Calm In the Mist of Chaos

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Photo taken at 233rd St, The Bronx, NYC

Standing at the platform edge in a tunnel, a man with a blue knitted hat leans over the edge to check if a train is coming. Only darkness is seen, he steps back and shifts his weight to his left leg. He looks around and sees the long faces of his fellow train riders, waiting, as they type away on their mobile phones, one woman looking at her face from the front camera. He shifts his weight to the other leg, something pinches him in his pocket. As he reaches in, he frowns questioningly at a half bent paper clip. The screeching of iron on the tracks grabs his attention as a train pulls into the station. The people and the man gather by the train door, they make a small opening for people coming out.

The train car is filled with all types of people, lucky for the man he’s entered a train that has no air conditioning. A small baby crying in the distance from discomfort, laughing teenagers discussing Pokemon cards, a woman with a disgusted look on her face — most likely from the heat. Holding on to a tiny portion of the handrail, an asian woman with a large backpack rocks back and fourth hitting his chest. The man’s frustration slowly escalates as there is no where for him to move to, no air to breathe. He notices the tension in his right ankle as he stands awkwardly to keep his balance— the train swaying this way and that way. The smell of armpits in the air, he tries hard not to breathe too deeply. Swirling the paper clip in his other hand he hears angry chatter of how hot it is in the train, as if it’ll make it any cooler he thinks to himself. He closes his eyes.

He feels the thinness of the paper clip, following the curves with his thumb, the muscles in his shoulders release as they drop a little. Slowly his feet position themselves in a way that he’s able to keep perfect balance— slowly moving the paper clip between his pointer and middle finger. He begins to see a light pouring out of his chest like a small waterfall, bouncing off the ground, the light flows, filling up throughout the train car. The light streams out of the windows, like fire blowing in the wind. A puncture of light comes out of his back, flooding the train car more. The white light, seeping through the connecting doors, finds its way, filling up each of the ten train cars. He can see the entire train as it appears to be blaring down the tracks, spraying white light at each station. Ripples of light radiating from his body, each person drenched in brilliant white light. He feels tingles in his toes as his fingers on the handrail loosen.

The man opens his eyes. Only four people are in the train car, lips hanging from their face, fast asleep. He realises he missed his stop. He looks down to see the paper clip on the floor, no longer bent but in its perfect form. He sits down, picks up the paper clip and rides the train until the end of the line, allowing his day to end when it feels like it.

How Quickly Life Can Change

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Photo taken near the country side of Mottisfont, UK

Of all the many little things I’ve noticed in England, driving has stood out the most to me recently. Not that fact that they drive on the left, but how drivers don’t heed to the people walking. This of course increases your awareness when crossing the street, however, it made me reflect on how your life could end in an instant.

Taking a shower one day, I came to a strong realisation— a lot are buzzing around these past few days and weeks— that we are living so tightly to our rules, standards and how we want things to go specifically, all for it to just disappear when we die. Some of you may think this will turn out to be some cheesy blog about living your life to the fullest and such, but the hell with that. Take a good look at life, go outside and just look. Watch carefully how some people walk right out into oncoming traffic, how some walk directly to the crosswalk and wait until that blaring beep noise goes off in order to make it across the street safely — its like that in England. I know, I know, it’s for the blind, but I think it’s more for the seeing. I have to question: What the hell are we doing in life? More importantly, what in the hell am I doing in life?

Asking myself these questions throughout my life, I’m trying so hard to do the things I love to do in my life. Doing my mediations, staying focused, keeping myself light, calm and clear in order to reach the goals I set for myself. However, many reasons are floating around in the cosmos as to why I haven’t been able to do what I love with full force. I honestly just don’t want my life to end without doing everything I can to make it the best. Also the chronic urge to help people within my reach and send out love to all — the low key humanitarian in me. Well, even that isn’t going as well since many backs have turned.

Writing this, I’m thinking how this is turning more into a journal entry than a blog. I know for a fact that many who may come across this writing may have been asking themselves the same questions. Of course they’re answers, but no one can give them to you other than you. As for me, I understand the old ways of thinking are falling away, transitioning into new ones. Facing my fears and breaking new ground is really showing me the possibilities of reaching what I want in life. They’re becoming more and more apparent, kind of like when a shark shows it’s dorsal fin on the surface of the water— you know it’s a shark! As the situations, people and opportunities in life, they’re there, right below the transparent surface. How interesting it is to have to go through so many experiences and meet so many people in order to do the very thing you’ve desired from childhood. I consistently think: what a waste of time. Then, realise when you do get to the destination, it was a great ride to get there and all you want to do is go on the ride again.

Kambô; From Poison to Medicine: Session 2

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Photo taken right after session 2, the dark spots over the dots are dragons blood

After doing the first Kambô session (Kambô; From Poison to Medicine: Session 1), four weeks passed before doing the second session. During those four weeks, several new aspects of awareness were, let me say, activated.

Three days after the first session, the energy level in my body increased. I would wake up every morning feeling refreshed and brand new. My mind had less chatter, it felt like I was sitting in an open field with a cool breeze blowing on me. Meditations were deeper and more enriching, as well as my ability to do shadow work and heal my emotional bodies; there was certainly a huge shift taking place. Integrating these aspects of myself opened up so many feelings, discoveries and mysteries I had been trying to find answers to for many years. I just didn’t think it would take me getting married to an English woman, moving to England, doing Kambô and finally reaching these depths of myself, as I had thought I would be able to do it on my own in NYC. However, life does its thing, where you must go through certain experiences before gaining new knowledge. The following weeks leading up to the second session of Kambô seemed to go by very quickly. There are other blogs that cover the types of meditations I did, The Inner Children and The Inner Children 2.

Back in the same room as the first session, the day was filled with sun and warm energy. It was nice to have the yellow rays of light coming in through the window to join us as we sat on the floor waiting for the practitioner to finish his preparations. There were fewer people now, my wife and I decided to sit a little closer to the beginning of the line, as we wanted to have more time to relax after the session was over. This time around, my wife went before me and I got to see her go through the process, which was nice. The Kambô seemed to be going through people’s system a lot faster that day. My wife turned ultra red only after the first dot of medicine was applied— I thought: “Here comes the roller-coaster ride!”

I drank my six pints of water and went up to where the practitioner was waiting for me; eleven dots burned into my left arm. The first piece of medicine was placed, I waited, taking in a deep breath, listening for my heart beat to begin echoing. I looked up slightly, earlier they had closed the curtain over the large windows, but a streak of sunlight was shining through the top of the room. I looked closely at the dust floating in the light and suddenly I felt so wonderful in my body. Heat rushed over me like I was putting a winter coat on, heart fluttering like an orange and black butterfly on a summer morning. I inhaled deeply and visualized pulsating rainbow colored light coming off my body, it was unbelievable how great I felt. Once all of my eleven dots were covered with the medicine, I went back to my spot next to my wife, placing my bucket between my legs. I slowly rocked, side to side, as I could feel the swaying energy in the room. Two helpers sat with me, one in front of me fanning palo santo, the other, on my right with her left hand on the middle of my back. I had more awareness around me more than the first session. I could almost respond better as well — then it hit me. It felt like a napkin absorbing water, it wasn’t a nice feeling; that’s when I knew it was time for work. I shifted my body several times so that I could purge properly and not lean awkwardly. Suddenly I could hear a rattle instrument behind me. I opened my eyes slightly and I could see it was the practitioner, I also saw my wife almost completely recovered, smiling gently at me.

Having eleven dots meant there was going to be much deeper work, and it sure felt like it. After I purged every ounce of water out of my stomach, the practitioner removed the Kambô and things started to feel like they were under control again, although I still felt a bit heavy as I think I had more to purge but couldn’t. I laid on my mat for a long while, my body temperature dropped and I felt like I had just run twenty miles. I definitely felt the complete opposite than at the beginning of the session. Uneasiness left with me that day.

In two weeks will be the final Kambô session and I will write about what I went through leading up to then. Any further questions please leave them in the comments blow. Until then, be good.

Authenticity and Blogging

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Photo taken in Dominican Republic

Throughout the last eight days, I have been participating in a thirty-day blog challenge with a close friend of mine from NYC. With each blog I’ve worked hard to produce pieces of writing that are authentic and close to me, however, some online magazines that republish blogs and articles have told me that one of the blogs I sent them for submission was in too much of a “bloggy” tone. Until this day I have no idea what that means, but it does raise alarm bells in my mind.

Being overall grateful to even get this kind of reply, I had to really think about my style. I strive to be as authentic as I can, writing in a way so that it feels like I’m speaking with you face to face. My favorite book, “Hector and the Secrets of Love,” has the style closest to what I want to achieve in my writing. The whole reason I decided to take on this blogging challenge is to practice how to use words in the best possible way. For the longest time, I believed my writing was the most horrible thing on the planet, and that my imagination can go far beyond the limitation of grammar and punctuation. However, being a film-maker and wanting to write my own scripts, I had to focus on creating texts that touch people’s hearts in a way that films can’t do.

I’ve spent a lot of time in my life being different and standing out; from presenting Japanese as a language portfolio in high school in order to graduate— Spanish being the only language taught at the time— to marrying my wife and taking her last name. I continue to ask myself: how authentic can I be when I do anything? As the years go by, it’s becoming harder and harder to be very different in a world filled with people all doing the same thing. Nonetheless, I still find some way to surprise myself and the people around me.

Blogging is certainly not an easy thing, especially on a daily basis. Spending a lot of time daydreaming, I tend to create things in pictures more than textual concepts. For so long, I’ve been training my awareness in order to take these daydreams and turn them into films, which was challenging enough. Now, bending my mind to be more aware of the philosophical concepts going on in my mind and translating it into text is new territory I’m venturing into. For those who know me, they would say I have a certain kind of wisdom to me. Blending the elements of blogging, visuals, philosophical concepts and wisdom into a 500 to 2000 word document without boring the reader sounds right up my alley for achieving authenticity and distinguishment — the joy of making my own words.

Only a few more days (21) until this challenge is over. I’m not exactly sure if I’ll keep writing every day after that but I’ll be sure to type away with a new heightened state of awareness. The keen desire for authenticity in all the things I do really drives my creativity and motivates me in life, and, it’s a fine time to take control and embrace this hidden talent in me. No need to worry, you have talents too, and they’ll be there until you are ready to see them.

True Stories: A Milkshake

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Disclaimer: The following story happened a year ago in NYC.

For some reason after watching a T.V. show, I wanted to have a milkshake. After countless stomach pains I got from having milkshakes in the past, I was a bit reluctant about the idea of going through the discomfort. However, I still wanted to experience the sensation of sipping on a strawberry shake through a straw while watching more shows on Netflix. I decided to take a trip to Burger King, which was right across the street from where I lived.

Standing in line, all I thought about was the agony I was going to feel after drinking it. I questioned myself: Why in the hell am I getting this if I all I’m going to do is suffer after? As I was about to turn around and leave, I remember a experiment that Dr. Masaru Emoto did involving how thoughts, words and music change the molecular structure of water in both positive and negative ways; I wanted my milkshake to have as much positivity as possible so my stomach wouldn’t suffer. Since the people making the milkshake were behind the counter and did not have enough time to attach words to the cup or play music, I’d have to get positivity into it from a different angle. I figured if I got the people preparing the milkshake to do so with a positive intention then I could get what I wanted. But, how exactly could I do that?

Approaching the counter, still not sure about what to do, I asked for my milkshake but then proceeded to ask: “Can you put some extra love in it please?” The woman behind the counter looked me straight in the eyes and said, “What’s love?” I made a bewildered face and said, “You don’t know what love is?!” The woman snickered and looked over to another woman at the drive-thru window. She called out to her and the woman looked back at her. “Do we have love here?” she asked jokingly. The people behind me started to laugh, I tried to keep a serious face as I was determined to get love into my milkshake. The woman by the drive-thru said “I don’t know what that is.” The woman behind the counter laughed out loud, then walked off to find another person in the back. She continued to ask if there was any love in the store and everyone replied questioningly. Everyone behind the counter was smiling, their faces revealing a bit of confusion. I thought to myself, I must be the craziest person to ask such a thing; my arm pits filled with sweat.

From all the smiling and lighter movements the people behind the counter were making, I wasn’t exactly sure if I achieved what I wanted— but they sure couldn’t stop talking about it. I stood there the entire time it took for my milkshake to get into my hands, sarcastic remarks flapping around the room, like a sea lion at sea-world. Even other customers had joined in and were joking about how they wanted love in their food too.

It wasn’t until later, drinking my milkshake at home and watching my T.V. shows that I realised that it did taste a lot better. Also, after a few days I noticed I didn’t have the usual harsh stomachache like I always did. I wonder if it paid off doing what I did. Or maybe, it was all in my head.

A Letter to my Teenage Self

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Photo, courtesy of a junior high school friend.

Dear Kevin,

    This letter may seem very weird, but I am writing you from seventeen years in the future.  Noooooo, this isn’t a random person, I’m actually you.  I chose to write you, at your current age of fifteen, because it’s the time where you’re starting to wake up from your depression.  You may not understand fully what I’m saying, but you’re becoming more aware of yourself and doing slightly better in school — after witnessing your mother cry over your ongoing low grades.  This is also the time where you’re writing more poetry and in love with a girl who wants nothing to do with you.  
    I’m writing you because there are a few things I’d like you to do for me.  The first, is to never stop loving people the way you do.  I know it’s very difficult as you are trying the best you can to get the attention of the girls your age, it seems all the stuff you’ve learned from watching romantic movies isn’t working.  However, I’d like you to keep doing what you’re doing with full confidence.  It’s important because your heart is magnificent and brilliant — it may not seem that way to others but trust me, later on you’ll see that it really is.  Second, I want you to really pay attention to the people who you’re reaching out to.  Many of them will push you away, others will use you for your kindness, again, keep doing what you do with full confidence.  Help those people, be there for them with an open heart.  They won’t say it, but they do honestly appreciate what you’re doing for them and with this pay close attention to how YOU feel about them.  You’ve already doubted yourself about certain things and people, and it cost you.  That day you got punched in the face and chipped your tooth is a result of not listening to your instinct to walk faster with your friend.  I’m not saying that to make your feel bad, just to jog your memory of a time not so long ago.  Third, I need you to not beat yourself up about being shy.  This trait will prove useful in the future, but for now, accept it as a part of who you are and when you hear the small voice inside urge you towards certain people who you can talk to; go for it!  Fourth, is that small voice.  I know you can hear it and a lot of the time you want to rebel against it.  That’s fine, rebel all you want, however, lets play a game.  For all the times you listen to that voice, note how often you feel good after following it, and, note how bad you feel from not listening to it.
    Lastly, I want to leave you with some words that may seem weird to you: I love you!  The element you’ll probably block out from messages  around you is self love.  Remember that I love you, seventeen years into the future.  I also know what you’re thinking: I’m not telling you anything to avoid or change, but believe me, from writing this to you it’s the result of going though the things you are about to go through and for that; we wouldn’t want to change it.  Keep your head held high and stay confident, things can’t get any worse than they already are.  Trust me.



P.S.  
    As a matter of fact, from May until the end of June 2003, DO NOT eat Chinese food.  Yeah, I changed my mind.



                                            With Love,
                                            Future Kev  

The Healing Pond

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Photo taken in Southampton

Laying on my back on the sofa, I allow the muscles in my hips, shoulders and thighs to melt into the surface of the cushions; my legs sway a little as they naturally stop in their place. The tension behind my eyes are released, the feeling of peace reverberates to the centre of my body. Rising and falling, the air in my chest flows instinctively— slowly inhale, slowly exhale. My fingers slide apart into the sofa, the palms of my hands become soft as of a lovers graze. A gentle breeze, from no where, runs up my arm as the conjoined quiver slides down my spine; a large exhale.

As I sink deeper into myself, I begin to visualise a small pond surrounded by firm palm trees; the lines in their trunks are profound and distinct. The water is forming soft ripples, gliding along the surface, as if being combed by the wind. I walk slowly towards the pond and look down into it; blue light emanating from the bottom. My curiosity takes control as I try to get a clearer look at what’s there— diving into the water. Bubbles of all sizes form around my body, a bleak grey steam dissolves off my skin into the water, I’m rotating my arms to propel me into the depths of the pond.

Plunging through the mist, the blue light becomes more refine, revealing a cluster of very large clear quartz crystals— covering the entire floor of the pond, their pointed tips facing up towards me. I float in suspension, bewildered by the amount of crystals before me. The energy they emit sends tingles throughout my body. The vibration leaving me paralysed, my body starts to drift. Losing my poise, my back is pointed towards the crystals. The blue light beginning to enter the pores of my left arm, seeping into my cells, causing them to glow white. Lines of white light extend to my heart as it circulates through my body; the incandescent light encased my entire being.

Starting from my feet going up, my body becomes fragmented. Tiny balls form as they start to vibrate faster and faster and clash into each other vigorously. From where my head used to be, a crystallized head starts to form. My crystal-quartz-transparent-human-body floats in the middle of the pond, glowing yellow aura a few inches away from me, as I attempt to move my finger tips.

I breathe steadily as I move my toes and stretch my arms. I am recreated in higher vibration; my body feeling smooth and silky against the sofa. I slowly open my eyes and bring myself back to my reality, ready to share this new energy with the world.