AS THE TORTILLA BURNS – Chapter Five

 

   I had settled into a quiet life in Mexico and continued with the story I had been writing in Lake Tahoe.  I had spent hours researching a vision I had while traveling throughout Central America.  The whole purpose for this trip was to rediscover who I was, try and overcome some of the problems I had never faced in hopes I could turn my life around and find true happiness within.  This had been the real reason for coming to Mexico, but it was also a search for my twin soul.  The story I began writing nearly two years before had stayed with me for 25 years, it changed my life in ways that only now I understand.  It’s important that I include what happened in Rosarito, so that you will understand why I moved to Mulege and made the decisions I did.

My friend Amber, had given me a book to read “Twin Souls” and it opened something in my mind.  It had awakened a memory deep inside me. It was a concept as ancient as recorded history.  It embraced profound spiritual and mystical teachings and it helped to explain the eternal yearning in the heart of man and woman to be united in oneness.  Before I could find my Twin Soul, I needed to find myself.  I had a deep spiritual dimension beckoning me. I put on the Ruby Ring that I had bought in Buenos Aires so many years before, I felt a connection.  I began writing short stories, I was about to turn 39.  I hadn’t thought about the vision since I was twenty, why had it come back?  As the vision began to creep into my sub-conscious it reminded me of something deep in my heart, but it seemed covered and hard to see.  I began to write like I had never before.  Poems and short stories, then I wrote the story of Topaz one day, it just came to me.  While staring at my computer, I realized that I had started another story, this one was different.  I actually dreamt it, looking for my soul mate.  I wondered if I would ever find him.  I wished an oracle could predict the outcome, but all I could feel at the moment was the hair rising on the back of my neck.  I could sense the calm mask was hiding some deep and permanent change.  Searching my memory banks, was there a basis for hope?

It was a summer day in August, often it would rain in the mountains when it got hot in the valleys.  Huge black clouds would accumulate, I loved those summer storms.   As I sat down to write it began to pour.  I had been working a few hours when lightening struck, I lost all my power.  I hadn’t saved anything on the computer, I was so caught up in what I was writing, I had forgotten.  I would have to write it over, I thought, how will I ever duplicate what I have already written and then it flowed, something was guiding me.  It seemed like such an innocent little fairy tale, but after reading it over and over, I began to realize the meaning of the search, I called it “Topaz The Water Sprit”, it had come from within in me.  I was ready, I would re-experience unity. Topaz was the beginning of my remembering.

The Perfect Dream    Topaz
Long ago in a magical kingdom, in a time all but  forgotten by many, visibly rare, remembered now only by those with a creative imagination.  There lived a water sprit, her name was Topaz.  Born of a rare pearl of Topaz hue in the tropical seas, and adorned with a crowning mane of gold, crimson, titan and rose hair falling in tendrils of curls past her waist.  Jade eyes that sparkled with flecks of gold, deep pools that reflected your soul, she could tell in a glance, who you where and where you came from, but only if you looked deep in her eyes and only if you dared.

Living beneath the sea, playing with the starfish, anemones and seahorses they taught her a gentle nature.  Her tiny body, fragile with longs arms to comfort you.  Small supple, but ample breasts developed in time as she became a woman.

Laughing with the dolphins, riding the giant mantas like horses, loving the sharks like puppy dogs they followed her where ever she went.  Watching the fairy basslets in purple and gold hiding in the coral head where she lived.  Swimming through the warm azure waters with her hair flowing in the shimmering light of the sun, she was not a mermaid, but a sprit that lived beneath the sea, where she was safe.

Centuries past, it was a time before man, witches and sorcerers ruled the land, casting the spell that changed apes into man.  Topaz had no magical power to cast spells on to others it was only her beauty and the gold in her eyes that captured her prey, by revealing the truth hidden away.

On the other side of the world there lived a magician named Merlin.  He was able to see the other side of every argument, every situation, in order to accomplish this he had turned himself upside down, immersed in the spirit of contrary he walked backward into life, speaking only in riddles and presenting his face only to the past.  Engaging in self reflection, he discovered the power of prophecy just as the contrary, facing backwards is often speaking about future events as though they had already occurred.

Merlin had wandered the world for hundreds of years, growing old and weary.  His long beard was now gray, he carried his staff hunched over.  He had come to the kingdom of Camelot, A Magical Kingdom, he was a teacher to a boy who later become king, King Arthur. To his king he had served him well.  Merlin used his magical powers to teach King Arthur the lessons of life.

A prophecy proclaimed that one day Merlin would lose his powers and spend seven hundred years in a cave with Nimue.  Merlin knew that the time would come, teaching Arthur everything he could before his time would come to an end.  Then one night, just before Arthur was to marry, Nimue came to take Merlin away.  He pleaded with her to let him stay just a little while longer, but it was too late.  The time had come for Merlin and his life as he had known it to be over.

Seven hundred years had passed.  Topaz living beneath the sea, had now grown into a beautiful Sprit.  She spent her time watching the land.  There were now people living along the shore of her once quiet sea.  The quiet water that surrounded her home began to disappear, as a pebble into a quiet pool, she could watch the concentric waves and considered the turbulence by this symmetry of silence.  In her dreams she had reached an enchanted moment in which she could see the past, present and the future as one continuous process.

She had made a decision to leave her home and travel to a new land.  She moved forward into the unknown landscape with a certain curiosity.  Her choice was based on an inner guidance, and the lonely search for the man she had seem in her dreams.

After seven hundred years, Nimue had left Merlin.  The spell cast centuries ago had been lifted.  He was now a young man, tall, virile, with the strength of a man in his twenties.  His hair was a shimmering blond that hung to his shoulders, his gray beard had disappeared and his brilliant blue eyes shone in the sunlight.  As he left the cave, he realized that he was now alone in the world.  He had realized the connection between his body, mind and spirit, he had found innocence reborn.  He was now focusing his energy on his most powerful tool, his memory.

Strong was his desire to re-experience unity that he felt in his heart.  He had a vivid dream in his subconscious that was guiding him to someone, but it was still unclear.  He was being rejuvenated by an eternal flame.

Once again Topaz found herself playing along the shores of a distant land.  This time however it was different, there were no people living along the sea.  She searched and searched still no one.  She was growing lonely and weary that she would never find the vision in her dreams.

One day while playing with dolphins, she spotted a man on the beach.  She watched him, while she played in the waves.  He was stretched out in the sand with his arms folded behind his head, it looked like he was sleeping.  He had a kind gentle face, his long hair beaming in the sun.  He was dressed in what only appeared to be a loin cloth.  Then he woke up and looked up in her direction, she dove quickly under the water so he couldn’t see her.  He had gotten up and walked out to the waves, like he was looking for something.  Had he seen her?  She wasn’t sure.  She swam over to some rocks, so that she could watch him without being seen.  She watched him for several days, she was afraid to let him see her.

Topaz was a beautiful woman, her hair flowing, adorned in pearls from the sea, creating a crown.  Her body though tiny and fragile was well proportioned, she only wore bits of clothing barely enough to cover her body.  She had never actually spent anytime on land even though she had legs instead of a tail.

Merlin was spending more and more time near the water, he had felt something and was sure someone was watching him.  One day he spotted her hiding in the rocks, her flowing mane of crimson curls were wet and clinging to her body.  Tiny pearls glisten from around her neck. 
Where had she come from?  His hearts raced.

Topaz was sure he hadn’t seen her and she wanted to get closer.  She climbed onto the rocks so that she could get a better look, as she peered over the top of the rocks, Merlin was standing right in front of her and their eyes met.  He looked right into the gold flecks in her eyes and it was like their lives past in front of them.  Spinning around and around the sparks were flying.  In that moment they shared a life and sparked a flame of passion and lust for each other.  Reaching out to take a chance for a moments in just one glance.  She held out her hand and as he came close to her and touched her fingers, as their hands met a sense of joy overcame them. 

He picked her up and carried her in his arms, to a cool soft spot in the sand, where the filtered light of the palms sheltered them.  Looking deeply into her eyes, their lips met for the first time.  Gently caressing her soft breasts, his moans of fire, excited her more, the wet essence between her legs longing for him.  He pulled her down onto the sand and mounted her with pleasure as they both glistened with sweat.  Pure lust and passion as they lay in each others arms and drifting off in a dream like sleep.

“Ms. Delores, Ms. Delores your flight is about to land,” I heard the stewardess say.  As I opened my eyes, I remembered where I was.  “We will be landing in Mexico in about 15 minutes,” the perky woman said. “Oh”, I sighed.   Taking out a small mirror from my purse, I looked into my green eyes to see if I had any gold flecks. My thoughts drifted back to my dream and while brushing my waist length strawberry hair, I wondered if I would ever meet the man in my dream.

I began the research of the mysterious vision that had become very much apart of my waking thoughts each day.  I joined an online library and began reading through the History of Colonial Spain from 1467 to 1975.   I felt like a detective paying close attention to detail, to perceive patterns that formed a clue, a significant outcome could hinge on a tiny obscurity that only I would notice.  I wasn’t sure where to begin, but felt it must be Spain. First starting with A’s and characters from history during the Conquistadors, I was now in the P’s and came across Diego de Alvear Y Ponce de Leon.  He was born November 13th, 1749, in Mantilla Spain, his birthday was just four days after mine. He spent his career in the Spanish Navy and engaged in conflict in the Philippines during the 1700’s and against the Portuguese in Montevideo in 1775.  Alvear was part of the joint Spanish-Portuguese commission that drew up the border between the Spanish and Portuguese colonies in 1783, In 1794 he was promoted to the rank of Captain.  In 1807 Alvear was named Commandant of Cadiz. The treaty of San Ildefonso in 1777 had established boundaries between the Spanish and Portuguese colonies.  In 1783 as part of the commission to define those boundaries in more detail, Alvear traveled to the New World and visited throughout what are today Paraguay, Uruguay and Southern Brazil.  He wrote extensively about the Guarani Indians, the Jesuit Missions and the natural history of the region.  His writings had become an important source of Colonial Latin America.  The book was titled Relacion Geografica e Historica De La Provinica De Missiones and published in 1836.  Alvear decided to return to Spain in 1804, but a British fleet attached his squadron, sinking the ship carrying his family and drowning his wife and seven of his nine children.  He was briefly imprisoned in London before being released to return to Spain.  Alvear was promoted to Brigadier General.  Diego de Alvear y Ponce de Leon died in Madrid on January 15, 1830.

With this information I felt I had stumbled upon something and I could remember the older’s man’s word, “We will find you”.  I thought maybe they had. As I read the brief paragraph describing his life, I cried reliving the anguish he must have felt when he watched the ship his family was on sink, drowning everyone except for his son Carlos.

Something just rang true, it felt right and I just couldn’t stop.   I printed out everything I could in English and Spanish and then it seemed as if I hit a brick wall.  There wasn’t anymore information.   It had seemed that the research the begun over a course of two years had come to a dead end.

Now that I was finally settled in my house in Rosarito, I thought this would be a good time to start my story again.  As I reviewed all the printed material I had brought with me, it was there before me, the missing piece.  The name of the only other person who lived when the ships sank, Carlos Antonio De Alvear, Diego’s son.

I thought this confirmed my vision, the other person was my brother or so I thought when I first saw the vision.  They had found me like they said.  But why? I  had felt for a long time that I was the daughter of the older man and possibly the younger man was my brother or fiancé.  I had no knowledge of him or where he might be, whenever I looked into someone eyes I wondered if it might be him.  Then I began to get different feelings, maybe there wasn’t a fiance.  Maybe I was searching for the wrong person.

Then while researching my characters again on the Internet, at Amazon.com, I found The History of Diego De Alvear, a book written by his daughter Sabina Ward.  Diego had married a second time and had ten more children.  The book was located in Argentina by a book dealer who dealt in books of antiquity.  The book was published in 1891 in Madrid.  That was where Diego died on January 15, 1830.  I quickly ordered the only remaining copy, it would take a month to arrive from Argentina.    A little later I began to research Carlos Antonio de Alvear and found one book published in 1955 about his life, I immediately bought that one too.   It seemed to me that things were being revealed, but why now?  Slowly it was coming, as I spent more time thinking about it about the story. I went to Amazon.com and punched in the name Manuel Antonio.  A book of South American stories came up and on the cover a woman wearing the hat and white dress I had seen in the vision and a man was whispering into her ear.  It gave me a shiver up my spine. I bought that one too.  Soon my story would come to life whether I liked it or not.  I would know if this was the family from my vision.  The three books I ordered would arrive during the next month.

That night I had a dream about a man and a language I didn’t recognize, but understood.  I followed him into the water, trusting without fear.  He was a tall man with hazel eyes and silver hair and a very gentle nature.  I thought I was in Mexico, I thought he was speaking Spanish, I understood him, but realized he wasn’t speaking Spanish.  Then there weren’t any words, I just knew what he was saying.  We were going somewhere.   I had nothing with me,  No belongings, we were going to meet a boat. We were standing on a long wooden pier.  When we reached the water, the boat was on the other side, the man jumped in and started to swim and I jumped in after him.  When I reached the boat my hand was bleeding and I held it up with blood running down my arm.  A man’s hand reached down to help me on the boat, I couldn’t see his face, then I stirred in my sleep and the dream was gone.  Then in that twilight state just before you wake, I was laughing and playing with someone we were happy.  I woke up,  I never saw his face but I knew it wasn’t the man I followed into the water. I felt peace.

I needed time to myself for contemplation, a place where others couldn’t stand in my way. I needed to think things through carefully.  The demands on my life in past few years had been high, giving me scant time for reflection.  I knew I had a gift for understanding the larger implications involved, I needed to have private time to consider the steps to take in the future.  I couldn’t just lock myself up for fifteen minutes and expect to come up with profound solutions.  I needed more seclusion and time to assimilate and process.  I thought maybe this would be a good time to tell everyone that I wanted to be alone and when I was ready I would be able to give others what they needed.  It would require a personal investment and sacrifice.  I was willing to go beyond privacy with a strong sense of individualism, to be sort of a guiding light for other people as they evolved with new beliefs and philosophies.

The next morning I decided to spend the day sitting in the sun.  I was basking in the sun, thanking God for the everlasting light, the remembering seem to come in waves.  I began to feel that once again I was on the right path, I could hardly wait for my books to arrive.  The one of the History of Diego de Alvear would need to be translated.  I could read Spanish, not ever really knowing why.  I knew this book would take quite a bit of time to translate, it was written in Antique Castellón Spanish , the book was one hundred and thirteen years old. 

I started thinking about where my life had taken me, I thought about past relationships, there were three in my life.  Why hadn’t they worked?  Were they a reflection of me any my inability to change the very thing in myself that I couldn’t stand in others.  Was each relationship a gift, a look in the mirror at self, an opportunity to grow?  I felt I needed to disentangle myself from a hopeless situation.  Was I being challenged to emerge from an almost hypnotic dependence on what used to be, the ghost and echo’s of paradise lost?  The emotional attachment to the pain of the past had occupied me long enough.  It was time to lay it and regret, to rest and gather energy to face the present.  I wanted so much to lift the emotional cloud so that I could experience joy in myself.

I had overcome negativity, it was something I couldn’t control or ignore.  It just brought on anger, and anger was my biggest enemy.  I had been close to my husband Richard, we spent over 8 years together, married for only one year, his infidelities left me feeling helpless, feeling like a doormat.  The anger was almost uncontrollable. It was the aftermath of that divorce that brought me to Mexico.

Then there was Eliot, he lied about everything, including the color of the socks he wore that day.  He had told me, he was going on a business trip and would be back in a  few days, I never saw him again, that was 25 years ago.  Was I lying to myself about my feelings, it just brought more anger.  Where was all the anger coming from.  I needed to remember and change my direction.

Of course my first love, Leo, I loved more than anyone. Leo was the father of my only son, I had Shane when I was 15.  Leo was seven years older than me.  I finished high school while living at home, we continued seeing each other during that time, we never married.  He wasn’t around much and I sought comfort elsewhere, he wouldn’t commit so I left. Sometimes I wondered if I had made the right decision. 

I was reaching inside myself to face my fears and anger.  Was I angry for drowning, like in the vision, was Diego angry for his responsibility of losing his children and wife, did he feel guilty.  Did he always see the faces of the ones he loved and lost?  Was that why he appeared in the vision. The vision was real, I was awake, it’s not made up, it really happened.

I let my mind wander that day. I thought about what it would be like to live in Argentina, Buenos Aires seemed ideal, close to the mountain for skiing, which I still loved to do.  I could travel home once a year to see my son Shane, spend Christmas, do some skiing and visit with my grandchildren.  In the summer Shane could come and visit, see the beautiful beaches and bring his children the possibilities were endless.  Finally peace came, as I sat back in my chair, the sun beating down on me and I declared that I was in heaven.  While sitting in the last of the few chosen rays of the sun, I wanted to laugh feel happiness like in my dream.  Jumping into the water, no fear, just follow wherever he went.  The sun dropped down behind the courtyard wall and the light was gone.  I felt a great release as tears welled in my eyes.  I needed to study my options and make a choice that I was willing to live out every day.  Carefully considering my best long term interest.  There were no judgments on what to assemble from the array of possibilities before me.  I just needed to care, as the consequences of this choice would be coloring my life for years to come.  I must reach a place where my intuition agreed with my rational intellect and stick to the commitment I made and act with conviction.  Were my Angels speaking to me again?

That evening after sunset, I took the dogs for a long walk on the beach.  I sat and stared out at the stars, they twinkled like diamonds, I knew that I had not been forgotten and I was not alone.  The search was over, they would find me.  Tears fell across my cheek, there was no more pain only happiness and peace.  As I watched the waves crashing below where I sat, I felt the sea pulling at me, the sea that once claimed my life.

That night when I went to bed, I felt I had finally accomplished something.  Sleep came fast and hard.  I slept without stirring, until very early in the morning just before dawn.  I had a feeling that someone was holding me tight through the night and that I wasn’t alone.  Not quite awake I began to dream of someone happy, laughing a time before that I had forgotten.  When I finally woke up and the dream was gone, I was left with a feeling that maybe I wasn’t a daughter who died, but Diego’s first wife.  When I had seen the vision, I had been very young and the man in the vision was old.  I was now 43, could it be that when I saw him, I assumed because of his age he was my father?  I was not alone, I felt a peace that I hadn’t felt before.  The other man could be Carlo Antonio my son or who else could it be? 

I didn’t have to look anymore, I would be found when the time was right.  I began to see the end of my story, giving up the search for my beloved living the rest of my life in peace, finishing the book.  I imagined the end of the story, “Then one evening while she was walking her dogs, a man was standing at the gate to her house.  It was just after dark, she couldn’t really see his face, just his shape.  As she got closer, she said “Hello”, and he replied “Do you remember me”?  When their eyes met, he said Isabel?  She replied Diego.”

~ by clairedelores on May 14, 2008.