Transcription
Around the Cosmic Campfire by Tony Wright
Chapter 23: Carlos and Maria
I have always been interested in archaeological and historical artifacts, as an adult and, in fact, since I was very young. Anything of Native American heritage was of particular interest. When I was a young girl, my cousin and I would prance around inside the large weeping willow tree, which hung down to the ground in my backyard. It felt like a pony ring. I always felt like an American Indian back then. It was a time everyone referred to as cowboys and Indians, and many morning television shows were about them. I guess now I should say Native American.
As an adult, I was interested in many indigenous people around the world. I had seen many documentaries about crystal skulls in South America and wondered what they were really about. How do the ancient tribes make them? How did they get here, if they came from beyond, for instance? How could they have been carved by ancient tools when we can hardly create them with the modern tools that we have today? There are not many authentic crystal skulls in existence today, but they are fascinating. In 1996, I was privileged to hear a talk on the skulls in Wagoner, South Dakota, at the Hopi Star Knowledge Conference. I had, since then, always wanted to see one, hold one in my hand, and feel it. I'd always learned that crystal itself is a great energy generator, and I thought it would be fun to experience energy in that more mysterious form.
I did not spend much time after the dwelling on skulls; it was just a silent passion of mine. I watched any documentaries on them and that happened along the way; kept in touch with the research about them. It was just fascinating.
On September 11, 2001, we all know what happened to our country, to our beloved New York City. I remember seeing the event on television as my massage client, Hank, awakened me in the morning with a phone call, begging me to turn on the news and see what had just happened. His voice was odd. I discovered why. I was mortified, and I was frightened. I felt the way I did as a young girl when I thought the Russians were going to attack us during the Cuban Missile Crisis. I am an authentic and bonafide scaredy-cat when it comes to violence, and I usually curl up in a ball and hope someone will come and keep me safe. To say the least, I always had a problem with the boogeyman when I was a girl, and I couldn't even hang my feet over the side of my bed at night. Imagine watching the Twin Towers fall down in a matter of seconds.
My client, Hank, was also my dear friend, and knowing I was freaked out, had gotten in his car and was speeding out to the retreat to sit with me in the woods. Our mutual friend, Mary, drove out too to be with us. Both together, we three processed what had happened, but mostly just sat in a shared stupor. I was very grateful not to be sitting out in the woods alone, watching the Twin Towers fall down over and over again, a thousand times it seemed, in replays right before my eyes. I was living a nightmare. For me, all the way over here in Nashville, I couldn't even imagine what it would be like to be there in the middle of the drama, the dust, the craziness, madness, and uncertainty. My heart just kept leaping out to them and to us all. I didn't know what to do.
At the end of the day, they both left, and I sat alone hoping for something to help me through what I was feeling. I feel everything very deeply; that is what makes me a sensitive empath professionally, and I feel so much that I have to be careful not to let it consume me. I used to take in too much pain from others, so I don't practice that form of healing anymore, and I've learned to work differently with the angel energies. I wanted something to bring me assurance energetically that we were all going to be all right, and to just breathe into the reality of it all, breathe into the drama, let it go, say blessings, say prayers, ask God not to forsake us, but be with us. How can I just be with this horrendous human experience? How do I just make it through the night, or the next day, or the next week, and through whatever transition was happening to us all?
The next day, I awoke and immediately revisited the feelings of the day before. I knew it would take a very long time to move through this. It was fresh and new; information was coming at us continually, and leaving the television was again difficult. I somehow wanted to know everything; I wanted answers; I wanted solutions. I didn't know what I wanted; I just wanted something. I needed some divine reassurance as I watched the replays again and again. I had been up a few hours when I got a phone call from someone in my village, Leeper's 4. They said there were some folks in Franklin, my nearby community, who were needing to find someone to be with for the afternoon and perhaps for the night. Could they come out to the retreat? They had been stranded as the flights were grounded and were not sure what to do. It was a bit random and obtuse, but I said, "Well, yes," and suggested they themselves call for directions on the phone. I had no idea who it was or why they called me. I just went with it. Perhaps I didn't want to be alone, and any company at all, even strangers, would be welcome.
Once they got me on their cell phone for directions, I realized we were having a language barrier, but we worked through the directions to the retreat. They were on their way. What was I doing? I don't even speak Spanish. It took five years of Spanish as a girl, but I couldn't remember a stitch of it anymore after having not used it. I could say hello, what is your name, and pass the salt. What was I doing? I had no idea. To complicate things, I suddenly realized I had almost no food in the house, as I intended to go shopping the day before; however, the earth came apart at the seams and I didn't go anywhere instead. But no matter, as they would come, and that was that. They were on their way. I would go with the flow. I was accustomed to people coming to the house all the time for professional bodywork, utilizing my massage therapy skills, so having guests was quite usual for me. But it was September 12th. It was September 12th. There was nothing but a fog. They were in an older, quite worn, compact sedan, red, and it was a car they had borrowed from someone in town. It was Carlos and his wife, Maria, and their grown daughter and her boyfriend.
Carlos was a kindly man in his fifties, white-haired, a bit stalky with an almost hefty belly and a hefty smile. Maria was almost as short as I am, black hair and eyes, and had a kindly face that you just wanted to know. Carlos and Maria were energy healers and hands-on body workers in Mexico and had a healing retreat there. Right away, as they came to me and hugged me hello, I fell in love with them. They had come to town on vacation, and their daughter and boyfriend had flown in the morning before, all meeting here, and they could not leave; no flights were allowed in the air, and they were stranded. They did not know anyone at all. I realized then that someone thought of me when they learned Carlos and Maria were body workers and that perhaps it might be a good fit to send them to me, as we would at least have something in common.
We five sat and talked, despite some of our barriers, but they did actually quite well with English. As we talked and shared our horror of what had happened the day before, it was like our hearts were all blasted wide open. There were no barriers, no countries, just people trying to sort through a tragedy none of us had seen before. I put a pot of rice on to cook and counted on the old backup fried rice when groceries were scarce in the house. I could make a huge part of it with only carrots, eggs, peas, one onion, and soy sauce. I may have been privileged to have chicken breast, bound if nothing else; it smelled delicious; it smelled wholesome; it smelled like life. We wanted to be involved in life. There is a newfound value to life since yesterday. Ultimately, we thanked God for fried rice as we started to compare our healing practitioner information and skills. Maria stated she felt she really knew me and had known me for a very long time, as she said, in some other life, perhaps. I felt like she was a sister of Source, too, and just wanted to fall into both their arms and welcomed them home, to welcome them back to our inexplicable friendship. I didn't know how; I had no proof there were other lifetimes, but they certainly felt familiar.
Often we talked about everything we do and had learned, and I shared the Hopi Star Knowledge Conference with them as they opened that part of the discussion with others from the stars and other beings. I talked about the speaker who presented the crystal skull segment of the conference. As I went to check the rice, Carlos left for the car. When he came back into the house moments later, he was carrying a bowling bag. I thought it was an odd thing to carry on the road, but as he opened it, he took out their own crystal skull. I remember I almost fell down. How could this be? Oh yes, manifesting! I remember, and I smiled. He had me sit down at the foot of the stool in the living room, and he gently placed her, as they had named her, Octogonia, into my laps and into my hands. My heart was racing and racing. I felt her, and I just sat almost speechless, just holding her in my hands. Carlos had me place my fingertips from both of my hands on her temples and back around the back of her skull and just let them rest there. In a few minutes, I looked and I saw that there were color lights coming out from where each finger was touching her. I was overwhelmed and excited. I had lights going into my fingers. He took some photographs of this event, which I was privileged to have at one point, but I'm not sure where they are today. Perhaps no one was supposed to see this but us. I don't know.
We took Octogonia downstairs to my massage room and placed her on the massage table next to my very large crystal point, which is about the size of a small wrist, elbow, forearm. They said Octogonia will give my stone some electrical charge, and so we let them sit there together, some strange friendship, for the rest of the day. When I look at the crystal point now, I smile and think of my friends from Mexico. I believe that Octogonia still resides a bit in there. We had a beautiful dinner that was totally adequate, wonderful, and plentiful, despite it seeming earlier that there was no food in my kitchen. It ended up being just perfect manna, and we shared a lifetime of information together that night. They left to go back to the city to stay; I did not have room for them all at my house, and they had gotten other accommodations lined up throughout the day. Oddly, that was the first and the last time I saw Carlos and Maria. I assumed that they went back to Mexico when they were able to fly, and we vowed to reconnect there at their healing center, as they promised to take me to the real ruins of the Mayans and not the tourist sites. I have not been able to make it down to them, but I have thought of them so fondly, wishing them well, loving them from afar. I have thought of them so fondly, whoever they were and for whatever reason they came to me, out of the blue, to my woods in the middle of nowhere, in a time of historical national tragedy, to manifest my desire to hold a crystal skull from some years ago.
I do believe, as well, I received some healing and loving currents that day that helped me calm down into myself and find my quiet center. Scientists even speak now about the undeniable power held within quartz crystal and is often used in physical healings all over the world. I will attest I was changed somehow; I was lit up. I felt every soul who was taken on 9/11 in the event would be all right, and everyone who had died would be finding their place as souls, and that we would get through this event in time. I felt that through the divine, all would heal in time; at least it was my prayer for everyone. Thank you, Carlos and Maria, for sharing yourself with me, however odd it was that you found me. I am grateful. I certainly had my antenna up, and you did too, both receiving and transmitting to make this meeting happen, with everyone involved listening to God's station. I'm grateful for everything and the reminder that all we lovingly desire we can manifest. For me, on that day, I manifested an unexpected loving kindness. Years later, I still send my love to you, dear ones, Carlos and Maria. And then there's a Spanish [word] which I cannot pronounce at the end of this chapter. I will do my best.