My ancestors came to me three times before I finally paid attention. The first two encounters were simply confrontational since I was still very bitter with life and the journey I was on. Things did not seem to matter since I considered myself dead to all society. My arrogant s or ego painted a picture of inviability. I had forgotten to chose to ignore my reality and my culture. The world was hell bent on material consequence and power. When in Roma do as the Roman’s do.
The allure of power and loyalty was overwhelming for a once beaten down Native boy. The Native boy who learned at an early age that he was hated for the color of his skin. The Native boy who watched as men would try to treat his mom as if she were a sex object or less than other women according to society. The once innocent boy who used to love all there was in life. The boy who forever knew the feel of warm spital on his face, the memory that was forever etched in his psyche. The boy who bore the scars of a boxer before I was 9 years old, beaten almost every day of his life for 7 horrific years.
A million unanswered questions haunted me in life. But it all did not matter at this juncture. Driving across the desert in a Town Car, trunk filled with antiques and collectibles and a pocket full of cash, life seemed good. Everything seemed perfect, or was it. Always hitting the bottle of Crown Royal, maybe to silence the voices who tormented me or simply to ease the pain of like.
Then they came. At first, all I heard was a voice and the words were quite haunting, “There’s the boy who’s going to die”. I laughed to myself, “Yea sure, you can’t mess with Superman’s cape”. But the voice got louder, “THERE’S THE BOY WHO IS GOING TO DIE”. But this time, the voice seemed to echo deep within my soul. The voice echoed in the car as well. With anger I began to curse the voice. But it only got louder. So I turned the radio up, but to no avail, the voice drowned the radio.
As I sped down the highway, I began to notice3 phantoms from my side vision. I ignored them as best as I could. But then, the voice was joined by another. Before long, there were three distinct voices, scolding me and saying I was going to die. Then I looked out the window and saw an old man. He was dressed in a red and white checkered western shirt, beaded ball cap and weathered khaki pants. His face was weathered by time and his eye’s were very piercing and he studied me.
At that moment, it did not occur to me that he was outside the car. The reality of his presents overshadowed this reality. I knew he was there, there was no question. And I had two guests in the car. They both looked at me with equal pall.
As if on cue, I began to feel a shortness of breath. I was beginning to breath as if my lungs were tightening. My breaths began to get very labored and I tried in vane to breath. Each breath became a gasp and I struggled. Then I decided to pull off the main road. I looked around me when I stopped the car, all the while struggling to breath. The men just looked on. My heart was racing as the oxygen levels began to lower. I knew I finally found my goal, death was approaching. But to die like this?
I grabbed an old blanket I had in the trunk and made a bed alongside the car and laid down. My feet began to tingle as if they were falling asleep. I grabbed my wallet and pulled out the pictures of my young family and relations. And for the first time since I was 14, I prayed. It was an awkward prayer since I had forgotten how. So I talked to the Creator and only asked him to watch over my family when I go. I knew where I had been and knew my fate. But I excepted it since I could not lie to myself. I only cared for the people who I was going to leave behind.
The tingling began to move down my legs. I laid back with the pictures and my ID next to my head since I was becoming weaker as the tingling got stronger. My hands began to tingle now. As I looked around, I noticed a fog in the distance. It was an odd fog since it was all around me but quite far. It seemed like a mile or so. the tingling creped closer and closer as my breathing got harder and harder. My extremities were cold now as the tingling entered my torso. I felt like my lungs were going to burst as I labored to breath. Then just when I was about to scream in pain. The laboring stopped.
I found myself standing next to my car. “Hmmm, did I just imagine this?”, I thought to myself. Then I heard the voices, “No Carlos, this is real, your dead”. Then I turned around and saw the three old Native men. They just looked at me. I turned back to my car and there I was, splayed out on a blanket, my hand clutching the photos. “Wow, so this is death eh”, I thought.
So I walked up to these three men and they began to scold me. “We tried to talk to you while your were alive, but you would not listen. We tried in vane to get your attention but you would not heed our warnings. They went on about personal things and I was obliged to listen. I remembered the many instances they spoke of. All the opportunities to change my path. All the close brushes with death and ego filled endeavors I ventured. I did not have a snappy quick written retort.
Knowing I was not among the living, I asked them if they could possibly put me back in my body since I now realized the err of my ways. They informed me that they did not have this kind of medicine. Sorrow began to fill my thoughts as I pondered what my true fate would be. But I knew I was no cherry and knew my destiny would not be so spiffy. My mind filled with stories of death from the many dogma’s I researched in my life. I thought that I was going to fry like an egg if there was a hell. So I finally made the big time eh.
While we stood and looked at one another in this awkward moment. I noticed a glow from behind me. I lite up the night and shined on the faces of the old men, who I learned were my ancestors. I was somewhat frightened because of the look of surprise on their faces. My mind reeled with thoughts and uncertainty. Then I slowly turned around and noticed this big man. He was at least 9 feet tall. Dressed in some kind of flowing robe, white and saffron I believe. Had long hair sort of sandy brown and clean shaven.
I looked to my ancestors but I could not find an answer in their faces, only surprise. And this made me very concerned indeed. I mustered up the courage, turned and walked up to thing big dude. I was fearful for the first time in my life as I approached him, but I was not one to back out of anything. I walked up to him and said, “Well who are you?”, after all I did want to know.
This big guy looked at me with a faint smile and said, “My name is Micheal”. At that time, I turned to my ancestors and said, “Well at least he did not say he was Satan”, with a semi jocular demeanor. My ancestors seemed to roll their eye’s as if to say “Gawd, what a bonehead”. But there were no words, they only gave me this impression. But dang, I was kind of happy he did not say he was the Devil anyway.
This Micheal guy extended his hand and I knew I had to reach for it. The moment I touched his hand, poof, I was out of there. It’s hard to describe how we flew or traveled. It was more as if everything around us was moving. Then I noticed a light of some kind. It was a beautiful blue green light, like sage on a full moon, but very brilliant with an intensity that drew me to it like a moth.
With the urgency of a child running to his ma ma, I went to the light. I was so drawn to it, I felt desperate to get close to this. Somehow, I know I belonged with this light. But as I approached this beautiful light, I began to have thoughts of my life on Earth. I began to remember everything. My thoughts went to all my actions in the past, everything. It was as if I was watching a video, but I watched this from the distinct perspectives. From my original POV, to the POV of an observer and that of the people I encountered. I was my own judge, jury and hangman. I could not lie about my actions. It was there in Technicolor.
Then I stopped my pursuit of this light since I now felt dirty and did not want to soil something so beautiful. I cried and felt so ashamed and knew I was not worthy of being in the presents of this light. But then I came aware of many things, like a major download of some kind. It was as if complete understanding came to me, not like Earth where we have to read or listen. It was like I came to know something in complete detail, like a came to remember.
The light is the Creator, a complete being and all about love and forgiveness. The Creator is not bound by Earthly consequences such as gender or race. The Creator is a being of pure wisdom, strength and beauty. The image so many dogma’s purport mankind is molded after is not the physical form, but that spark of life that comes from that light which is the Creator. All that lives in the universe has the spark of life that is of the Creator. Like the old timers always said, we are all related, everything with life is our relations. It was so clear to me.
My trance was broken when this Micheal guy told me that I was not going there, but to remember this time and place. And believe me, I will never forget what I saw and experienced there. He grabbed my hand and my journey continued. But I still wondered, “Where am I going?”