Do you ever wonder how or why you ever survived something? Oh you know, them little miracles that are hard to explain. Happens to all of us. We simply just blow them off. Or find a logical explanation for them and go on our way. Don’t have to be an In jun for this one.
Reason I say this is because it happen to me several times in my lifetime eh, big time. Let me throw this concept out at yea before I go on, and on, and on like I do. First off, it is my contention that once we manage to get into the spirit world, whether it be by meditation, visions, invitation, drugs or even death. We come to realize it’s a universal place, especially the world next to ours.
There is both good and bad spirits cruising around. Some with great medicine and others more or less like us, only without physical form. Lots of trippy stuff going on to. But it’s way cool in the sense there are colors not on our spectrum and you get a complete understanding about things also. There are no secrets. Yea just got to realize that anything is possible there. The medicine can work both ways. We still have this gift of free will and all. And basically, we are still the butt heads we were when on Earth, only dead or what ever reason we are there.
Anyway, there are kewl spirits, like ancestors and good guys and bad dudes or dorks who walk with evil. In a way, you can look at them like a Warner Brothers Cartoon with the angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. You have spirits trying to influence you all the time. Most of us just think it’s an active mind or the need for medical attention, hmmm.
Well charge me with 60,000 volts or fill me with lithium fore I’m going to blow your mind. I was a street kid so get over it. Lived on the edge and saw life from the fast lane and it’s darker side. In some way, I waltzed with death every day of my life. And for the most part, I had pulled away from my culture. Was tired of “seeing” things, hearing “voices” that gave me lectures and basically living with all that stuff I used to live with when I was young. Was just not into the Indian groove, so I thought.
Taking risks was what my life was all about at one time. I mean to tell you, I did impossible stuff, just because. My head was so full of myself, and I did not care about fear. After all, I already lived a life where other kids used to beat my head in all the time. Was already an outcast in society and I guess I was conditioned to think less of myself to a major degree. Hence the running away from my culture thing.
You got to remember, it was not always cool being Native. So what did I have to loose. If I got killed doing something, so what. I was deader than a box of rocks. In a way, I was already dead since I was mentally and emotionally isolated from society. I grew up hard and was “only a tree nigger” anyway. Maybe I had a death wish, who really knows. OK all you college kiddies, esteem issues comes to mind, I know I read that book to. And it was true, I had no self worth since I was convinced over time that I was “only” Native. Messed up huh.
So here we are, I’m living life on the streets and far from my spirit. I’m a Wise guy, doing the deal. Looking good, sporting a Rolex and a nice ride. Have respect from the “association” I was affiliate with and had a reputation on both the West Coast and the East Coast for “TCOB”, (taking care of business). I did the impossible and was still alive to tell the tale and had a wade of cash to prove it.
One time, I had to make a pick up. The usually thing, fly to Newark and pick up some cash from a delinquent “creditor”. I would get 50% of the dough-ray-me and all I could take from the person, as lesson. No big deal except for one minor detail, he had his own crew. “Ain’t nothing but a meatball” I thought. I’ll just wait him out and find him alone. Then we could possibly enter into conversation over a business matter.
I waited, and waited and waited. He was always surrounded by his crew and most likely his bodyguards. After a week of hanging out in Jersey I was done, I was totally done. I counted the men coming in and out of their club house and decided to go in after him when there was the least about of guys there. Hey, it was a long shot.
Got up the steam and a game plan, checked my guns and off I went. Walked in the front door and made my way towards the counter. Couple guys greeted me and possibly recognized me as well. But there was no problem. Then when my eyes got adjusted to the light. I saw my target. And yes, he was surrounded by his boys. But I think he already knew why I was there because he made his way to where I was sitting. Kewl.
He began the conversation so all I did was follow his lead. I told him I needed to discuss this matter in a more personal setting. He told his bodyguards to back away from the table as we talked. But they did no go to far and were hovering around like flies.
As we talked about his current financial situation. He told me I was committing suicide coming to his part of the world. We both began to laugh and I pondered his vialed threat. I knew I was not going to come out of there alive and most likely become part of the land fill in a Jersey dump. Possibly one of the thousands of headless and limbless torsos that fill the morgues on the East Coast. What a drag, fly all the way out there, only to get whacked.
Go for the gusto eh. So while we were laughing at this joke of my possible demised, I went for it. While we was laughing, I already had my .45 in my hand under the table. Everyone was laughing, even his goons. And at that moment, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and jammed the .45 in his laughing mouth. Ba Da Bing.
His boys freaked out and as they moved towards me, I cocked the hammer back. they all froze. Mr. Wise guy was not so happy with me either and I think he was a bit distressed. He motioned his boys to back off since he knew I meant business. My life was at stake as well. and this was the only way I was going to leave there alive anyway. So what the hell.
We make our way into his office and I get the money for the debt. Granted, I should have just booked it, but I was already there and the risk was the same whether I got the cash or not. You can only be killed once anyway. I knew it was only a matter of time before one of his boys tried to be hero and pop a cap my direction. So I made every effort to explain to everyone that I was not going to die alone. I was taking “hero” with me in any event.
Here I am, backing out the door of this club house with all these goons with all their heat pointed my way. Their boss shaking his head as if to say, no no no no!. He was afraid to die but it did not matter to me. And as if this were one of them vintage 70’s slow motion endings, everyone opened up firing. Using the boss as a shield I bolted for the door, popped a few rounds and made my escape.
Later, I was dressing for the flight back home, course I was in Baltimore and far away from Jersey. I had the money and I was none the worse for ware. So it was a close call, “I’m just good”, I thought. Then I took a look at my nice silk shirt. There were bullet holes that seemed to go through the shirt. Entrance and exit holes in several places. There was powder burns on one side as well. Someone got in close and took a few shots.
I looked and looked but no, I was OK. Not a scratch. But there was 9 guys there and surely not all of them were bad shots. Later when I got back to LA, the ole man told me that he got a call from Jersey and was told that I was hit at least 6 times they knew of. “You got your money, but we got your boy in the process”, someone said to him. Guess someone did manage to get in close and pump a few rounds into my side. But how in the hell did I manage to survive? Even the boss in Jersey was made into a spaghetti strainer. He survived, but took in 5 rounds.
The ole man and I laughed it off and did not pay any mind to it. Only years later when I had my near death experience did I learn the truth. Sure I was shot at and yes they were close enough to kill me. But, it was not my time to die. In spite of myself, I was spared death. But this is not the first time I was in a gun fight and survived. I was shot at point blank range and only suffered powder burns, point blank!
Imagine, in spite of myself, the medicine of the Creator was working overtime to make sure I lived. Since the time of my NDE I kept asking these spirits, “Are you sure you saved the right guy?”. My question was, with all the good people around. Why was I spared death in light of the path I chose to walk? By the way, the NDE of mine was the third attempt by my ancestors to get my attention in life. The other two, I blew off. I’ll tell you about it sometime eh. Can you picture me in a Robert DeNiro posture, looking over at these spirits and saying, “Are you talking to me, are you talking to me”?
Did you see Monty Python’s, “Life of Brian”? Well, there is this scene where this guy, Brian, is standing near the Biblical Burning Bush. He can hear God speaking. Little does Brian know but God is speaking to Moses. Only Brian dos not see Moses and thinks God is actually talking to him. I feel like Brian lots of times eh.
I always figured all this miracle stuff was for them goodies two shoes people. Them saintly ones who do the good stuff all the time. But a goon like me, naw. I never feared death, fact is, I almost welcomed it. Yeah Yeah Yeah, that self worth thing, get over it.
OK, this NDE thing did change my life, completely and it got me to go back to my people. When I told my family about my experiences in life and the dark journey as well as my epiphany or NDE. Them old buzzards already knew. Fact is, they knew in great detail of my life in general. The NDE was actually my journey into the land of the Creator. And while I was there, it was as if I lived a lifetime there. More on this on another manic episode. Take it or leave it, I don’t really care.
But what got to me was how my elders put things into perspective. They told me, that in life, people live and learn many lessons. We strive to discover all the faucets of our own medicine wheel, to become complete spirits and prepare for our journey whence we’ve learned the lessons we came to Earth for. Some lessons are very stark, some are not so stark. But they are lessons none the less. For some reason, I was fortunate to have walked the far corners of my medicine wheel and learned the consequences of the many paths I chose. And I walked many.
This NDE was the most humbling experience of my life and like I said, it changed me completely. I can’t begin to tell you about my medicine since that fateful day. But it’s good and I’ve helped many people since then. The old timers say, I came full circle in life and survived. And in a way, I can understand that now. In a way, I’ve come back to being that little Injun boy who talks to tree’s, animals and all that is nature. I know the power of the Creator first hand and know miracles happen everyday. And that destiny is something determined by the Creator period.
Been there, done that eh. And I have a million stories that will wow the imagination. But my stories are all about life and the human experience. And basically they are about life and how the spirit world interfaces with us all, in spite of ourselves. I’m an open book fore I’m a Storyteller and I speak of life and the misadventures first hand. Is there any other way?
I’m no different than any other skin who walked in darkness. But I’m
living proof we all can pick ourselves up by the loin cloth and move forward once we choose to get back on the Red Road. The Creator is ALL forgiving, but we need to learn to forgive ourselves. And society needs to get a grip and learn to forgive and quite labeling people by their past.
Once you learn the realities of the spirit world, the Creator and life on Earth in general…………………………..
“It’s ain’t nothing but a meatball Paisan”………………………Capice?
Ba Da Bing, Ba Da Boom, Ba Da Bang