Manataka American Indian Council









Point of no return

By Carol Petersen, Elk Looks Back


(Continuation of story Eyes That Listen)




The ego is smashed with crushing blows from all directions by inside and outside forces. Consciousness is at the peak of awareness the moment we shift from the perception of me to the awareness of we. It is the dark night of the soul. We confront the enormity of helplessness. Space and time are suspended.  In the void, the mind is rebooting.  Streams of thoughts are reversing and processing upon the screen of your matrix.  This is the impersonal life cresting upon the wave of Creation.  We are dissolving and your heart seed is pumping to survive. We need not fear death just relax into being nothing.  I am not worried about dying.  I am worried about loving and how can love find me if I am not vulnerable to it, if I am not transparent?


I flew to Managua, Nicaragua in November 2001.  I was excited to see my brother Sam who was there to greet me. We drove to Masatepe, the place of the Deer.  The birthplace of my Mother is a colonial village with high walls built around verdant courtyard gardens. When a mist of rain falls it means that a deer is being born.


I visited Mom's first cousin, Adelia.  She waited for me in a garden sitting against a yellow ochre wall with fuchsia colored bougainvilleas.  A gentle mist fell giving a shimmering gleam to everything. There was a blue and gold macaw in a cage squawking. I sauntered towards her and she greeted me with Om Namah Shivaya. I had not seen or spoken with her in 36 years.


I was initiated into the *Siddha yoga lineage of Swami Muktananda in the early 1980's.  I had an attraction to the principals of eastern consciousness yet had a hard time following the guru. I told Cousin Adelia, I received a spiritual name from him. She spoke it out of her lips. I was stunned. How could she know my eastern medicine name? Then the question came one after the other.  “What are you doing to make a difference in the world,” she spoke.


My brother and I took the ferry from Rivas to Ometepe. Lake Granada is the twentieth largest lake in the world and the only freshwater lake to have sharks in Nicaragua. It bears an archipeligo of islands. One island is called Ometepe and has two active volcanoes. We met a couple of backpackers in love.  He was from Puerto Rico and she was from Brazil.  They met at a massage school in Mendicino County, Northern California.  It was close to my birthday and Jorge invited us to their home to eat the catch of the day.  They rented a one bedroom house along the shore near the Hotel Paraiso.


The swell of the waves lapped rythmically upon the shore.  A harp eagle majestically landed on a piece of scattered driftwood. Ometepe resembles the Isle of Avalon, a mythical and mystical island.


After our dinner of fish, french fries and lime slush drinks, the four of us were comfortably standing outside.  I moved away from their conversation and looked at the starry sky.  Suddenly I was confronting patterns in cloud colored white.  A matrix of intersecting lines creating crisscrossing patterns were disappearing as fast as they were changing. I was mesmerized.  The web like patterns suddenly ceased  to reveal twenty-five to thirty saucer shaped space ships hovering as if they were in a spatial port. 


In 1983 I was told by an intuitive, you are a Star Nations air traffic controller.  You will be the bridge guiding space ships to land on earth.  Could they be the fleet  I had been told I was to guide?


Instinctively, I called out to my brother and our hosts to have a look but they could not see them.  I was quick to make a communication with them as I took on the responsibility of guiding them.  I suggested we hold hands to form a focus on the sound liken to a chord of light. There was no resistance to my suggestion.  We settled in chairs to make the universal sound of creation, OM as I had been taught.


"Ok that is done," I said.  We thanked our new friends and star nation elders then walked back to Hotel Paraiso.  I unfolded the hammock, stretched it out to hook on to the pole, climbed in and swung hanging above a carpet of fireflies.  A young man came with  towels and, stood by me looking into my face.  He leaned over and kissed me on the lips as if to say, “job well done.”  Just to make sure I was not dreaming,  I reached up and took his t-shirt in my hand and pulled him down for one more.    


The next day we headed back to Masatepe to make arrangements for our drive along the Pan-American Highway back to California.  I suggested that we stop at the Pyramids of Palenque and Teotihuacan in Mexico. We had many adventures at the pyramids. Vortexes were acknowledged, codices were decoded and energies of ancestral deities honored.


Years later, I had settled in the valley where I live and write,  I befriended a neighbor who clued me in, I am a E.T. traffic controller, he said. “Your kidding”, I said!   What are the chances, I thought. 



© All rights reserved 2007

Carol Elk Looks Back Petersen
Clan Mother, Deer Nation
Rainbow Medicine Blanket, Founder