One version of this Legend tells us about how a dying Shaman, and leader of his Tribe, instructed the Tribe to seek out their new “Dream.” “Dream,” as used here, refers to the Tribe’s collective idea, or “Tonal,” or image of what their “Home” and “Society” constituted.
A number of my posts have focused on travel and the literal, “Finding Home,”and this is no different.
When I wrote my series on Boquillas, I mentioned that while writing it I went down several “Rabbit Holes” as I did my background research. The root of this expression, of course, traces back to the book “Alice in Wonderland,” where Alice follows the White Rabbit down his hole and into Wonderland.*
And one can certainly argue about whether “Wonderland” is the appropriate name for that subterranean realm because Alice’s adventures there don’t seem to be all that marvelous and delightful.
But that’s another Rabbit Hole that I’ll dodge for the moment.
So here we are, down one of the many side tunnels I ran down when exploring Southern Texas and Northern Mexico. This one is about an Ancient Legend and an Ancient Pterosaur.
How did I get here? And how do these two things overlap?
I can rotate the stories I “post” to the top of my page with “post-it notes.” And from time to time, I feel like it is time to change it up a bit. Give the cover a different look so to speak.
This time around, I picked stories or poetry of mine that had the highest number of likes. This is biased because some of my oldest stories really weren’t given much exposure because I didn’t have as many followers at the time they were posted. Also, giving certain posts more exposure now at the top of the page necessarily fuels the bias.
Nevertheless, this is always fun. I’ve noticed that readers seem to enjoy the posts that are really expressive, raw, full of emotion, personal, maybe even heart-wrenching, or conversely inspiring. That makes sense because people have the desire to feel.
They want to be touched.
I’ll be back with some new posts here pretty soon, but in the meantime, if you haven’t seen these six before, have a look. 😊
Photos: These pics are from a dome-roofed structure on the grounds of the Atlantis Hotel in the Bahamas. I was not staying there as a guest. I was merely touring the place. They have no relation to this post at all, except maybe in the context of seeing new things, and being fun 🙂
Castaneda writes about our being able to perceive the Auras, or the “Cocoon” of energy around people (luminous beings or light beings) and that you are able to tell if an individual’s Tonal is good. And having a good Tonal is a prerequisite to developing yourself as a Nagual.
One day, the Brujo “sees” a person with a good Tonal sitting in the town square where they are visiting. And he requires, as part of Castaneda’s training, for him to introduce himself to this person and to offer assistance with any task that this person needs to perform. Castaneda complies and he assists the woman in a somewhat strained manner.
I forget now, what it was he helped her with, but that is irrelevant to my tale.
. . . Much to my amazement, he began, literally, climbing the shelves in this tiny but high-ceilinged shop, in pursuit of the golden liquid of which I wished to partake . . .
Right off the bat, I must tell you that my title is not referring to the Walt Disney movie Fantasia that included Micky Mouse as the reckless “Sorcerer’s Apprentice.” Nor does it refer to the 1797 poem, “Der Zauberlehrling,” written by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe upon which Disney borrowed for its 1940 film. A film that that became re-energized among the psychedelic counterculture of the 1960s and 1970s, where everybody was dropping a hit of acid, or two, and going to see Mickey Mouse trying to control a bunch of angry brooms carrying buckets of water.
No, I’m talking about actually meeting a real Sorcerer and his apprentice. And yes, this is yet another rabbit hole I’m going down after yesterday’s Rabbit Hole post. It happened at the same time as that story when I was in Mexico for that “agricultural exchange,“ and, with this writing, you could say that I’m still stumbling about in that “Warren.“
Note: Since this is a continuation of the first and second post in this series (“Wondrous Souls,” & “Wondrous Souls – Dyad”) I’ve begun with the last few lines of the second post to kick this one off. To try to keep you in the rhythm of the story without you having to refer back to the previous post.
It was truly a trading of energies, and we painted images in each other’s minds with the words we spoke. And I believe revealed our Souls. Our true essence.
That has a lasting effect on you. And it certainly has with me. It gives you hope for all of humanity.
One thing she told me about being on those long trails, like the PCT, the Continental Divide Trail and the Appalachian Trail – known as the Big Three – you never have to explain yourself.
Everyone on those trails has an innate understanding of the ardor of the Soul being activated there.
Note: Since this is a continuation of the first post “Wondrous Souls,” I’ve begun with the last paragraph of that post to kick this one off. To try to keep you in the rhythm of the story without you having to refer back to that post.
I was blessed to run into a few of these shining Souls during my travels this past Summer. I’ve experienced bad ones as well, but that’s another story for another day. And if I’m choosing definitions, I take door number three, or at least a part of it – “emotional or intellectual energy or intensity.” But instead of this intensity being revealed in some other tangible art form, I would say this energy is, as definition number four implies, embodied in those people. I would equate these good Souls with Fine Art! Literally. Because meeting such people awakens something inside yourself and you make contact on an entirely different level.
IntroNote: I figured after my last post, which was critical of certain human behaviors, that it would good to balance that out and write a piece focusing on the good you encounter when meeting certain Souls. 🙂
It’s hard for me to imagine that sixty plus years have flown by. Day-by-day, we march on. At first enjoying the freedom that comes with having parents watching over us. Our only responsibility being to grow, explore, and learn. Then we leave the nest and become involved in whatever, hoping to return to that freedom someday. Somehow. Recapture that innocence. Where our Souls are not bound. Not tethered to material demands.
Now, there are a number of areas in the States that are “Big Sky Country.” And Big Bend is one of those places.* Where the horizons stretch on forever. A vast expanse. It’s difficult to tell where the Earth ends and the Sky begins.
It is a mirage within a mirage.
The only thing offering a tethering to the ground in Big Bend are the Chisos Mountains. They break the joint between skyline and chaparral and provide definition. They restore the sense of gravity that would otherwise vanish completely.
In these places we get that duality of striking beauty mixed with the desolate and dangerous. It’s enchanting and alluring here, but there is deception because if you’re not careful you could easily die from the elements.
When I arrived at Big Bend, half of the National Park, as well as the River running through it, remained closed to us humans due to COVID. But, nearby Big Bend Ranch State Park, and the section of the River running through it, were still running wild and free. No restrictions. And as I have learned in the past, one of the best vantage points to take in such alluring scenery is on the River that runs through it.
I had booked a day-trip and was joined by two other passengers to embark on a leisurely Oar Raft tour meandering through the River’s Colorado Canyon.
While most of my adventures involve hiking, or utilizing some other mode of travel like river rafting or horseback riding, through the wilderness, another very important part of this exploration, and of every escapade of mine, is a perusal through, and the translation of, the words describing the back country I’m reconnoitering. (Whew! That was a big sentence.) The words themselves can relay vital pieces of history or give you some historical context.
I started out thinking of America as highways and state lines. As I got to know it better, I began to think of it as rivers. Charles Kuralt
I have to say this quote rings true. It resonates with me because I’ve been traveling for the past four years and what I’ve discovered is that the majority of population centers I’ve encountered are centered upon Rivers.
And it makes sense.
In the beginnings of our hostile takeover of these lands, Rivers provided the major sources of water and food. They provided the major travel and trading routes of the time. Those advantages persist, although they may have shifted in form.
Many of the people whom I’ve met in these towns have lost that historical connection. They no longer see the River or feel its Presence. They are detached from how these waterways formed the basis of their communities.*
And more importantly, how the Rivers shaped the land.
I love this quote. Of course, I love talking about “Heartbeats” and about “Nature.” Our Heartbeats might be our internal representation of our Universal Clock. They keep us in tune with the Magic of Life.
They should never be wasted.
“There comes a time when the world gets quiet and the only thing left is your own heart. So you’d better learn the sound of it. Otherwise you’ll never understand what it’s saying.” ― Sarah Dessen
An amazing insight from Ms. Dessen. Ponder that one for a bit and comment if it resonates with you.
Well, with yesterday’s post, I hit the 300 mark. That’s really not a true milestone because I’ve already passed it by over a hundred posts that I’ve already taken down, but I kind of like the sound of it. It’s a nice even number, and the odd number 3, the sum of those digits, represents creativity, birth and the mystical. And WP certainly provides us all a great forum to express that magical creativity. Creating images with words. Pouring feelings on to the pages.
Now I mention this because I’d like to take a moment to thank the blogging community here on WP. I’ve been absent for most of this past summer, yet you guys still stuck around, came back to read my latest posts.
And I’m grateful for that.
When you read one of my posts, you are spending your time, your Heartbeats, your most valuable possession, to share thoughts with me.
That is a tremendous gift!
At the moment, I am working on the next chapter of Ongtupqa, and I hope to post it soon. In the mean time, I’ve gone back and updated a couple of my posts by adding video clips.
Being at “home” is not just being in a physical location, and arguably a physical location is not even required. It’s a mental state of well-being. Of being in a place where you’re not only physically comfortable, but where you’re loved and where you express your love freely. It is a combination of all our senses – sight, hearing, touch, and even taste and smell. Add intuition as well. It could be in the embrace of a lover. Or just lying in a grassy meadow by oneself. A place of total peace and contentment. And every adventure of ours will hopefully bring us a step closer to finding such a magical place . . .