This is an act of remembrance. Bearing witness to the transformation of consciousness by participating in the exploration of one's own awakening. Fully invested in having spiritual clarity about our purpose on earth, about how our psycho-spiritual body manifests its truth in the world.
I've traveled through mountains and seas to experience how different communities live, transform, heal and create together. It particularly interests me the phenomenon of the body awakening to it's own healing capacities, through movement, breath, nutrition, meditation visualizations, contemplative practices, self-inquiry and tuning into the subtle energetic flow of chakras, pranas and archetypal wisdom.
I know it's possible to experience a certain state of awareness that allows for the essence to unravel, for the spirit to flow through us and to consciously inhabit states of heightened happiness, health and wellbeing.
I care about healing because I've been very close to death. My father passed when I was 3, my best friend died of cancer when I was 12, as well as my cousin when I was 15, the best friend of my partner when I was 21 had brain tumour, my grandmother died of pancreas cancer, my grandfather of dementia, my uncle of brain cancer... And I stayed close to them throughout their death, caring for them, holding their hand till the last breath, clearing the tension of the hospital room just with my mere presence. Bringing light and hope to the few moments that were evidently disappearing in front of us. I recognize the eyes when a soul surrenders to the cycle of life-death. I know the smell of death. And I know deep inside, the terrifying emptiness of losing a loved one.
The miracle of life interests me so much. How is it that it all comes together? how does a body remain and the soul flies away when a person dies? how is it that the ones who stay feel the vibrancy of their presence even 25 years later of a father dying? Can a person exist in a body without consciousness?
In my travels, I've journeyed through the depths of my own consciousness with plant medicine, entheogenics and various meditation practices (from native american vision quests, to buddhist and vedic techniques). During my last visioning journey in CA, I felt the presence of Carmita and the apparition of abuela Tita as Kali, the death goddess. They made me feel the pain and the sadness that my grandparents must have had by raising a child with mental disability, and yet the tenderness and sweetness that she brought to our family. "Yo soy tu mama.. yo soy tu." Carmita, my mother's sister used to repeat while she sat patiently in her sofa cornered to one side of the living room. She suffered from severe epileptic seizures, and her brain had remained like an 8 year old inhabiting the decrypting body of a 50 year old woman. Since I was little, my grandmother taught me how to care for her. I was 8, she was 37, and I would bathe her, comb her hair, dress her. Her hands fascinated me. Because she barely the left the house to walk once a day around the block, and her daily activities were sowing and drawing, her hands were the softest thing I've ever touched in my life. White, tender silky hands, like soft porcelain. She would hold my hand while we listened to music on Sunday afternoons.
Her presence appeared in my visions. In part, I was named after her: Maria del Carmen, and I always sort of despised that part of my name. It felt too serious, too ancient, too old continent. And now that I've decided to erase it from my name to simplify my life and vow to the mountain and the sea that is present in 'Mar' y 'Sierra', she comes again. It's perhaps a sign that the ghost of the past won't ever go away. And that I must continue inquiring how her life influenced who I am today. But we released her. I released her from me. I let her soul travel safely to where she needs to go. And I will honor her memory by working closer with death. I do not fear working with dying people, and I accept my role as a caregiver. It is one of the works I've come here to do. And today, as I'm writing this story, I'm 29 years old, it's the middle of the year and I realize that she was 29 years older than me. Funny coincidence, but I don't really believe it is a coincidence. There is a lesson above my comprehension here.
During this essence quest, Quetzalcoatl is also present, the serpent with wings. The snake that traverses the muddy-earthy world, and yet, it has wings that liberate her from the mundane and gross reality. I felt the ascension process by understanding my pain, by liberating me from the guilt and the confusion. Healing my contracted neck brought a new sense of lightness, of freedom and wellbeing, of elevated grace, where there is no fear and no pain, no judgement, no inertia, but pure flow and trust in the divine path.
Paintings by Egon Schiele | They evoke the feeling that Carmita left on me, crooked existence, raw flesh, skinny hands, sharp and penetrating eyes.