)O( Orange Sweetness )O(

Mangos and friendship EVERYWHERE.  Khmer New Year was, once again, simply the best holiday every invented.  Roughly 3 MILLION people came to Siem Reap!  It was SO FUN.  I acted like I was 22 the whole time, haha!  The water gun battles were epic, the food was amazing, the music was lit!  I will never get tired of seeing live Khmer rap!  
On the opposite end of the emotional spectrum, I have been chipping away at my book.  It's extremely intense.  Every time I sink into it, I have to carefully climb back out.  Due to the high levels of energy expended this month, I leave you with an exclusive excerpt from Chapter 7 instead of more present day commentary.  

I concocted a self initiation ritual to honor the sacred Trinity of Atum, Nuit, and Auset (Isis).  Deep in the shadows of the Westminster Cemetery of Westminster, California, I performed my ceremonial enactment of swearing fealty to the Kemetic Pantheon.  The mausoleum called to me when my ritual was complete.  My feet took me there without any investment of my will.  Though my heart was pounding and I felt light-headed, I allowed myself to follow the compulsions that directed my steps.

Once inside the mausoleum, I could hear whispers all around me.  I could feel presences.  There was a sensation of the air being laden with electromagnetic energy.  Later in life, I learned that I am extremely sensitive to electromagenetism as well as barometric pressure.  MRI machines sometimes cause me to black out, and a sudden drop in airplane cabin pressure might illicit a scream of pain.

As I stood in the center of the mausoleum, the inspiration to sing overwhelmed me.  I opened my mouth and a beautiful aria poured from my soul.  The notes bounced off the ceiling, floor, and mausoleum drawers, reverberating back at me in a glorious chaos of energy.  I sang until I felt the edges of my consciousness waiver.

At the edge of waking reality, I saw unrisen souls of the dead in an interconnected web interlocking around the world.  "Unrisen" means "not yet transcendent, transmuted, or transferred."  My mind reeled and my song ended.

I sat down on one of the memorial benches and quietly wept from the profundity of my experience.  Mentally, I offered gratitude and sentiments of awe to Nuit and Auset.  It was obvious that I would be unpacking the meaning of this moment for the rest of my life, but before I could begin thinking about it, I felt a sudden pull.  This feeling was not gentle or beautiful.  My heart suddenly raced and my mouth went dry.

Memories of the entities that used to gather around my bed came to me, unbidden.  Once more, I allowed my steps to be directed.  As I walked through the cemetery, my mind was assailed by flashes of war.  Scenes of unspeakable horrors unfolded before my eyes, superimposed over the details of my physical surroundings.  I was absolutely terrified, but I continued to move.

Soon, my footsteps slowed and I took a hard turn to the left.  I stopped at the grave of a Vietnam War veteran.  The air was suddenly freezing cold and I could hear the sounds of men dying.  Emotions that were not my own flooded my heart.  He was upset that his wife had chosen to have her name already engraved on the tombstone.  Something about how it was important for her to "be fully alive".  My heart broke for him.

With every ounce of willpower I could muster, I invited the old veteran to let go of the war.  I told him what year it was currently, where his grave was located, and that he was deeply loved.  The brutal imagery and emotions abruptly stopped.  There was a moment of mutual understanding.  He could see that it was time for him to let go of the past, and I could see that this was truly happening.  A flash of warm, soft, white light ended our connection.  After that, the grave felt "empty" to me.

I dragged myself home, exhausted beyond reason.  It took days for me to recover my appetite and weeks to get grounded again.  Once I was back to a good place mentally, and physically, I went back to the cemetery and let the graves call to me again.  Gravesweeping is a sacred and ancient ritual.  As the years progressed, my version of it has matured, but I've never stopped the practice.