From time to time I like to post about things that go on at the NCC. Specifically, when special events occur- both personal and community wise- that give me a push in the right direction.


For the last little bit I have been ill- both with physical/medical ailments that can never seem to be identified by doctors- and with personal issues that include employment [or rather lack thereof], and general social/personal goal issues. I don't complain about this issues because I think it's childish- pointless, and in all honesty? Self absorbed. Either I deal with it, or I don't deal with it- but make a decision and DO something. Complaining is for children.
And when I think I hit a low, something happens to remind me of my ways.

There is an old saying that goes- The guardian guards us all, but who is it that guards the guardian?
My MM would remind me that on many occasion when it felt as if I was dispensing "wisdom" [yah right] to everyone who came to seek us, and yet my needs were left unattended to at the end of the day. "You need to get yourself a husband" was his response, and I would counter "Why- that's just ANOTHER thing I'd have to take care of!" he would laugh and counter that a good man would be the one more preoccupied with me and his family then himself, and that a good wife would preoccupy herself with her husband and family over herself- therefore building a web of love in the family. no one cares for themselves, but rather the other.
But alas, no male can tolerate me, so off I went back home to mom.
And always the question remind- who guards the guardian?

Now, for those not playing the home game- the symbol to which I am associated with has primarily only ONE function. It’s a guide/guardian. That's it. A teacher that leads people on the right path- but it itself only posses the power to guid and guard. Simply put, I listen to people’s problems, and tell them the best course of action. I givue advice. And this doesn’t mean I TELL them what to do, simply, I analyze their issue to a T and make them realize what it is that they truly want. The more I know, the more people I can help. It’s a guiding way. No hocus pocus, no "I dance naked in the wind and speak to the bears"- it's a very down to earth "I have a problem- let's hear it" scenario.
So the question remind? Who do I turn to?
Well, at the time, I would turn to my MM. But as time progressed, I moved about and around, and he went off to other ventures- I lost my ear of compassion. Sadly, we live in times that older folk- even teachers unrelated to cultural affairs- don't lend a listening ear. Too much "people will take it in the wrong way" or "I don’t' have time right now" or "I have my own worries/issues/family to deal with" and that little piece of human compassion in our societies leave- that little bit that says "I will help you even if I have problems myself" or more so- "I will take the time to listen".

So who do I turn to? The one that guards the guardian.

Ask them whatever you want, and they will tell you the same- Edlers have always said to turn to the stories. Oral traditions- the supernatural beings that because of them we are here. Look to the higher powers that guide us. Look to the things that "keep us" on an individual basis.

I have 2 Ways, one helper, and 2 younger brothers.
Each have their distinct stories, and their lessons I had to learn [culturally] and apply them when asked or requested. I tend to the issues of those who are my younger siblings, and also cherish the lessons, medicines, and stories they gave us.
Form time to time, one of them pops back up to he forefront to remind me of a lesson, or to remind me that they are THERE for the purpose of help.

And so today, I will speak to you about my Nagual's younger brother- Ocelotl.

I was born on Tochtli-Quiahuitl-Quiahuitl-Tlazolteatl . I was born and on a special day of the year- influenced by Cihuateteo- when the twins would stand at the crossroads and guide the souls of women who died in childbirth, and the warriors fallen in battle to the next realm.
My Nagual- discovered by a Medicine Women of Aztec-Huichal native decent, correlated with the 2 day variance of my birthrate- also the stone I was born under and favored the most, and my Day sign the guardian of his younger brother- Ocelotl.

And since I have been ill, I simply indulge myself with speaking to all my close relations to keep me focused- or rather discover what I need to be focusing on. But sometimes, in heading everyone’s advice, you forget to ask the person who can help you the most.

This all started when a couple of weeks ago, I had told a co-worker of mine the story of Ocelotl. He was asking what was my favorite story, as he himself an oral Story teller. I had said that amongst my favorite- possibly the one which was my most favorite, was Ocelotl. He remarked how the only image that strikes him over and over in Aztec culture, was the one with a well adorned/garbed man, holding the body of a dead woman. I said "THAT'S OCELOTL!"
I then was asked to indulge in the story, and tell him the tale. And I did. Right after, he had told me how not a few days prior; there were some South American vendors that came to a function- and with them, for sale, a fan made of the feathers of a red parrot. This, the most associated symbol with Ocelotl's wife. I flipped out, and promised myself that I would pay whatever they wanted to get that fan- if I could ever find them that is.

Well, since then, that story and its symbols pop up here and there and whenever. The more ill I became, somehow the more they would pop up.
Today at the center, I was helping to work in the store- and my co-worker was set to tell some stories- as he is the Storyteller that comes specifically for this event. However, while he comes on Monday, today it just so happened that he came for another session. We had visitors at the center. Central American Natives- they were celebrating the birth of a child- the first after the Grandfather’s passing. I was asked to retell the story at the event because of it’s profound standing in the culture. I couldn’t refuse because it’s an honor to be asked, and not something one can refuse culturally- so I stood in front of 50+ people, some who didn’t even speak English- and told the story of Ocelotl.

Near the end, I myself teared up at the telling of Ocelotl’s despair, and after I had finished, I did receive an applause and big whopping- so at least I did it well.
The grandmother of the mother who’s child was being celebrated came to ask me a few questions. She didn’t speak a word of English, but her daughter translated the praise she game my telling- that she knew exactly what had been said even if the words were foreign. I had done a good job. And after, she began to ask me where I knew the story from and the like- polite things like that. She then pried into my personal state of affairs- how am I feeling, am I married, why do I look ill… all these had to be answered honestly- there is NO lying to an Elder.
So she ended up hearing the current situation of my affairs. The whole load. I felt bad because it was a celebration- and not one that I was related to- but as most Native cultures dictate- when given a gift, you must give back twice fold in value- it’s a matter of pride, dignity, and your self worth. The old Grandmother then told me that the Grandfather we were celebrating- her pate husband- was in adoration of the parrots in the forest of their home land. And he too adored the story of Ocelotl for the same reasons I did- nothing happens by coincidence, only synchronicity. And she then gave me a gift – she promised me that my life will be full of opportunities that will bring me my happiness and my artistic endeavors, as well as a husband [ha!]. She gave me the gift in the form of a Red Parrot Feather- which she produced from a small flat cloth she was carrying. She then instructed everyone [privately] to give me the feathers, so that each feather would symbolize an opportunity, and I would have more than I could do with. The dominant amount I received were all red. Red parrot feathers like Ocelotl’s wife. I received 3 turquoise ones form 3 men who were also people of my Nagual’s kind, and giant blue feathers from those who wanted to give me different opportunities that I might not consider/pursue otherwise on my own accord.
I think I have well above… 30-50 feathers. All iridescent, mostly red.
Who Guards the Guardians? The Elders that remember them.

And the moral to be reminded- this wasn’t the first time I was in the midst of some desperate life conundrum, and that I was being blatantly hit in the face with a reference to this story. In fact, the first time something extravagant happened, I was called by my Medicine Woman and was reminded of something I had forgotten (and this time, yet again) that Ocelotl has a soft spot for women because of the origin of his wife. And I should have remembered this. REMEMBERED THIS.

So now I am sitting in my room, with a bag full of feathers- and will use the feather box I received awhile ago to house them. I’ll also be using this as a sign for my course of actions to come.