The Cosmic Dynamo – a New Toltec Teaching Revealed for the Sixth Sun

As a cross-cultural shamanic practitioner, I’ve explored many wisdom streams over the years of my practice to arrive at my current toolkit. In all my studies, however, I’ve never heard of a Cosmic Dynamo, something I directly experienced on the Solstice of 2012. This ancient teaching, revealed to the outside world for the first time, works with vastly powerful Earth forces to disseminate blessings to individuals, families, countries, and even the planet.

A Cosmic Dynamo is the activation of the center of movement of a sacred place, such as a mountain or a stone circle, through physical human activity, ceremony, intention, and offerings. As with the power of prayer, the Cosmic Dynamo allows each tiny human being to have a positive influence on others, by radiating outward, first personal, then social intentions to the community. This force is exponentially increased when people join their energy together with the Earth forces to manifest whatever is on the agenda for that day. 

I have been studying for three years with a brilliant and eloquent Aztec/Toltec teacher, Sergio Magaña Ocelocoyotl (coyote jaguar). There is no surprise that he was born with both Castilian and indigenous blood in his veins because Sergio expertly bridges the modern world with that of his indigenous teachers. He shares tools that align us with ancient, universal rhythms, which can evoke deep, positive change in our lives…if we do the work. He has been teaching in Mexico for over twelve years, and in the US and Europe since 2010. Sergio has learned from great masters in the Mexica lineage including Aztec Anubis, Xolotl José Luis Chávez Martínez, keeper of the ancient Nahuatl wisdom; Xolotl’s wife Alma, teacher of the feminine mysteries—healing with obsidian tools and the popochcomitl, or copal burner; and Hugo Nahui, a gifted scholar on stellar events and their impact on our lives.

I was one of the lucky few who were able to attend an authentic ceremony in Mexico on the auspicious date of 12/21/12. Few also knew that at the Solstice there was a time of no time where the Universe stood still and opportunity was possible. Picture this…

I am near the Zocalo (main square) in Mexico City in ceremony officiated by Xolotl and Alma. It is the eight seconds of no-time at 5:13 a.m. The circle is suddenly hushed. One hundred people, from all points of the globe, power out to the universe our big intentions for ourselves, our families, countries and planet, as the Sixth Sun dawns. A warm, tingly energy pours out from my heart. I feel hugely expansive and peaceful. Like anything is possible…that perhaps we could change the world. When the eight seconds are over, we resume our frenzied dancing as hummingbirds, eagles, and macaws; miming the expert moves of native celebrants.

When they’re not leading ceremony, Xolotl and Alma (as well as Sergio) share their Mexica cosmovision and wisdom with eager students. One of the most memorable concepts that they both taught was that of this Cosmic Dynamo.

In one of Alma’s teaching sessions, she described the healing nature of ceremonial dancing, as we did on the Solstice. Participants place an intention along with a photo, or other personal item on the altar at the center of the dance. The movement creates a vortex of energy, and the focus of the dancers’ intentions sends the healing to its destination, be it personal or planetary. Ceremonial dancing creates the ollin, the movement that feeds the Earth chakra (in the case of the Solstice, the Zocalo, an energetic epicenter of Mexico City) which, in turn, powers the Cosmic Dynamo.

Through the intricate and beautiful altar that centered our Solstice ceremony, I felt the group raise a powerful vortex. As it grew more expansive and rose to the heavens, I felt myself doing the same.  Much later, when I returned to my hotel bed, I fell into dreams of jaguars and serpents racing through my blood and native dancers executing perfect hummingbird steps. Upon waking, I realized I was once again a believer…in the magic and mystery of the universe, something I often lose touch with, wrapped up in the little day-to-day issues of my life. I also felt I had an indigenous piece of the “wild” now planted within me that I could access in the future, when needed. A cure for my often over-civilized modern life. As a visual artist, I also felt gifted with an abundance of raw, new, archetypal material.

The Cosmic Dynamo and Cultural Comparisons

I’ve spun Tibetan prayer wheels; never quite believing that a simple mechanical action could actually send supplications into the ether.

I’ve walked labyrinths, where physical movement took me on both an inner and outer journey to a still center. But it was always a solo process. Never for the community. Imagine going into a labyrinth with intentions and having them radiate to the world upon the out-spiraling!

In Wiccan rituals, I’ve joined and led groups in setting a healing intention; raising a cone of power and sending the energy off to a person, community, or the planet. Anchoring and amplifying the power through a vibrational epicenter of the Earth takes this to a very different level. When you create a Cosmic Dynamo you’re activating an Earth chakra. You’re invoking it to work with you.  In the case of the Solstice, we activated a sacred, ceremonial site. When that Earth chakra is a mountain, what’s activated is the mountain’s heart: its cave. We also activate our own inner cave (chicomostoc) or shadow, in this system, transforming the unknown, the enemy into our Higher Self—the hero who is ready to help the collective. We have within us a portal to a place of great power.

How to Move a Mountain

The bus emerged from the diesel-fumed crush of the city. Closer and closer we sped toward a snow-capped mountain. After our lesson on activating Earth chakras, I was eager to put theory into practice. But the mountain we were approaching was puffing out white clouds like a steam engine!  I recognized it as one of the two sacred volcanoes of Mexico City – Popocatepetl. This Earth chakra already seemed quite active without any human assistance! Would we be working here? My palms started to sweat…

The heart of a mountain (and any organism) is the center of its movement.  According to Xolotl, “In our (Nahuatl) cosmovision, everything has a (vibrational) center. Therefore when we activate sacred things, when we activate the sacred mountains, what we offer is directed to all.” 

A thin bowl of a moon hung slightly over the horizon, echoing the shape of the volcanic crater where we would perform ceremony. An arduous climb up a steep, slippery, shale-covered slope turned the group not inward, but outward toward helping each other as physical limitations were keenly felt. At the summit, we were truly humble warriors, bonded closely with the volcano Cuicuilco. The equally hair-raising and steep descent into the cave in the caldera brought new sensations: cold, pervasive dampness, but also the feeling of being in the sacred womb of the Earth mother, where we could almost hear her breathing.

Just like at the Zocalo, the altar was strewn with offerings including flowers and sacred sweets called tzoalli, made from chocolate, amaranth, tequila, honey, and other delicious ingredients. The tzoalli were arranged in a wheel, representing movement (ollin) and became the center of the Cosmic Dynamo.  The ceremony in the cave was quick, because of the extreme discomfort of the location, but, as many later realized, most effective.

~

Upon my return home, I assimilated all the work we did and realized that my personal growing pains simply mirrored those of Mother Earth. The angst of this awareness wrenched my heart and made me feel a powerful, yet tender responsibility for both her and myself. We are birthing our new selves for this new era, as we agonize together with the contractions, like Inanna comforting Ereshkigel in the underworld—stepping into our darkness, forsaking our outer self-centered trappings of beauty or security or being the superstar lone wolf…because it is called for. Not knowing whether we’ll be dismembered by the process, or whether—like Osiris—we’ll be missing a part of ourselves when the journey is over; but knowing that surely we will be transformed.  All the while we are being forged and tempered into swords of better discernment, in the cave, in our chicomostoc, our cauldron of transformation. Grappling with our shadow. Stepping into our portal to great power.

It’s time to seize our inner swords. To become better stewards of both our shadow…and the planet. We are being called… This is what’s next.

Sergio says, “We persist…in wanting to remain exactly the same, regardless of the perpetual movement and unaware of all the changes that occur on a constant basis…”, and that as humans, we have an inherent tendency to fall into weakness: “the part that in this eternal renewal process prevents us from gaining access to a new idea of ourselves and to its manifestation.”

~

“The human experience is constant change,” says Xolotl. To remain aware, “we need to create our own change regularly to counteract our separation from our pure essence.”

Ometeotl. (And so it is!)

Did the Mayans get it wrong? What’s next? … Just me and my Shadow?

We survived the Solstice. The end of the world. I wasn’t particularly surprised...Were you? Long before that fateful day, I learned about a different calendar that allows us to live longer…Because it looks like we’re still here.

I refer to the Aztec calendar, the image that we most associate with the Mayan calendar. But unlike the Mayan’s, and just like a Timex, the Aztec calendar keeps on ticking… beyond 12/21/12. Not only that, but the Aztec calendar—and the indigenous wisdom behind it—holds clues to how our future will unfold. And how to ready ourselves for this new era…called the Sixth Sun.

~

As a cross-cultural shamanic practitioner, specializing in soul retrieval, I’ve explored many wisdom streams to arrive at my current toolkit. The Toltec/Aztec path has some very special practices to help us deal with the full range of human foibles, when we’re faced with upcoming challenges unique to this Sixth Sun.

~

I first learned about this Sixth Sun from Aztec/Toltec teacher Sergio Magaña Ocelocoyotl (coyote jaguar). A brilliant and eloquent young man, Sergio expertly bridges the modern world with that of his indigenous teachers and ancestors. There is no surprise that he was born with both Castilian and indigenous blood in his veins. He shares practices that align us with ancient, universal rhythms, which can evoke deep, positive change in our lives…if we do the work. He has been teaching in Mexico for over twelve years, and in the US and Europe since 2010. Sergio has learned from great masters in the Mexica lineage including Aztec Anubis, Xolotl José Luis Chávez Martínez, keeper of the ancient Nahuatl wisdom; Xolotl’s wife Alma, teacher of the feminine mysteries—healing with obsidian tools and the popochcomitl, or copal burner; and Hugo Nahui, a gifted scholar on stellar events and their impact on our lives.

I was one of the lucky few who was able to attend an authentic ceremony in Mexico on the auspicious date of 12/21/12. Not many also knew that at the Solstice there was a time of no time where the Universe stood still and opportunity was possible. Picture this…

I am near the Zocalo (main square) in Mexico City in ceremony officiated by Xolotl and his priestess wife, Alma. It is the eight seconds of no-time at 5:13 a.m. The circle is suddenly hushed. One hundred people, from all points of the globe, power out to the universe our big intentions for ourselves, our families, countries and planet, as the Sixth Sun dawns. A warm, tingly energy pours out from my heart. I feel hugely expansive and peaceful, like time did stop and anything was possible—perhaps we were changing the world in that very moment. When the eight seconds were over, we resume our frenzied dancing as hummingbirds, eagles, and macaws; miming the expert moves of native celebrants, and calling in all they represent.

~

But that was but a moment in time that marked an official goodbye to an old way of being and ushered in the influence of the next “Sun”, the Sixth Sun. Each Era spans 6,625 years. While the Fifth Sun was an era of outer conquest and seeking wisdom and happiness in the world around us, the Sixth Sun ushers in an era of inner listening—of working with the wisdom within—and deepens until it is in full control on 12/21/2021. In other words, a time of reckoning with our shadow: those cast-off parts of ourselves that we have buried away from our conscious awareness. Those things we hide from ourselves. Often it is because of trauma that we push both our gifts and negative experiences away from the light. Qualities like insecurity, or jealousy—or even a talent for singing that never gets expressed for fear of public humiliation—these things cause us pain. The shadow can be positive as well as negative, and can help as well as hinder us. Unfortunately, we usually end up acting out aspects of our shadow when they are repressed, such as criticizing the successful artist or attacking the homosexual, be it through a casual remark or worse. When others exhibit our shadow qualities, we often have strong negative feelings toward these people, but never consider why this might be.  It is because they are expressing disowned aspects of ourselves.

The Aztec/Toltec tradition that Sergio presents helps people to realize that, yes, we ALL have a shadow, whether we deny it or not. This is nothing to be ashamed of…it is a human condition. Uniquely, this tradition provides tools, such as the Obsidian Mirror, for actually making a connection—seeing, feeling, creating awareness, and ownership—for the 15 aspects of the shadow—positive and negative—that the tradition describes for us to work with. And then, if one chooses, and with commitment and discipline, they can transform the harmful aspects of their shadow to helpful ones. Turning one’s own worst enemy into their inner hero. Becoming more effective in one’s life. The life-affirming effects are similar to those gained through soul retrieval or other more traditional psychotherapy methods that also work with dissociation.

Why is it important to acknowledge and transform our shadow NOW? Because we live in accelerated times. Even more so, after 12/21/12. Our thoughts and actions manifest much more quickly now. This is one of the aspects of the Sixth Sun Era, an era of “endarkenment”. We can create heaven or hell on this Earth much easier now. The cosmos is assisting us. It is our choice which of the two we’d like to create in our life. The “easy” path is to give in to inner darkness—react without thinking, say something off the top of our head because it’s a popular sentiment, but not something that’s been thought through as to whether it really rings true in our heart. The challenge is to rise above our “pain body” (as Eckhart Tolle calls it) of ourselves, our family, our culture, or our country and shed light on our inner darkness. And in so doing, bring more light and hope to the human condition at this point in time. When it is so desperately needed.

~

I was terrified to look at my shadow…as anyone would be…but knew it was my responsibility. I’d worked with it before, but like peeling an onion, found there were more layers. I got lucky. I was given an opportunity to work on mine in Mexico at an auspicious moment in time. A significant relationship in my life had just unraveled and ended. Additionally, I’d been experiencing the disorientation of hot flashes, weight gain, hormonal fluctuations, and most significantly, an urgency to address my inner victim—to no longer put up with people and situations in my life anymore that were not in integrity. That were not congruent with the path of dignity I needed to walk. I couldn’t tell if what I’d been experiencing were growing pains, ascension symptoms, or something else. I wanted to set some awareness and healing in motion by refocusing my attention in ritual and connection with the Earth. To make sense—in a shamanic setting—of the changes in my life. What better place to do this than the energetic center of Mexico at this time in history?

~

I sit cross-legged in a temazcal, or sweat lodge, also led by Xolotl and Alma. Unlike the Solstice ritual, this is a very intimate, personal affair. Our lodge is a green reed dome, partially covered by tarps. Clad in sarongs, shorts, and skivvies, our group of 20 crawls to their places inside, as an eagle circles overhead under a clear blue dome—an auspicious omen.

As the couple’s preteen girl and boy play on the grassy lawn outside, I feel like we become the couple’s 20 children as their gentle ministrations are translated from Spanish to English...but soon realize, that here, in the temazcal, we are children of Earth parents who possess deep, healing love but also claws and fangs.

Since I’d participated in over half a dozen sweatlodges already, fear of the unknown had long vanished with my initial one. Here, I eagerly anticipated the hermetic hug of the warm, dark womb. I was joyful for the opportunity to step between the worlds, and outside of the everyday world…something I hadn’t done in a while.

~

Introductions are made, and the womb-like space feels initially safe and cozy. The first round of red hot stones is pitchforked in; each rock cradled by very long, sharp tines that slide inches from my bare leg. I release my breath when the final stone is placed, blessed, and the door closed. Because I’d requested a personal healing for bronchitis, Xolotl now ushers me to sit by the central fire pit, facing away from it. It’s a chill, windy day outside, and I’m happy to abandon my drafty seat by the door. He sprinkles water on the stones.

Luxuriating in the enveloping steam bath, I’m now feeling held by my surrogate parents. Sighing deeply, I relax into the comforting silence. Then…surprise! My back is whipped with a leafy tree branch! I feel…oddly Catholic and almost laugh. The leaves don’t hurt, but an occasional spark singes my skin for a microsecond. Had he touched the branch to the stones first?! Was my hair going to burn?! I just had it done!

As gifted shamans, my “parents” know what they are doing. The temazcal balances health, mind and emotions. Sometimes certain plants are used to enhance the work and help the client with their inner struggle to change; in particular Pirul (Pepper Plant), Rosemary, and Santa Maria (Spearmint). The practitioner asks the stones of the temazcal for balance and healing—touching them briefly with the herb—and then taps the affected area on the client with the plant. Xolotl and Alma believe sickness is caused by unbalanced energy; resulting in chemical, physical, social, biological, and mind alterations. Their methods to rebalance a person include temazcal, infusions, massage, cleansings, dancing, and breathing exercises. Most importantly, as in other shamanic healing methods, faith assists the success of the client’s inner work.

With each touch of the pepper branch, I feel a fluttering inside my chest of dark wings, echoing those of the eagle overhead. Shards of old grief, long buried, begin to surface. I gasp, cough, and weep.

A couple hours later I emerge from the lodge, absolutely radiant—my lungs and skin gloriously clear and hydrated. Purified for the Solstice ceremony and respectful of Xolotl and Alma’s Earth parent power.

~

It was only much later, as I assimilated all the work we did, that I realized my personal growing pains simply mirrored those of Mother Earth. The angst of this awareness wrenched my heart and made me feel a powerful, yet tender responsibility for both her and myself. Wise new actions were and continue to be called for. In some cases these actions involve culling—with intention—the things that no longer contribute to the well-being of either my life or that of the planet; such as a long-term acquaintance who refuses to walk a path of integrity or cannot quit identifying with their inner victim. In other cases, the new actions might be as simple of keeping a supply of reusable shopping bags in the car, or driving more mindful of pedestrians, and with less haste. We are birthing our new selves for this new era, as we agonize together with the contractions, like Inanna comforting Ereshkigel in the underworld—stepping into our darkness, forsaking our outer self-centered trappings of beauty or security or being the superstar lone wolf…because it is called for. Not knowing whether we’ll be dismembered by the process, or whether—like Osiris—we’ll be missing a part of ourselves when the journey is over; but knowing that surely we will be transformed.  All the while we are being forged and tempered into swords of better discernment, in the cave, in our chicomostoc, our cauldron of transformation. Grappling with our shadow. Stepping into our portal to great power.

It’s time to seize our inner swords. To become better stewards of both our shadow…and the planet. We are being called… This is what’s next.

Sergio says, “We are entering the cycle of the Obsidian Eagle, a place where our dreams and our enlightenment are attained through the path of darkness, through the transformation of our own cave (shadow).”

Ometeotl. (And so it is!)

Did the Mayans get it wrong? What’s next?

We survived the Solstice. The end of the world. I wasn't particularly surprised...Were you? Long before that fateful day, I learned about a different calendar that seems to really have the answers. For now. Now that we're still here...


The image we associate with the Mayan calendar is actually that of the Aztec calendar. How did that happen? But unlike the Mayan's, and just like a Timex, the Aztec calendar keeps on ticking...beyond 12/21/12. Not only that, but the Aztec calendar, and the indigenous wisdom behind it, holds clues to how our future will unfold. And how to ready ourselves for this new era...called the Sixth Sun.

~

I first learned about this Sixth Sun from Aztec/Toltec teacher Sergio Magana Ocelocoyotl. A brilliant and eloquent young man, Sergio expertly bridges the modern world with that of his indigenous teachers. Sharing tools that align us with ancient, universal rhythms, which evoke deep, positive change in our lives, he's been teaching in the US and Europe since 2010. Sergio's lineage includes Aztec Anubis, Xolotl Jose Luis Chavez Martinez, keeper of the ancient Nahuatl wisdom, and Hugo Nahui, a gifted scholar of stellar events and their impact on our lives.

~

On the auspicious date of 12/21/12, I joined in a ceremony led by Xolotl and his priestess wife, Alma, near the Zocalo (main square) of Mexico City...

During the eight seconds of no-time at 5:13 a.m., I stood in a suddenly hushed circle. One hundred people—from all points of the globe—powered out to the universe our big intentions for ourselves, our families, countries and planet, as the Sixth Sun dawned. When the eight seconds were over, we resumed our frenzied dancing as hummingbirds, eagles, and macaws; miming the expert moves of native celebrants.

~

With this Solstice, the influence of the next “Sun” or Era of 6,625 years surpasses that of the previous Fifth Sun and deepens until it is in full control on 12/21/2021. While the Fifth Sun was an era of outer conquest and seeking wisdom and happiness beyond ourselves, the Sixth Sun ushers in an era of inner listening. In other words, a time of reckoning with our shadow.

As a not-so-proud owner of one, I felt drawn work on mine in Mexico at this particular time. I couldn’t tell if what I’d been experiencing were growing pains, ascension symptoms, or something less savory. I wanted to set some awareness and healing in motion. What better place to do this than the energetic center of Mexico? 

~

I sit cross-legged in a temezcal, or sweat lodge, also led by Xolotl and Alma. Unlike the Solstice ritual, this is a very intimate, personal affair. Our lodge is a green reed dome, partially covered by tarps. Clad in sarongs, shorts, and skivvies, our group of 20 crawl to their places inside.

As the couple’s preteen girl and boy play on the grassy lawn outside, I feel like we become the couple’s 20 children as their gentle ministrations are translated from Spanish to English...but soon realize, that here, in the temezcal, we are children of Earth parents who possess deep, healing love, but also claws and fangs.

Introductions are made, and the womb-like space feels initially safe and cozy. The first round of red hot stones is pitchforked in; each rock cradled by very long, sharp tines that slide inches from my bare leg. I release my breath when the final stone is placed, blessed, and the door closed. Because I’d requested a personal healing for bronchitis , Xolotl now ushers me to sit by the central fire pit, facing away from it. It’s a chill, windy day outside, and I’m happy to abandon my drafty seat by the door. He sprinkles water on the stones.

Luxuriating in the enveloping steam bath, I’m now feeling pampered by my surrogate parents. Sighing deeply, I relax into the comforting silence. Then…surprise! My back is whipped with a leafy tree branch! I feel…oddly Catholic and almost laugh. The leaves don’t hurt, but an occasional spark singes my skin for a microsecond. Had he touched the branch to the fire first?! Was my hair going to burn?! I just had it done!

Fortunately, as gifted shamans, my “parents” knew what they were doing. I emerge from the lodge a couple hours later absolutely radiant; my lungs and skin gloriously clear and hydrated. Purified for the Solstice ceremony and respectful of Xolotl and Alma’s Earth parent power.

~

When they’re not thrashing tourists or teaching eagles to fly (midwifing sweatlodgers or leading ceremony), Xolotl and Alma share their Mexica cosmovision and wisdom with eager students. One of the most memorable concepts that they both taught was that of the Cosmic Dynamo. This is the activation of the center of movement of a sacred place, such as a mountain, through physical human activity and offerings, and then radiation outward of first personal, then social intentions to the community.

In one of Alma’s teaching sessions, she described the healing nature of ceremonial dancing, as we did on the Solstice. Participants place an intention along with a photo, or other personal item on the altar at the center of the dance. The movement creates a vortex of energy, and the focus of the dancers’ intentions sends the healing to its destination, be it personal or planetary.

Through the intricate and beautiful altar that centered our Solstice ceremony, I felt the group raise a powerful vortex. I returned to bed at my hotel later; dreaming about jaguars and serpents racing through my blood, and native dancers executing perfect hummingbird steps.

With the Solstice ceremony taking place near the Zocalo, we tapped into an ancient power source. This was the very site where the Aztec calendar was unearthed! The Templo Mayor, one of the main Aztec temples, is also close by. Sadly, it was desecrated by the Spanish; its stones pilfered and built into a Cathedral. (Churches can often be found built on top of ancient places of power.) Interestingly, one of the two towers of the Templo Mayor was dedicated to Huitzilopochtli (hummingbird). Not by coincidence, our Solstice dancing was exquisitely led by a slight man in a white hummingbird costume, in honor of the new Sun, also called Huitzilopochtli.

Cultural Comparisons

As a cross-cultural shamanic practitioner, I’ve explored many wisdom streams to arrive at my current toolkit. In all my studies, however, I’ve never heard of a blessing disseminator on the scale I experienced with Xolotl and Alma. And this particular teaching, creating a Cosmic Dynamo, is just being revealed to the outside world for the first time!

I’ve spun Tibetan prayer wheels; never quite believing that a simple mechanical action could actually send supplications into the ether.

I’ve walked labyrinths, where physical movement took me on both an inner and outer journey to a still center. But it was always a solo process. Never for the community. Imagine going into a labyrinth with intentions and having them radiate to the world upon the out-spiraling!

In Wiccan rituals, I’ve joined and led groups in setting a healing intention; raising a cone of power and sending the energy off to a person, community, or the planet. Anchoring and amplifying the power through a vibrational epicenter of the Earth takes this to a very different level. When you create a Cosmic Dynamo you’re activating an Earth chakra. You’re invoking it to work for you.  In the case of the Solstice, we activated a sacred, ceremonial site. When that Earth chakra is a mountain, what’s activated is the mountain’s heart…its cave….

The Personal and Metaphorical Cave

In addition to activating an Earth  cave, we also activate our own inner cave (chicomostoc) or shadow, in this system, transforming the unknown, the enemy into our Higher Self—the hero who is ready to help the collective. We have within us a portal to a place of great power.

How to Move a Mountain

The heart of a mountain (and any organism) is the center of its movement.  According to Xolotl, “In our (Nahuatl) cosmovision, everything has a (vibrational) center. Therefore when we activate sacred things, when we activate the sacred mountains, what we offer is directed to all.” 

In another ceremony, on another night, our offerings included flowers, songs, chants, dances, and sacred sweets called tzoalli, made from chocolate, amaranth, tequila and other delicious ingredients. In the center of the designated altar, in a cave within a caldera, the tzoalli would be arranged in a wheel, representing movement (ollin) and becoming the center of the Cosmic Dynamo. 

~

The bus slowly emerged from the diesel-fumed crush of the city. Closer and closer we sped toward a snow-capped mountain. After our lesson on activating Earth chakras, I was eager to put theory into practice. But the mountain we were approaching was puffing out white clouds like a steam engine!  I recognized it as one of the two sacred volcanoes of Mexico City – Popocatepetl. This Earth chakra already seemed quite active without any human assistance! Would we be working here? My palms started to sweat…

~

Thankfully, a less pyrotechnic Earth chakra was selected for our ceremony. And it was only much later, as I assimilated all the work we did, that I realized my personal growing pains simply mirrored those of Mother Earth. We are birthing our new selves for this new era, as we agonize together with the contractions, like Inanna comforting Ereshkigel in the underworld—stepping into our darkness, forsaking our outer self-centered trappings of beauty or security or being the superstar lone wolf…because it is called for. Not knowing whether we’ll be dismembered by the process, or if we’ll be missing a part of ourselves when the journey is over like Osiris; but knowing that surely we will be transformed.  All the while we are being forged and tempered into swords of better discernment, in the cave, in our chicomostoc, our cauldron of transformation—grappling with our shadow, stepping into our portal to great power.

It’s time to seize our inner swords. Become better stewards of both our shadow…and the planet. We are being called… This is what’s next.

~

“The human experience is constant change,” says Xolotl. “We need to create our own( change regularly to counteract our separation from our pure essence.”

Ometeotl. (And so it is!)

(An initiated Andean and Wiccan priestess and shamanic practitioner, Michele Fontaine is an award-winning author of novels and short stories. Her work has appeared in Shaman’s Drum magazine, Travelers’ Tales, The San Francisco Chronicle, and Left Coast Writers’ “Road Work”.)

Pocket Wisdom - Winter Solstice 2011

Shrinking away
orange outlining black
the ivy of Beltane's wreath
retreats behind a log of
Solstice fire.
Shy maiden
turns from phoenix to ash.
Instantly aged.
Beltane's bride
turned crone
and creature of the underworld.
No longer competing with Persephone there,
She hides away
until it's safe
for tender new leaves to unfurl
and reveal clitoral wisdom
and once again unshroud the Mystery.
As she is remade
remaidened
rebrided
rebridled
and ridden by her beloved
in a Beltane garden
at midnight
next year.

The McGregor Curse

1

She watches the gold slip out of the river in bands, as she sways in a rocking chair painted the color of lichens.

Invisible hands weave in stripes of pink that radiate toward her screened porch.

Hues on the far shore flatten to a thalo green wash of trees, bordering the glacier-blue blur of water.

The water pleats slightly near the dock, with a slight push of a breeze.

Activity. A skiff hurtles itself across the water halfway from the other shore; its sound carried over by the change of wind. The boat’s vivacious captain barks an enthusiastic tale upriver. Everything about the craft presses forward as if eager for his story—boat, listeners, black Labrador at the prow. Their ripples slap her rock pier moments later.

The craft disappears behind the cedar stand bordering her lawn. A closer rumble and thrum of the outboard. The motor percolates. Churns. Stills.

The river resumes its sleepy pace, showing no signs of either storytold travelers, or the hurricane that—just yesterday—surged its waters over the retaining wall and five feet onto the grass.

Except for a roll of seaweed and flotsam at the edge of the gray blades, there is very little indication that 75 mile an hour winds ripped through the town.

Ambling to the lawn’s edge, she toes the salted pile. Bristling with hooks, an orange plastic minnow stares up at her. Snaking up from the tangle a small length of purple rope sidles up to a 7-foot-long piling. Once a boat mooring, the salted gray tree stalk bears a loop of rusted iron at one end.

White hydrangea heads—scattered like a thrown bridal bouquet—are strewn over the front lawn. The bride, Irene, had a strong arm, as there are pieces in the back yard too. Or maybe the bouquet was thrown by her grandmother, whose spirit is very palpable at the cabin. For Erin’s “as if” wedding. “As if” Sean’s and her lives were simpler and they could just be like normal people and get married. As if they didn’t have the McGregor curse hanging over their heads.

2

It all started the night Uncle Farley drove his wagon home too fast, after visiting his lady friend Clara in Dingle. Rounding a particularly sharp curve, he was thinking not of the road ahead, but of his fair Clara’s abundant . . . virtues, when his cart collided with the local witch, who was out for an evening stroll.

As Uncle Farley bent over the unfortunate creature, her nose twitched. Peeling open one bloodshot eye, she gasped and said, “You’ve been with that wretched Clara McGuiness! Bane of my existence! In fifth grade, she stole the only love I ever had. So I say . . . five years, no more, will you enjoy her or any woman as your wife. Same goes for the other men in yer family!” With curse uttered, she lowered her head, exhaled deeply, and died.

Uncle Farley felt bad, but married Clara anyway. True to the witch’s curse, however, on the day of their fifth wedding anniversary, Clara mysteriously fell down the well and drowned.

Uncle Farley wasn’t a superstitious man, but after Clara’s untimely, yet predicted demise, he vowed to stay off the bridal path . . . and to remain alert on the bridle path.

Guilt stopped him from telling any other men in the family of the curse. But the following year, when his brother Earl’s wife mysteriously dropped dead into her potato leek soup on their five-year anniversary, he figured it was time to fess up.

Together, the brothers sought the advice of various priests, witches and Little People throughout the Dingle area, but with no luck. It would seem the curse was now the family legacy.

When Earl’s son, Sean turned 16, Earl broke the sorry news to him. Sean laughed and told his Dad to sod off. But when Uncle Marley’s bride of five years died under dubious circumstances, Sean vowed he’d never let this happen to his lady, and swore to remain a forever bachelor. Until he met Erin . . .

3

Erin McPhee wasn’t like the other art students at their university. A fairy-woman—a force of nature—she was dancing like Liquid Amber in an Autumn storm, when he first laid eyes on her. Her long legs describing sensuous lines as she flowed and held dramatic poses. Her red curls whipped as she whirled and swirled in pirouette after pirouette. She wore a white peasant blouse and a black vest, atop red tights. They were freshmen in college and the Art Department was hosting a Breugelfest on the campus lawn, in honor of the painter of peasants.

When Erin stopped to catch her breath, Sean’s knees trembled. This red-haloed angel was standing right beside him.

“My kingdom for a beer,” she panted.

“Would this do, m’lady?” He produced a can of Guinness out of his backpack.

“I’m afraid I lied to you about the kingdom.” Her dazzling smile was making him weak in the knees again, but he rallied.

“No worries, he said. “If you join me at Saturday’s Morris Dance, I’ll consider myself a member of your royal court.”

“Give me your hand.” She wrote her number on his skin, handed him the empty, and spun off; back into the fray.

For once in his life he’d said the right thing.

4

The fog had distance and dimension. That’s why she liked it, Erin decided. No nebulous immersion in the usual gray miasma. Today she wasn’t returning home to the usual desolate urban expanse, but, perhaps to a warmer, kinder city. Her Honda Civic hurtled over the Bay Bridge.

Low on the skyline, playing limbo under the Golden Gate Bridge, the distinctly delineated white cloud kept to itself. Minding its own business for a change. Instead of greeting her with its habitually cold, clammy embrace; like a creepy guy in an alley. She was tired of feeling constantly molested.

Although she wouldn’t mind being molested by Sean, she thought. . . .

A car’s horn blared by her side, and she swerved sharply back into her lane; heart racing like a rabbit’s.

Why did I think of Sean? It’s been years since I moved here with him. Years since he left.

She exited at Treasure Island. Found an abandoned parking lot behind an old military building. And had a good cry.

Shadow Heart -- Chapter 1 -- Hurricane Irene

She watches the gold slipping out of the river in bands, like the unweaving of a loom. Replaced by invisible hands with stripes of pink. They radiate toward her. The colors on the far shore flatten to a thalo green wash of trees, bordering the glacier-blue blur.

The water pleats slightly near the dock, with a slight push of a breeze.

Activity. A skiff hurtles itself across the water halfway from the other shore; its sound carried by the change of wind. The boat's vivacious captain barks an enthusiastic tale upriver. Everything about the craft presses forward as if eager for his story--boat, listeners, chocolate Labrador at the prow. Their ripples slap her rock pier moments later.

The craft disappears behind the cedar stand bordering her lawn. A closer rumble and thrum of the outboard. The motor percolates. Churns. Stills.

The river resumes its sleepy pace; showing no signs of either storytold travelers, or the hurricane that, just yesterday, surged its waters over the retaining wall and five feet onto the grass.

Except for a roll of seaweed and flotsam at the edge of the gray blades, there is very little indication that 75 mile and hour winds ripped through the town.

Bristling with hooks, an otherwise passive plastic minnow stares up at her when she toes the pile. Snaking up from the tangy tangle is a small length of purple rope. Arrested serpentine motion next to the fluorescent orange fish. A 7-foot-long piling lies there too. Once a boat mooring, the salted gray tree stalk bears a loop of rusted iron at one end.

White hydrangea heads--scattered like a thrown bridal bouquet--are strewn over the front lawn. The bride, Irene, had a strong arm, as there are pieces in the back yard too. Or maybe the bouquet was thrown by her grandmother; whose spirit is very palpable in the cabin. For Erin's "as if" wedding. "As if" Sean's and her lives were simpler and they could just be like normal people and get married.

All because of the McGregor curse.

Ecstasy and Modern Life

I just can't get over Amy Winehouse's death. She's a part of me. She's a part of all of us that is splintered off from connection with the Divine. Distanced from the Divine by addictions. It points to a fundamental hole in many of us. I'm talking about something so basic, so intrinsic, it goes beyond culture, religious belief, Muggleness, Atheism, and modern living. Any one of us can become addicted. Forget our connection to the Divine. And die. A slow or fast death.

I"m feeling this one with a familar pain. This girl's death . . . she's a part of me. And you. There's a reason for her death. Awareness. On the part of all of us.

How alive do we want to be.

How dead.