The Cosmic Serpent Letters Vol. 3

In the Maya calendar (Cholq’ij / Tzolk’in), your Nawal, sometimes called the “Day sign” in English translations, shows your spiritual essence that you got when you took your first breath. It provides deep insights into your origins, decisions, take actions, goals, and true potentials. The Origin of Consciousness in the Indigenous Cosmolectics

“The first poets were gods. Poetry began with the bicameral mind. The god-side of our ancient mentality, at least in a certain period of history, usually or perhaps always spoke in verse. This means that most men at one time, throughout the day, were hearing poetry (of a sort) composed and spoken within their own minds.”―Julian Jaynes, The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind

THE SONG CHANTED EVERY EIGHT YEARS AT THE FEAST OF THE WATER TAMALES

Sacred Hymn No. 14 

My heart is a flower, 
it bursts open, 
Lord of Midnight, 
Oaya ouayaye. 

Already the Goddess has come, 
our Earthmother has come, 
Oaya ouayaye. 

The god of corn, born in Paradise, 
where flowers bloom, 
on the day One Flower, 
Yantala yantata ayyao ayyaue 
tilili yyao ayaue oayyaue. 

The god of corn, born in the region of rain and mist, 
where the children of men are conceived, 
home of the Lords of Jeweled Fish, 
Yyao yantala yantata ayyao ayyaue 
tilili yyao ayaue oayyaue. 

Dawn arrives, radiant sunrise. 
Multi-colored spoonbills 
drink nectar from the standing flowers,
Yantala yantata ayyao ayyaue 
tilili yyao ayaue oayyaue. 

Here on earth, 
in the market you appear. 
I am the lord, 
I, Quetzalcoatl, 
Yantala yantata ayyao ayyaue 
tilili yyao ayaue oayyaue. 
Florentine Codex, Book 2 

Note: The Atamalcualiztli ceremony included dances and deity impersonation. Its performance served to rejuvenate corn. It was celebrated every eight years on the day One Flower, when the cycle of the planet Venus crossed the 365-day sun cycle. According to the mythological story, on that day during the Creation epoch or First Sun, Tlazolteotl, the Earth Mother, gave birth to Cinteotl, the corn deity. Cinteotl and Quetzalcoatl are closely identified. Cinteotl was the Morning Star (planet Venus), and Quetzalcoatl became the Morning Star in the current epoch or Fifth Sun.

This task is not a person matter, I would personally have preferred to keep my mouth shut about such matters. I write them as part of a task and a responsibility that was revealed to me among first peoples of Toltec descent and that came to me directly from Ah Xoc Kin. Shit about to get crazy around here. But this is why I keep this particular flower/song in my back pocket, just in case it going down, well that's when you pull that fucking cosmic trigger, homie...

To My Grandmother, my Sun. 
To My Mother, the Earth. 
To My Brother, the Deer. 
To My Grandfather, the Fire. 
To The Great Spirit.

In Death 
as in Life 
We are One.

now I cry with almost every line that I type, type away, 
it's heavy, the weigh, we feel is love... 

and she was my sun, now 
it's time for sunflower sutra

the bee shaman came to teach 
the dance, the dance of the dead
it's the one that makes the sunflower bloom

there is even a tale of a rainbow, 
a lil cosmic giggle letting me know 
everything is alright forever and ever

whether or not we realize it 

perhaps the first lesson of disembodied poetics? 
at least that what Blake taught Allen and learn when I was a dharma bum

it's been a while since I have howled, 
the lil bee shaman is getting restless, 

it wants to sing! 
stomp, stomp it's feet

it's the honey we make!
the music makes it sweeeet

"Stories embody incorporeal immortality." 
That was an interesting one to chew on for a bit.
Now with the Death of Grandma, it's the end of an era. 
That whole generation went into the echoes of time.

I feel like I have to get it all down while it's still all fresh in my mind.

My Dad said something interesting a few days ago. He has been watching the MLB channel and they were talking about the hall of fame. And he said that Grandma is a first-ballot hall of famer for Heaven. Then he started to talk about how he has doubts if his father is in heaven, but no doubt about Grandma.

It got me thinking, now I told my father I don't believe in anything, as this philosophical cognitive tool. So I don't really believe in Heaven, but if there's such a thing as Heaven, then for sure Grandma is there, she is truly a legend. A Tortilla Master! I also didn't have the heart to tell my dad that a first-ballot hall of famer is called a Saint. Now I don't believe in anything, but I do have my suspicions. And there is a deep suspicion, there might just be a stage of consciousness that comes after individual death. There is Perennial Wisdom, I found it curious that the Jesus story is not unique, that it's a myth that seems to pop up like wild poppies throughout human history.

Most Religions seem like fever dreams to me, but sacred texts I have found strangely beautiful. I have my serious issues with the Roman Catholic Church, 

for it's truly the black iron prison, but I will not get into that now. 

So let's roll back time, to a time before the Roman Catholic Church had colonized all of our minds, every Mesoamerican culture had the concept of the sacred four directions.

Now they didn't invent it, but they did perfected it. Basically its East which is for birth, South is for youth and rebellion, the West is for Adulthood and Death. Now the North direction is the great spirit and ancestors. A time/space for us to return to the spiritual world. Ancestors and the Great Spirit, there is a stage, or place they mapped out that is after Death.

The Heavens Stir
When An Ancient One dies   

The day after Grandma died, a storm came in. I was in the kitchen, joking that the heavens are stirring, that's what happens when someone becomes an ancestor. Cris smiled.

But after about 3 days, the storm was over. That morning I went with my Dad to get some food from the market, we drove north up woods ave to our house. I notice this Rainbow,
peeking out from the clouds, shining down at the direction of Grandma's house. In all my life living here, now there are not many storms, but enough where each year we have a hand full of days of condition for rainbows, I have never seen a Rainbow in that direction, never seen a Rainbow shining down at the direction of Grandma's home, 3 days later, what the jesus mythos!?!?

The Rainbow Shining down in the north direction of the sacred four corners, a lil wink and nod from the great spirit !?! perhaps...(good thing I don't believe in anything)      

But It's been quite an experience, to realize Grandma kept all these pieces of her great big family. And much like you Anne, I think Jacinta's Story is not for the next life, but for the here and now, in this life. Because her life, love and memories now echo within us. 
Gain access to one of the most profound and powerful consciousness engineering traditions of the Mesoamerican indigenous ecology of mind. The arrival of these tradition at the dawn of the last days of reality, offers urgent encoded messages that might offer some answers to which will be valuable to this crisis of our time. 

The Indigenous Mind of whom we speak of, my brothers and sisters of the mountains, high above, whereabouts unknown, have very little to do with what is taught in courses on shamanism, nor are they interested in taking us on as apprentices. They are in their own element, which is quite removed from our artificial world of concepts and concrete. Distance notwithstanding, however, today it is vitally important for us to learn even a little of what in which they are experts: the Encounter with the dreaming and the intimate and harmonic relationship with the Sun, the Earth and the Fire.

These indigenous people are bearers of their own very efficient Tradition, which does not operate as a body of beliefs or empty religious practices, but rather as an ensemble or precise procedures allowing a person to experience a wide range of perception, much wider than that normally allowed by the culture of modern Western society.

In this codex we speak of the way the indigenous survivors of ancient Toltequity look for and encounter the dreaming and the way they relate themselves with the principal powers of Nature. A way in which there are no books, ideas, ai, beliefs, explanations, interpretations, or intermediaries. A way in which the affair is entirely between the individual and "what's out there." No one promises or sells you anything. No one tells you what you will encounter.

We are speaking of an arduous path that lasts an entire life-time. A difficult path, yes, but real, profound, and tangible. That is the way of the Toltec. No history, no beliefs. Doing and seeing for oneself. Without intermediaries. (just Shrooms, Daykeeping and Dreaming) 

 We as Humans: We are luminous beings. Giving no importance to what our ego and our ideas tell us about ourselves, the essential truth about our nature remains in agreement with what our grandfathers expressed in ancient Tula: 

We are children of the Sun! 
Our nature is to shine as One! 
In Death as in Life We are One.

We sing the pictures of the books, 
and see them widely known, 
We are a precious cosmic bird 
for We make the books speak, 
there in the house of the painted books

This codex is the result of us rethinking in English what we gathered years ago and have more recently augmented concerning the lives and creations of a group of composers of songs, probably the first poets known to us in America. To simply as a translator, as skillful as it might be, to translate from Spanish to English materials some of which were originally in Nahuatl-the language of the Aztecs and their neighbors-would be risky to say the least. We have taken particular care in dealing with source code. And, certainly, we have thought it important to offer a direct English translation of the compositions in Nahuatl-indeed, beautiful flowers and songs.