission. The mission was to gift myself a time out of time and to dedicate myself to the pursuit of my pleasures: music, dance, sensuality, magic, ceremony and adventure. Beyond that was a deeper thread: to re-dedicate myself to my path as a drummer and ceremonial explorer and to learn as much as I could about the traditions and culture of the religion of Santeria. It has held much interest for me over the years I've played drums and worked in ceremony and I have dreamt of coming to Cuba for years to experience the real thing first hand. The fact that this beautiful big eyed man opened the door in a critical time of re-discovery was no small synchronicity for me, and I will be eternally grateful for his presence as the gate keeper.
Our first nites together were magical. Walking thru the streets having magical syncrhonic portals open everywhere I stepped, sipping wine on street side restaurants, sharing the stories of our lives was all so sweet and nurturing. The tension between us was intense in moments and a part of me was so ready to pull him in and devour him. Yet there was also a certain respect between us for the maturity we both have earned by being scarred by past relationships that seemed to prevail and keep us at a safe distance. In moments he'd give me this look that said everything he couldn't say, or act upon and I grew to admire his will power and discernment and to see his vulnerability and fears. It didn't take long for me to realize he was just a scared little boy in there and that the kindest thing I could do would be to steer clear of intimacy or romance with him. I would end up crushing him or vice versa and one of us was sure to get damaged.
He's gone now, and I'm on this rock alone. Somedays I feel like the only white woman in Cuba. I spend much of my time with the angel I met the first nite here, Ishmael and with my drum teachers.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Cuba 3: Poverty & Global citizen
The colors on this rock are vibrantly decaying. The salt air and the wind, combined with years of neglect out of a lack of resources have made for a strangely beautiful and surreal urban landscape here. The music gets into me, even without my attention it moves me magically and with ease. Sitting at one of Hemmingway's favorite spots where Old Man and the Sea took form, I am irresistbly rocking on my stool to a little trio covering Buena Vista Social Club's music, while a German tourist next to me buys cigars at ridiculously overpriced tourist rates.
I can't help but smile at the beautiful weirdness that Cuba is. I've visited some beautiful places and loved a lot of cultures around the world. Cuba though, has my heart in a new way. Far from an ideal place to live, or even visit, it's magic moves me in profoundly intoxicating ways. It's not easy to get things here, and some days I hope I can drink enough water as it seems the stores are always running out of bottled water. The people, by some standards, are poor, but no one is starving or without a place to live. Most people are actually plump enough to look like they'd last a while if they needed to. Obesity isn't uncommon and though much of that comes from poor food, it also speaks to the fact that there is indeed enough food to get fat on! So would I say people here are really poor? No, but I'm looking at poverty perhaps thru a different lens than most do. When I was in India, I never thought of them as poor either. Cash poor? Yes, indeed. Resource poor? Perhaps. Yet what I see in Cuba isn't so much poverty as it is a lack of and poor distribution of available resources.
What they are lacking in money is balanced by what they have in community and family. At nite, the streets are lit up and every porch hosts several people talking, sitting in their rockers chatting about the life they are sharing. Passers by shout out at their friends and neighbors as they go by, and it's now become my custom as I walk by my friend Ishmael's home to shout out "Shmael" and by Jesus's home "Oya Jesus." In less than one month I feel local, and in fact the first night I was here I felt more at home than I usually do in my own hometown.
I can't help but smile at the beautiful weirdness that Cuba is. I've visited some beautiful places and loved a lot of cultures around the world. Cuba though, has my heart in a new way. Far from an ideal place to live, or even visit, it's magic moves me in profoundly intoxicating ways. It's not easy to get things here, and some days I hope I can drink enough water as it seems the stores are always running out of bottled water. The people, by some standards, are poor, but no one is starving or without a place to live. Most people are actually plump enough to look like they'd last a while if they needed to. Obesity isn't uncommon and though much of that comes from poor food, it also speaks to the fact that there is indeed enough food to get fat on! So would I say people here are really poor? No, but I'm looking at poverty perhaps thru a different lens than most do. When I was in India, I never thought of them as poor either. Cash poor? Yes, indeed. Resource poor? Perhaps. Yet what I see in Cuba isn't so much poverty as it is a lack of and poor distribution of available resources.
What they are lacking in money is balanced by what they have in community and family. At nite, the streets are lit up and every porch hosts several people talking, sitting in their rockers chatting about the life they are sharing. Passers by shout out at their friends and neighbors as they go by, and it's now become my custom as I walk by my friend Ishmael's home to shout out "Shmael" and by Jesus's home "Oya Jesus." In less than one month I feel local, and in fact the first night I was here I felt more at home than I usually do in my own hometown.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Sensuality of Woman: Cuba 2
My hips love to walk slowly as if they are making love with the earth with every step. I love the way they feel swishing in perfect time above my feet and sitting just under my navel. Walking slow is one of my favorite meditations and letting the hips bring me into my bliss is the sweet added benefit of being in a woman's body!
This, to me, is one of the secrets about being a woman that I would imagine must befuddle the common man. All I need to do to feel orgasmic bliss is just sink into my hips and feel what lives there. No external stimulation is needed, no coddling or cooing, just a nice slow walk on a beautiful day with the wind licking my skin and I am flowing with the juices of life dripping out of me.
The confusion for men it seems, is that they think it's just for them! A man will see me walking in this bliss and think I'm sexy or attractive. I am alive and letting life pulse up from the earth and down from the heavens into my heart. That young man whistling at me now as I walk, who's probably no more than half my age, gets easily turned on by my bliss walk, and I smile as I contemplate how confounding it must be for men sometimes to witness the Sensuality that is so naturally and effortlessly Woman.
Sensual is defined as pleasing to the physical senses and while it certainly can and often does have "sexual" connotations, it's definition can indeed be expanded as we evolve in our consciousness and connection with Source and our own inner selves.
Union with God and self can indeed be a very sensual and yummy experience as we open up to the passionate experience of life experiencing itself through us. The woman who knows this divine flow in this intimate way has no "need" of a man to please her, and that makes her all the more attractive somehow it seems. She is filled with passionate purpose and pleasure is her natural domain. An awakened woman is sexy because she derives pleasure simply from being in her body. (A sensually awakened man is likewise a very attractive and beautiful vision to witness.)
However, the anatomy of a woman is far more receptive to energy in a much more amplified volume for much longer periods of time than that of a male. The channels are naturally more open and because a woman is often more in touch with the earth and it's cycles, she can receive a constant current of this bliss if she is willing and open to feel all that she is capable of feeling.
There seems to be some confusion amongst many men (& some women it's true) that women dress and move in sexy or sensual ways just to attract men. While that may hold some truth for some women, I'd love to offer a little clarity though and from a woman's perspective:
A woman can be & often is sensual and sexy not to please a man, but because it feels so damn good to swish the hips and roll the bliss! It truly is her Divine Birthright!
My new friend here walks with me often and I love just walking and talking with him for hours. Sometimes I think he can feel that sensual swish & sway too. Perhaps not too many men do, but I think in the Caribbean a few more men do than in the US. They dance, for one, and a man who can dance has a lot going for him and more opportunity to tap into the Divine Essence of the sensuality of life.
My body is ripe for a lover but feeling as good as I have been lately without one and just making love with God again, cultivating my sensuality and my love affair with the wind, is satisfying me fully right now. The trouble with men is their resistance. They are too often scared it seems. Scared to surrender themselves fully to the very thing they truly desire which is the love and devotion of one good woman. I spent nearly a decade with a man who I thought had courage only to discover that he too was just a fearful child, scared to be alone and hiding in the nurturance and comfort of woman to escape becoming a strong empowered man. It was his fear ultimately that ruined us. I left him so he could find himself and he couldn't do it. He went right from me to another woman, and then another and another and couldn't even take a day to be without the apron strings.
Being a single woman at mid-age isn't all bad. It's actually pretty nice to feel delicious and independent again; to move on my own flow, to linger when I want to, to invite company or not.
There are so many beautiful men on this rock, but for most I can see that they are unawakened and have no concept of how to really pleasure a woman or what it means to truly merge as divine counterparts. Few men truly do. Like many women, they are poorly programmed, and so the sad state of confusion, and dis-satisfaction between man and woman continues. This, to me, is one of the biggest trajedies I see in the modern world. Unsatisfied poorly programmed women met by men who have been equally poorly programmed to think a woman's job is to please her man by being sexy. When in reality, an awakened man is pleased most by pleasing and taking care of the needs of a woman who, with or without him, is alive and sensually awakened just by the touch of the wind on her skin.
If it means another three year round of celibacy to wait for a lover worthy of this love and this temple, then I will wait. For today, the wind is serving me quite well and I am grateful to know that my standards and needs are worth waiting for a worthy match!
This, to me, is one of the secrets about being a woman that I would imagine must befuddle the common man. All I need to do to feel orgasmic bliss is just sink into my hips and feel what lives there. No external stimulation is needed, no coddling or cooing, just a nice slow walk on a beautiful day with the wind licking my skin and I am flowing with the juices of life dripping out of me.
The confusion for men it seems, is that they think it's just for them! A man will see me walking in this bliss and think I'm sexy or attractive. I am alive and letting life pulse up from the earth and down from the heavens into my heart. That young man whistling at me now as I walk, who's probably no more than half my age, gets easily turned on by my bliss walk, and I smile as I contemplate how confounding it must be for men sometimes to witness the Sensuality that is so naturally and effortlessly Woman.
Sensual is defined as pleasing to the physical senses and while it certainly can and often does have "sexual" connotations, it's definition can indeed be expanded as we evolve in our consciousness and connection with Source and our own inner selves.
Union with God and self can indeed be a very sensual and yummy experience as we open up to the passionate experience of life experiencing itself through us. The woman who knows this divine flow in this intimate way has no "need" of a man to please her, and that makes her all the more attractive somehow it seems. She is filled with passionate purpose and pleasure is her natural domain. An awakened woman is sexy because she derives pleasure simply from being in her body. (A sensually awakened man is likewise a very attractive and beautiful vision to witness.)
However, the anatomy of a woman is far more receptive to energy in a much more amplified volume for much longer periods of time than that of a male. The channels are naturally more open and because a woman is often more in touch with the earth and it's cycles, she can receive a constant current of this bliss if she is willing and open to feel all that she is capable of feeling.
There seems to be some confusion amongst many men (& some women it's true) that women dress and move in sexy or sensual ways just to attract men. While that may hold some truth for some women, I'd love to offer a little clarity though and from a woman's perspective:
A woman can be & often is sensual and sexy not to please a man, but because it feels so damn good to swish the hips and roll the bliss! It truly is her Divine Birthright!
My new friend here walks with me often and I love just walking and talking with him for hours. Sometimes I think he can feel that sensual swish & sway too. Perhaps not too many men do, but I think in the Caribbean a few more men do than in the US. They dance, for one, and a man who can dance has a lot going for him and more opportunity to tap into the Divine Essence of the sensuality of life.
My body is ripe for a lover but feeling as good as I have been lately without one and just making love with God again, cultivating my sensuality and my love affair with the wind, is satisfying me fully right now. The trouble with men is their resistance. They are too often scared it seems. Scared to surrender themselves fully to the very thing they truly desire which is the love and devotion of one good woman. I spent nearly a decade with a man who I thought had courage only to discover that he too was just a fearful child, scared to be alone and hiding in the nurturance and comfort of woman to escape becoming a strong empowered man. It was his fear ultimately that ruined us. I left him so he could find himself and he couldn't do it. He went right from me to another woman, and then another and another and couldn't even take a day to be without the apron strings.
Being a single woman at mid-age isn't all bad. It's actually pretty nice to feel delicious and independent again; to move on my own flow, to linger when I want to, to invite company or not.
There are so many beautiful men on this rock, but for most I can see that they are unawakened and have no concept of how to really pleasure a woman or what it means to truly merge as divine counterparts. Few men truly do. Like many women, they are poorly programmed, and so the sad state of confusion, and dis-satisfaction between man and woman continues. This, to me, is one of the biggest trajedies I see in the modern world. Unsatisfied poorly programmed women met by men who have been equally poorly programmed to think a woman's job is to please her man by being sexy. When in reality, an awakened man is pleased most by pleasing and taking care of the needs of a woman who, with or without him, is alive and sensually awakened just by the touch of the wind on her skin.
If it means another three year round of celibacy to wait for a lover worthy of this love and this temple, then I will wait. For today, the wind is serving me quite well and I am grateful to know that my standards and needs are worth waiting for a worthy match!
Friday, April 15, 2011
Wind Bliss: Cuba 1
Nothing could feel better than this wind on my skin right now. The palm trees are serenading me in whispy waves of sonic sweetness and as my eyelids peel open I see now the beginnings of this new life.
There is no past, at last. Finally I am free. No one here cares or needs to know about it, and quite frankly, nor do I anymore. There is only now moving into more moments of now to receive me.
Good wind is better than sex for me. It takes away all the pain, offers a resting place in it's caress that no man's touch can ever offer. The wind knows every curve of my body, appreciates every hair on my head, and leaves me satiated to the core of my being.
I'd take the wind as my lover any day over a man if I could. The wind responds to me, even now, suddenly picking up and blasting me full force as I acknowledge her power over me. She can carry me to the far reaches of this earth and beyond, drop me at will, or leave me breathless with desire for more of her savory, intimate body licking.
For now, and that is all there is is "Now" now, I live on a rock in the middle of the ocean. Loving the wind is a lucky thing because it blows like wild here sometimes for days non-stop. When she rages the seas froth and crash against this rock with fury. when she quiets the gentle lapping of the sea soothes me. Still I would take her over a man even in her mysterious comings and going. She at least always delivers! The wind never needs coddling or fixing or any attention from me to bring it's gifts forth. She is always changing yet Her essence remains the same forevermore.
I've been her on this rock for less than a month, but it feels more like a year already. I saunter down these dusty streets and alleys carefree and no one ever looks at me as if I don't belong. Even as clear as it must be that I don't, I've never even had anyone here raise an eyebrow at me as I am cutting thru their alleys and backyards, talking to their dogs as if they were my own, in what must sound like pretty garbled Spanish to them. No one seems to notice or care that there's a middle aged white woman cruising thur the village falling in love with a way of life that they'd love to leave behind.
Most people here want to go to the US or Spain, or Italy. As usual the BS propaganda of modern culture has confused their minds to believe that the grass is greener with cell phones and techno-culture, and that more money is the way to more happiness, even if it's at the cost of time with your family and friends and in reality isolates you from your community. Somehow, everyone around the world has bought this same story: hook, line and sinker and all the truly good quality things in life have been underrated and undervalued.
The wind brings me home here. I grew up not so far from this rock, so perhaps she knows my name here and remembers my prayers offered over and over across the sea. That's the past too though, and none of that is real anymore either.
All we ever really have is this moment: NOW. While it is always fleeting, it is always present. It is the stillpoint between the worlds: Past----NOW----Future. It is really the only place of peace we can have. It's the only reality there is and how we interact with it somehow seems to have a great effect on the stories we leave behind and put forth into tomorrow.
Now tells me everything in saying nothing and nothing is in everything. The rational mind can't really comprehend any of it but somehow the soul and spirit are fully in alignment in the present moment if we can just be here Now.
There is no past, at last. Finally I am free. No one here cares or needs to know about it, and quite frankly, nor do I anymore. There is only now moving into more moments of now to receive me.
Good wind is better than sex for me. It takes away all the pain, offers a resting place in it's caress that no man's touch can ever offer. The wind knows every curve of my body, appreciates every hair on my head, and leaves me satiated to the core of my being.
I'd take the wind as my lover any day over a man if I could. The wind responds to me, even now, suddenly picking up and blasting me full force as I acknowledge her power over me. She can carry me to the far reaches of this earth and beyond, drop me at will, or leave me breathless with desire for more of her savory, intimate body licking.
For now, and that is all there is is "Now" now, I live on a rock in the middle of the ocean. Loving the wind is a lucky thing because it blows like wild here sometimes for days non-stop. When she rages the seas froth and crash against this rock with fury. when she quiets the gentle lapping of the sea soothes me. Still I would take her over a man even in her mysterious comings and going. She at least always delivers! The wind never needs coddling or fixing or any attention from me to bring it's gifts forth. She is always changing yet Her essence remains the same forevermore.
I've been her on this rock for less than a month, but it feels more like a year already. I saunter down these dusty streets and alleys carefree and no one ever looks at me as if I don't belong. Even as clear as it must be that I don't, I've never even had anyone here raise an eyebrow at me as I am cutting thru their alleys and backyards, talking to their dogs as if they were my own, in what must sound like pretty garbled Spanish to them. No one seems to notice or care that there's a middle aged white woman cruising thur the village falling in love with a way of life that they'd love to leave behind.
Most people here want to go to the US or Spain, or Italy. As usual the BS propaganda of modern culture has confused their minds to believe that the grass is greener with cell phones and techno-culture, and that more money is the way to more happiness, even if it's at the cost of time with your family and friends and in reality isolates you from your community. Somehow, everyone around the world has bought this same story: hook, line and sinker and all the truly good quality things in life have been underrated and undervalued.
The wind brings me home here. I grew up not so far from this rock, so perhaps she knows my name here and remembers my prayers offered over and over across the sea. That's the past too though, and none of that is real anymore either.
All we ever really have is this moment: NOW. While it is always fleeting, it is always present. It is the stillpoint between the worlds: Past----NOW----Future. It is really the only place of peace we can have. It's the only reality there is and how we interact with it somehow seems to have a great effect on the stories we leave behind and put forth into tomorrow.
Now tells me everything in saying nothing and nothing is in everything. The rational mind can't really comprehend any of it but somehow the soul and spirit are fully in alignment in the present moment if we can just be here Now.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Cuba Entry ? Unknown Order?
Jesus Limon Morales: My teacher and Renowned Afro-Cuban Music Composer in Cuba
My teachers invited me to a Santeria Ceremony a few days ago. I accepted with full enthusiasm, having no real idea what I was getting myself into but really excited to have been invited in my first week here to experience a ceremony in this ancient tradition first hand. Somehow in my mind, I created a vision of what I thought it might be, both from their enthusiasm and the fact that it seemed like everywhere I looked,as we were getting ready to depart, there were Santos whirling about. I assumed they were all going to the same event. I was visualizing this huge gathering, maybe outdoors somewhere with hordes of drummers and dancers from all over the area. My new friend Jose, the guitar player, warned me to keep my eyes open and protect my heart. He thought I might be too emotionally open and that it could be dangerous for me to not keep my guard up. "You may see things you have never seen before, so be careful and don't let yourself get emotionally involved." Those words of course made the suspense and excitement grow in leaps and bounds!
Ishmael, my angel already, walked with me in his snazzy white pants and sharp shoes to get a cab and we all climbed in and took off on my first adventure into exploring this religion and culture that is Santeria. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into, but my heart told me it was right, good and safe and I trusted in that knowingness fully! I wonder what they think of this little white woman who has just shown up in their lives like a sponge to absorb their wisdom and witness their lives. I am so comfortable with these beautiful people. I've never been here, but it's familiar in ways I can't explain, and they are familiar in spirit like some family I've returned home to. I'm walking in and out of people's homes as if I've been here for years or my whole life, and this is only the 5th day here! I'm jumping fully into this with all of my being and loving every minute of it! Somehow I know they can see and feel that my heart and intentions are pure and I feel like that's why things have opened up for me so quickly and effortlessly!
We got to the ceremony and I was simutaneously relieved and disappointed that it was a small, intimate house ceremony with about 25 people. This was a very safe container and a very safe place to be and the intimacy was welcomed. I was instantly engrossed in the moment and the spectacle that was already in full swing when we arrived. The ceremony was held at a home in a neighboring town, a little apartment style house with a small living space that was jam packed full of people. As we entered, we doused our foreheads and hands with rose petal water to clean and purify ourselves. No one really seemed to acknowledge anything out of the ordinary when the little white woman walked in, so I felt like it was OK that I was there though I wouldn't say I exactly felt "welcomed" right away. It was an intense vibe. No one (except Jesus) smiled at me or really even looked at me for quite a while. My teachers were drumming and singing beautiful Orisha chants in Yoruba and this little living room was rocking! I was dancing and in bliss right away and my heart was smiling the biggest smile ever! The dream is alive.
An elder woman sat in the corner, eyes closed, swaying back and forth with the drums, deeply in trance next to the drummers. Jesus Sr. was playing the bell in a blue silk shirt, ragged jeans and a blue khaki cap topping his smiling head. He would give me the biggest toothiest grin, and be singing the songs with really big mouth gestures to try to help me get the words. His big joyful eyes drew my heart to opening right away! So much for Jose's warning! The music was so powerful, so beautiful and alive as Jesuscito (Jesus Jr) would call out the songs and everyone else would sing the responses. I gained mad respect for the Jesus's skill today. They are such skilled musicians and spirit guides! These two men are my new rhythm friends and I totally feel and understand their hearts in service to the people thru rhythm. I couldn't help but feel amazed and overwhelmingly grateful that spirit has so quickly brought me to these masters to learn and experience this magic that is Santeria.
It wasn't long after we arrived that the woman in the corner started shaking and convulsing. Spirit was taking her on a journey. A woman in a green shirt fell into possession and thrashed about nearly knocking over the altar in her violent gestures, head snaps and pops. Another woman, dressed in red popped next and so it went into whirling stumbling trances and possessions, people getting occassionally carried out when they got too high. Throughout the 3 hours, there were several intermittent episodes of the elder woman in the corner getting up and pushing every one else out of the way in her reeling and flopping around, stumbling and falling into the drums, then opening her eyes to see the support of her community and family witnessing her trance, she would smile and go back in. I gathered that the ceremony had some special significance for her healing as she seemed to be given special treatment and space. Just as in our ceremonies with the Muse work, Firedance, etc. the dancer was watched and kept safe by the others present, and more than once this elder woman fell into my arms and was supported to re-enter her trance by a place to lean into and re-group.
All the while Jesus just kept hammering the most beautiful grooves and ecstatic trance with his voice and the rhythms merging into shared communion with spirit, self and community. Sofiah, a tiny wrinkled woman with no teeth danced next to me for the whole ceremony, grabbing my arm or hitting me softly when she was really feeling it, her squinty eyes smiling out at me from the wrinkles. She was adorable and so loving having my company there to share the journey with her. All the women were so given to the dance and we danced together for 3 hours joining in a universal place beyond the physical realm that transcends all differences.
I laughed thinking of Jose's "warning" a few hours ago! How could my heart be anything but open here? There was nothing to protect myself from or be afraid of, and I knew there would be nothing here that was unfamiliar to me or scary in any way. I have seen in my work with drum and dance all kinds of states of trance, possession and spirit magic and even though much of it has not been "traditional" in the way that this is, still spirit moves people thru rhythm in very similar ways energetcially. This is my home! The world of spirit, rhythm, trance, dance and magic is no place I could even consider closing my heart to. This living room and everyone in it know and understand the same heart/spirit space that I do, they understand this connection, and all of us were there together in harmony and total surrender to the rhythm spirits.
The trance brought the older woman back to the dance and after some time of wobbling around and stumbling, she suddenly stood up straight and opened her eyes again. It was as if something in her had lifted and been cleansed, or healed. Her smile was bright and she looked 20 years younger. She picked up a bouquuet of basil and thrashed us all good with it, hitting the young men squarely on their crotches as if to acknowledge their naughtiness, the she sat back down by the drums and went inside again.
The ceremony closed with a beautiful chant to Elegua and a path was made to the door for Elegua to go on his way. We shared sweets and I discovered I indeed have a spirit family here in Cuba. We have danced together, shared our hearts and witnessed each other in altered states of consciousness created solely by music and entrainment. We are now family in a way only those of us who know this path can know or understand fully. It is an unbreakable bond to share this kind of experience. When I walked in no one smiled at me, but now we were all smiling and hugging each other.
I am living a dream I've been dreaming of for a lot of years and I'm choosing today to say that this is just the beginning! Returning to the Roots and loving every minute!
My teachers invited me to a Santeria Ceremony a few days ago. I accepted with full enthusiasm, having no real idea what I was getting myself into but really excited to have been invited in my first week here to experience a ceremony in this ancient tradition first hand. Somehow in my mind, I created a vision of what I thought it might be, both from their enthusiasm and the fact that it seemed like everywhere I looked,as we were getting ready to depart, there were Santos whirling about. I assumed they were all going to the same event. I was visualizing this huge gathering, maybe outdoors somewhere with hordes of drummers and dancers from all over the area. My new friend Jose, the guitar player, warned me to keep my eyes open and protect my heart. He thought I might be too emotionally open and that it could be dangerous for me to not keep my guard up. "You may see things you have never seen before, so be careful and don't let yourself get emotionally involved." Those words of course made the suspense and excitement grow in leaps and bounds!
Ishmael, my angel already, walked with me in his snazzy white pants and sharp shoes to get a cab and we all climbed in and took off on my first adventure into exploring this religion and culture that is Santeria. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into, but my heart told me it was right, good and safe and I trusted in that knowingness fully! I wonder what they think of this little white woman who has just shown up in their lives like a sponge to absorb their wisdom and witness their lives. I am so comfortable with these beautiful people. I've never been here, but it's familiar in ways I can't explain, and they are familiar in spirit like some family I've returned home to. I'm walking in and out of people's homes as if I've been here for years or my whole life, and this is only the 5th day here! I'm jumping fully into this with all of my being and loving every minute of it! Somehow I know they can see and feel that my heart and intentions are pure and I feel like that's why things have opened up for me so quickly and effortlessly!
We got to the ceremony and I was simutaneously relieved and disappointed that it was a small, intimate house ceremony with about 25 people. This was a very safe container and a very safe place to be and the intimacy was welcomed. I was instantly engrossed in the moment and the spectacle that was already in full swing when we arrived. The ceremony was held at a home in a neighboring town, a little apartment style house with a small living space that was jam packed full of people. As we entered, we doused our foreheads and hands with rose petal water to clean and purify ourselves. No one really seemed to acknowledge anything out of the ordinary when the little white woman walked in, so I felt like it was OK that I was there though I wouldn't say I exactly felt "welcomed" right away. It was an intense vibe. No one (except Jesus) smiled at me or really even looked at me for quite a while. My teachers were drumming and singing beautiful Orisha chants in Yoruba and this little living room was rocking! I was dancing and in bliss right away and my heart was smiling the biggest smile ever! The dream is alive.
An elder woman sat in the corner, eyes closed, swaying back and forth with the drums, deeply in trance next to the drummers. Jesus Sr. was playing the bell in a blue silk shirt, ragged jeans and a blue khaki cap topping his smiling head. He would give me the biggest toothiest grin, and be singing the songs with really big mouth gestures to try to help me get the words. His big joyful eyes drew my heart to opening right away! So much for Jose's warning! The music was so powerful, so beautiful and alive as Jesuscito (Jesus Jr) would call out the songs and everyone else would sing the responses. I gained mad respect for the Jesus's skill today. They are such skilled musicians and spirit guides! These two men are my new rhythm friends and I totally feel and understand their hearts in service to the people thru rhythm. I couldn't help but feel amazed and overwhelmingly grateful that spirit has so quickly brought me to these masters to learn and experience this magic that is Santeria.
It wasn't long after we arrived that the woman in the corner started shaking and convulsing. Spirit was taking her on a journey. A woman in a green shirt fell into possession and thrashed about nearly knocking over the altar in her violent gestures, head snaps and pops. Another woman, dressed in red popped next and so it went into whirling stumbling trances and possessions, people getting occassionally carried out when they got too high. Throughout the 3 hours, there were several intermittent episodes of the elder woman in the corner getting up and pushing every one else out of the way in her reeling and flopping around, stumbling and falling into the drums, then opening her eyes to see the support of her community and family witnessing her trance, she would smile and go back in. I gathered that the ceremony had some special significance for her healing as she seemed to be given special treatment and space. Just as in our ceremonies with the Muse work, Firedance, etc. the dancer was watched and kept safe by the others present, and more than once this elder woman fell into my arms and was supported to re-enter her trance by a place to lean into and re-group.
All the while Jesus just kept hammering the most beautiful grooves and ecstatic trance with his voice and the rhythms merging into shared communion with spirit, self and community. Sofiah, a tiny wrinkled woman with no teeth danced next to me for the whole ceremony, grabbing my arm or hitting me softly when she was really feeling it, her squinty eyes smiling out at me from the wrinkles. She was adorable and so loving having my company there to share the journey with her. All the women were so given to the dance and we danced together for 3 hours joining in a universal place beyond the physical realm that transcends all differences.
I laughed thinking of Jose's "warning" a few hours ago! How could my heart be anything but open here? There was nothing to protect myself from or be afraid of, and I knew there would be nothing here that was unfamiliar to me or scary in any way. I have seen in my work with drum and dance all kinds of states of trance, possession and spirit magic and even though much of it has not been "traditional" in the way that this is, still spirit moves people thru rhythm in very similar ways energetcially. This is my home! The world of spirit, rhythm, trance, dance and magic is no place I could even consider closing my heart to. This living room and everyone in it know and understand the same heart/spirit space that I do, they understand this connection, and all of us were there together in harmony and total surrender to the rhythm spirits.
The trance brought the older woman back to the dance and after some time of wobbling around and stumbling, she suddenly stood up straight and opened her eyes again. It was as if something in her had lifted and been cleansed, or healed. Her smile was bright and she looked 20 years younger. She picked up a bouquuet of basil and thrashed us all good with it, hitting the young men squarely on their crotches as if to acknowledge their naughtiness, the she sat back down by the drums and went inside again.
The ceremony closed with a beautiful chant to Elegua and a path was made to the door for Elegua to go on his way. We shared sweets and I discovered I indeed have a spirit family here in Cuba. We have danced together, shared our hearts and witnessed each other in altered states of consciousness created solely by music and entrainment. We are now family in a way only those of us who know this path can know or understand fully. It is an unbreakable bond to share this kind of experience. When I walked in no one smiled at me, but now we were all smiling and hugging each other.
I am living a dream I've been dreaming of for a lot of years and I'm choosing today to say that this is just the beginning! Returning to the Roots and loving every minute!
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Day 3/Cuba: Journal Entry from the Trip to the Rock in the Caribbean
Day 3 here on this rock in the Caribbean Sea. I feel rebellious and so blissed out of my gourd I can barely stand it. Officially, by record, I'm nowhere, I've disappeared and some part of me wonders what would happen if I just didn't go back in 3 weeks. If it were all over tomorrow and a big wave came up and swept me away, I'd die content. I've had an amazing life, and the magic that has happened here in the past 3 days would have me flying back to source with a big smile on my face knowing I have lived a dream I've had for many years!
My first night, my friend Frank and I were wandering around the streets of this little ocean village and came across a man who amazingly spoke English. There aren't many here. I told him I was here seeking to learn about the Santeria Religion and Rhythms, and he informed me that he'd just heard some drumming behind his house and gave me directions. We hunted down the house and the Bembe (Santos ceremony of music, song and dance) was just ending. People in white were filtering outside and dispersing into the streets. Since I had just landed, I hadn't yet had any time to get a grasp on what is acceptable and how to approach this, so I was feeling a mixture of total excitement, and some nervousness about approaching anyone. Especially since my Spanish is far from fluent still! I could feel this little buzz in my heart and couldn't believe my good fortune that the very first night I am here, I would come upon this so quickly!
So I hovered outside, and Frank was encouraging me to wait til the morning and come back to the house and ask. Me being me though, I just didn't want to wait til morning for what I could maybe initiate now. So I hovered, and watched and waited and Frank and I cracked jokes about having ourselves sacrificied for being there hovering outside of their sacred space cracking jokes about being sacrficied! A very tall man somehow energetically caught my attention, and I decided he was the one I would approach, or maybe Spirit had decided for me. I was laughing at myself, "Sure pick the biggest guy around who looks the most intimidating and start there!" As he left, I grabbed Frank by the arm and followed him down the street, and I don't think Frank was super comfortable with all of this by the way. We followed him until he was about 100 yards from the house and I attempted to communicate in my limited Spanish that with all due respect, I had a question and would he be willing to grant me permission to ask. He was gracious, looked at me kind of funny at first (probably my Spanish), and said, "Si." When I told him I was interested in learning about the religion and the music, he gave a big smile and told me to come to his house, which we were now standing in front of, the next day at 10 AM and he would have someone there to teach me. His name was Ishmael, and I feel somehow like he is an angel indeed brought to me, or I to him to start this magical journey!
The next day I showed up at Ishmael's home. Ishmael is a big, beautiful, mature man, maybe in his late 40's, tall, elegant and with a tender heart and a kind way about him. He showed me his altars in his home honoring the different Orisha's of his tradition, Ilegua (the keeper of the doors between the worlds) lives behind his door to guard the opening to the house, Ogun & Chango were in the living room near the kitchen and assured me that "poco a poco" I would come to know more. I was glad I came with atleast a little knowledge of Santeria and the Orisha's from my time exploring on my own and my own spiritual guidance that has cracked open those doors for me. His house was tidy, and simple like most homes there and he led me out back to the "yard" which really is just a concrete slab with a tree coming out of it where I would be taking my lessons.
The doors here are opening for me and quickly. Everywhere I look there are Santos,and I have learned a lot in just a few short days about the religion. I have taken 2 drum classes already with Jesus Limon Morales and his son Jesucito. As it turns out, Jesus Limon Morales is a pretty well known composer (some here say "famosa") of Afro Cuban music here, so miraculously, in this little village by the sea, I was led to some pretty solid real deal connections!
The first lesson I was a little nervous I guess and had a really hard time with the language barrier, but it was beautiful because even with that, we were still able to have this profound conversation about how singing, drumming and dancing activate the mind to heal and help us to connect in ways that nothing else really does. I felt like these two men I'd just met understand something I know and feel that it seems few others do. They really understand the body/mind/spirit connection of the rhythms and their effects. They understand how it opens the portal to the Divine.
I felt like we understood each other on this whole other level, a very real level somehow and I left feeling more connected in just a few short hours to these men than I do to a lot of people I have known for years and realizing that the people I feel the most "family" with in my heart are those who understand these truths fully.
I am here with deep and ancient spirits, my teachers lineage goes back generations in the Santeria tradition, all the way back to the Yoruba roots. In a few days they are taking me to my first ceremony here and I am feeling very honored and blessed to feel the portals opening to me here! I rest tonite giving thanks for every part of the journey that has brought me here now.
My first night, my friend Frank and I were wandering around the streets of this little ocean village and came across a man who amazingly spoke English. There aren't many here. I told him I was here seeking to learn about the Santeria Religion and Rhythms, and he informed me that he'd just heard some drumming behind his house and gave me directions. We hunted down the house and the Bembe (Santos ceremony of music, song and dance) was just ending. People in white were filtering outside and dispersing into the streets. Since I had just landed, I hadn't yet had any time to get a grasp on what is acceptable and how to approach this, so I was feeling a mixture of total excitement, and some nervousness about approaching anyone. Especially since my Spanish is far from fluent still! I could feel this little buzz in my heart and couldn't believe my good fortune that the very first night I am here, I would come upon this so quickly!
So I hovered outside, and Frank was encouraging me to wait til the morning and come back to the house and ask. Me being me though, I just didn't want to wait til morning for what I could maybe initiate now. So I hovered, and watched and waited and Frank and I cracked jokes about having ourselves sacrificied for being there hovering outside of their sacred space cracking jokes about being sacrficied! A very tall man somehow energetically caught my attention, and I decided he was the one I would approach, or maybe Spirit had decided for me. I was laughing at myself, "Sure pick the biggest guy around who looks the most intimidating and start there!" As he left, I grabbed Frank by the arm and followed him down the street, and I don't think Frank was super comfortable with all of this by the way. We followed him until he was about 100 yards from the house and I attempted to communicate in my limited Spanish that with all due respect, I had a question and would he be willing to grant me permission to ask. He was gracious, looked at me kind of funny at first (probably my Spanish), and said, "Si." When I told him I was interested in learning about the religion and the music, he gave a big smile and told me to come to his house, which we were now standing in front of, the next day at 10 AM and he would have someone there to teach me. His name was Ishmael, and I feel somehow like he is an angel indeed brought to me, or I to him to start this magical journey!
The next day I showed up at Ishmael's home. Ishmael is a big, beautiful, mature man, maybe in his late 40's, tall, elegant and with a tender heart and a kind way about him. He showed me his altars in his home honoring the different Orisha's of his tradition, Ilegua (the keeper of the doors between the worlds) lives behind his door to guard the opening to the house, Ogun & Chango were in the living room near the kitchen and assured me that "poco a poco" I would come to know more. I was glad I came with atleast a little knowledge of Santeria and the Orisha's from my time exploring on my own and my own spiritual guidance that has cracked open those doors for me. His house was tidy, and simple like most homes there and he led me out back to the "yard" which really is just a concrete slab with a tree coming out of it where I would be taking my lessons.
The doors here are opening for me and quickly. Everywhere I look there are Santos,and I have learned a lot in just a few short days about the religion. I have taken 2 drum classes already with Jesus Limon Morales and his son Jesucito. As it turns out, Jesus Limon Morales is a pretty well known composer (some here say "famosa") of Afro Cuban music here, so miraculously, in this little village by the sea, I was led to some pretty solid real deal connections!
The first lesson I was a little nervous I guess and had a really hard time with the language barrier, but it was beautiful because even with that, we were still able to have this profound conversation about how singing, drumming and dancing activate the mind to heal and help us to connect in ways that nothing else really does. I felt like these two men I'd just met understand something I know and feel that it seems few others do. They really understand the body/mind/spirit connection of the rhythms and their effects. They understand how it opens the portal to the Divine.
I felt like we understood each other on this whole other level, a very real level somehow and I left feeling more connected in just a few short hours to these men than I do to a lot of people I have known for years and realizing that the people I feel the most "family" with in my heart are those who understand these truths fully.
I am here with deep and ancient spirits, my teachers lineage goes back generations in the Santeria tradition, all the way back to the Yoruba roots. In a few days they are taking me to my first ceremony here and I am feeling very honored and blessed to feel the portals opening to me here! I rest tonite giving thanks for every part of the journey that has brought me here now.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Initiation: Returning to the Roots
My shower tonite felt like a ritual. Tomorrow I fly to Cuba for 20 days and I feel like it is some kind of overdue long awaited intiation.
Memories of a circle in Florida, playing all night long where I felt the Orisha's dancing my body, where I first began to understand the reality of spirit posession and it's power and purpose. Memories of a night in Georgia where they ripped through my core and overtook me fully and I became their vessel for play and expression. So many memories of these Rhythm Spirits, some so far back in my consciousness I know they weren't from this life. I have been tentative to approach them, but I have been called more than once to hear their voices.
I bathed tonite in release of my past and in surrender to this unique path of rhythm and magic that is my life's passion and purpose.
I hear them calling me home and at last I have found the courage to answer.
Memories of a circle in Florida, playing all night long where I felt the Orisha's dancing my body, where I first began to understand the reality of spirit posession and it's power and purpose. Memories of a night in Georgia where they ripped through my core and overtook me fully and I became their vessel for play and expression. So many memories of these Rhythm Spirits, some so far back in my consciousness I know they weren't from this life. I have been tentative to approach them, but I have been called more than once to hear their voices.
I bathed tonite in release of my past and in surrender to this unique path of rhythm and magic that is my life's passion and purpose.
I hear them calling me home and at last I have found the courage to answer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)