I Come in Piece
Part Three
Los Angeles - June to September 2012
As soon as I stepped foot on LAX, my heart ached. What had I just done? I had never been to LA before. I was overwhelmed. I already wanted to go back to Hawaii "Trust. Play out the story"
The next night was the Bashar session. I knew I had to talk to him. I didn't have any questions that could be answered easily, I knew that. But this wasn't just for me, it was for the story. I put my name in the bowl for the first time at a Bashar session. Sitting in the audience as they were about to pick the names, I told them "I am only doing this if my name is the first out of that bowl, I don't even know why I am HERE dudes!" A feeling came over me that was a memory from my childhood. It was such a strong feeling. I was about 7. There was a lottery of my classmates to see who would get to be the class librarian for the season. It was a special job! You got to take down the list of books or topics that kids were interested in from the school library and then leave class to deliver the list to the school librarian so she could gather the books. This made it faster and easier for the kids to go into the library and get exactly what they wanted. I wanted this job BAD when I was a kid. I felt it, waiting to see if my name would be called. The detailed memory with such a vivid feeling attached to it, made me laugh. Any anxiety around the "need" or the "wanting" to be "the winner" vanished. Then Darryl pulled the first name out of the bowl "Gita Rose"
I don't think I was the first person up to the Mic. I don't really remember. I did not forward think or decide what I was going to say or ask. But I did bring my guitar up to the line with me. Thinking I might wish to sing. I got up to the mic. No word was spoken. Already I knew they knew who was at the mic. Darryl's mouth made the "teeth clicking sound" I remember my first gut thought was "what is that? why do you guys make that sound??" But before my mouth could formulate that question, I was speaking in a language that I had heard with the dolphins. It just came out. Excited and honest and pure. I am not sure of the direct translation of the language. It is a concept. An idea. An introduction to him as an equal, or even a being with a "higher soul status", a motherly figure. But always, first and foremost, a mirror. I thought, because I have had visions with the Sassani where a language is spoken, that this was their language. But I had only heard it far off, like under water. I knew in the moment, that I was slipping into a "character". I was playing a part. Like Bashar has said, something to the effect of, Can you see the person you want to be? Can you Imagine her? Well be her. Play her. So I did. I phrased my language in a way were I was attempting to keep my power and my "status" in the scene, as much as I could with what I do not know about the "greater story".
"Well, that is nothing like our native language" or something like that, said Bashar. "That is of a higher frequency dimensional realm, related to Sirius" Or something like that.
"Well, that would make sense, I started speaking it when I was with the dolphins."
I remembered there was so much feeling in this moment. I wanted to jump for joy. To hug him with love and compassion and simultaneously, I was so confused, sad and I suppose angry at Bashar for not helping me more to connect the dots of the full story. I saw the camera at other end of the "stage" I found comfort in its lens. I was channeling too in this moment, channeling myself. We are always "channeling" in that way. We are the curved piece of glass, made for reflecting. I allowed my mind to jump to whatever it could hold on to, it might not be "mine" I felt, I have the list from the class that I am taking to the librarian. Do I have implants - from "otherworldly" origins? My body starts to cry in the film, maybe she knows. But right now the personality has not decided what is "true" and she, the heart and the body can re-write what "was". I am also a trickster, as Bashar backs up in the video. I had landed in LA with out a plan and no place to stay. I used my language in a very precise and calculated manor. I purposely made it seem to the audience that it was possible I had just gotten off a space ship "I feel I have just landed here" "Well, in a way you have," Bashar plays along. I have just landed from Hawaii, and landing into myself. I asked the audience collectively if they wanted to "take home a hybridized kid" as if I was something, "special" I did this as a tactic to allow people to believe what they wanted to about me, and thought I might be more likely to have a place to lay my head for a few days while I figured out what I was going to do. I am not saying that this was a "good" thing for me to do. It was tricky. And it didn't "work". Well, not in the way that, then, I was hoping it would have.
Bashar implanted the information that I my over soul is connected to a being they refer to as Cybo. In their ancient language this means the number 13. The trickster archetype. The personification of ultimate transformation. I already knew this, not the "Cybo" name. But my soul knew this archetype. I had already started to have faint whispers from the wings of the Raven. The Death Tarot Card. 13. The harbinger of Death. I already knew I was a carrier for a frequency of information that most people, even within these circles are not "excited" to hear. I carry the shadow. I sat down back in my seat, a wave of the gravity of my role washed over me. I started to cry. Cybo and other trickster characters have long put on costumes to scare people, to trick them, to make them think, to look at the shadow. These characters play notes on both sides of the scale to find balance. I felt my host, my daemon, the side that must be set free, for it's not evil, it's the holy ghost. I got out of my seat and walked outside of Garland Hall. Crying hard, parts of me dying, parts birthing. I looked down at the ground and saw a 5 pointed star etched in the concrete. A different geometry. The kind of star you draw as a kid. The pentagram. The Hollywood Walk of Fame star. It soothed my soul. I felt the mother spirit rise through me. A power surge. I can do this. What ever THIS is?! I can do this. I entered back into the hall. A man who seemed like he worked for Bashar Communications saw my exit and emotional display, as I re-entered the hall he said to me, "Well, that was a quick recovery. That was fast, intense information you just got."
"Time is Money" I smirked. I thought it odd after I said it. But he warmly patted me on the back. And I returned back to my seat.
After the session, many people came up to me to introduce themselves to me, to thank me for my share. "Wow, I so appreciate your energy" "That language, wow, I feel so connected to it some how" No one asked me specific questions or tried to get the "true" story. But if I didn't know it, I wouldn't find those who were mirroring. No one asked me if I had found a place to stay, or invited me to their home. I was sad. I thought this was supposed to be a community. But I also understood and trusted that I would find exactly what I needed.
A girl my age came up to me. She was "what I am" whatever that "is". Can I show you something weird?? she asked me. Sure, "I love weird. I live for weird." I responded.
"I was just looking at this while I was standing in line waiting to get in tonight." She pulls out a sketch book from her messenger bag. "I drew it months ago. You got up to speak tonight, and I was like, holy shit!" She shows me a really good sketch of two girls. It is entitled "friendship" A blonde and a brunette hold each other in support. The brunette was me. She was dressed like me, all in black. Holes in her black leggings, a black tank top on, combat boots, and complete with a mohawk. She had the same facial structure and everything. Her arm was outstretched, she drew a spiral vortex through a wall, with her Will and her mind. Her blonde friend cradling her in support.
"This is you." She says to me. "And this girl" She points to the blonde in the sketch, "maybe you will meet her here."
I look again at the blonde girl. "woh... I know this girl! This is my friend, Jen. She was with me when This all started. She is actually moving down here in a few weeks."
"Oh, cool." the Artist says.
"No, you don't understand, this IS Jen. You drew her face perfectly. The mohawk girl is all kinds of me, the energy, the dress, but the blonde, it is Jen's face." I took out my phone to show the Artist a picture of Jen.
If the Artist thought the situation was weird before. It was through the roof now.
"Magic. Thank you." I said to her "I so needed this right now. And you are a very clear channel. Let's go show Darryl!"
We shuffled around, waiting for him to be free from conversation. "Yo! Check this out dude, You want to see something weird?" I say to him
He laughs "Of coarse, weird is my life"
"Me and this girl have never met, that we know of, she lives across the country. But look what she drew!" I also show him the picture of Jen so he can see just how accurate the Artist was in her sketch of the two of us.
He seemed genuinely taken aback, he smiled wide "wow...that is pretty cool.."
I was given a ride back to the hostel by a beautiful woman who had been a follower of Bashar for many years. She had a voice, I guess I will use the word, disability. It quavered and wavered, up and down in registers as she talked. I noticed, as all body "dis-ease", it was a direct reflection of her emotional state. The clarity and strength of her voice jumped drastically depending on what she was talking about. Her confidence and conviction with herself in certain areas lead to a strong voice. When she started to question herself and fall into a pattern that wasn't her truth, the voice would leave her. It was one of the most pure forms of expression I had ever seen. But she seemed unaware of how clearly she was designed. She questioned much about her self and so her pattern of strong to weak voice continued. She was a lovely mirror for me.
I honestly do not remember the next night's session. My memory lapses like this often.
The next day was the day that I thought I was "supposed to be there for" the "The UFO Witness Declaration" In my mind I thought the session was in the evening like the other two previous...I had met a really nice guy at a coffee shop the previous day who worked in the movie industry. He was in his early 30's. His dream was to be a screenplay writer, but he was also an editor and paid the bills editing trailers for major motion pictures. He took me out to lunch that Sunday afternoon. He told me his plans for the evening, even though he wasn't supposed to, but it was just too cool to hold in.
"I am getting flown up to San Fransisco tonight to personally deliver 'The Dark Knight Rises' trailer and movie. I get put up in a hotel and given a car too. My family lives there, I get to go have dinner with them. It's supposed to be 'top secret'. But whatever," He takes a bite out of his sandwich. "I can tell you, cause I am pretty sure you are like a secret agent too." Swallow. "And you are higher up than the guys I work for" He smirked at me.
I knew he was telling the truth about his job and going to San Francisco that evening. And I knew he was winking about the "secret agent". But in the same way I do with people. Playing the role, jesting with it, until it becomes "true", because it might already be so. This was the first time, to this degree that another trickster came out to play in my movie. What a scene stealer! But great fun to work with.
He dropped me off at the Garland Hotel, on a schedule to catch his flight, he left me with what I thought were hours to spare before the session. I walk up to the little outdoor seating area around the corner from the hall, it is quiet. Then there is Darryl, walking by getting some water. He looks at me kinda odd. I am unsure why. I kinda shrug and smile. I sit down in a padded wicker chair. I hear in my hearthead "You always are on your own time, but yet, kinda, Late. It's your fun with the Fate.
Huh? I realize something is...off.. I go around the corner and find several people trickling into the Garland Hall. The sign-in table is free of its lists and name tags. Oh shit...it was a morning session! I have arrived during the "break" I missed what I thought I was there for...for the disclosure talk. I walk into the hall, the first person I see is the Artist. We have made fast friends.
"There you are!" she runs up to me.
"I thought it was an evening session. Shit, I really wanted to be here for this."
"I think it was better you weren't." she bluntly says to me.
"What?"
"The channeling was...well......weird. It was weird. He presented this document that he would like us to spread over the internet. But we CAN NOT MAKE ANY CHANGES. It is created to hold a specific vibration. There was no encouragement for our own way, our expression of disclosure. It was weird. No imagination. I don't think you would have been able to hold your tongue. I think it would have been, well, even more, weird. And not good weird"
"Woh." I was stunned by her cander of speech.
"Yah. Where were you, anyway?"
"I was, out to lunch."
We both just laughed.
After the session, the Bashar Community group had food at a fancyish restaurant at the hotel. I don't know if it was an "official" Lunch With Darryl type thing or not. But me and the other youths at the "kid table" felt like we were crashing the party. Again, our table was round. The "adults" sat at a long rectangular table. I don't really remember conversation, it bounced fast between all of us. I told stories about the dolphins.
A really nice and smart guy from, I believe it was Central America, told me I could stay the night in his hotel room, it was big, he had an extra bed and it was no problem. His body was handicapped. I think he was in a wheel chair, I honestly don't remember. It didn't matter. The Spirit, Will, Heart and Mind were so strong. I do not remember his name. But I never forget a face, or a soul. My time at the hostel was up, I had been given no other offers over the weekend for a place to stay. I was so grateful. Thank you Friend.
As Darryl was exiting the restaurant patio, the youth group began their "thank-you's" and "goodbyes" One guy at our round table asked him, something along the lines of "Hey, so you started out making movies?"
Darryl responded with something like "No. I was an illustrator." He was serious. Stern. He seemed to look right at me. "An Illustrator" He repeated. I wasn't sure what to make of what was going on.
"Uh, oh, okay..cool" responded the questioner.
Then the beat of the scene shifted "Thanks you guys, so much." Darryl is professional yet loving "Enjoy the rest of your day" ....or something .... to the like of.
"Thanks you too!" "Bye!" "Buhbye" "Thank you" "Have a stellar one!" A chorus of phrases sing off as he walks off stage right.
"Did any one else think he was like super... intense when he said 'I was an illustrator'?" Asked the kid who asked him about the movies.
"Yah, that was weird" "mmhmm, I noticed that too" "Yah, what was with that?" another cannon circles the round table.
"And, Gita, he looked right at you when he said that." The movie questioner adds. The group nods and mumbles in agreement.
"He did, Thank you. I thought I was... imagining that"
My instincts lead me the next day to a Dharma Punx meeting in Santa Monica. Dharma Punx is a Buddhist meditation group that was started by author Noah Levine. He grew up as a punk rocker turned drug addict in Santa Cruz. His parents were well known meditation - boarder line "new age" teachers. He rebelled. Hard Core. Finally, as he was detoxing in rehab, he took the advise that is father had been giving him for years. Meditate. Breathe. In. Out. Count to Ten. When a thought comes in, cause it will, probably around four, start over. If you make it all the way. Start over. One to Ten. This simple exercise lead Noah down the road to recovery. He ended up studying Buddhism with the well known Jack Kornield at Spirit Rock Meditation Center. He now has his own center in Santa Monica and different branches around the country. The vibe is young, still punk rock, lots of tattoos, sober, and cool. I felt more comfortable with myself. What am I? I am fucking Human. Whatever that Is. I am this. I am these people. Here. I don't need labels. I need to sit on a pillow and breathe. I was honest with the community there, told them parts of my story, but in way that felt far more natural more my authentic self. I was able to be "punk rock" about it..
"Dudes, I was happy in Hawai'i, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking coming here. I think I have been programmed to serve some alien agenda. Or some shit."
"Oh, yeah, it's all an experiment. For sure. I got a couch you can crash on"
"Yeah, me too"
"Here's 20 bucks"
"uhh..here's some carrots and rice cakes? Hybrids are usually vegans?"
I stayed on a Dharma Punk's couch for two nights. I searched for work trades at hostels in Venice. No openings, No go's. They scared me any way. "Go to Mystic Journey Bookshop" I felt. I walk in and there is my friend Jen's new beau. We have met only once, but he is part of the web of the family. He gives me shelter in his "spaceship" Yup, the "spaceship" it is the name of his awesome van. He helps me print out resumes and helps me kick myself into action to get some foundation in the area. I get a job at a cafe on Abbot Kinney. Jen moves down to LA. The web expands. My friend from Marin County lives in LA too! I stay at his house for a night or so, he stores some of my things and even lends me a little money. Jen and the Gentleman move into their apartment together, I am graciously allowed the keys to sleep in the "spaceship".. Just as I am about to overstay my welcome a friend from Dharma Punx, offers me to stay at his apartment for 3 weeks while he is house sitting. I am beyond grateful. This will give me time to find a place to live. I find a room that I can afford, but my parents have to help me with the deposit. They have been worried about me, they want me to be safe. The love, guidance, help and friendship I received during this time is humbling to me, still today. Thank you, deeply, thank you.
I met a collaborator to work on music with, we were jiving good. He met a manager at a sports bar. The manager was legit.. he liked me and the music. We all made good fast friends. But my music collaborator and I were in the early stages of writing songs....so woah..hold your horses dudes! I worked two jobs, wrote music, started to network, and still desperately missed Hawai'i. LA gave me harsh anxiety. I always felt like I was being "watched" this was nothing new to me, but it was very close there, intense. I missed the mother. I felt as though I had not learned all I needed to in Hawai'i.
I began to get very stern with whatever possible ET energies I was intertwined with. If this is happening in the "classic" way. You show yourselves to me. You stand at the foot of my bed. Let me see your eyes hovering over me. Show me your Metal. I am Thomas the skeptic, and I want to poke the wounds.
I was meditating one day after practicing yoga in the apartment where I was living, my friend from Dharma Punx was one of the best yoga teachers I had ever met. He had gotten me back into my practice in a deep profound way. After a practice, I lay on my mat in corpse pose. I was pulled out of my body. I found myself in a stark white room. I was at a little metal table sitting in a cheap folding chair. I was facing the corner of the room. Drawing. Illustrating. I was drawing the Sydney Opera House, the skyline and harbor of the city. But I knew I was targeting a "timeline" I was channeling in a new way for me, yet I knew that I had done this many times "before" The door of the room opens.
"You are done" A male voice says
I put down my pencil. I am finished drawing the picture. I turn it over, not looking at it and slip it into a manila folder. I look over to my right where the male voice has come from. The figure is tall and slim, dressed in a black suit, aviators sunglasses and a bald head.
I laugh. "Are you really? Are you really what I think you are? That is so stereotypical"
"Yes. I am. And it is also different than what you think... This is important, never forget, you outrank all of us. Thank you ma'am, I'll take this".
He gently takes the folder out of my hand and I am thrust back into my body.
Remote viewing. I was in an official remote viewing room and that guy was a ...Man In Black?? Woah..
I have a dream a few nights later, I am in the back of a black vintage car that is like new. I am dressed in a black suit. I am sitting next to a man who is also dressed in a suit. The dream flashes to a nice hotel. The man from the car and I are walking down a hallway. We have just "finished work" but the "shift" is not yet over. I feel heavy. I carry a brief case. I am the carrier. We enter a room of the hotel. The suits are ripped off. Deep inked skin intertwines, sweated slick images of ancient tattooed symbols. As I am filled, I release. I feel lighter. I wake.
I had characters dancing in my head and heart, talking to me, telling me stories, I always do, but a particular voice became louder. A "hybrid child". She was the blonde girl, "my daughter" with the baby black bird I had met or created in my vision before going to Hawai'i. I felt encouraged to vocal channel her. I hadn't vocal channeled in months, I went in once in Hawai'i with friends I met that knew of Bashar, they appreciated it, but again it felt "off" to me. I could feel this being though, she felt very "Real" The story was, she was just about to graduate from her training as a "communications specialist" And was excited and ready to step into her role as being the entity I had an agreement with to channel. I had met and stayed in contact with a friend I met at the Bashar event in June, he lived in the area. One night we were hanging out and I proposed the idea of me channeling this new being. He was totally interested. I entered the altered state easily. A young, energetic voice played through my body. Again, I do not remember the specifics of what was being said. I was being shown images of "the ship" or "the realm" were she was, she was taking me on a tour. Every part "bigger on the inside" White flat walls that could turn into endless winding forests on the slightest adjustment of thought. At one point I was put back in the awareness of the body, I felt my voice hit a part of my resonance that it never had before, for a trained vocalist of 20 years, this was a very new experience for me. "Woah" my personality realized. I heard the specific sound reverberate the room and in my mind's eye saw the sound waves. "Wait for it..." The energy told me, then I heard it, a bell ring off in the next room. My roommate had a meditation bell that went off in the next room.
"Did you hear the Bell ring???" The entity asked my friend?
"Yes. I did"
"We want to remind you, you are all instruments. Frequency and vibrations. It is one of my favorite games to make Bells ring with just the adjustment of my vibration!"
My mind fell back asleep and into back into the trees of the realm as the entity continued to talk and I processed what had just happened. The vibration from the note still ringing in my throat.
Every day I missed Hawai'i more and more. I thought often of going back. One night, I am riding my bike home from work, passing the library. There is a big cement planter box. Empty. Barren. The tree that once lived there is long gone. I notice a little white blob on the ledge. As I ride closer, I see it is a flower. Two flowers. I ride up, two plumerias.
I put myself in motion to prepare to drive up to the Bay Area that night. I told myself and the universe, at any point, if there is a complication or a snag, even the smallest one, I will stop and re-evaluate.The day flowed easy. I rented a car, talked to my bosses at my jobs, they understood and supported me to go, that day. Amazing. I talked to my landlord. I would pay the next month rent, giving her 6 weeks to fill the room. Great. Fine. Good luck. I met up with Jen and gave her the little bit of furniture and clothing that I had collected during my summer in Venice. It felt nice to be able to repay a bit of her and her Gentleman's kindness. I met up my friend from Marin and bought my plane ticket to Hawai'i sitting at his kitchen table. In two and a half weeks I would be flying back to Kona. I gave the sudden news to my music collaborator. He was surprised, but also understood. I did not call, or say goodbye to my Dharma Punx friends. If I have one regret, it is that I did not take the opportunity to connect with those people before I left. I think of my friend and yoga teacher often. I have tried to contact him, but lost his email and his phone number has changed. I am so grateful for what they provided for me. Sometimes it can be so challenging to express those deep feelings, so we fly with out word. I am sorry for this. If I could re-write this scene, I would.. and maybe I still can. We are punks and members of "the freak society". We are warriors on the path. I hope you understand. Thank you, my friend.
I was on my way up to the Bay Area by Midnight. I had covered my bases, for the most part. Even though the decision was extremely spontaneous I felt I had done it "responsibly".The mean streets of LA scared me in a car. I had been nestled in my little neighborhood, riding bikes. I now tried to navigate myself out of the maze. Out of the Matrix. Detour after road Detour. I laughed and screamed at the City of Angels! The Matrix was trying to keep me in!! No! You wont take me! I played. Throwing my fist in the air. Finally, close to two hours later, I got my way out of the city. I drove all night and was back home in Marin County by early morning. I surprised my parents, hadn't seen them in close to 8 months. I spent the next few weeks visiting with my friends and family, touching base before going back to Hawai'i.
"What are you going to do when you get back there? Do you have a plan?" my mom asked me
"Go back to Pineapple Park. Restart with the work trade. I'm not done there at the hostel. Or on that part of the island" I told my mom.
"Are you going to call, to make sure?"
"Nope, it's cooler if I surprise them. Way better story."
My beautiful, amazing parents, we see the world very differently, and I know that I have been a catalyst for much stress in their lives as I made these wild choices. "What if she doesn't need the help? Then what will you do?"
"Well, she does. They are going to be stoked to see me. I feel it. And if she doesn't that means that there is something else. Or I will make a hut down at the bay. I'll be an ocean girl. Trekking in my water and food, climbing trees and cracking coconuts, weaving the shells the dolphins give to me in my hair."
I secretly hoped this would be the way the story would play out. I wanted to devote myself to the land and the sea this time around. I had worked a lot to keep myself afloat the first time around in Hawai'i. I wanted more adventure this time. But more so, I knew there was much more for me to learn there, and I would receive it in just the way I was "supposed" to.
My journey started, back to Hawai'i, on October 2nd, 2012.
I nick named this adventure, my "10-2 Take 2"
Lights. Camera. Action ......
kaplak
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