Jalisco, they want to talk to me. (a story)

Jalisco, they want to talk to me. (a story)

I have been on the road longer than i can remember, sounds like a cliche, but its the truth, memories are surfacing slowly, like they have been tucked away deep in my memory. I have read about that in a book (dreamyoga, the practice of clearlight) written by a buddhist monk, some teachings or occurrences are stored on a deeper level and can only be reveiled or understood when one has reached a certain level of understanding. My understanding is that everything moves, nothing is certain, especially in the human world. 

Accidents happen and then twenty years later i come to understand what accident happened to me and there was no one willing to help me in the world around me. i found others, i practised tensegrity with them and then nothing. The thing called life took me and i went nowhere. Then i jumped in the waters again, the one thing that made me happy, finding all doors closed, no one willing to help me. So i studied by myself, made the trips on my own and got the answers, it took alot out of me, cost me a lot, attracted a lot of the bad kind of people. It changed me, made stronger, gave me even more trouble but i could bare it.

Sometime in that darkplace, i started to light that place with healing energies, it did half the job, i suddenly reached the ones i needed to speak to. A wooden shack, a group of kids my age and an old guy and i felt at home for once. Not the oppresive thoughts and negativity i knew from back home. people that listened to me, chose to listen to me. I had been looking for people like them for a long time, but most do not like the whites and yankees coming for the knowledge and information. Because most of them were drugusers and did not have a clear mind or the right intentions. There i was, totally wasted because of the trip i made and i was welcomed in to the world i was looking for to get the right information. 

While feeding the goat and chickens the old man listened to me, nodded, he said that my mindset was the mindset of all toltec and that the whites got lost in the Castaneda story, only that story is not the truth. I told him i had experienced that myself and told him what i saw, he agreed with my ideas. He explained to me there were many kinds of toltec with different kind of stories, the only thing that mattered was the stalking and keeping a clear mind, nothing else mattered, the rest was only intent, the right use of the mind. When he said those words he looked me straight in the eyes and said,’You have all these things already and as far as i can see you have taught them to yourself’. I was surprised to hear these words and told him about the first happening, he nodded, yes, he said that happened, it was a mistake made by someone in training to be a nahual. 

I revisited the first happening many times, trying to capture the faces, the place but i could only remember one face, the face of the old indian man with the long hair, his face brown full of lines and how friendly he was. I remember one female and someone who was very angry, there were other persons too, but i could not remember their faces. I remembered the yellow mist where they were and the sand i was sitting in when i saw them. One moment i was redaing in a windowsill and the next i was sitting in desert sand and saw people walking in yellow mist.

An end.