Why am I still here?

I generally ask myself when weaving in and out of Indian traffic dripping with consistent layers of sweat, dirt and exhaust. I thought Id be back in Spain for the Feria in Sevilla en este momento pero estoy todavia aqui en India.

Its my first Goan rain in this very moment. Its thundering and Im absolutely delighted to tears. The electricity is down, which is often; but the music is still playing and the coffee is good and my breakfast is on the gas stove. This moment gives me the perfect mood to write.

Why am I still here in India? It has not been easy. I am drawn to raw, rural pueblo life. Something about a developing piece of the world that leaves me feeling as though I can "overcome". Rural isnt necessarily easier however; the land requires a different kind of strength from your body and yet I find it calms my nervous system as opposed to conveniences of the city the wreaks havoc unto my heart.

Goa was never part of the plan. A woman told me about Palolem at my school in Granada. I couldnt afford that area so I did what I normally do to guide me. Find an affordable place that makes me heart happy that I can call home for a little bit. So I landed in Anjuna. My apartment has lots of plants, a pool and reminds me of my old home in LA. Its one of the reasons Im still here. The first few weeks during my vocal workshops in Udaipur and Pune I lost my voice due to the air pollution. I had a quarrel with my dear teacher and the energy of India really spun the fear out of my nervous system. It was a spiritual force field to get through all while coughing my lungs out and holding the notes silently in my head. I left Pune early because I thought Goa would be ~cleaner. It is not; which is partly why Im so delighted for this rain right now. There were plentiful moments where my fear said, “Leave now. Fuck this shit. Go back to LA or anywhere else but here.” I had 3 recurring dreams that I went back to LA, unpacked all my precious material objects that I love so much, found a new home and was settled on my couch to only have the inner dialogue of “What did you do? Why did you go back early to Los Angeles. You let the fear win. It will be near exhaustingly impossible to jump ship again like that.” Thats prolly another reason why Im still here. Side note: Ive also had recurring dreams similar to the ones I had when I was living in the half abandoned hotel off the 101 in Willits, California. A remembrance that I forgot someone that I connected with. A place in time. A lost connection. Then Id struggle to remember who, where and how. Then Id wake up trying to pull the strings of remembrance … peculiar.

I wanted to explore Spain and Portugal because it is apart of my bloodline. I wanted to study Flamenco, work on my Spanish and come to peace with the Oppressor side of my DNA. After 3mths and 20 different beds I needed to land somewhere to ground myself. I landed in Goa, unknowingly where the Portuguese had conquered and spread the Catholic word. Coincidentally there is also a strong similarity to Goan and Latino culture. Howeva, I still stand, based off my experiences that south of the American border the humanity has an innate sense of humbleness. A warmth that hugs and greets you throughout the day. “Buenos dias. Buenos tardes. Buenas noches.” Despite the love and kismet reflections that I have received here in India for the most part its been a cold shoulder. Unfriendly. Many times the thought of “I could just be safe in Mexico right now,“ but I am not. Im in India its requesting that I birth a new sense of courage. Feeling as though Im learning to travel alone for the first time during the worst time of the year. Its hot and its going to get hotter. It took about a week and a half to realize an effort had to be put forth to learn how to survive the summer. It knocked me down a few times. I definitely cannot ride in the afternoon for longer than 30min. Learned that lesson one very hot Friday afternoon in traffic to go to the mall. I nearly passed out when I got there. Its not the first time Ive experienced falling onto a land with an energetic pull during the worst time of the year. 2021, broken ankle, stuck in the Emerald Triangle of Humboldt, CA during fire season. That was a fucking Fever Dream. I and others also feel that since Im gonna stick it out (unless the call of my gut tells me otherwise) that I should see the gift of the Monsoon season. I’ve been told that the rains also afford the opportunity to sit and get work done.

Driving in India is FUCKING WILLLD. Locals and myself all agree I should receive a certificate for learning to brave the skillset of navigating on a scooter in India. “Left side of the road. Left side of the road.” My house keeper and the security guards definitely were on the fence of whether or not Id figure it out. I took the scooter out once a week for a few months and everytime it scared the fucking shit out of me. Especially because I have a history of injury, leaving myself immobile, alone and in a difficult land to get around. Then one day, I was so pissed off at the encounters I had come across that I took my anger out on the streets and there it was, my confident LA defensive driving skills came through. Its still fucking dangerous and I did get into a minor accident exiting the highway because a car came to a hault (did not inform my parents). I was able to calm his Hindi down which generally starts at volume (scale 1-10) 8.5 and ended up giving him 1000 rupees ($10) for the damage even though it was his fault. There are cows, dogs, humans, bikes, potholes, scooters, high speed buses with their melodic horn at volume level BLARING beeping at you to move. So now Im like beep beep, “no you fucking move.” The area Im in has no stop signs or lights but in a way its kinda my style. In LA I rather bend the rules. Here, theres no rules- not really. Anytime I pass a cop I just avert my eyes or if they wave at me to pull over I just keep going. I do not have international license but you cant really get around without a ride and walking is far more dangerous. I overcame a huge fucking feat and now I can finally breathe. I can explore and when I have a tough day I can go for a cruise while listening to tunes. So, I guess thats one of the reasons Im still here. I can finally get around, figure the way of life and the night rides... are magnificent.

The music. When I had my Astrology Birthday reading my lady told me that my future has the complete opposite possibilities if I had been in LA. I had more of a chance to get tings done. That is another reason why I am here. I found a spot to open mic it up. To wiggle out my nerves to finally get to a place where I can be in my body and have control over my voice. The first night I did my spoken song word piece on Intimacy. It was rather quiet when I was done. I lit my joint as I had planned and supported the rest that performed. I grabbed a drink before I left and thats when folks came up to me one by one to say how they were moved to a place they didnt expect. The silence was them sitting in feeling and that is exactly what my intention is. I remember the lesson of Naad Yoga and Raga. How the silence is revered and to just stand in its stillness if it presents itself. I made a sweet friend and after our second open mic she said the songs make her feel overwhelmed if she fought against it but found beauty in surrendering and found that made her feel taken care of. Reflections like this is another reason I am still here. I also found a studio to learn Ableton. I feel after 3yrs of changing course it is now go time. God be with me... bc most of the time I still feel so alone.

Two last notes.
A meme I saw: “Listen to your intuition like its paying your bills.”

Its mango season now and I think thats another reason why I am still here.

by Rafa Cardenas

Many times have passed now. Im in India and its looking like Ill stay here a few more months even though its been wildly rough around the edges.

There was a piece I wanted to write thought about back in August. It was about being a First Responder, but before I get there:

I had a dream last night of animals trapped in a basement and I was trying to get people to help and call 911 to no avail. I thought I had lost them. Then I went down the stairs and although they were almost submerged in water they were still alive. I thought yes I still have time but I have to move -now and I went to unlock the gate... in this very moment while rereading to edit this story as I ...I understand now...crying...I still have time but I have to move now.

In May 2023, I was in a Sunday workshop online about Confrontation. I finally emerged from my apartment around 3pm to throw away the trash and saw a large black cat curled up by the window where my desk was at. It had passed. I hollered at my neighbor and he came out and did the honor of picking up the little soul and disposing. He and I had never seen this black cat in our neighborhood. In fact the only black cat I ever saw in the 12 years I lived in my home was lil Zapata. There was no blood. This spirit wondered to find a safe corner to pass on and chose mine. On the opposite side of where I had been sitting all day. Curled up essentially by my feet. This kitty passed but at least it was seen and known its final moments. I placed rose petals where they laid. I felt a small spirit protecting and accompanying me into a lil death rebirth procession.

In July 2023, at a vocal retreat, I walked into a kitchen to do a volunteer shift that a "friend" had passed on to me (w/o asking but whatever). I was a bit late because I was waiting on this broad to get ready. I had driven and as soon as we arrived my friend immediately walked off w/o waiting. I saw her pop her head in the kitchen and walk away hastly and head to class. I walked into the kitchen and saw an elder on the ground howling in physical, mental and spiritual pain. The energy in the room was chaotic and heavy. I ran to her and helped guide her back to a sense of safety. Friend popped her head in sometime after and I saw her. Told her to come back- open the windows, turn down the music and get a glass of water. Another dear woman entered and felt immediatley what was going on and helped hold space. This was not the first time I intuitively guided someone out of a darkness or into a more clarified light with the somatics of my presence.

2 weeks later I was sitting in the waiting room for a callback. I was on deck but we were waiting for an actor who was to be in the room with me. I heard a sound -a human sound but in agony. I made eyes with the actress across from me "somethings not right". We heard it again and bolted down the hallways to find the voice. An elderly black man was slumped along the wall clasping his heart. I wrapped my arm around him and told the girl to run back and call 911 immediately. He looked into my eyes and told me he was dying. “Im dying. Im dying,“ he said. He had had a heart attack and his pacemaker was malfunctioning and continued to shock him about 5 or 6 times. He hugged me tightly -so tight that I felt uncomfortable. I know now he was holding onto to me so as not to leave this Earth. I grabbed his palm and held his gaze. We were alone together for perhaps a long 5min. Some fucking Casting associates and the girl came back and asked if we were sure we needed the ambulance since he looked fine now. I said yes they needed to have been called 5min ago. One of them wanted to make jokes about how maybe he is too old now to act and should maybe retire -the fuck? It didnt even cross their fucking mind that he might be trying to get a job to eat. To pay for a living. He was bewildered -his heart was electrocuted about 5/6 times and just saw his death. Emergency came. They drilled questions and asked him to get up. I helped him up and told them to slow down and let him breathe for a moment. We let go of our hands and I gave him a hug goodbye. I went back into the room for my callback. Was put onhold and released from the avail.

When I was 21yrs old my family went on a summer trip to Alaska. One of our greatest trips together. We were parked outside a 711 and my Dad was inside. A houseless man came to my moms side of the car and asked her for money. She didnt have any and he threw a handful of pennies at her. From the back, without thought I leaped out of the car and my scrawny arms went after him. My entire family was quite upset at me afterwards because shit could have gone really fucking awry but there was no thought process in the in-between. It was my autonomic reaction.

When I was 23~

When I was 24yrs old I went on my first long distance sola adventure to study Spanish and take Tango lessons in Argentina. I was on a bus and the elderly man across the way from me had a seizure. The bus pulled over and all but 4 of us stayed to help and keep him company till the ambulance came. Still frames of witnessing the expressions of the humans as they ran out are imprinted in my memory. Another elderly man walked by with fright in his eyes; it could have been him. This was my first understanding of the mass first reaction to -run.

When I was 10yrs old my family had just moved back to El Paso, TX from a small stint in Albuquerque, NM. This time we were on the otherside of town. This new school is where I first learned I wasnt Mexican enough. I couldn't speak Spanish. This period in my life was also when I started to receive the messaging that I was a problem. Difficult to love. On the playground a boy was teasing me and kept pulling at my skirt. He wouldn't stop until a took the cord from the collar of jacket and ...kinda of choked him. I got detention.

When I was 32yrs old I had a neighbor who perhaps was on coke or crystal. A drug that can flip the dark in and/or suffered from a mental health issue. He would curse and threathen me through my walls. It went on for 6mths. The cops never helped. In fact while I was sleeping he would call them on me. One Friday night at 10pm I played some music on my computer to take a study break. He yelled and banged on the wall seperating us. He flipped my switch. I was no longer going to allow this man make me feel like a victim in my home. I got my machete by the door and banged on hs metal screen door. He opened it and with my machete raised I told him that if he wanted to threaten me that he do it to my face. He finally opened the door and got in my face. So I got in his and pushed him. He then yelled that he was going to call the cops on me. They came. They asked if I threatned him with a stick.
I said, "look around for the stick." They said, "there are nicks in the metal screen door." I said, "ma'am this is a 1940s apartment complex." She asked, "do you feel threatned in your home?" "Yes," I said. "If you really felt threatened you wouldnt have approched him at his door," she said. "Ma'am I have called you many times to come protect me and you all never once made me feel heard or safe. In fact, I feel threatned by you. I will not live my life afraid and walk on eggshells in my own home. The only one who is going to show up and protect me- is me." He moved out a few weeks later.

There are hands’ful of more stories but these I felt called to share.

I am a confrontational woman. A disrupter, rabble rouser ~because I in my core am a protector, defender and first responder; whether I want to be or not. I have found my greatest power is not necessarily the articulate resonance of my Voice but my ability to express vulnerability; which has enabled me to be in company and sit with the uncomfortable wretched expressions that being human has to offer.

Now is when I, with fear, practice expressing my most safely guarded parts of my vulnerability.

I dont love conflict I love love and to me~ truth is the highest form of love.

"Nací donde quiso Dios" La Tana

When I packed my car in 2021 after Zorra passed away (July 4th) I did so thinking Id be gone for a few weeks or a month at most however, Id be lying to my gut if I didnt awknowledge that there was an intutive notion that a tranformational experience was about to be had. In true GOD fashion it was EVERYTHING & ANYTHING but what I could have possibly fantasied it would be. As I have typed before, I was gone for 7mths and had journeyed through Spiritual Warfare. The enduring question of "do I belong in this world?" A part of my feels, knows, that if I put all my things into storage and jump over the Ocean on a way one ticket that... I mean, who knows- I could be back in a few weeks or... well, the unknown possiblities are palpable.

Aside from my Flamenco and Dancehall/Afrobeat classes Ive taken on Sabar. Last night, I danced for 3 1/2hrs at Millenium. Some of the other dancers pushed me to take the more advanced Afro/Hip Hop after Dancehall. God damn it was a sweaty party the whole time. Not only did I make it through with energy to spare I picked up the whole routine. Not to perfection of course but I was so proud of myself and left beaming. I think the full body marathon of Sabar helped my endurance and sharpend my movements.

One last note: Ive been really enjoying the discovery and listening to Zambra. A form of Flamenco direct from the Moors. Ugh the mystical vibes it brings.

…La Tana by the Queen of the Gypsies, Carmen Amaya was my introduction to Zambra.

A song I learned for class. Ole.

Ooo, the call is so direct. It’s time.

I figured it out. When asked what my music sounds like: Kendrick Lamar and Deya Dova.

God Lord lots of foundational changes shifting. There is a ping to pack it all up and go to Spain for awhile to dance, sing and build my new endeavor. I spoke to a Psychic for support in trusting my intuition. He said, "youll probably step completely away form acting at some point. Perhaps going back to it later in life. And dont go to India. Its not time to be at an Ashram." I was like, wow. I wasnt going to India to sit at an Ashram sir. I would go to study Raga. ... which okay yes, is like deep prayer. In fact to study Raga you essentially have to be in prayer the whole time. Devoted to the daily habits that enable the channel to be clear.
"Later in life you can go. Spain however, is the right energy for you" he said. Aside from Flamenco, my astrogeography also strikes Spain and Portugal as --- "Love, partnership and sexuality are the relevant themes of this highly explosive planetary crossing. Venus/Mars symbolise the basic polarity of female and male principles, and represent the magnetic power of attraction between two people. A longer stay here promises intensity and passion in your intimate and personal relationships.

All these endings and new beginnings that could really upend me and yet Ive never been in more peace.

Since Im not going to India I found a new teacher that I very excitied to be working with:

Mr. AV Peace Abhishek Vijay

Redemptive Self-Love

I re-listened to a Brene Brown study this morning.  On what the elements that define what trust is and how it is built.  She also gives a definition of integrity.  I felt, yah.  That’s what I thought. A gentle accompaniment of confirmation in the decisions I have made regarding relationships I have let go of.  The integrity and trust were broken with the inability to repair. 

Trust in others begins with Self Trust. 

A story of Redemptive Self Love.

 I’ve had a CD in my car since summer of 2020.  I purchased it at a Hermitage in Big Sur.  “Healing the Core Wounds of Unworthiness.”  I was there in an attempt to find my ground again.  I knew I was slipping away from the knowing of myself; which I know -quite well. While I was sitting on a bench overlooking Big Sur a woman drove up, got out of her car and said to me…

“God sent me here to deliver a message to you. He said whatever is dead in your life, a relationship with your family, partner or yourself will be Resurrected.  You just need to rest. A door will open bigger than you could have imagined. Be patient. ”

Trust. Unbeknownst to me at the time, it wasn’t healing I received it was a kind of loving send off into a dark abyss. Sounds dramatic and it was…  enduring. That experience was the prologue to the beginning of quite an epic fucking journey.

I’d say it was the end of Fall 2022 after yet another heartbreak did I step out of the bottomless hole of unworthiness.  The narrative of it. Wholly holy.

 

Recently while in traffic I thought to put the CD on again and started listen.  This time from a different place. 

A few weeks ago, in therapy I had a session that was ~a profound experience.  

I didn’t have much to address in relation to the sads so I was sharing all the life changes that were going on. The fear that tries to creep in and my new mind set that trusts it away.  How the skills I’ve been nurturing over the years are finally showing themselves to me.  My dance and my song.  How Mariachi music has enabled me to begin to tie Raga, Flamenco, my songs and my performance all together.  To play. To then have the skill set to approach my own music without internalizing it to the point where it is so so difficult to share. To emote with play and power.

My therapist guided me to identifying that feeling.  “Im proud of myself and I feel it right here.  In my solar plexus.”  Even if my voice or my dance isn’t what I know it can be- it will be, soon.  We processed that for a moment and then she said we so often process the trauma, the negative belief patterns that we don’t often process the positive moments.  I said, “In the case lets do it again.” And that was the entrance to a deep healing release.  A whole-body cry, not of saddness but of aliveness. A waterfall of love. Of redemption.  All that I have gone through to be the woman I am today. 

I wrote a declaration early last year that I would read every morning after I secured or made the daily offerings to connect with God.  I wrote words that were not true but that I wanted to read aloud until they were.  There are/were a few lines that would consistently break my heart because of how far they were from living in my body.

1. I am grateful for everyday that I get to open my eyes. 

That one hasn’t settled yet, however;

2. I, with grace have let go of the past.  I understand that what hurts me has nothing to do with me.  It didn’t happen to me it happened for me and for that I am grateful. 

That one, has now been embodied.  I cried with deep gratitude for all that has pained me.  All that has hurt me because it has made me the woman I am today.  And I am so proud of who I am.  I trust myself and no one can shake that away from me.

Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.  For teaching me.  For showing me who I am. All of it.

I said, “Im grateful but a piece of me is waiting to see if the bitterness seeps in.”  It hasn’t. Of course there are experiences I wish that ended ~with more respect, understanding, a lil more …all the things that would soften hurt. But it allowed me to see their and my greater humanity. The bigger picture that is larger than this experience we are having on Earth. 

I know I am the villain in a few victim stories, but not I or anyone else is the villian in my victim story.

My therapist said most people need mushrooms to have a healing like that.  That’s why I’ve stepped away from plant medicine with the intention to heal because I know…

in just feeling, processing, sitting and intention I can get there. 

 

I listened to the CD in my car after that therapy session and cried again and again because he speaks of Redemptive Love and I knew that that is what I had experienced.

Redemptive Self Love. The restoration of full self worth.

1:56:00 NIRVANA SHATAKAM by Master Uday Bhawalkar

One of my teacher's, Silvia Nakkack, teacher who I have taken a few classes with: the revered Dhrupad Master Uday Bhawalker.

She played us this piece in class. Its the end of a nearly 2hr concert. It is absolutely holy.

The meaning was read outloud to us. Read these words outloud as a prayer to oneself. What is "oneself"?

mano buddhi ahankara chittani naaham na cha shrotravjihve na cha ghraana netre na cha vyoma bhumir na tejo na vaayuhu chidananda rupah shivo'ham shivo'ham

I am not the mind, the intellect, the ego or the memory, I am not the ears, the skin, the nose or the eyes, I am not space, not earth, not fire, water or wind, I am the form of consciousness and bliss, I am the eternal Shiva...

na cha prana sangyo na vai pancha vayuhu na va sapta dhatur na va pancha koshah na vak pani-padam na chopastha payu chidananda rupah shivo'ham shivo'ham

I am not the breath, nor the five elements, I am not matter, nor the 5 sheaths of consciousness Nor am I the speech, the hands, or the feet, I am the form of consciousness and bliss, I am the eternal Shiva...

na me dvesha ragau na me lobha mohau na me vai mado naiva matsarya bhavaha na dharmo na chartho na kamo na mokshaha chidananda rupah shivo'ham shivo'ham

There is no like or dislike in me, no greed or delusion, I know not pride or jealousy, I have no duty, no desire for wealth, lust or liberation, I am the form of consciousness and bliss, I am the eternal Shiva...

na punyam na papam na saukhyam na duhkham na mantro na tirtham na veda na yajnah aham bhojanam naiva bhojyam na bhokta chidananda rupah shivo'ham shivo'ham

No virtue or vice, no pleasure or pain, I need no mantras, no pilgrimage, no scriptures or rituals, I am not the experienced, nor the experience itself, I am the form of consciousness and bliss, I am the eternal Shiva...

na me mrtyu shanka na mejati bhedaha pita naiva me naiva mataa na janmaha na bandhur na mitram gurur naiva shishyaha chidananda rupah shivo'ham shivo'ham

I have no fear of death, no caste or creed, I have no father, no mother, for I was never born, I am not a relative, nor a friend, nor a teacher nor a student, I am the form of consciousness and bliss, I am the eternal Shiva...

aham nirvikalpo nirakara rupo vibhut vatcha sarvatra sarvendriyanam na cha sangatham naiva muktir na meyaha chidananda rupah shivo'ham shivo'ham

I am devoid of duality, my form is formlessness, I exist everywhere, pervading all senses, I am neither attached, neither free nor captive, I am the form of consciousness and bliss, I am the eternal Shiva...

Brothers.

Dreams have been wild lately. There were heavy rain clouds. The sun poking through in some pockets. I knew I was back in Tepoztlan. I was happy being back on the land that nurtured me in 2021. A home. Except visually I was Spain. A friend from Tepoz apologized to me and said she wanted to have a space again in my life. Then a dark magnificent rain cloud passed through. I walked the cobble stone street of Tepoz but was in Spain. Looking at the Flamenco classes and feeling so bummed that I had left my shoes home.

I woke up early to pack for a road trip yesterday and had 2 realizations.

  1. I want to be remembered as a woman who operates with a high level of integrity. Meaning, I also want to be held accountable for that bar of intention.
  2. I pray for brothers. Not male friends. There is a difference. Friends would fuck you if they had the chance. Its so easy to sense the difference. If there is a sexual pull from either end... IMO... there is no authentic line of friendship.

and send Sisters. Dear Sisters whose highest value is integrity.

Very tender lately. The tenderness of being alive. Maybe its the breathwork? Sometimes I really embody the knowing of impermanence. Deep gratitude hand in hand with sadness. Everything is fine. Everything is as it should be. I have both my parents. Still though, the knowing that nothing is guaranteed and ever changing. Time may end and ears may never hear my songs. I may never experience love, that kind that my gut knows exists. The kind Ive tasted but once, briefly.

maybe its the emergence from a long period in the liminal state

of sitting in profound mourning and grief

yet everything is as it should be.

the weighted blanket of a cello

Do you see the benefits?

For me,

because its taken so much of my life to just be here,

here in the present,

deeply listening with the ability to breath into the crevices of my internal body and having the awareness to move through the aches and the pains.

I arrived by clearing, healing, resting and an arduous effort of many differing modalities of therapy. Crying and physically grasping at my heart in hopes it wouldn’t stop beating because the amount of grief.

 

For me,

what is more important is the practice itself.

not discipline

not a regime

not an end goal

 

a deep devotion

to a practice

devoted to my spiritual practice

I am devoted.

A frame drum from Pakistan made from a goats hide, that looked the moon. I learned a hard lesson in travelling with a drum. My mom was with me when I realized what I had done. Its last song was at an ashram near Santa Cruz.

I couldnt throw it away and went to Motherland Music. London told me we could cut the hide and teach me how to make a new smaller drum with the moon hide.