flying3

After meeting with the old man, I came to the conclusion that indeed he and his brother had witnessed a very unusual demonstration that long-ago New Mexican night. I use the word �demonstration� because it was clear to me that volition � very precise volition � �powered� those luminous globes, and that in the same way the two teenagers were meant to witness an astonishing display of the mysterioso, I was meant some eighty years later also to bear witness to the event, and to search its teleological detritus like knucklebones tossed in the desert dust.

Before I left I told the old man that there was no need for fear or apprehension concerning his experience, and that I had good reason to accept every word of it. I told him he wasn�t crazy and that there was a perfectly good explanation for his experience -- slow folks like myself just hadn�t finished the puzzle yet.

Before leaving for his trailer I had downloaded some anthropological, archaeological, and mythological data from the Internet, which I presented to him, to ease his mind. I also told him that he could have spent another eighty years looking for someone who would understand his story, and that we both were very lucky people. I told him that in some way that I could not yet verbalize, he and his brother were blessed that night.

Now you can drink the morning news, friends, and pan-fry the teevee, but there is no escape from the cosmological temblors we�re in for. Data points will not lead you from the labyrinth. We are coming to the collective pass where disruptions of consensus reality not only must be endured, but also comprehended, embraced, and on occasion -- if warranted --revered, much as I hate the thought. The universe is just chock-a-full of truly pate-scratchin� shit, and the less of it we can manage to deny, the faster we�ll grow.

Seen from the perspective of sixty thousand years or so of human psycho-social development, especially in the esoteric aboriginal traditions of the New World, brown women piloting flying fireballs not only can be cogitated without meltdown, but assimilated provisionally.

Let�s pretend that there is a very old Project involving the release of the scintillae, the sparks of light and spirit, from their imprisonment in matter. Let�s pretend that the goal of this project is to unite the opposites through the medium of human women and men, with matter grounding spirit into creation and spirit elevating matter to sacredness, until a balance in achieved, an eternal Now vibrating between the poles. Let�s pretend that men and women in certain enlightened communities, within certain ancient cultures, are capable of transcending their nasty will-to-power games, and of falling forward in love with each other again. Let�s pretend matter is rising like a great wedding cake, until earth and heaven share the same time and place.

At this very moment, if you penetrate the innards of aboriginal shamanism in Mexico � a practice that is thriving, having gained -- rather than lost -- power from assimilations of Catholicism � you might be surprised to find that women, not men, are the most potent and profound practitioners of those occult traditions. Men, of course, are the titular heads of orthodox religion, as priests of the Catholic Church. And little Carlitos told us all about his male brujo, Don Juan Matus. But women are the shamanic leaders of the hidden church south of the border, especially in the mountain enclaves of central Mexico. We�re not talking New Age Psychotic Network here, either � these are vital practitioners, and dead-serious practice. The Real Deal. You offer these folks pesos, and they just laugh and do a little dance around you. Then your insides start to vibrate.

Authentic Toltecan shamanism is female-dominated, and indeed ancient Mesoamerican civilizations, including the high cultures, were typically matriarchal, relying on foundations of blood-sacrifice and related earth-magic rituals, in combination with emerging �masculine� sky-magic of astronomical observance and exploration of the Upper Houses.