Chaco Canyon - A Rememberance, Part II, Unfinished business complete

With the passing of several years, I received several phone calls and letters from Debbie sharing insights. The major change seemed to be around her control issues. She had always explained it away as being independent, but with the experience at Chaco, this independence seemed to be melting away. She said that she was much more willing to compromise than she ever deemed possible. The ‘sting’ seems to be gone, she said.

We also became aware that neither of us liked to be ordered around, never took directions well, in fact, had the mind to do the opposite from what we were told, even as children. And we both hated joining groups. I, for instance, failed Brownies (the younger version of Girl Scouts). I could be a fun participant, but in large organized traditional groups, I wanted no part of it.

Debbie was ecstatic over how much more comfortable she was with life. I distinctly remember her saying that assimilating all the experience of Chaco had changed her life. She felt this was the reason she was always pushed to visit the place. ‘....so I could be free of it to do what I need to do in this life.’

The next time Debbie came to New Mexico to visit found us taking a weekend at the hot springs between Taos and Santa Fe, getting massages, mud baths and eating healthy yummy food. It was bliss, relaxing and fun. Packing the car to drive home, Debbie handed me a tape, saying that if I liked it, I could have it. So as we drove toward Santa Fe, I popped the tape in and settled in for the 2.5 hour drive home until Debbie saw a sign which read: Bandelier, 16 miles.

What’s that? she asked. ‘I don’t know, wanna go there?” “Might as well, we have plenty of time’. So off the main road I turned.

Before we realized it, we were in a traffic jam, trying to get into the parking lot of a state park. The tape was the only thing that kept me in the long line of cars, as we ended up waiting 45 minutes for a parking space.

As we walked into the park office, we both saw Indian looking relics. “Oh, no-o-o” I uttered, “what have you got us into now?” Debbie snapped back, “Get over it, clearly we are supposed to be here.”

We both started laughing. I had to sit down I was laughing so hard, the tears streaming down my face and I was doubled over, holding my stomach. the more I thought about it, the funnier it got. I realized I was making a scene so I told her I was going on ahead, she could catch up with me.

I left the office/museum and headed down the worn path to the ruins. I wasn’t 50 yards away when I walked up a steep incline and went under an arch carved out of stone. It was as if I had walked through a veil, a door, a window and a mantra came rushing through the eons to me - ‘you have come home - you are safe’.

I was stunned. I stood for a few seconds to get my baring on my feelings and thoughts. It was 90 degrees and I had chills up and down my body and felt chilled all over. I slowly kept walking, around a corner, up the steep path and found a wooden bench to sit on that over looked the walk way and the arch. I started to relax and began to breathe easier. I felt lighter and almost excited. “You have come home and you are safe’ kept ringing in my head. It felt good and before too long the sun warmed me up. I watched as people walked through the arch. Some paused a moment to examine it, but most just kept on walking and chatting without missing a beat. Then came Debbie. She didn’t notice me and I felt a little sneaky watching her silently. She paused under the arch for a moment and then went out of sight. I turned around on the bench so that I could see her expression when she rounded the corner. She looked puzzled.

I just walked through another door, only this time I didn’t come back out, but I feel all right. Actually I feel pretty good. It’s like I’m safe or something like that.”

I started smiling, “Me, too, it’s calming, guess you were right, we’re supposed to be here.”

“Yes, but I didn’t come back out.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, when I went under that arch, I felt I was walking through a doorway, felt calm, safe and happy, but I didn’t experience walking out of it again like I did at Chaco Canyon. Know what I am trying to say?”

“Yes, I think I do. Maybe this is the solution or settling or coming to an evenness with the experience of Chaco. Maybe you’ve resolved the conflict you have been carrying with you as soul memory since the Chaco Canyon life. Perhaps all the work you’ve done on it has cleared the way to a resolution of sorts.”

“Maybe so”, she said softly, “I just know I feel better about the whole thing. And you?” she asked and looked up at me.”

“Felt something similar, felt relief, huge sense of relief, safe, Like I was coming home and heard the words -’you have come home - you are safe’. I think we’ve come full circle, what ever that means.”

We hadn’t even scratched the surface of this ancient site. The land looked like a combination of both Chaco and Mesa Verde. Structures on the ground and then high rooms carved into the canyon walls.

We walked in silence, looking, experiencing. For me it was an easy trek as I felt a healing thing happening and the strong feeling of relief stayed with me.

There was a tall ladder that seemed to beckon - so I started up it. I’m not fond of heights, as Debbie well knew, so when I stopped half way up I heard her voice right behind me telling me not to look down, but to keep on going. I took in the security of her voice and continued on up the ladder against the high canyon wall.

Arriving at the top, I crawled in on my hands and knees as there wasn’t room to stand up. I discovered three small room like ‘perches’ each with a hole or window in which one could look out across the valley and see the entrance to the park. I positioned myself in front of the first window, leaving enough room for Debbie to crawl past me to the next window, which she did. We sat alone and silent high up in the cliff for what seemed like a long time.

With a combination of meditation, ising, feeling and experiencing the energy, I unfolded the story which came on the wings of feeling extreme relief. I had grown up in Mesa Verde, a peaceful and spiritual life with lots of connection to the earth. I was then stolen (this differs from Debbie’s point of view as she feels she was sold) and taken to Chaco Canyon where I worked in a group who were a ‘support service’ for the laborers (of which Debbie was a part). I did things like vegetable gardening, took food and water to the laborers, prepared meals, etc. I deplored the conditions they had to work in and the way they were treated. I became more and more homesick for my beloved Mesa Verde and more and more depressed about the situation in Chaco Canyon. I banded together with a small group of people who felt the same and we ran away.

The memory was that it took a long time to prepare to leave and then we had to wait for a time when we would have enough hours or days before they missed us so we would have a good head start. We left during the first six hours of a three day ceremony. There were visitors from far and near and the area was exploding with people and activity. Getting caught meant certain death. I am uncertain if we were trying to find Mesa Verde or not. I do know that our little band, which Debbie was a part, wandered that part of the country for several months until we stumbled upon Bandelier. There, it reminded us of Mesa Verde and we decided to stay as it offered a safe canyon, stream and was a place where we could live without much notice from other bands.

I realized I was sitting in a look out perch that gave a view of the entrance to the canyon as well as the activity of the residence below. I felt I had perched there many a time, watching for any scouts from Chaco that might be looking for us.

As I sat there, following the stream of this insight, a face appeared in the window blocking my view. It was a young woman in her twenties and I initially thought she was my relief person, but snapped back to present day reality when she smiled and said something about this being a safe place to sit for a while as she crawled pass me, pass Debbie and perched herself in the third and only remaining look out window. We all sat there in silence for a long time.

Finally, she said, “I feel like I’ve been here before” at which point both Debbie and I said in unison, “You have!”

I am unsure how long we all three sat there, but when one made a move to leave, we all three did. Being the last to get on the ladder to climb down, and seeing the height, I remember saying something about hard liquor and an air lift. That broke the silence and we all laughed.

We together toured the rest of the ruins, talking, sharing feelings and musing. When we got back to the car park, we sat at a picnic table so she could give her dog some water and share some cookies. We learned that Marilyn came from North Carolina. She had been laid off her job, had a bit of money saved, had wanted to visit Bandelier, Chaco Canyon and Mesa Verde for as long as she could remember. She felt the timing was right, so she packed her sleeping bag, tent and gear, and her beloved dog and headed out to follow her soul’s prodding. Bandiler was the first stop of her journey. We shared with her some of our experience at both places. She, along with us, felt that we had all three been on this trek before. She even stated that she felt she was doing it backwards, but that is the way it was turning out.

As we drove toward home late that afternoon, I popped the tape back in the deck. “This is a great tape, Debbie, what is it?”

Debbie kicked off her shoes, settled back in the seat, and looking straight ahead simply said, “It is by Medwyn Goodall and it is called: Medicine Woman.”

* Foot Notes

1. Since this adventure, some archeologists have come out with what they think is proof of cannibalism in ancient sites very near to Mesa Verde. Although Debbie and I didn’t experience that at Mesa Verde, we did feel like extreme rituals at Chaco Canyon were performed which resulted in the killing of animals and humans.

2. My knowingness of the Kiva we were in at Mesa Verde, told me it was a safe holding space for the physical body, while one could go play in the universe, OBE (Out of body Experience).

3. There is recent speculation that the word Anassazi could also mean (again in Navajo) The Evil Ones.

4. It is believed by the Navajo, Zuni and a few other tribes in the area that the Pueblo Peoples are direct descendants of the Ancient Ones. The daughter of a very wise Chief of the Navajo Nation, some years back, told me that her father told her many years ago that the Pueblo Peoples would neither agree or disagree with that notion. This led him to come to believe that it probably wasn’t so, that they may have once knew of the reasons but remained silent about it.

5. Debbie swears that they were time travelers - she will not be more specific than that. I have played with the notion, myself and feel that there maybe some truth to that feeling.

6. Today, Kivas in the Pueblos are used for ‘spiritual ceremonies’ - the women, to this day, are not allowed to take part or even enter a Kiva. Modern Kivas have high adobe walls around them and are usually located in the center of the Pueblo Village.

7. Marilyn - if you read this, please contact me through the address in my profile. We lost your address and both Debbie and I would like to get in contact with you.