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Flower Drum Song

Left hand with a gong, right hand with a drum

With a gong and a drum together we sing a song

I am not excellent with other songs,

The only song I know is this flower drum song

from the land of Fengyang

Fengyang used to be a beautiful land before the wars and hunger

I was like you, ladies and gentlemen, from a good family

Because there was no harvest, we had to roam to dance and to sing

in order to feed

I am now going to sing and dance and drum for you

dear brothers and sisters, Grandmas and grandpas, uncles and aunts

Dong dong chung, dong dong chung,

dong dong chung chung, dong dong chung…


Ma Ma was very excited that I should dance the Flower Drum Song in a dance festival. The flower drum was kind expensive but mom saved some money from the grocery for buying the drum and for making costume for me. This time I should not have heavenly deity’s jeweled long hair but a folded scarf tied over my two long pig tails. Mom said that was a very famous traditional folk dance in China. I supposed to be a beautiful young roaming girl who lost her home,  now she need to sing and dance to feed herself and to feed her younger siblings.

The flower drum was made of wood, carved with flowers patterns  There were two big golden rings on each end of the drum. Mom bought a long red silk scarf tied both golden rings in fancy arrangement then tied the flower drum around my waist. I did not need to sing because the singing part was already recorded into the dance music. It was sung by Miss Lieu, a famous folk singer in those days. My job was to dance well and to drum well. The studio where I practiced was not a big space for any adult, but for a small child, it was like a school stage. I practiced all the difficult back bending, jumps and turns, and had a great time dancing to a music that suppose to be a sad story.

Finally it was the festival season. The festivals lasted for many evening. We small kids were gathered on the opening night. There were all kind of pretty dancers in all kind of fancy costumes in and out of a basket ball stadium where lots of people already seated. Mom was very confident when she put make ups and costume on me. She marveled how outstanding I looked. I was like mom’s hopes and dreams. Before I was born, mom was a classical Chinese painter. Her excellency was to paint the Chinese courtly ladies and heavenly deities. Every time when mom put make up on me, I felt she was giving all her attention and breath to her artistic expression, and that artistic expression happened to be my face.

The basket ball floor was so much bigger than the small kids’ studio where I rehearsed in. I asked mom where was front, She said all sides were front side since all people needs to be greeted. When my name was called, mom said- smile- then pushed me into the huge audience-filled performing space. The music was on and it was time to dance and to drum… but how? The space was so big. It took me a while to go to all corners to greet people and smile to them… I forgot all the difficult dance steps I had practiced so diligently. All I knew was to dance from my heart because I had already missed all the right moments to do the right dance steps… I was so small and the space was so big. There was no dance troop on stage with me, only me. I ran so fast from corner to corner and drum so restlessly out of breath, and the audience began to laugh and to applaud the same time. The more they laugh, the faster I ran to greet them then drum more and they laugh harder and applaud more. I actually had a great time feeling they were happy. I love to make people happy that was why I became a performer. People always looking cheerful when coming to a performing space. I had no idea where did those self invented dance steps came from. The energy was so high, everyone seemed to be excited including me.  Finally the music stopped, out of breath, I bowed. People were laughing, applauding, whistling. I ran to mom to feel if she liked my performance. She had the biggest smile ear to ear, I guessed she liked it. My dance teacher, Miss Chang, also beamed a big smile at me. I wonder why she was so happy? I did not deliver the dance steps I supposed to. Later in life, I learned that there was a name for such expression, it was called -Improvisation.

It seems life is made of endless improvisations. Things supposed to happen did not happen and things supposed not to happen, happened. The dance steps in life I had practiced diligently turned into unexpected dance steps in a different moments. Life is a much bigger stage than that basket ball stadium. There were many moments in life  I could still feel mom’s hands pushed my back, saying- smile. Then I was on my own, alone, on stage. Don’t forget to smile and to greet the people with grace.. especially when traveling from land to land, making friends with people who spoke different mother tongues… Was the Flower Drum Song prophetically predicted my life style as a gypsy roaming from land to land, dancing, performing and sell my art works for a living? I was from a very good family too and I had traveled and danced for people of different lands for a long, long time. Actually, I also had lots of great time dancing to some music that supposed to be sad stories… Human emotions are very fascinating. It is not just what meets the eyes. Sad stories often end surprisingly joyful and happy stories often end less than bitter-sweet.

The social conscious often program people’s mind about which outcome is good and which outcome is bad. People would do everything to meet those social images, then end up with heavy confusions and self doubt. The biggest self doubt could be – why I am not happy? I had achieved everything that everyone had ever dreamed about…what was wrong with me? One of my spiritual teachers once asked us:” If overnight you lost everything you thought is important to you: your wealth, your career, your relationships, your fame…your this and your that…  what are you going to be?” There was a long silence in the room. How miserable it would be! Well, actually not that terrible either since many of us who seated there had already disillusioned after lost appetite to achieve more. So we began to smile at one another. “You then shall be free to start a new life.” Said he. The room then filled with roaring laughter.

Home is where the heart belongs. If a heart belongs to the world and to all life streams, then being on the road is being at home. When we travel so much, homesick become so abstract for there is always another kind of food, another kind of conversation, another kind of culture, another kind of relating- missing. Perhaps this is also the reason why artists do not mind living a simple life and express our  inner world through our arts. We are doing our best to bring an inner “home” to the external world. Being present in each moment is the best cure for homesick. Nothing is missing when we are fully present in each moment. Perhaps the only thing missing was some out-dated mental and emotional habits. They were fading like leaves falling, making rooms for new leaves, new mental concepts and new emotions to partake the feast of life.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

How does it feel like to be a tree that has one big branch dying but the rest of the tree are thick branches filled with healthy and happy leaves? What if that dead branch was a very sad marriage while the rest of the life is filled with celebrations and promises? What if the entire society tells you to keep the dead branch even at the cost of your life but you choose life instead of death?

When I received scholarship came to the States as a foreign student, I was such a tree. I would do anything to make that dead branch alive again. I thought things might get better after I advanced myself. Nobody knew the sad stories underneath those smiles from the Flower Drum Song. Perhaps the earlier lies we have learned in life is to smile when we feel like to cry, and to be altruistic when we need draw the boundary and stand for oneself. Then I was happy that I learned how to lie because I had witnessed even more sad stories happened to those who don’t understand “the art of lying.” How many inner child inside you feel the same way? Instead of raise your hands you may just give yourself a high five for out-lived all kind of insanity and still alive and sane.

” Truth ” is such a misunderstood word as if it is opposite of lies. From my humble observations that often those who talked about they did not like to play games, or how they hate bull-shits are the biggest deceivers to themselves. How do I know that? Being there, done it, got very bored… perhaps when we got so disillusioned with social bull poops and political correctness that actually insulting one’s own intelligence, we then begin to learn the art of speaking Truth. Speaking truth is not the opposite of telling a lie. Speaking truth is the ability to cut through so many layers of social programming, and speak something truthfully to the best ability one could. That is not just in 360 degree viewpoints but spherical and dimensional. It is almost impossible to speak things truthfully in such awareness unless one is enlightened. Then most enlightened ones enjoy to be silent.. Speaking truth is the gift either from a very innocent child or from a very sophisticated seeker who wants to understand what was underneath all those beautiful ideals, idols, slogans and highly prized lies. Speaking truth is a trademark of a mature human being who has traveled so much, seen so much, and perhaps also lied so much  to finally become simple again. If we are not simple enough we could not speak truth, if we are not sophisticated enough, we could not understand other viewpoints of their personal truth. We could only speak our personal truth that was based on personal life experiences and opinions. That is it. It is called being subjective. Sometimes when hidden data got revealed, people call it truth. Well, it is just a piece of hidden data becoming part of the reference, don’t be too excited and jump into the conclusion too early. Perhaps instead of preaching people to speaking truth while the preachers do not even know the truth, we can just encouraging one another to speak from our own hearts instead speaking those entangled ideals from the highly programmed head. That would be like using a computer that is filled with cookies, out dated data, cache… when function in the world from a highly programmed and confused mind.

I have seen people lied to themselves all the time but preaching the importance of speaking truth. So preaching the importance of speaking truth is actually an act of lie for a lot of people who just want to be accepted, to be loved and to be political correct. The bottom line is all about survival instinct. Truth and convenience definitely do not go too well together. When human being  lost the full consciousness of living the Original Grace and fall to the limited consciousness of surviving the original sins, truth then get replaced by the common opinions. The original grace in the Buddhism is the Buddha Nature and the original sin in the Buddhism is Karma.

I have been an excellent performer, I enjoy speaking the truth and playing with lies the same time. It is a kind of artistry like painters playing with light and darkness… Sometimes truth is expressed though lies. How could it be?

The last few months when I was a graduate student in Calarts, I was so fascinated with the environmental performance. It was the last few requirement for my M.F.A degree. There! The elevator door opened, when you walked in, there were a couple arguing something so “truthfully” in front of everyone. You tried to not listen to them but their discussion was so profound, that made your thoughts involved with their arguing… turned out that was an environment performance. It was much easier to perform on stage than perform in real life settings. So here was what happened on my delivery:

A shy girl like me had to ask people for a $20 bill in the cafe’. The other art students in the cafe’ could not believe what they saw. The Dean of the Dance School then was Cristyne Lawson who was my mentor when my original mentor and personal heroine Tina Yuan was teaching in France. Cristyne first did not realize that I jumped the gun and showed my performance right then. Then she winked: “Here is a $20 bill, you can keep it.” I then went through some of the childhood psychological terms about being worthy… I acted like a little girl wondering if anyone did not like me because I need to borrow money? I then asked each person there- are we friends? Do you like me? If you found out I am lying, do you still want to be my friend?  More and more people gathered around us to see how this performing piece would unfold… while talking none stop like a tour guide in the museum of human mentalities, I then lead the crowd from the cafe’ to a dance studio that had two doors on each side of the opposite walls. I told them to wait outside the door for three minutes before entering because I need a bit time to set up the room for the final dance. As soon as I was in the studio, I pull the movable mirrors next to the door and put two chairs in front of the mirror as if two people sat in front of the mirror chatting, meanwhile I disappeared from the other door of the studio. After three minutes, my curious friends enter the studio, did not find me ready to dance for them but only themselves in the mirrors and two empty chairs conversed with each other.

You could imagine how they felt and how I felt. Ah! I got more friends after showing that environment performance. Cristyne had tears in her penetrating dark eyes. I felt the entire world within me applauded to me while I bowed on the stage of my own psyche, and to some empty chairs in the theater of my inner dramas… My life would never be the same after that performance of speaking truth through lying.

New York City was a great environment for such performance. I had lots of great time playing around with the “audience” who had no idea they were participating a “performance.” Yeah! Message delivered, mission completed. I love environment performances where people got the messages in all kind of delightful ways. We often found very few are interested in substantial discussions when we attend a party and trying to have some meaningful conversations,. Body-hunt seems more important than communicating in depth… To not talk other people’s heads off and to not insult my own intelligence, the environmental performances became something so magical to play with. One of my favorite one was entering a well-known theater watching a show by myself. I wore an outfit handmade by myself and walked toward the highest seating- alone. I walked with confidence knowing so dearly in my soul that I was elegant and beautiful. How could I not? I was in the midst of “performing” for God’s sake! Then a gentleman approached me politely and asked me which country did I come from?

Ah! Gotcha! I knew that would happen. So I whispered politely to him” “I am from a spaceship.” Nodded with performer’s grace, slowly and confidently I walked toward my destined seat. When I sat down, I saw many of them whispered and turned their head back and upward smiled and waved at me. I smiled and waved back as if I was a princess from a far away galaxy. Oh! How I loved my audience! No matter if they realized it or not. Everyone had a great time before the official show. Did I speak the truth? Or did I just have lied? That was a secret between me and someone I may call ” I.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I got a phone call from two of my artists friends, V & L, who used to produce performances for the United Nations World Peace concerts. I had been performing for the U.N with my ex husband M. along with many other brilliant artists for quite some time already. We truly believed in the missions of U. N. in those days. I did not know how to get onto Internet yet, so there was no way for me to have different data about the Cabals, the Illuminati, The New World Order… etc. As artists we were very honored to offer our arts to the U. N. World Peace events. V. had higher clearance in the U. N. that once she even took me to the cafeteria in a special floor that only the world leaders and high profiled individual could enter. Most people worked for U. N. could only go to the one in a different floor. She whispered to me: “that guy is Mikhail Gorbachev, and that woman is so and so’s chief secretary…” I asked: “which one?” She then said: ” don’t look at them directly, it is about in the 11 o’clock and 3 o’clock direction. ”  I then pretended going to the restroom and took a quick glace at each direction. The entire floor was so quiet that made me wonder how many spies were in the building. With what I know now – Holy Jesus! we all must had been watched by security cameras and by security people. V. introduced me to L. and L. told me that there was an Africa queen N. N. who wanted me to have a private performance in her resident. I should meet her at her office in a huge building near the U. N. – something like at 14th floors around 1 pm on a Fri.

I got so curious about what did it means that I would perform for her private party in queen’s holy abode? I did not remember how much they paid me. The child in me felt so adventurous and I could hardly wait to meet an Africa Queen. I had never heard about the name of her country and still could not remember how to pronounce it correctly after asking different people in different moments. To not show my ignorance, I did what mom said- smile – and danced myself into the unknown. N. N. was not there yet. I sat patiently until it was almost 2 pm. Then I saw a group of powerful Africa women dressed in ordinary  casual outfits,  coffee cups and McDonald lunch bags in their hands laughing and walking toward N. N.’s office. The receptionist whispered to one of them who looked like a chief secretary, then suddenly she became as still as an stature… very, very slowly she turned her face toward me like special effect camera work on a famous opera singer: “Hello, my daughter! I am N. N. How are you? My dear.” Her voice was so deep and round, just like a queen. Now a much taller, slender, radiant, dignified, queenly and motherly lady stood in front of me, picking up my hands in between her two palms greeted me as if she was so happy to see her “daughter.” I learned quite some profound insights about performing arts in those few moments.

Then we should have about two hours ride together in her private car. She told me about her people and her country and the challenge her country was facing. I nodded politely as if I understood everything she said. She then asked me sincerely: ” Tell me, my child! Do you miss home? How is your family? ” Hum!!! What should I say about “home and family?” How could I tell her that I was a running away wife who divorced her first husband? How could I tell her that even my own mom asked me to go back to that hell in a society that divorced was highly forbidden? How could I tell her that I was a black sheep not just in the family but also in the society that I exiled myself from? How could I tell her that I actually filed whoever accused me wrongly from my life and flew away like the bird in the wildness? So I said the proper thing- oh! yes, I miss home very much. My family is fine. They are all very happy for me. She simply said: ‘They should be very proud of you. We are all very proud of you.” I smiled again. She held my hands for the rest of the trip. Somewhat I felt she might see through me and she knew I was lying.

There were about 40 people in her party. Some of them I had already met in other World Peace concerts. L. was a delicate lady filled with good intent to serve. I somehow sensed that she knew more than what she was willing to talk about. She was highly protective about me, not from the Africa Queen but from other old male peace-makers. They sat around a circle and listen to her talk first. She talked about her people and her culture, and ancient history before the nation was formed, then she got more personal, talking about how her husband was killed and how her children were sent away and the complicated political situations there, then she talked about what kind of support she expected from the U. N. peace making groups. I did not use Internet then, so it sounds like a very sad story to me. With what I know now especially after reading John Perkins’ book – Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, I understand the situation N. N. was facing much different now. She and her husband did not buy into the games Cabal wanted them to play because they loved their people, that was why her husband got killed and her children got taken away. It is like the Cabals have always done- you either play into our games, you then shall be very wealthy and successful or you shall be miserable if you refuse to play our game. Africa is a land of resources that also filled with artifacts from their ancient roots. There was never any righteous reasons to conquer those lands except greed. The Cabals’ days are numbered. We are witnessing the final days of such crime against the humanity. N. N. was not the only one of the countless leaders suffered from the global dark force puppet masters. I wish that I could understood her situation much deeper then instead of now.

N.N then said that she had a surprise for her guests while presenting me to them. Believe this or not. I did ” Dance of the 7 veils ” with spiritual interpretation that was very different than how ” Dance of the 7 Veils ” was performed in the market places. It was a sacred dance. I blessed all the audience from my sacred energy centers to theirs while veiling and unveiling. For some reason I have always seeing myself as a temple dancer instead of a theater performer, even though most of my performances were in the theaters. I danced the prayers for her country and for relieving all sufferings, I danced high energy transmissions in trance state and I danced the purest love from my heart to theirs… then I bowed to the queen and to all her guests. Somewhere in my soul I remembered that was the job of a courtesan/ priestess/ temple dancer and I had done this lifetime after lifetimes, from culture to culture, civilization to civilization… I had done this from land to land, mentality to mentality… I had done this in different skin colors and in different body types… they remembered too. We were all bathed in a beautiful altered state of awareness. Soul lives in the timeless realm. When we have awakening moment, we then have a glimpse of our eternal selves. We also remember the stories we had participated in life. When a performer took her/his audience with her/him in the frequency of soul realms, everyone experienced a profound shamanic journey of meeting one’s true essence. To share sacred dance in such private party could be misinterpreted. People could be so touched then they thought they were deeply in love with what was in front of them. When perform in a theater, the lighting and the the distance between the performer and audience served as protection. When perform in private party, that layer of protection was not there. Perhaps that was why L. was highly protective about me even though I have always been protected by the divine within.

When we said goodbye, the queen hugged me warmly: “Always follow your heart, my daughter. You have my blessings.” That was the only time that N. N. and I spent some profound time together. I thought of her often and pray for her country and her loved one.

You have my blessings too, N.N. , my beautiful Africa Queen Mother.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The phone rang again. How many years had passed with the countless phone rings from one land to another land? ” Hello! Who is that? ” It was a man’s voice on the other end speaking in Chinese: “This is your uncle Francois. I want to discuss the details with you about your homecoming trip.” Uncle Francois is the head of the clan. He felt extremely responsible for my grandma’s Will get’s fulfilled with total justice. I love uncle Francois and aunt Shirley. I love all my uncles and aunts. I love my family… I love everyone in my life… then why I prefer to roam instead of going home? And being a loner instead of belonging?

It has been a never ending story that was made of all kind of long stories.. nobody remembers what was what anymore. Who cares about what he said or she said, or how come? or really? or any shocking breaking news… after shed oceans of tears, put on so much smiles, danced so much and traveled so much? Am I ready to go back to a “home” that almost suffocated me and killed me once upon a time? Am I ready to go back to the same home that gave me tremendous passions to dream the impossible dreams into realities once upon an earlier time? Never-ever-never- I would never be ready if not because uncles and aunts supported this journey with grace and generosity.

There I was, sitting at the lunch table at Din Tai Fung, an International well-known Chinese restaurant in Taipei, feasting with Uncle Francois, Aunt Shirley and her brother, Uncle Lo. I felt like to cry…  Uncle Francois reminded me that I was away for decades already. Oh! That long? I thought it was about 5 or 7 years…

Chinese people have tremendous inner strength. Part is because of the culture and part is because of the DNA. When I first arrived the U.S, I was very shocked about the American students complained about the “bad days.” They used to ask me why I was so happy? Did I ever have any ” bad days? ” Well, my answer was: ” The Chinese people seldom have any “bad days” because we were born with “bad days.” So bad days means normal days, that means almost good days.” The American kids playing foot balls and all kind of games after school, the Chinese kids study so hard after school. Just talk about history – American kids need to study more than 200 years of American history; Chinese kids need to study more than 5000 years Chinese history. Not to mention the Chinese parents have high expectation for their kids winning all kind of championships in whatever field the parents demand.

Uncle Francois was a very handsome young boy when I was very small. He used to play guitar and sing foreign songs at grandma and grandpa high social status parties. Little Gold, Little Firewood and I would sing along pretending we could speak English. None of us big kids and small kids alike had ever left the island Taiwan yet. It was like the hobbit in the Lord of the Rings, who lived happily in their hobbit town. That was their world – “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.”

Grandma sent uncle Francois to chef school before he went abroad to study Economic in Europe. Uncle Francois was the most lighthearted person then. He would experiment making ice cream together with uncle Peter just for the fun of making it. I would be so patiently watching for hours for all the professional steps they have to go through. Then they both forgot about it. After three days nobody ever mentioned about the ice cream, I was the one remembered where they stored ice cream and climbed off the bed after midnight, open the door of that tall refrigerator, stood on my toes, trying to reach the ice cream container and ate lots of it, then on my toes again, putting the ice cream back to the top shelf. That was the kind of concern I had in those days.

When uncle Francois received his PhD degree in France, I was a teenager champion girl. The taste of championships was more addictive than the taste of ice cream. When aunt Shirley came to visit us as uncle Francois’s bride, I was mature enough to befriend with her like an adult. Aunt Shirley was an artist in her heart. When she was deeply touched by some profound movies or theater pieces, she would sigh while commenting – how artful it was expressed in that way! We would talk about our views about life, then often ended with how amazing cats were. Aunt Shirley felt cats were much more cleaner and smarter than humans. She was not appreciative the fact that her cat had been treated as an “animal” by grandma. I definitely agreed with her even though I was grandma’s best friend.

Uncle Francois was the first Asian got hired to work for the high professional financial firm in Wall Street. Wall Street was highly respected and trusted in those days than now. When he chose to leave his glorious achievements from abroad only to work for some of the top companies that had branches in Taiwan, grandma was very touched. She knew that uncle Francois made such decision for her sake. He was the one giving grandma shots daily to balance of her blood sugar. When he had conversation with other people, he had the authority of a C.E.O and the charm of a movie star. I would secretly mimic his manner while having interviews with my early bosses – at the age of 17. Uncle Francois is now well adored by his students as Prof. Soh. The President of the university felt very honored to have him teaching there. He said there were plenty PhD out there but they did not have the experiences uncle Francois had, and there were plenty people out there who had the experiences but did not have PhD. He could not find anyone like Uncle Francois who has excellency in both academic world and the practical world. Oh! Yes, he is a Gemini. As his long term admirer I had witness his multi-facets supreme intelligence since I had some awareness of what intelligence was about. In fact all my uncles and aunts presented some kind of energy field that was so different than the ordinary people in the society I was raised. They were the ones who had seen the world and were successful in whatever they had done. They were my heroes and heroines. I would never imagine that one day I was the one who roam away from such family, not because of them but because of my own paths.

Across the lunch table uncle Francois and aunt Shirley were eyeing if I enjoyed such feast. I love them so much that words truly could not do any justice on such deep emotions… so I smiled again when tears welling up. These people were so down to earth while my earnest concern has always been flying as far as I could, sometimes with broken wings and other times with rainbows beneath my ever expanding, healed and ecstatic invincible wings. Have you seen the movie – Maleficent? That was the kind of journey and the kind of wings we are talking about.

We went to all kind of offices for legal signatures in less than one week time. If not because uncle Francois persisted that I had to go back “home” I would never be able to find my way physically, mentally, emotionally to complete the missing chapters in the book of my life.  Aunt Shirley would meet us in some special restaurant for lunch, after lunch we went again to get more paper work done. For them it was just lunch, for me those were special occasion feasts. I almost forgot the sophisticated role of healing, communicating, making deals, celebrating…and sometimes lecturing from the elder to the younger ones… that the feasting table played in Chinese culture. I had my moments of tearing listening to Uncle Francois lecturing me the mistakes I made of not going home often, then aunt Shirley had to stand by my side spoke for me just like when I was a kid, when father got tough with me then mom had to sooth father’s temper. I did not expect such culture shock of me being lectured. Then Uncle Francois said: ” Maybe you are as brilliant as the President Trump. He does not make sense to many people, but you seems to have no problem to understand him. For most people it is too confusing for people like you and Trump.We have no ideal what you guys are talking about…and we have no ideal what shall be your next moves. ” Wow! If that was the bottom line form the preaching I got from my uncle Francois, all those tears were so worthwhile shedding. I felt pretty flattered that my dear Uncle compare me with someone I respect tremendously, even though I do not totally in agreement with everything President Trump said or done, plus my life is very different than President Trump. He is a successful billionaire and he is our present President. My life is like the birds in the wildness. When the storm comes, we hide, when the sun comes out, we sing. Our nests are somewhere high up on the trees. Life is not about security but truly alive in each moment regardless how risky it might be. When we see things from above, we got different perceptions than perceiving life from below looking upward. Our nests could be destroyed anytime during the storms and we do not have problem to build another one, yet another one… then another one.

Jesus taught about the bird in the wildness. If mom realized that how much I had practiced what Jesus taught, she might get even more confused that why she and I heard the same message but understood so differently: “Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?” – Matthew 6:26.

Now look this one –  “Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; but I tell you, not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. “But if God so clothes the grass in the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, how much more will He clothe you? You men of little faith! – Luke, 12:27-28.

At the graveyard of grandma and grandpa, uncle Francois and I had quite some profound sharing on life principles. Everyone has some scars and wound during our journey through this physical plane. The most tragic event for uncle Francois and aunt Shirley was the death of their daughter Anita. Anita got killed when she was 14 years old by a boy who wanted to be the boyfriend for Anita. Uncle Francois was busy with lots of responsibilities that he did not even know such person existed. Aunt Shirley was aware of him and told Anita that she was too young to have a boyfriend. However aunt Shirley said it was ok to just be friend. The boy was not happy that Anita said she did not want to have a boyfriend, then he reacted madly and killed her while he was in his darkest moment. One of my biggest concerns in my life was about those who thought they were in love with me madly. That was nothing to do with love but purely obsession. I would turn into someone so unattractive and almost ugly in front of such people to repel them away. I might even get some “revenge” back if they had nightmare about me. Anita was only 14 years old, how could she know such persona in life? When the boy was charged with severe criminal sentence at the court, uncle Francois and aunt Shirley told the judge that since they already lost their daughter, they would not want the boy’s family lost their son.They both educated the boy further by visiting him while he was in the junior’s prison. Later the boy became a young man, married and had his own baby… and often came to visit uncle Francois and aunt Shirley. If anyone could be called true Christians who walk the talk and totally surrender tragic life experiences to God’s love, that would be uncle Francois and aunt Shirley. Actually all my uncles and aunts are true Christians who practice what Jesus taught in their life situations. They have been generous with my mom and with her off springs including me. When mom passed they had every right to sell the house where mom lived in. It was a gift from grandma to all her off springs. For some reason Little Firewood thought he should fight for not selling the house but allow Little Gold’s family continue to live there even though uncles and aunts offered financial benefit for Little Gold family. Little Gold passed 6 months before mom… It was not a pretty situation and I had to make tough choice about what did I stand for. Little Firewood is the only brother I have left in this world since mom, father, Little Gold all passed away. I have always loved him so dearly since his birth. There is a much deeper love stronger than the blood-tie, it is called Dharma – the principle of cosmic order. To not create further karmic disharmony, sadly I had to stand with all uncles and aunts and delivered my statement at the court… Even though I have always been a free spirit, these were not the moments to sing the song of Let It Be. After more than three years court case, finally Little Firewood said it was a misunderstanding, then he settled the case. Who is the one that has to clean up all the messes and confusions and straighten up the paper work? – Uncle Francois.

I met with the family of Little Gold the first time in my life. Little Gold wife Y.H. felt like a soul sibling to me. She met Little Gold when he was a young mountain monk. She said Little Gold already had golden aura around him then. Little Gold saw in his mind’s eye that he still had some worldly karma to complete. My nephew Jacob and my niece Gladys were the main reason for Little Gold left his mountain monk’s life to become a husband and a father. There were so much to say and so much remain unsaid. The bottom line was love. I could see how my uncles and aunts seeing me when I was their young niece. I was so curious to know more about the world across the great water where they came from. Now I am the aunt across the great water looking at my own nephew and niece in depth and feeling the blood in our veins talking… there were so much untold stories better to be left alone. No matter what kind of dramas every soul has to go through, the bottom line is the same. It is all about life. Life is love, is God… life is whatever we call it- All That Is, Tao…Life hold the final saying until we turn the page to the next chapter in the book of our souls.

In China there is a saying that it took 500 lifetimes of good karma for people to just be able to ride the same boat crossing a river. We were taught from the Buddhist way to cherish every Karma and transmuting the harmful ones into good ones. Family is made of all kind of different souls with different paths and life purposes. How many lifetimes of good karma for souls to meet one another as family members?

I shall visit you again very soon, dear Uncle Francois and Aunt Shirley. I promise you this time it won’t take another decade, hopefully less than two years. We have many things to do together to serve humanity – good, bad or ugly. We shall put our wisdom together through different paths…different values, different beliefs, different perceptions and different principles into One Heart. Those same heartbeats drumming through our veins as the Awaken Humanity are the same heartbeats that throbbing the Heart of Mother Earth with the Galactic Sun. Until then –

Left hand with a gong, right hand with a drum

With a gong and a drum together we sing a song…















Money, God and Sex

How does it feel to have our precious hearts broken, living in the darkness like sweet grapes lost its identity, then got crushed into a barrel, not knowing days or nights, or how many years had gone by… but unknowingly turned into soulful fine wine, ready to be served at the Feast of Life? How does it feel when lovemaking with life in silence, so blissful to surrender all that is so precious as ” mine”  to life itself, merging, rippling and dancing into infinite time lines?

life goes on…

How does it feel to have overloaded information, thoughts forms, ethic conflicts while our old personality overwhelmed with new data, like computer crashed, we experience panic attacks or even mental breakdown…pacing back and forth in the darkness of our mental cellar, moaning for the lost innocence…not knowing days or nights, or how many years had gone by..  witnessing the old person died and new birth in the Spring? How does it feel when life has opened our eyes, we can truly see whatever is in front of us fully present without fear… what more can we loss? What else left for us to protect?

Life goes on…

How does it feel to be an innocent oyster experiencing the flow of tides and endless bliss but all has been taken away by the sudden invasion of the sands… the old reality came to an end, not knowing days or nights, or how many years had gone by… Irritation, suffering, hopes and fears, confusions and realization are like different phases of the moon waxing and waning… until those tears and sands turned into pearls of wisdom? How does it feels when pain and sufferings became our old friends but in a twinkling of an ha-ha moment, those old friends were gone, yet, a part of us are still holding on?

life still goes on…

Oh, yes! Some grapes did not turned into fine wine, but bitter and sour and having identity crisis… some mental case did not breakthrough but breakdown. What are we going to do with those undigested attitudes? some oyster got eaten before the realizing of the first pearl… life still goes on… Life shall not stop living regardless we breakthrough or breakdown; life shall never end regardless we bless it or curse it… Our precious heart might get shattered, broken and disillusioned from time to time, then waking up with a sudden new sight at one fine morn, recognizing everything around was once a piece of heart of mine…  Compassion cannot be attained by reading many libraries of books but through life experiences of our own living truth. Living truth comes from an inner alchemy that allow us to grow beyond our confined boxes… Compassion is the profound understanding from the depth of our souls and hearts. It is a mark of an old soul who has seen so much and has understood so deeply. A young tree might idealize love and light; an old tree has lived through love and light and stormy dark nights… hence comes the depth and unconditional love.

I did not know we were “poor” when I was small. Little Gold and Little Firewood might be too small to even remember this. I did remember those days when typhoons wiped out many houses and flood were everywhere. We lived in a humble Japanese style of half wooden, half cement house with one room that had cement floor and the other room was a bit higher floored with Japanese house tatami.. It was a village like dorms for the families of teachers and military alike.  When the flood came, mom would pack up our belongings from the lower room to the the higher room.. if the flood came up to the higher room we then climbed to the roof. I did remember seeing salvation army members boating to each roof and bringing us the U.S. Navy survival packages. Those pieces of hard cookies, cans of meats, chocolates… all tasted marvelous to me. What an event!!! I had such an unbelievable time having picnic on the roof, eating foreign food, soaking wet with winds and rains… When the flood retreated, We often had snakes left in the houses… kids were holding those water snakes playing terror games with their friends while adults were busily fixing their house and helping one another to rebuild.

When mom cooked something special, it was never just cooked for our small family but  enough to feed many neighbors. We were taught to deliver each plate of special food to different neighbors saying something like: ” Mom said this is not a big dish but something small from our heart to share with you.” Mom was not the only one doing that either, the women in those days took turns to surprise their neighbors. They could make a table of feast out of almost nothing except vegetables from their own gardens and eggs from those “organic raised chickens”, some noodle… seaweeds, flours and salt. When it was time to harvest from our fruits trees, none of us thought of making money from our neighbors. We would go to neighbors asking them to bring some bags and baskets to take them home before the fruits got spoiled. They shared their fruits in their gardens with us too. Now looking back, that was abundant in all levels. Everyone’s heart was filled with appreciation, gratitude and sincere concerns for the neighbors. We supposed to have lands and wealth in the Mainland China but born as the third generation offspring of political refugees. Our elders did not stress the importance of money making but the importance of high awareness for the common good and high intelligence to lead. Father often said that lands, wealth, fame and anything external could be robbed either by the ill-willed people or by the ruthless fate, but nobody could rob our intelligence.

The ballet barre mom and dad set for me did not match with wooden floor but cement floor  with uneven surface. Later in life when I got scholarship to the U.S, I was so surprised about dancers complaining the beautiful floor was not good enough that made some people injured themselves. I was not taught to blame the floor if I got injured. I was taught if I got injured it was either because I was not present enough or not practiced enough. In the U.S. we have plenty food, good living standard but most people feel so much lack and had to keep financial stress as privacy. Money was such a big thing that we spend so much of our time making it but often do not make enough to go around. People were so stressed to make more money then there is no time for self education, research, soul journey and to keep an eye on what the governments are doing with our tax money… people have to work even harder to pay tax while the mass medias were controlled by puppet masters. The TV and medias know how to steer people’s attention and belief system to become even better sheep who dare not to think with their own mind but faithfully buying material gains to sustain a system that enslaves people.

God! Oh! my God! I did not know that I was a “sinner” born with original sin. I had a great time in the church, daydreaming and floating around everything that was sacred to my heart. Nobody understood the Latins or foreign manners. We had a great time experience exotic theatrical ritual and commune with the ” God ” who suppose to be all loving… Years later when I realized that we were born with original sin and we had to repent… That felt like a deep betrayal  that got our intimate relationship with God twisted and mixed up with shame and guilt. That “God” from the Old Testament who seemed even more moody than my parents was not a nice guy at all. This experience of living from the bliss of ignorance -because I did not understand Latin and had a misunderstanding of how God supposed to love me as “His” precious child. to waking up reading what was printed on paper that I was a sinner or some unworthy creature until I repent from something done before my birth by some people I had never met… and I need to self-deny like a slave to please ” Him ” in every way I knew how. This kind of betrayal was brutal to a teenager. I began to seriously consider if my previous loving relationship with God was only an one-sided adoration that was based on misunderstanding. If “He” was such a moody and easily offended guy, I truly did not need Him to be in my life at all – period.

According to the ancient records from Sumerian civilization, humans were genetically engineered to serve the Annunaki. Some scholar said it was an ET race who is like older brother to the baby earth humans. Other said Annunaki simply means from the above, so any ET could be called Annunaki since they arrived from the sky. According the the legend/myth/ancient records that humans were made to not be able to procreate and they were made to be slaves mining gold for the gods/Annunaki. Gold was important to maintain the energy field for the planets they came from. Maybe the Annunakis were tired of keeping on genetic engineering new human bodies to work for them, so some of the Annunakis experimented to engineer humans DNA again to have procreative ability… the legend said when the earthly humans began to procreate among themselves, the gods were very upset because  the earthly humans were so loud while mating among themselves that the gods could not have peaceful nights of sleep.

Sex! oh! Sex was something kids hush hush about. I was so bothered about hearing mom and dad doing that kind of thing that sometimes woke me up from my hearty playing in the dreamland. It almost made me want to go to the confessional booth to confess for them… then I would get myself into trouble because I supposed not to know such thing… until years later when I realized that all my friends mom and dad also “did that kind of things” or none of us would ever come out of our moms bellies… I felt so happy and so relieved.

With what I know now, oh, my goddess! Of course sex is a big deal beside genetic lineage. It also can be used as political mechanism for social orders and power generators, not to mention what today’s quantum physicians would say while measuring the energy field of two human beings linking up in such passionate loving way… What if the Sumerian records were true, and humans were genetically engineered by those who from ” the above? ” Ah! since they suppose not to be able to mate in the earlier part of their genetic memories, of course sex is a touchy issue down to the cellular memories. It was the goddess Inanna who gave the earth humans many gifts from the realm of gods including the art of lovemaking according to ancient myth and legend. Lovemaking is definite something else than just having sex… This also said a lot about why sex plays such important part in spiritual journey across all cultures. It ranges from sacred sex to the tantra yoga to the Taoist sex for immortality…then swing to a totally sexless life in order to be closer to “God.” Most mind controlled cults use sex abuse to create confusion and self worth issues to keep their followers controlled. These cults do not need to exist in a remote village but right in the open in the main stream societies where sex symbols were embedded into children’s animation movies… Virginity become a word that sounds like ballet – too difficult to continue keep up with it. In reality virginity has nothing to do with having or not having sex but a state of mind that was symbolized by an image of an ageless ancient maiden holding a mirror in front of her heart to reflect to whoever encounters Her Presence in each virgin moment. That was the true meaning of Immaculate Conception – truthfully reflect what IS in each eternal Now.


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It was said in the Bible and many other ancient text that gods were walking among humans in those ancient times. These records showed us that in those time many locations on earth were like New York City as part of the galactic playground where many races gathered and lived with one another. When I first arrived in New York City, I was so touched by the sight in the subway that all races sat next to one another reading their newspaper with all kind of languages…. What if all the ancient records, sacred texts, Bible, myth, legend… were all true, it only need some insight to ” see ” these records as holographic recorded “movies” instead just words printed on papers.

Belief system is a tricky business. We endorse it into reality by believing it. If we believe there is a God who is separated from us, living higher up in the cloud watching everything over us ( from outside in ), we then shall endorse a reality of a judgmental God who is actually emotionally insecure and have not even attained compassion and unconditional love but ruthlessly conquer ” His Enemies. ” Guess what?  We then might become judgmental and lack of compassion because we are “His Children.” A world filled with people who are diligently judging one another is not going to be a happy world. I have seen beautiful people who worked very hard to become “pure” and “less sinful”… often focus on what is wrong with the picture and clean off the stains from the shirt so obsessively… What if people’s sacred cows were just some programs to engineer’s people’s belief system as part of the ruling techniques?

Some people knows that God lives in our heart who is not separated from us or judging us ” from outside in.” The God lives in our hearts lives in everything, so there is love everywhere. How can the omnipresence create something like devil or Satan who is not part of itself? Thick Nhat Hahn, a living master in our time said- No Mud, No Lotus. This is such a simple truth to demystified the spell of duality.

Life is not about obsessively spending our lives to clear out the stains/ mistakes from the past and become as white as toilet paper… but about attaining wisdom through all kind of life experiences through water of life and through the collective unconscious that often feels like muddy confusions… From all that seems impossible, the lotus rise above the water, bathing in the sun and still deeply rooted in the mud, this is the symbol of Enlightenment, not just from the Oriental Buddhist tradition. Lotus was also the sacred symbol for the Ancient Egyptians.

Christianity on the other hand has it well intended but highly misunderstood history: For the first 280 years of Christian history, Christianity was banned by the authority – Roman Empire, and Christians were violently persecuted. This situation changed after the “conversion” of the Roman Emperor Constantine who was a wiser political leader than a religious devotee, called the Council of Nicea in an attempt to use Christianity for his social orders. Constantine masterfully played Christianity as a religion that could unite the Roman Empire, which at that time already began to fragment and divide. Constantine did not fully believed the Christian faith, but continued many of his pagan beliefs and practices, so the Christian church that Constantine promoted was a mixture of original Christianity and Roman paganism. Constantine played the belief system on his citizens like playing chess. He himself did not need to buy into any of these mental programs, but he cleverly lay these beliefs on the people he ruled over for his political gain. Of course religions need to be organized, because it is political power.

The Gnostic Christianity on the other hand is more close to the original teaching of Jesus, but they got persecuted by the organized Christian just like how original Christian got persecuted by the Roman. Why? Because these people cannot be “organized.” Their relationship with “God” was not a public one but a private one for God lives in our hearts…

Christianity, Judaism and Islam and their subcultures all share the same founding Father Abraham. Abrahamic religions place faith above all things meanwhile it seems like that these off springs siblings neither have faith with one another nor within their own subcultures. Please be compassionate with our soul siblings because that is not their faults, they do not know that mental programs can run so deep into genetic memories generations after generations… An entire belief-system is based on devoting oneself to a “God” with blind faith… This put quite some population in our world into an interesting mentality based on self-righteous. Self -righteous often has nothing to do with the truthful righteous because it is self-importance and self-glorifying oriented. We can only devote to the divinity that lives within our own sacred hearts from there we experience Oneness or it could be a dangerous business due to mind controlled programming that promote separation, divisions and conquering… Religious fanatic comes from the mind control programs. Yes, mind can be controlled and brain can be washed… To give our devotion to anything external with blind faith is a risky business.


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The Hebrew word for God in Genesis 1:1 is plural –  It is the Hebrew noun ’elohîm; the singular form is ’el and ’eloah. Why? Perhaps because they were the recorded experiences those ancient people encountered with those whom from “the above.” As days gone by it became organized religions before the arrival of Jesus. God became a concept instead of living truth from life experiences. Jesus said there was one law, love, that overwrite the Ten Commands. Jesus taught universal law and cosmic truth to those fearful people who feared their zealous “God.” That was very much like someone from an advanced civilization helping some tribal people seeing life differently…The organized political religious force did not like that… after Jesus got removed, the organized political religious force turned around to accuse the innocent people – Jesus died for your sins. They had done everything to turn brave hearts who are sovereign and tall-standing into herds of sheep who dare not to have private relationship with “God” but listen to the authority to translate what “God” says… Whoever did not fit into sheep class might get caught, burned as witches or evil.

Giordano Bruno (1548-1600), the Italian philosopher, astronomer, mathematician, and occultist whose theories anticipated modern science got burned at the stake because of the tenacity with which he maintained his unorthodox ideas of earth was not the center of the universe, but orbiting around the sun… In his final moment at the stake, he said- it is still orbiting right this moment…

If you have a degree on any science object, chemistry, physics, computer… you could be burnt as evil,witch or occultist in those days. If the “authority” found some books, or even just one book in your home, you could be charged as  heretics. You suppose to be the good sheep and follow the rules from the shepherd. You do not need to read books because you will misunderstand it, it is dangerous for you. Only the shepherds had the right to read the books. If we think this only happened in the Dark Age that were few centuries ago, we then in big error. Today’s google searching engine and many other searching engine is paved the way of an AI ( Artificial Intelligence ) – god to give people ” the right answers. Today’s social media like Facebook or YouTube create ” people ” in the cyber space… so instead of biologically people get cloned, they ” clone” people’s intelligence and characters through the posts from their mental bodies in cyber space. Occult knowledge simply means hidden knowledge. Our secret governments who own Secret Space Programs and having colonies in the bases of moon and Mars and colonies on planets beyond our own solar system definite having lots of ” occult knowledge ” yet they promote some belief systems for their controlled population  how to believe and how to act like good sheep. These people might or might not also believe ” God ” but not the kind of “God” they steer their people to be enslaved. This remind me of parents partying with their friends with lots of fun topics and good drinks and hors d’oeuvre that kids should not have… so good kids should only kiss the adults goodnight, and go to their rooms.

Holy books are wonderful things if we read them from our heart and understand them from the depth of our souls. Often we were taught to interpret those messages from our heads and from the heads of our teachers, parents, elders… they had also learned this way from their teachers, parents, elders… Good luck!!! We then might just become very judgmental, dogmatic devotees whose heads  are filled with fearful thoughts and often easily  offended while wondering how dare other people live outside their boxes.

The head shall never understand what the Heart always knows.

How can I share a deeper part of myself that is so far-out of boxes of programs and still pretend to be ” normal?” How can we still be friends if my living truth has been something that people have hard time to talk about? Sensitively I could only say – How come everyone is praising Emperor’s new clothe while in fact the Emperor has no clothe on??

What if many events listed in the Bible were true but not as interpreted by the political religious authorities who would like to lead people to perceive realities in their totalitarian mentality? We are the masters of our lives. There is no other authorities who are closer to ” God.” Nobody is closer to the God who lives in our heart than we do. We are not closer to the God who lives in someone else’ own heart better than that person does. If we all understand such simple thing, then there shall be world peace and a evolving humanity. Perhaps we then can become galactic humans who finally grow up, taking responsibilities as cosmic beings…instead of worshiping other cosmic beings who might be good sometimes, bad, and ugly other times and placed themselves as our gods.

What if many stories in the ” Bible ” are true but they were records of Extra Terrestrial  encounters? The word Bible is from Koine Greek τὰ βιβλία, tà biblía, means books. It is a canonical collection of texts sacred in Judaism and Christianity. There is never “the Only One Bible” but many Bibles with varying contents exist. Different religious traditions have produced different selections of texts. Believe it or not, if you trace the roots back to their origins, many of them were from the Sumerian records… These do largely overlap however, creating an important common core of belief system. Please remember that when Christianity started, it was treated as a cult and Jesus was “blasphemy” to claim himself as son of God… This is very much like when Buddha taught about the cosmic law that challenged the established Hinduism. The Authorities in each era loved to edit out the original versions of the sacred teaching simply because “kids suppose not to know such things.” The conflict between the old and new belief system was caused by the established belief system that did not want their established social orders and political power got replaced. The new belief systems often taught universal truth that were closer to the heart and soul… as soon as it got established, it was just as corrupted as the old ones. Now the ” kids became the parents, their kids supposed to kiss the adult goodnight and leave the adults having their fine wines and enjoyment…” What if we have a new society that everyone is an “adult” with awakened full consciousness?

Jesus did not say that he is the Only son of God… he called us his brothers and sisters. We are all sons and daughter of God not some unworthy bastards who had sinned before birth. The crime against truth and humanity here is to turn the Original Grace which is God’s love into Original Sin which is fearing a zealous and immature God. Ironically  it is not enough to just fear God, these poor innocent  people also fear evil who supposed to be “His enemy” Fear, fear, fear…

There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love. We love, because He first loved us. – John 4:18″


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To make such complex human dramas that often includes enslavement, human sacrifices,  and prostitution in all displays easier to understand, it simply come down to three highly charged words- Money, God and Sex. They all come from the same undigested power issues that seldom feels enough but often in lack and wanting more… more money, more closer to God and more sex to prove one’s own value.

All scandals are nothing but Money, God and Sex:

Who took the money that did not belong to him/her? Who were acting like messengers of God, made tons of money then got found out of having sex with the “wrong people at the wrong place and wrong time… ” The list is long but the causes are simple enough to not need other words beside Money, God and Sex. Fanatics would say – let’s cross these three words out of the dictionary of our lives, because they are the roots of all evil. Throwing the baby out with bath water does not speed up our enlightenment either. It is the misuse of holy books, we then suffer from holy poops. If money is the root of all evils we might need to  ask if poverty is the roots of all virtues and promises? If God lives in our hearts not someone outside of us, how could we get closer to God who is already inside our hearts? If Sex is sinful and eating an apple is unforgivable, let’s leave the zoo to the zoo keepers, and leave the laboratory to the galactic geneticists.. let the Hero’s journey lead us to our divine destiny…

Are we going to lead our youth to continue those mind controlled programs just because we ourselves had been through such experiments? If you belong to a spiritual community and someone claim to be the spoken person for the God who lives in your heart… well, I do not know about you and it is not my business to tell you what to do. I would run as fast as I can… There are all kind of organized religions, or organized spiritual community.. but who can organize “God? ” Who can organize the infinite? All religions talking about heaven, that means from the above, or from the sky. If you are a Martian who lives on Mars you would treat someone from earth as heavenly messenger according to your Martian perception of ” from the above.” We are going to evolve into galactic citizens, let’s expand our awareness out of the tiny boxes of our old tribal mentalities that often based on polarity consciousness of us vs them, good vs evil… What kind of creators we would like to be when we evolved into the guardianship for other much younger planets? Some zoo keepers? Some zealous gods/goddesses? Some ruthless and mad scientist alike geneticists?or the awakened daughters and sons of Divine/ The Great Spirit/ All That Is, who serve life and humanity with all our hearts and all our might.

Oneness has nothing to do with the sameness, in other word living in oneness is not about being Totalitarians. This is a big one. How do you know if the spiritual community you belong to is not a cult? Just look at people’s words and behaviors in such community if they think, act, talk like cookie cutters from the same company. Omnipresence would not want to create a boring universe that everyone think the same and everything fit perfectly for the perfect same outcome. From the depth of my heart, I do not mind if you think I am evil. This soul has gotten burned as a witch countless times when incarnated in some dark ages on this planet, but it shall not be this time. Like what Giordano Bruno said in his final moment – it is still orbiting right this moment, Jesus said in his final moment, Father, please forgive them for not knowing what they are doing…

I have no ideal what I would say when that moment comes for me. I do know it is going to be a long long time, most likely that day shall never come because this is a different time… Let’s put aside Money, God and Sex… and the difference of belief systems… and the programs we had been through… We are precious reflections for one another. We are the ones we have been waiting for – according to ancient prophecies from all traditions. Everyone on planet earth who still has a physical body in these days is a great soul- regardless if you feel great about yourself or not. We are all going to have a ride together no matter what we had been through, or what kind of beliefs we give our endorsement to,  or what kind of demons and obstacles we fought against and through… None of these matters any more. We are all here together, as splendid tribes of many colors riding on many waves… from a planetary civilization to a galactic one… in One Heart.

There is an ancient prophecy about this special event since the beginning of the time.

It has begun…

and We Are It.

The Labyrinth, The Minotuar, I AM …

About Labyrinth

“ Mendos, King of the Egyptians, had a tomb built for himself that became known as the Labyrinth, less remarkable for its size than for the inimitable ingenuity of its making. Indeed, anyone who entered the tomb could not easily find the way out again unless guided by someone who knew it perfectly. Some claim that it was after visiting Egypt and admiring the skill displayed in this work that Daedalus built a similar Labyrinth for Minos, King of Crete, and here, legend has it, was kept the monster known as the Minotaur. But the Labyrinth at Crete has completely disappeared, razed either by order of a king or by the work of Time.”
Diodorus Siculus
Historical Library c.60-30 BC

The symbol of the labyrinth can be found everywhere on earth: in Russia, China, Europe, Australia, Scandinavia, Africa, North and South America, remote islands, nameless mountains, and ancient caves. The Hopi have their styles of Labyrinth … the Hindus have their Chakravyūha / Padmavyūha with similar forms reflected in yantra and Mandala… and the Tibetans have their Thangka that often encode the stories of Buddist teaching in some visual patters similar to the labyrinth. It would not surprise me if someone has discovered labyrinths within the deep ocean cities or buried cities under the Sahara or Gobi deserts.

The labyrinth patterns have been living on earth since prehistoric times. It has lived here for tens of thousands of years, perhaps even longer, before the civilizations of Egypt and Greece. There were labyrinths in almost every culture and every land. Some labyrinth patterns are found in caves or on ritual objects associated with burials. Labyrinth patterns are symbols of eternal life. Some shamans used Labyrinth to time travel to other realms. The Ancient said it is the Vulva of the Great Mother – a gateway to the infinite existence.

Those double spiral patterns seem to have encoded the secret teaching of non-dualism since prehistory.

We can also find patterns of the labyrinth in sacred geometry, such as the Flower of Life and crop circles. We can find it in our own fingerprints, in our brains and intestines. We can find it in the seals of our energy field, and in the energy patterns of our own DNA.

— Indeed, we are all walking Labyrinths.

Labyrinth’s stories can be found in those fascinating writings, about the initiations of ancient civilizations, including those of the Egyptian mystery school and those of the American Indian nations. We have read encounters of the adepts or youths who went through a rite of passage that could either cause physical death or the becoming of greatness. Imagine how it feels when you enter from one doorway as one state of being then come out a different person in a different reality with altered perceptions … From this aspect, the labyrinth is encoded in the Mandala, and in the Tibetan Thangka, and visual patterns in different parts of our body and energy centers,,, Labyrinth as a symbol / portal / doorway / the Vulva of the Great Mother  reflects our state of consciousness and constant transformation through a journey called – Life.

The word PREHISTORY has its subjective point in space/time. In the quantum field, those who live in “prehistory” have every reason to call us the “post-historical Homo Sapiens …” Since everything exists through perception, this civilization that reflects our consciousness at present time would be described as primitive from another view. I shall not assume that we are more advanced than those who lived in “prehistory.”

From the cave paintings before the Stone Age to the Labyrinth patterns -carved in ancient bones and rescued- from some Chinese medicine shops, labyrinth patterns have been discovered in places that we would never dreamed of… As civilizations have risen and fallen, Labyrinths have shifted from a holistic spiral view of existence into some kind of maze filled with danger and temptation. Some people say there is a difference between a Labyrinth and a maze: the one with the double spirals is a Labyrinth; the one without is a maze.

Personally, I am seeing that – the one with the double spirals symbolize the labyrinth of our life; the one without feels like the maze of our intellect. Our intellect is often filled with yes/no, or single sighted moral code that traps us inside the maze of our own delusions. When we understand the significance of non-dualistic spirals, we shall be able to transform, and to transmute, and to transcend all that limited us to be who we truly are.

Imagine this: if we time-travel to the old days when everybody believed Earth was flat, those who said that Earth was round were clearly “irrational“ and evil. Belief system plays a fiundamental part in the human psyche. Anything that threatens one’s belief system could be accused as evil. The rational part of humanity often condemns all that seems irrational or beyond the box of its beliefs as evil.

That notorious Minotaur inside the maze is definitely e-v-i-l in this case.

Even the logic that cut the line between the rational and the irrational is often like quicksand, with beliefs shifting from paradigm to paradigm. The Chinese would call this human drama “the fantastic intellectual pride that actually block the direct knowing from within.” Intellect is not ” bad.” There is a place for the intellect just like there is a place for the maze in life. Everything has its place and value in life. When misused, or overdosed, then it becomes something that is against life, the backword of live is evil.

Intellectual pride is truly an amazing maze.

Perhaps the same is true for self-importance.

Then, who is the Minotaur inside this maze?

At the center of the Labyrinth is the sacred space. Some call it the Void, other call it the Center. Passing through many dimensional gates, when we reach the void we are in the unified field, and the identity of “us” and “them” simply vanishes… This profound realization is not encouraged by the traditional organized beliefs institutes… because “us” means good, “them” means evil. Without the countless dramas of good and evil, life might feel boring for those who have to be good and right –according to their standard.

At the moment when Buddha reached his enlightenment, he was confronting the Lord of Desire, Mara, whom he had devoted his spiritual life to fighting against. Turned out when he finally faced the face of Mara, he faced himself. That invincible evil was only a reflection of his fragmented shadow-selves. Instead doing one more battle he simply sit like the Himapayan mountains, allow all weathers and storms passing or raging around him in great serenity.

When Buddha reached his enlightenment, was he in the unified field?

Was Buddha arrived in the center of his own Labyrinth?

One culture’s evil could be another culture’s life.

One paradigm’s virtue could also be another paradigm’s vice…

What will it be like when evil and life merged in the center of the labyrinth, like the Chinese Taoist symbol of Yin and Yang… or like Lao Tzu riding on his indigo buffalo vanished in the field outside the Great Wall after leaving his knowledge Tao-Te-Ching to the gate keeper from the Hain Gu Gate. Could it be the collasping of holograms like some sci-fi movies?

What will it be like when we find ourselves dancing in the unified field with no return?

What will it be like when everyone on earth is enlightened?

What will it be like when we realize that

-the Observer in the quantum field is the Lawgiver?

Why are there Labyrinths everywhere since the prehistory?

Where are those vanished civilizations?

How did they come up with a sophisticated symbol like labyrinth?

Could it be that the entire civilization had ascended through the unified field?

Had this happened many times?

What do our fingerprints tell us?

What about our DNA?

I leave this journey within the labyrinth to you, my friend.

The secret of this journey is:


Be your own most trustworthy friend.

About Minotaur

The story goes like this:

Once upon a time, in the ancient land of Greece, a legendary baby was born. He was of noble descent and could have been a prince or -a future king because his mother was King Minos’ virtuous Queen Pasiphae. Unfortunately, the other half of his DNA came from an odd source – not from King Minos but from a sacred bull that came from the ocean to be sacrificed to the gods/goddesses. King Minos saved this magnificent creature and sacrificed another bull in its place. This disobedience offended some gods/goddesses.

Gods/goddesses are beings that have not yet reached their enlightenment. They live among humans even to this day. You might say that they are archetypes of our dimensional aspects. Some of them are truly awesome cosmic Beings; some of them are easily offended creatures. We know that easily offended equals lack of security. In this case, to prove their power, they did something entertaining for the after dinner cosmic TV show…

Suddenly, our virtuous Queen Pasiphae had an irresistible passion for this sacred bull… and the baby was born… half human, half bull. We do not know the origin of this bull. Those Greek gods had reputations of seducing female humans in the form of animals. Remember Leda and the swan? And Zeus and Epropa? No movie has been made about the journey that Pasiphae had to go through

-a virtuous fine lady lost her mind for  the sake of her yearning?
A queen mother gave birth to an odd looking child?
Had she ever thought about her future career?

The good news was that her husband loved her unconditionally. Unlike some small-minded husbands, King Minos loved this child and named him Asterios, King of the stars. Being a good father and a faithful king, he went to the Temple seeking guidance. Well, just like what happen in today’s mass media, where organized beliefs institutions, politics and the cooperative business are sleeping in the same bed… like an angry teenager swearing from a mixutre emotions of blaming, self-imporatnce and a sense of needing approval:

— F— you, get lost!
The oracle told King Minos to
“Conceal this shame.”

Conceal this shame? The true crime here is to turn a sweet-hearted father into some fearful, shameful, and unworthy creature. We don’t have too many external oracles today, but we do have TV and newspapers worse than the crapy oracles that programing the collective mass conscious of all kind of wants and needs into the collective trance . The Chinese would say—Borrowing a knife that has someone else’ name to kill the innocent. Who were the real puppet-masters here?

It was decided that Asterios must be put into the labyrinth, despite his birthright and divine intelligence. As days went by, nobody remembered Asterios anymore but the taur of Minos-Minotaur.

Not unlike other episodes in history during which human sacrifices have been performed for countless holy names, for political ideals, for money markets and traditions… In this myth human sacrifice was performed for the Minotaur inside the maze.

— Human sacrifice for the Minotaur inside the maze?

Has the alarm rung yet?

All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone! – John 8:7

No one can take myth literally because it often speaks in paradoxes, very much like the symbol of the labyrinth, filled with crystallized clarity and bewildering complexity. Since it is not black or white, it becomes controversial. One of the controversial parts of this myth concerns the “hero,” Theseus, who slew the Minotaur.

Buddha did not slay the demon king that was his altered ego. He transformed his fragmented shadow-selves into Buddha. Isn’t worshipping some gods or slaying some monsters out there, an irresponsible act for those who have mastered themselves? To call someone like this a hero would be an insult for one’s own intelligence. What Jesus did in his 40 days in the wildness was to confront the Minotaur in the labyrinth of his own mind.  The voices of Satan were the voices of the shadow selves of humanities: self-importance, betrayal. greed, deep wound, revenge, sorrow, self-pities, victimhood… feeling separated from the divine and from one another,  or laying conquerer’s sword outsise oneself instead of facing one’s own contradiction… Jesus did not lay his sword on someone outside himself. Scapegoat is for hypocrites. Masters do not need any scapegoat.

While everybody applauded Theseus in those labyrinth workshops and spiritual gatherings, I was secretly “ falling in love ” with the Minotaur. His true name was Asterios. I then decided that I would never put myself into any gathering that only offers dinner party tales for spirituality no matter how much I love those beautiful human beings who gave such workshops.

Walking around the Metropolitan Museum in New York, visiting those magnificent cow goddesses and bull gods from different civilizations, I wondered when did those awesome cosmic Beings become shrunken and twisted into a monstrous form called Minotaur?

From my perspective, Minotaur is far more interesting and trustworthy than any hypocrite who is only a want-to-be, with no depth and no integrity. Hypocrites are always politically correct. And hypocrites will always find a scapegoat, a dragon, a monster… a witch or a Minotaur out there to kill. I would rather go to dinner with Minotaur who might not look handsome in his tuxedo, than go out with an expensive persona, boring hypocrite.

When people criticized Jesus for spending too much time with tax collectors, sinners and prostitutes, he simply replied:

“These sinners might reach the kingdom of heaven before you do.”

Yes, Minotaur might just reach his enlightenment before some hypocratical VIPs.

The difference between Minotaur and hypocrites is very simple: Minotaur often realzie that he is a hypocrite, and feel very uncomfortable about it… then going through inner journey of denying, negociation, fighting… until all parts of himself had played out their cards and recognized one another as one integal being, then the healing toward the wholeness become a reality. On the countray, hypocrites would never see themselves as Minataur.

Minotaur is simply being himself. Through it all -isolation, hurt, and hardship, confusion, inadequcy… and some senses of betrayal. He evolves by being where he was at to where he would like to be through dreams, visions, nightmare and trials… and tremendous strength, while hypocrites deny their own tuth but busily meeting other people’s expection and ideals. unfortunately hypocrites have to live inside their own maze until they can be trustworthy for themselves. How do I know this? Because I had been under the skin of both hypocrites and Minotaurs… I understand both in intimate depth and I made my choices and paid my prices. Omnipresene is Omnipresence… From the depth of my heart, I know that Jesus, Buddha, every masters who had ever walked this planet walked through their / our own inner labyrinth, befriended with Minotaur and healed the fragmented shadow selves..

As human beings we all have our moments. Consciously or unconsciously we all know hypocrisy well, because that is a convenient dance step… The day when we confront the Minotaur within and forgive our own limitations is the day we start to to meet all parts of ourselves face to face without judgement… but unconditional love. We love our jorueny of being human. It is a divine odyssey played out through humanity. We are in the midst of it as each card laid out on the table of divine to reveal who and what we truly are in each eternal Now.

Back to the “hero” Theseus…

With the help of Asterios’s half sister, Ariadne, he traced his path through the labyrinth by unwinding a ball of golden thread provided by her. Ariadne was madly in love with her hero. Was she a teenager then? She also told him where Asterios slept and when would be the best time to attack him while he was asleep. Minotaur was “murdered” while at a disadvantage.

The most popular version of this story is that, after a bloody fight with Minotaur, the Hero found his way out with the help of the Beauty. This version would definitely have a better box office than the other versions. We have a “wholly” Trinity here— A Beauty and a Beast, plus a hero. This kind of drama does sell well.

Later, Theseus abandoned Ariadne on the island of Naxos with the justification of “hearing the voice of God” — in his case, Minerva.

Hearing the voice of God or hearing the voices of some wise beings is a very tricky business,,,  How do we know that was the voice of ” God ” or the voice of some wise beings or simply the voice of Satan? In modern term the voice of Satan is the voices of our shadow selves who were fighting to be heard and to be healed…often these voices like to tell us how surpreme or how not supreme enough we are compare to others… Unless we had integrated defferent layers of ourselves, we might just get lost in the maze of our own thought forms and self-important delusions, then suffer from a deep sense of isolation.

Was Theseus a real hero or an authentic opportunist?

Those who applaud Theseus and Ariadne as a divine couple don’t even mention this part. This is not a good dinner party subject for those who just want to keep everything nice, and to keep a smile on everyone’s face.

Poor Ariadne, your hero was not as trustworthy as you wished.

Perhaps this was only a reflection of your own deed.

How many parties were held for his victory?

How many dark nights must you cry alone?

Had you ever dreamed about your half brother Minotaur?

From his sleepless blood bursts your deeper quest —

Oh, yes! In the darkest nights of our souls journey, we have learned to be friends with Minotaur -who is never out there but right inside our deepest fear, inside our ethical conflicts… and that ghostly shame and guilt … Minotaur lives right inside every hurt, every rejection, every prejudice and the thousand names of unhappiness. The daggers from a child’s eyes are much more dreadful than a monster inside the maze. And the bleeding heart wounded by frozen passion is much more unbearable than thousands of poisoned knives. The most unspoken part is that we know from deep within that we have participated in all those lies — consciously or unconsciously. As children we were often getting punished by telling the truth but getting reward by learning how to lie… We know there were moments when we could have made a difference by speaking up, yet chose to be silent… Perhaps — some of us forget how to speak the simple truth because we forget about how to be simple. Perhaps — some of us did not know how to voice different views from the mass media or from the ones we love … or from external authority. Perhaps, by not voicing our truth we might avoid changes … Is this where those ghostly shames and guilts come from? Why should a baby feel shame and guilt about its own poops?

Everything that we had ever denied in life experiences fell into the laps of Minataur…

Poops were food only in few hours difference. We were programmed to love the food but feel unconfortable with the poop… Is there something not quite intelligent with this picture? The same with life expereinces: We love new expereinces that exciting us but we do not know how to transmute the energy when the experiences were not fresh food any more, but digested into wisdom and something else called poop. Perhaps learning about  how and where to poop is just as important as learning about what to eat? We poop with grace and thankfulness because if we can’t we might need to see a doctor. We do not poop on other people’s altars and we do not eat holy poops given to us through beliefs that do not serve our evolutions any longer… When humanity start to resepcet one’s own poop without feeling uncomfortable, nor arguing for one’s own limitation, we then become as wise as animals who have neither problem with whose own food nor whose own poop but living with naure in harmony.

Another archetypal character that parallels the Minotaur is the demon king Ravana in the ancient Indian legend Ramayana. Ravana was born to a great sage Vishrava and his wife, princess Kaikesi.  later he became a devotee of Shiva. A great scholar, a powerful ruler, a master musician… excellent in many performances in life, Ravana was also a handsome devil for many noble women left their noble husbands just to be in his presence. He was depicted to have ten heads, ten pairs of eyes and twienty arms that showed his supreme intelligence, all seeing and powerful actions as a great ruler… He had tremendous charm, talents and strength that even Lord Shiva was touched by his repent:

Ravana had decided to bring the mountain Kailash, where Lord Shiva resided, to Sri Lanka in order to surprise his mother. As he lifted up the mountain, Lord Shiva was angered by his arrogance and pushed it back down… Ravana was trapped. The King of Lanka then torn off one of his own arms and made a musical instrument, ripping out sinews to form the strings- the same kind of charm a mafia God-Father would display: He used this newly invented instrument – ravanhattha – to sing the devotional songs of Shiva, creating melodies of profound beauty that made Shiva weep and forgive him…Ravana was a hero in many traits but his heroism also blinded his true insights.  In his journey of becoming ” greater ” he lost his connection to the One Heart of all life-steams  but craving for more and more knowledge, more and more power and more and more “greatness..” There is a fine line and a subtle turn in the labyrinth of the human mind.. No matter how ” great ” Ravana became, he did suffer tremendously by overdosed pleasure seeking, over self confidence… and endless ambitions. ” More ” could be a powerful spell that create more the lacks… He could not distinguish his ego from his true essence. The death of Ravana was epical:

After firing the fatal weapon on the battlefield of Lanka, Rama the incarnation of Lord Vishinu, told his brother, Lakshman, “Go to Ravana quickly before he dies and ask him to share whatever knowledge he can. A brute he may be, but he is also a great scholar.” Lakshman rushed across the battlefield to Ravana’s side and whispered in his ears, “Demon-king, do not let your knowledge die with you. Share it with us and wash away your sins.” Ravana simply ignored him. Lakshman went back to Rama complained: “He is still as arrogant as he always was, too proud to share anything. There is no repent in him.” Rama soothed his brother and asked him gently, “Where did you stand while asking Ravana for knowledge?” “Next to his head so that I might hear what he had to say clearly.” Lakshman could not see his own arrogant reflect back to him by Ravana but reply dutifully. Rama smiled, put down his bow on the ground and walked to where Ravana lay. Lakshman watched in awe as his divine brother knelt at Ravana’s feet. With extreme humility, Rama said, “Lord of Lanka, you abducted my wife, a terrible crime for which I have been forced to lay justice on you. Now, you are no more my enemy. I bow to you and request you to share your wisdom with me. Please grant that for if you die without doing so, all your wisdom will be lost forever to the world.” To Lakshman’s astonishment, Ravana opened his eyes and raised his arms to salute Rama, “If only I had more time as your teacher than as your enemy. Standing at my feet as a student should, unlike your rude ignorant younger brother, you are a worthy recipient of my knowledge. I have very little time so I cannot share much but let me tell you one important lesson I have learnt in my life. Things that are bad for you seduce you easily; you run towards them impatiently. But things are actually good for you fail to attract you; you shun them impatiently too, finding powerful excuses to justify your procrastination creatively. That is why I was eager to abduct Sita but avoided meeting you. This is the wisdom of my life, Rama. these are my last words. I give it to you.” In less than one breath, Ravana died.

The dreams and nightmares from that time line become a archytype of the merging of humanity and divinity. Ravana’s wisdom did not get lost but integrated with the divine wisdom in Rama, the incarnation of Lord Vishnu; Minotaur’s wisdom did not get lost but merged with a new humanity that understand the depth of abyss fearlessly. Again, Omnipresene is omnipresence, hence comes the unconditional love.

Behind the stone walls
Your tearless cry
The last unconscious dream
Buddha wept
Your sleepless blood
The first
The Christ
The baby
There is a dance between
The legendary Minotaur
The Vulva of the Great Mother
Oh —
Nature’s untamed passion
Is never a cup of nice afternoon-tea
For nice hypocrite’s
Sweet tooth

A song
We sing
Echoing in the labyrinth of
Accompanied by the
Howling of
In quest of
Eternal love

From the blood of
King of the Stars
Other selves
Comes the
Blazing flame
That turns the superficiality into


Love in motion

Weep for the
That was left
Once arise
Never return…
Dance the Labyrinth
That is the true
In us

— Asterios
Of the
That is the true name
For the

From the burning
From the double


Who you are

Now …

About I AM



Aware of





Weavers of Time

There are people in our life that are so preciously understated. Some of them are our loved ones. Others are strangers. Our lives would never be the same after passing by the shooting stars that awaken our hearts.

As an ambitious young dancer, I could not recognize those timeless ones in the streets of New York. They were the shape-shifters, excellent in disguise. Some of them looked like homeless – with an exceptional pleasant aura, others are pretty ordinary, like the faceless passengers on the subway. Something in common were those penetrating glances that could make people uncomfortable if any of us were some pieces of the self-important broken thread… 

We have bought into the programs of certain values and certain conditions as the measurement of success. Success has nothing to do with our self imposed importance but has everything to do with our awareness. Do we see ourselves as a piece of thread in the tapestry that is more colorful than the other pieces of thread? Why do we want to be a piece of special thread when we realize that we are actually the entire tapestry?

Furthermore, how about if we are actually the weavers who can weave all kinds of tapestries from any piece of simple thread – brilliant or dull, broken or whole? If this is acceptable and becoming our living truth, we then free ourselves from this third dimensional matrix and become our multidimensional awareness.


Followed the subway map directly to the Lincoln Center Plaza where the most famous performers made their legends. Oh! How much my young heart was yearning so deeply to be on those stages too? That was the first day when I arrived New York City. Perhaps I was too confident to learn the games of the world but single pointed focus on my ideal of perfection, I could not see the whole tapestry yet.

There were artists selling crafts across the street. I always thought my arts should be adored on the big theaters around the world, not on the street. Well! My feet had their own mind – there I was, standing right in front of a table piled up with beads, handmade crafts and crystals. It looked like a pirate’s treasure chest. The man behind the table looked like a pirate too. Wild hair, wild eyes, wild clothing, must be someone from the 60’s, I keep my observation to myself.

” Black coral! Aey? ” He greeted me with his dictionary eyes beamed blue rays at the pendent on my neck. It was my first day in New York. I was not comfortable talking to a stranger wield like him. Pondered about my feet had their own mind, I shifted my weight just a little. “A dancer, hum? Wish to perform in the Lincoln Center someday??? ” Now, the pirate turned into a tribal looking chief, with sunshine dancing on his carved, wrinkled ancient face. Was he a fortune-teller? Did his eyes just change from blue to brown? What did he do besides selling crafts on the streets? Answering his questions with silent smiles, I had more questions about him than he had with me. Standing next to him was like standing next to a pine tree with its thick bark, broad branches covered with resin and moss and long history of witnessing the coming and going of dwellers. A sense of coming home made me aware of some other levels of communication — as if his eyes were saying to me: “Remember–You shall remember. You are one of us.“ This time he looked like an old priest from the Atlantis.

I remember Atlantis …  I have always been there beyond space/time … 

We were extremely intelligent, beautiful, and free. Different races from different galaxies time-traveled to this beautiful planet in this part of the galaxy. The frequency of earth was much higher then. Some of us come to this beautiful planet to do research, others came for seedling. We did not call it earth; we had a special sound for it, something like Al-ho-ro-la similar to the code of aloha.

We did not live in a confined linear time nor trapped our realities with only five senses of seeing, smelling, hearing, touching, tasting. We had far sights and far memories, we remember our origins and our histories of traveling among the stars. After developing the civilization there, we look more and more like the earth human. The arts, healing, science were one thing in our realm. They were not as separated and compartmentalized as in today’s civilization on earth. This is like in a human body, the legs, arms, head, torso should be working together unless we got ill the same with art, healing and science working together as one. There were times I was a male scientist working with crystals, sounds, genetics and space/time  travel… other times I was a priestess in the healing temple working with also crystals, sounds, cellular memories and inter dimensional traveling. Even in this third dimensional incarnation, I could travel effortlessly to my beautiful Atlantis homeland, dancing in the huge temple that has the pillars made of the crystal selenite… It is not about travel to the past lives but one with that point of consciousness in no-time. The secret of inter dimensional traveling is to go far-in, not far-out.

There were great sorrows in the ending period of the Atlantis. My sister A-le-lu-sha , the high priestess of the Healing Temple, ascended in that time. I did not, because I was still in polarity consciousness, wanting to right the wrong, save the world… I could not see differently with the awareness I had then. My sister A-le-Lu-sha had always been one of the greatest inspirations that I have ever experienced in the Book of my Soul. We both had the bloodline from the Lemurian civilization. In the early time, the Atlantis respected their senior civilization – Lemuria. The priesthood of the Atlantis would send their youth to learn from Lemuria. In the later period when the density of this earth began to increase, these two civilizations became increasingly unfriendly… It was not just about two races but many races, many time lines and many agendas multidimensionally. The rest of the story was about the destruction.

WAR means We Are Right. When we got too self-righteous and forget about oneness, everyone who crosses our paths could be wrong if we choose to be so ” right. ” War become the final equation when both sides are ” right ” and both side wants to right the wrong.

My sister A-le-lu-sha had integrated the finest intelligence and wisdom from both civilizations, seeing the unseen, unconditional loving and free, she had completed this third dimensional earth school and ascended to another frequency. A mother, a teacher, and a friend to me, she has always been with me in the inner plane onto this day. Just by writing about this, the frequency in my room raised  and I am in bliss. As a lost child I was in my perpetual searching… seeing the conflicts, crying for justice, carrying the soul drama of Messiah complex… and often get myself into polarity consciousness. Many times we dance as one, especially when I was on stage performing my dance-theater works. When the New York Times gave me an excellent review of my work – “Daughters and Sons from Atlantis,”  and praised my work being ”imaginative and strangely soothing“ I felt honored, thankful and politely swallowed the word- imaginative. The truth was that A-le-lu-sha was dancing through me … I was not my body. I was the dream of Atlantis.The audience and us were in the grids of the Atlantean consciousness, we simply transported ourselves together into a different space/time. People in New York and people in Atlantis shared visions in their souls. I did not imagine it. I was it. Truth is simple. When we are not simple enough, we do not know how to speak the simple truth. It takes me a long time to unlearn what we had been taught from the social programming and become simple again.

I love Atlantis. There is no death. We are all here again! The streets around me turn into the roads of Atlantis. I see people from Atlantis walking around in different bodies, different names, different clothing. Yet, the same pride, the same soul cry …

— Oh, that is a belt. I carved it myself—
His voice brought me back to the streets of New York. I did not realize that my hands were moving like a child picking shells from the sand. Shells must remember Atlantis. Do they?

-Total magic! I would like to make things as magical as what I saw on this table. Had I just time traveled again?

There were tourists taking pictures around us. Curious and hungry, I remembered that I was also a tourist on my first day in the streets of New York- in this lifetime. I did not know then that I would actually stay in this city for another 18 years. Where was I? From the pirate, to the Indian chief, to Atlantis, then to the memories of the shells… The air in the sunlight held the records of Atlantis. Triggered by his blue glances, I found myself in many places with the same pair of eyes.

Fame? Why does a traveler want fame from the lands she passes through?

“So you remember Atlantis! ” A whale-looking mouth breathing holographic records, he shifted again. You see! There is really no secret in the universe. We are open books. We are speaking each other’s mind. Human beings used to be able to be in telepathic communication with one another and with animal kingdom, plant kingdom and mineral kingdom when we all lived from the heart. The Fall mentioned in the Bible was the fall in the consciousness. All human histories from different cultures had the records of flood and the Fall… it was because people disconnected their head from the heart. Brain is like a computer. Soul reside in our sacred heart. Many people could not enter the sacred heart because too much pain and emotional hurts from souls’ trauma, so it is easier to just get the knowledge from the intellect without diving beneath the surface. Intellect is only one function of processing ideas and datas . the portal to our spirits/ Higher Selves/ God Within is through the sacred heart. The brain can only function in the hologram, that is everything external. When we mistake the external world as the ” real world ” and dismiss the real world that lives in our heart, that was the Fall.

I did not remember what I bought from that pirate’s table. I could only see those blue glances from a pirate to a chief to the priest from another time. Again, I saw the chief dancing next to the bonfire, his daughter dressed in blue feathers, gently invoking the spirits of the land… I saw the deer running in groups, drinking clear water from the sea green… I saw an old writer pulled away by the soldiers of Rome, after singing his politically incorrect poems in the marketplace… I saw the eagle rising, soaring, spiraling in circles, turning into a tiny dot and gone…

He was not there the second day when I visited again.

The third day –no,

The next week –no,

The next month –no,

Never did I see him again in my 18 years journey in the city of New York.


I left New York City three weeks after 9/11, did not plan so but my destiny led me to the Pacific Northwest. 

On Sept, 11, 2001, I was on the Fifth Ave, 55 street on my way to my ballet class, led by Zvi Gotheiner, at City Center. I was just got off the subway feeling wield about why the streets were filled with so many people, each had their face twisted in anguish, sad, fear… looking toward the south end of the island. I turned to see what they saw, my heart was sinking and bleeding… twin towers were flaming. In a very strange sense this felt very familiar as if either I knew this would happen, or this had happened before. A nuclear that sinked some ancient land… long time ago, but felt like yesterday in the memories of my soul.

We were too sad to expressed it through words, so we danced the most beautiful ballet class together. We danced for the dead, for the injured and for the injustice… the energy in the class was so strong that we were all whirling like spirits. I felt that I left my body again one with the flames that consumed the twin towers and one with those souls that passed over from such violent human sacrifice. I knew in my heart it was not what the mass medias said. They were controlled and bought. They were puppets, liars and compartmentalized intellectual slaves… they were our brothers and sisters too. Unlike in the time of Atlantis, this time I shall not right the wrong in polarity consciousness but healing in oneness. Love heals… No matter how hard it was to love such criminals… I choose love without fear.

There were no subways. Someone told me that underneath the streets of New York City, there were gas pipelines. So if those pipelines got lit up, we would all be roasted. No Fear. There was a  great beauty in depth of the New Yorkers. We used to joke among ourselves that we did not waste time to be nice and phony; we did not mind to be mean and ugly because we were New Yorkers. We were brutally frank and we loved excellency. We enjoy so much of accomplishing next week’s workload yesterday. There we were, no bus, no taxi either… only people walking, millions of us walking, in deep contemplation.

That afternoon, me and Stephen, an ex lover and forever soul sibling to me,  met and stopped at the sidewalk bought us each a glass of red wine, toast to those sacrificed brothers and sisters… smelling the flesh and bones burning… no more tears but a new chapter of being.

I lived in Little India around 27 street and Lexington Ave. Many of my neighbors were Muslims. Their faces were gray from such shock and worries about potential riots. I walked to their spice stores, restaurants, Sari shops comfort them to pray to their God for there is only one God / Buddha / All That Is / Great Spirit. If you are a Christian and you hate Muslin, you then have not  yet understood what Jesus taught. We are all God children not puppets of the Cabals. Together we stand; devided they rule. That night all kind of races gathered in many parks… No Riots At All. Sorry, Big-Brother-Puppet-Masters! New Yorkers were a bit too intelligent to be manipulated…yes, we smelled flesh and bones burning; yes, there were altars everywhere and candles burning in every corners; yes, we were sad and angry, but we know how to channel that energy for something constructive. We were tough New Yorkers. There shall come a day, ” You” – you know who I am talking to – you will face what you have done in your souls … you shall face tremendous pain… you might even choose to never deal with power again… Please remember we are one. I, for one, choose to love you and forgive you. Hope you shall learn the same. We all reap what we sow. Truth could be even more brutal and ruthless than everything you have ever done. Truth shall set us free too. “You” have been so proud of being such bad asses, We know how that feels because we all lived through the soul traumas from the Atlatis…

We went to the ground zero for witnessing. The policemen became New Yorkers’ heroes. New Yorkers seldom had heroes. We were our own heroes. There we were, being so tender and warm with one another. The Cabals did not expect that they could not divide us but brought us ever more closer together… Silently, moaning, in our souls and hearts we recognized our brothers and sisters speechlessly, and we reflect our strength to one another…

We were Daughters and Sons From The Atlantis.

There were still people got dug out who were still alive. One evening I did a healing meditation in my room, sending them strength. Suddenly I felt as if the monthly blood rushing out of me and the entire floor was flooded with my blood. My inner guidance told me to continue sending healing energy to the dead, the family of the dead and to the ones who were buried but still alive… I sat there did the inner work. When I opened my eyes, there was no blood on the floor, not even from me. I realized that I was sitting on their blood. So I made a deep promise then, from my soul to theirs. I told them that a big part of me died with them– which was so true. I only performed in public twice since then. those two occasions were not even theater performances but shamanic ceremony. I gave them permission to send me their visions and dreams in service of humanity. I shall help them to complete to the best ability I could offer. In less than three weeks, I got a phone call for coming to a retreat in the Pacific Northwest. I did not know then I would be leaving New York forever, but some of my classmates in my ballet class knew. Dancers are like yogis, or yoginis, we were so fine tuned with our different bodies, physical, mental, emotional and spiritual.., being psychic is just a by-product. When we hugged one another goodbye, they were sobbing, I too had tears streaming… I joked with them – hey, only two weeks, don’t miss me too much.

… In different towns, different times, I see that pirate/ chief / Atlantis priest in my own crafts of magic hats, magic shawls, Magic wands… crystals creations,  and my own tables in the art-fairs, festivals and showrooms… I see him in my mind when I get my hands dirty and tough, making things magical for my table of wonder and for the enchantment of a different kind of audience. I see him in the glances from strangers… and I see the young me in those who visited my table. They were open books to me just like I was to him… I talked to some of them in silence – Remember! You are one of us … and I saw their eyes beaming smiles to me in silence… Oh! You precious souls who have been kings and queens, saints and villains… You have been the kindest healers and the most ruthless warriors… You have been Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader… You heroes, patriot, traitors, warlords, conquerors and conquered, farmers and nobles… sons, husbands, fathers, grandfathers and nameless ones… many wounds from the same war cry… How many battle fields have you been through? Do you remember the star wars? You delicate flowers, proper women and dragon ladies, holy virgins and harlots, witches, queens and empresses…daughters, wives, mothers, grandmothers… the honored and the condemned… many faces from the same flame …How much tears and blood had you shed into the soil of Mother Earth?  

I – See – You.

No matter how brilliant or how great you were in your other lifetimes, you are much wiser now than ever before in your humble searching trying to remember something greater than your names, bodies and personal dramas… This so called physical reality is a hologram, a nice playground, but it is time to wake up and to complete a very long march, repeated, and boring, forgetful almost endless cycles. The long march is over and the cycles is near the end. Wake Up and Remember Who & What You Are.

I am grateful for everything life has brought me. Life is a much bigger stage. I did not miss my previous career, although I missed my friends, associates, audience from the depth of my soul. We had shared most profound time together heart to heart, soul to soul. And I carry their beauty and strength with me wherever I go.

I am comfortable with the threads, broken or whole. I know that I have never been alone. For we all weave our destinies together like shooting stars. Sometimes traceless and faceless, other times blazing bright… Noble ones are often unseen, like the threads… invisible, whirling rays… you and I are one.

We are the ones we have been waiting for. 

We do not belong to time.. We are weavers of time …

Blue Sea, Mulberry Field and The Peach of Immortality

Ma-Gu asked Wang Yung: “Since obtaining the Tao and taking in the order of heaven,

I have seen the Blue Sea become a land of mulberry trees three times already.

Shortly before I went to Penglai and found the water about half shallower than before.

Can it be that landmass would soon rise from the sea again …”

-Ancient Chinese Legend

Ma Ma told me that I would be dancing a most auspicious dance on Gung Gung’s sixtieth birthday. Gung Gung was my grandfather on my father’s side. He was a well respected scholar who had students from many lands.

Ma Ma said that his students would hold a grand party for him … and I was to be the Deity Ma-Gu offering him a Chinese classical dance called: “Ma-Gu Presenting the Peach of Immortality. “ Mom said that Ma-Gu was a heavenly maiden who had lived hundreds of thousands of years in the appearance of a youthful maiden. She also said that the phrase “Blue Sea and Mulberry Field” represented the fleeting nature of worldly affairs and had been in use for thousands of years.

“A little girl like you is innocent enough to present great blessings through dancing the deities,” Ma Ma said proudly. I often thought that there were many things mom would like to do but she thought she was too old, so I became her “other self” to perform these dreams.

Father specially offered one of my dance teachers, Lady Chan, to be my tutor for this dance. I was to be very deity like to honor our family tradition. My little world was filled with important people in those days. Both sides of our family told us historic stories to remind us how important it was to keep the reputation of our family shinning like the mid-day sun. It was much easier to dance the deity than to live peacefully with important human beings since important human beings did not necessary liked one another.

Lady Chan taught me that each movement should be very slow. The communication was in between the movements with my focus and intent. It was called the Rhythm of Spirit instead of the rhythm of flesh and blood. My Chinese dance teacher did not approve of my ballet lessons. She said they would only destroy my gift of subtlety to become a fine Chinese classical dancer. Lady Chan told me that I should not treat the Peach of Immortality as a prop, but treat it as the real mythical peach in my mind, and I should not only do the dance steps but to become the Deity Ma-Gu herself. Which was actually not hard at all if you could see Her in your mind‘s eye.

“The Peach of Immortality” was mounted on a golden plate. Lady Chan taught me how to dance with that golden plate in a figure 8, like the symbol of infinity. The Peach should float around without people noticing it was moved by my hands and I should float around it like the clouds circling around the mountain. Nobody should notice my movement but only see the Peach and I floating up and down, like sky and rivers dancing together into the Ocean of Enlightenment.

Finally Gung Gung’s birthday arrived. The party was held at one of the finest restaurants where Golden Dragons and Golden Lotus Flowers were carved along the walls, huge longlife candles  burning like guardians of the temple and live musicians playing ancient Chinese ceremonial tunes as if a heavenly feast just about to take place. After putting make-ups on my face, Ma Ma added a red dot on the center of my forehead. That was a signature for the deity Ma Gu coming through me. My younger brother, Little Gold, said that I looked as old as my aunt.

There was neither stage, nor audience seating. People were everywhere. I asked mom where was the front. Mom said wherever Gung Gung sat would be the front. I should only think of dancing my purest intent for his longevity and for the happiness of all his guests.

Step by step … very, very slowly approaching Gung Gung, I was the very deity Ma Gu from an ancient painting: long hair, long sleeves, long skirt, long ribbons, long earrings. Everything was long to symbolize a very long life for my beloved Gung Gung. The Peach of Immortality was floating from heaven to earth… to the smiles on everyone’s faces… to the pure intent that danced from my heart to every external movement. I gave my purest blessing with every breath and every glance for him and for all his guests. After the dance was offered, all the guests held glasses of shimmering wine and toasted for Gung Gung’s longevity.

Gung Gung was the Emperor that night.

He had the brightest smile while watching me offering him the Peach of Immortality.

I knew in my heart that he was very proud of me.


Soon after that night, I got a gift from Gung Gung. It was a very big book that smelled so good. The brownish cover smelled like leather, the pages smelled like a fresh forest and the words smelled like sun rays and thunderstorms whirling together. Gung Gung said it was a dictionary.

“A dictionary is like a sacred temple of words that contains all the meanings of every word you could ever think of.” Gung Gung proudly raised his palms like an ancient scribe announcing an oracle.

“Hmm!??? Every word I could ever think of? Impossible!”

First, I looked up our family’s last name. It was the name of a dynasty. “Wow! This book knows exactly how important we are.” I sighed with confidence, meanwhile the adults were laughing with their eyes rolling. Then I looked up every word in Gung Gung’s name – It knew exactly what Gung Gung’s name was made of. Then I checked the names of every adults and my brothers’ names and mine… Again, every single word I could think of was in this book. Then I checked up Ma-Gu, Blue Sea, Mulberry Field and The Peach of Immortality… It told me more than what mom had ever told me. It said the Blue Sea could become the Mulberry Field and the Mulberry Field could become the Blue Sea.  It said that everything could be turned around, upside down, and inside out in this transient world. When we said someone had been through blue sea and mulberry field, it meant someone had a life filled with challenges, ordeals and upheavals to meet ones own greatness.

According to the legend that the Chinese are the off-springs of the Dragons. The Emperors had always been called “True Dragon.” That means a true Royal Blood. I had always wondered, if we are all the offsprings of the Dragon, then what was the real meaning of a True Dragon? I guess this might be something like wondering which church is the real church for the real G-O-D.

The most amazing thing is not only that this wondrous book had every word for everyone’s name. It also had words for different kind of dragons and different kind of mythical creatures. It even had words for the “barbarians” who were the surrounding neighbor countries of China… For thousands of years the Chinese thought that China was the center of the entire world, so every none-Chinese was a just a barbarian. Later in life when I traveled to different cultures and different lands, I noticed that almost every race had the same prejudice against the outsiders. Then I realized the real barbarians were the ones who were mixed bags of insecurity and superiority complex – an attitude of superiority that conceals actual feelings of inferiority and failure.

This book made me realize that I did not know enough so I was very busy checking up word after words, meaning after meanings, page after pages … I wanted to become a good scholar like Gung Gung someday.

Sometimes father would let me read my writings in front of Gung Gung. They both would smile when listening to my reading. Perhaps those were the rare moments that father and Gung Gung were in good communication.


Gung Gung was a scholar landlord in the province of Jiansu, with many wives. Father as the first born of the first wife who should have inherited the land but he walked away. Being a scholar landlord was actually a very respectful lifestyle in the old China — that you worked with the land that producing food and you were also cultured in your mind. Later when the communists took over the massive lands of China, landlords and intellectual people became “the enemies of the People.” Gung Gung and many other intellectual people had to escape to a different land. Most of them ended up on the island of Taiwan. The two sides of my family would have never met if the communist had not held knives over their throats.

Father had knotted emotions of both love and deep hurt toward Gung Gung who was a better teacher than a father. All Gung Gung’s students adored him and treated him like their own father. Father felt like an orphan among Gung Gung’s scholar party.

There were quite some reasons for that:

According to the customs most adults would give children a red envelope with some money, or gold coins, or silver coins during the Chinese New Year. Father had saved quite some silver coins throughout the years. When he was thirteen years old, Gung Gung was going to go to some big cities right after the New Year. He asked father if he would like to buy a pistol. Of course father would love that. So he gave Gung Gung all his savings for his first pistol. Then father waited and waited until months later finally Gung Gung came back home from the big cities… There was no pistol for father except another new wife for Gung Gung himself. You can imagine the deep sense of betrayal and indignation father felt from such early age, not to mention the emotional dramas from his own mother – the first wife of the scholar landlord. It was actually quite normal in those times. Children and women had no voices.

There were five most important relationships that formed the age-old Chinese society:

Heaven – Earth -Emperor – Parents – Teachers.

Have you noticed that couples, lovers, siblings, cousins… friends, were not as important in the old value..

Gung Gung as a scholar landlord and a father and a teacher, he was just one rank below the Emperor, of course he was the lord of his clan.Teacher in the old China was highly revered. It was said since time of antiquity that – a teacher for one day equal a father for a lifetime. This simply showed that only the privileged people can be educated and have some knowledge… this was part of the ruling strategy. When the majority were stupid, they won’t cause big problems. Look at today’s so called free world western education- it is an illusion that people are educated because most people cannot think with their own mind independently. It is the same ruling strategy to avoid the people truly tapped into their own power… but having the illusions of being free and powerful… The best way to control slavers is to make them feel they are free and in charge.

As a teenager boy father left family to fight against the Japanese invasion. I often thought how strange it was for a first son of the first wife of a landlord to leave his land… Father told me that in those days different provinces were occupied by different military groups: some provinces were occupied by the Japanese, Some were by the Communist, some by Kuomintang… and some still by the old warlords or gangstera alike. In order to travel back home to visit his mother, father had to have different currencies with him that could cost his life if being accused as spy. It took a great deal of courage and plan to travel through different occupations. Once when he was on a train fell asleep. A Japanese soldier woke him up asking for ID. Then he began to searching through father’s body from head to toes. When his hands reached the the left boot there was a bulk of something in father’s sock. The Japanese soldier said- what is this. Well, that was the currency for the communist occupied provinces… father was as silent as a dead mouse thought to himself that he would be shot to death the next moment. Then the Japanese immediately touched father’s right boot, another bulk of something was waiting to be discovered. Fortunately it was the Japanese currency in that sock. Father took this opportunity said with confidence- Money – in Japanese language. The Japanese checked that boot and realized father did not ” lie ” so he saluted father a good trip and passed to the next seat. Father would risk his life just to see his mother who was not cherished by his father…

When his scholar father escaped to Taiwan with group of his students, father went with the Student Army to the same island. All those mothers and sisters were left behind to stay with the land. Since father fought for his country in his teens, he got a scholarship to study Law at the best university – The Taiwan University.

One day father met Gung Gung on the street unexpectedly. Without a handshake or a proper greeting, Gung Gung asked him: “What are you doing in this island?” Father was very hurt by such encounter. I guess that they might just not have been the best friends in their previous lifetimes.

Mom side of family considered Gung Gung’s lifestyle was totally old fashion and unthinkable. I did not realize all these dynamic when I was a kid. Now I can see so clearly that mom side of the family were libertarians who perceived realities from the  international point of views while father’s side was conservative whose realities boxes were pretty local and regional. They were happy in their own lands and had no desire to see the much bigger world. The mentality between two sides of my grandparents were about at least one century apart, of course they could not relate to one another. For some strange reason, I, the granddaughter, understood both side from the depth of my heart through love and adoration.

There was something very mysterious about Gung Gung. Father had few words to say when asked about Gung Gung. He would just say:“ This is not a child’s business.“ If you had questions about anything, asking mom. Mom might not know what she was talking about, but she would always have some answers for you.

I used to think that Gung Gung was the President of his school but mom said that he was only one of the scholar teachers, though a famous one. I then thought maybe someday Gung Gung would be the President for our country, but mom sighed that was impossible. I asked mom what Gung Gung like the most? Mom said she was not too sure – maybe books and women.

Mom was also one of Gung Gung’s students. She met her teacher’s son over a ping pong table. She was 16 and he was 29. Nai Nai said that father was an “old man” who was almost twice mom’s age when they first met. It was father’s fault to seduce a young girl to fall in love with him. Well, maybe it was the other way around… After father passed, I found out from his diary that he was so taken by mom and felt so vulnerable to fall in love with a girl much younger than his age. With what I understand now, it probably was mom who wanted the attention from the son of a good scholar just like most teenage girl would do. Father was handsome and intelligent, he must be the topic for those girls students. Mom was a beautiful girl from a great family, of course she could get almost whatever she wanted. Plus mom had seen much more in real life from big cities in both Europe and China plus her rich life experiences from her regal family background while father was a country boy who learned everything in life by himself through pretty hard life. Beside being handsome and intelligent, father has a special presence called Gu- chi. It means the chi/spirit had penetrated his bones. That was an expression of someone who stood on his principles, and would never sell himself out for money or for fame or for personal gains. Father might be older in his physical age but mom could be older in her experiential age. I know this by heart. I had the mental age of a 30+ years old in my teens… some people can be 40+ years old but still a teenager emotionally. There is a natural attraction among humans that we are curious about other people who are raised differently than us. It is intelligence itself wanting to experience life with new awareness, that is why most romantic relationship started with so and so is interested in so and so. I myself was in love with some country boys even though I had much better performances and status in the so called real world… We are all great souls come to this world play out some holographic ” movies ” to enrich our souls desire of becoming Life itself. Great souls do not have to be kings nor queens nor great leaders… but country boys and country girls to simply enjoy an earthly delightful life without countless responsibilities and trials like their other lifetimes as kings and queens… The biggest seduction is curiosity which is only a sign of life wanting to know more about itself. It really does not matter who “seduced” whom first. Good job! Mom and dad. Thank you for everything you had ever done that allowed this being called – me, to have a new kind of intelligence from both side of the genetics, integrated.


Many things happened dramatically after Gung Gung’s birthday. One of them was that Gung Gung went into a hospital. It was not the kind of hospital where most people went. It was a hospital where crazy people got locked in. It started from all the hush-hush from adults… then visitors, then bodyguards from the hospital… then Gung Gung was taken away.

There was no secret in a small town. Soon our classmates knew that our grandfather was in a mental hospital. Little Gold, Little Firewood and I had gone through very hard time being ridiculed by our school mates. I thought our family was important… there we were facing all kinds of prejudice and whispers behind our backs.

One day I was in tears running home to seek refuge. A group of boys from my class were trying to cut off my hair simply because my grandfather was a mad person. They said that one day I would also go mad, so it was good for them to remove a future threat from our society.

Mom said they were just jealous about how smart I was. I asked mom if I would become mad someday? I would rather die than being a mad person. Ma Ma said that Gung Gung’s madness was not caused by our family blood but by some unclean women. That was the part of Gung Gung’s life that father had a hard time to talk about. Ma Ma said I should have nothing to worry about.

I would not tell my classmates that my grandfather got his madness from unclean women. That would make things even worse. Guess what?! I made up a brilliant lie and told those boys the exact opposite. I told them that I had the madness in my blood if they chose to mess up with me then they were going to be very sorry. A crazy person could do many things that a normal person could not even dream about. I then show them children books of the biographies of Napoleon, Gaius Julius Caesar, Joan of Arc… look, none of these people were normal. In the meantime I was the champion girl who just got more and more championships to show – how unfortunate they just did not have this kind of madness in their blood.

It was fun to play games like these. They were always in group and I was always by myself. I did not remember when did those boys become my friends who took turns to put flowers on my desk from time to time? Once I lost a championship in a lecture contest, they got so upset and accused our teachers for the injustice. I had to smile secretly to myself about their friendships. After Gung Gung went mad I became much older than my classmates, even though I was the youngest one. They were just kids but I was not any more. I became so complicated just to protect myself and my brothers. Nobody was going to mess up with us. If they did, they might have to remember us for the rest of their lives.

Once Little Firewood came running toward me with tears and blood all over his face. It was done by the same girl whose family was very prejudice toward us since… She was bigger than Little Firewood, but she was not the biggest kid yet. I made up my mind and made up a prayer:

“Oh, dear God, Buddha, Jesus, angels and all Saints… please give me strength just to do this once and for all. I shall marry one of you when I grow up someday.

 Amen! “

I then found her and skillfully punished that “chicken brain” while she was alone.

“Nice and clean, now walk away calmly,” I said to myself.

Now it was her turn to cry and went to her teacher. Her teacher held her hand, came to my class and asked her to point out who did that. She pointed at me. I said nothing, but stared at her as if it was she who went mad, not my grandfather. Then those boys stood up and told the teacher that was impossible for I was the smallest kid in my class. They said I would never do anything like that. Now she was crying and cursing madly. Later her mom showed up acting madly too. They behaved worse than my grandfather. If they mess up with us again, they should be put into the same hospital where Gung Gung went.

You might get curious and want to know what I did to her. Well, it was a secret between God, Buddha, Jesus, angels and all Saints … and me.

I had no problem to be a little dragon lady if I had to. I would not mess up with anyone if they did not mess up with me. I gave myself some little principles from my little personality:

If they did once, I shall pray for them…

Twice, I shall pray for forgiveness …

Three times, I shall pray for permission for what need to be done.

“Turning your other cheeks” from the Bible teaching sound saintly but in reality it is truly stupid. There shall be not many “other cheeks” left to turn around. I was totally at peace with this. Let those who want to be sheep be sheep, and let the dragon lady be the dragon lady – only if necessary. It takes some complexity to be crazy. Now I am not afraid of being crazy any more — I like to be crazy.

It gives me the privilege to stand outside the box mocking those who stay inside.

 It gives me courage to roam from land to land and live with the unanswered questions.

It gives me pleasure to stand alone and be free. I have no problem of being crazy no matter how many others might.


Gung Gung lived a pretty long life.

Father bought a house with some gardens next to ours just for him to live near us. Father said that nobody could live in a mental hospital for too long. He did have some good friends who helped Gung Gung to be released from the hospital. There were times father had to have a body fight with Gung Gung just to get him to take a bath. My job was to bring meals to him, clean his plates and chopsticks with a special kind of detergent for sanitary purpose and to greet him few times a day. Little Gold and Little Firewood were naughty that sometimes they offended Gung Gung by imitating his body language and making fun of it. In return Gung Gung would chase after them trying to give them some lessons that made them crying in terror… Gung Gung was gentle with me and in my heart he was normal.

There were many tears, confusions, hush-hushes in those years. My very important family members gradually forgot how important we were. We were just trying to live with prejudice, hurt, hope and some simple joys over our humble dinner table. Little Firewood and I became addicted to championships. It was great to bring some smiles back to father’s aged face. He loved champions more than we did. Mom loved those even more…

 Little Gold did not give a poop for any of these things.

He said: “ The tails of a peacock and a turkey are actually the same. The only difference is the way we view the colors. Why give so much importance to the ways people viewing us? “ He was the center of attraction for many girls. Ma Ma was happy just to know that we all had our “places” in our little world.

Neither do I remember when did I stop perform the dance of Ma-Gu offering The Peach of Immortality, nor do I know what happened to those costumes and that Peach. As years went by, I became skilled enough to dance high technical ballet. Every dance group had its opinions toward other dance forms. I did not even mention to other ballet girls that I was once a “deity.”

Gung Gung left his earthly life when in deep sleep. There was no pain, no drama.

I was the first person to discover this when bringing him breakfast. He had a peaceful smile on his face like having a sweet dream. I said:” Good morning, Gung Gung.” There was no answer…

It was a grand funeral. His students came by the busload. After all those years of isolation he was still loved by his students. He got some make-up and was dressed up in a blue silk robe sleeping forever in peace. I was still trying to comprehend why he smiled in his final moments.

Had he not suffered enough?

Did he know something that we did not ?

What was he thinking in those moments?

The good scholar looked like an Emperor again in his final ceremony. One of his cousins who was the only woman in his clan escaped from the communist, were there too. She was also from the old world. Crying loudly as if having a Chinese Opera performance, she screamed: “ Oh, oh, oh, my good cousin…oh, oh, oh, how could you leave us behind.” She screamed those “Oh. oh, ohs” throughout the entire ceremony. Little Gold, Little Firewood and I had to keep elbowing one another to stop the giggling while constantly bowing and prostrating to our guests according the the old tradition. We honor Gung Gung with the Old Way.

That night, Gung Gung came to visit me in my dreams. He cupped his hands and bowed to me as if I were the elder. I was that little girl again wearing the dance costume of Ma-Gu. There was no peach in my hands. None of us were sad. When I waved good-bye to him, there were golden rays between us.

I was a deity on his birthday, then a little dragon lady after he got sick.

I had realized that important people also had important secrets.

I had witnessed how shy kids like Little Firewood and I could become ferocious winners for the family reputation, and amazed by Little Gold who had totally different views to just walked away.

I knew in my dream that we would meet again.

What would it be like when we meet again? Maybe I will be the grandma and he will be the grand-kid … Maybe I will be a wise writer and he will be my young reader … Maybe I will be a great teacher and he will be my student. Who knows?

Blue Sea, Mulberry Field …

Pistol in Each of Her Pockets

Mom said that she wanted us to have a kind of mom that she herself did not have.

Nai Nai as a young lady was too great for a time that women had no social status. Most women in those days could not even read in Chinese but lived with bounded feet.  It was said that the highest virtue for a woman was to have no talents, no intellect intelligence, not even to have the greatest look for the fear of destruction. In order to show their respect to her, men had to treat her as one of their kind. People respected her so much that they had to call her “Sir.” Nai Nai’s own brother called her “Good Brother” Her own nephews and nieces called her “Good Uncle” with great reverence. When I was old enough to know that my grandma was a woman, I was very confused about why my granduncle calling her ” Good Brother ” and why my cousin uncle and cousin aunt calling her ” Good Uncle. ”

Nai Nai was the head for two orphanages during the time of World War II.

She would ride a horse rushing to her orphanages through the mountain roads with pistol in each of her pockets, when the Air Raid Sirens rang. Mom, aunt and uncles each had their own milk-mother to protect them. Deai Deai had his own duties to fulfill, he was not around either. Mom said that every time when the siren rang, she was so afraid that she might never see Nai Nai or Deai Deai or any of her siblings again…

Nai Nai told me that mom, aunt and uncles had much better lives than any of these orphans. Nai Nai was going to give all her might to protect them since more and more children entered the orphanages as days, weeks, years went by.

It was not easy to be a female leader in a patriarchal society in her time.

Those men got very upset when the first day Nai Nai sat on chairperson’s seat in a social bureau meeting. They refused to listen to what she had to say in stead they asked ridiculous questions to insult her. One of the questions was to ask her to explain why the ancient script said that the most deadly poisons were from a woman leader’s heart? Nai Nai did not buy into their emotional dramas. She calmly said to that man that she believed his own mother would have much better answer for such question. She said to those men to not mix their personal confusions with the great tasks upon their shoulders. Together they had so much to tackle during the WWII…

Nai Nai must have won their respect because years later she was elected to be one of the two senators from her own province- Zhejiang. She was a petite young lady with long black hair framed her delicate face, played the best piano, cooked the best dishes… spoke seven International languages: English, French, Italian, Spanish, German, Latin, and Chinese and she was not even five feet tall. You would not know that she might have pistol in each of her pockets.

Ah! Mom also did the same thing of standing apart from her mom’s value and priorities in life. Where had mom learned to be a Chinese Holy Mother kind of character? From books? Movies? Ideals from the Catholic church? or from her milk-mother?

Deai Deai was one of the representatives for the Chinese Government to sign the paper for the surrender of the Japanese Government. After the war Deai Deai had four major newspapers in Shanghai, two in English two in Chinese. Because of his position many politicians wanted to be his friends and enjoyed so much of gathering in his home sharing intelligence. When Communist started to make waves, both Communist party and Kuomintang wanted him to be the spoke person for them. Deai Deai did not take side, he only spoke for the People. Such attitude had offended some authorities and made himself and his family on the top blacklist.

One day right before he was ready to go to one of his offices, his private driver, Lao Chan, told him to not go, instead they must go to airport to run for their lives before it was too late. He told Deai Deai that an assassination was arranged and everything was in perfect place just waiting for Deai Deai to finally enter the trap. In a very short time, everyone in the family was in the car to the airport. Deai Deai asked Lao Chan why did he want to risk his life for Deai Deai’s family. Lao Chan said that he and his family respected Deai Deai and Nai Nai profoundly. They were the hope for the people. His life was nothing compared with what was on the shoulders of Deai Deai and Nai Nai. Hours later, Deai Deai, Nai Nai and mom, uncles and aunt landed in Hong Kong, my youngest uncle was only a baby then. Perhaps about the same time the honorable Lao Chan who saved the lives of Deai Deai’s entire family got killed.

I would not be here to tell such story if not because Lao Chan changed life course.

They stayed in low profiles in Hong Kong about two years. Nai Nai then was known not by what she did before but by her excellent sewing skills that allow her to make a living for her family. In the meantime their lives were still in danger. Finally they made the decision to move to Taiwan, a tiny island with a history of colonial cultures with Dutch, Japanese, Chinese… and native people.

In the Chinese history, Taiwan was given to the invaders often when China lost the war, then it was back to China again, when China won. In some dynasties they send the real criminals mixed with political incorrect people to Taiwan. This is not unlike Australia and New Zealand to the British. So the offsprings who lived on this kind of lands often were either misfits, rebels, or extremely out of box, independent thinkers who were not interested in building more height to the so called ” traditions. ” Now this island was the last place for the Kuomintang to retreat to.


The founder of Kuomintang was Sun Yat-sen who was a medical practitioner turned into a Chinese revolutionary and the founding father of the Republic of China. Do you know what does this mean? This means that this humble man  from south China ended thousands years of ruler-ship by the Emperors, kings and queens to allow common people to have some human rights. There were all kind of rebels throughout the Chinese history, most of them either got killed if they failed or becoming the next Emperor if they won… Sun did not take that path but truly wanted the best for the People of China. He was the provisional president who did not have military power. In his ideal of uniting China he ceded the first presidency to the military leader Yuan Shika. This Mr. Yuan did try his best to become another Emperor but he did not live long enough… After his death China was divided by warlords while the Kuomintang was able to control only part of the southern China. Later led by Chiang Kai-Shek, the Kuomintang formed the National Revolutionary Army and succeeded in unify most of the Chinese provinces in 1928 until its retreat to Taiwan in 1949 after being defeated by the Communist Party in China. Kuomintang is the sound translation of two words: Kuomin is the citizen of the Nation. Tang is party. So Kuomintang means The National Citizen Party.

My father was only a young boy who joined the student army for Chiang Kai Shek’s visions of defending China against Japan, later against the Communist party. It was then called A Hundred Thousand Young Men, A Hundred Thousand Soldiers. In fact, not all of them were even young men yet, many of them were teenager boys. After Japanese lost the war, more troubles everywhere from the inland. Father had a different view about how the Communist ” defeated ” Kuomintang.

Father said that most farmers had no ideas about which side was which side after the Japanese invasion, warlords, this group and that group… Some Communist armies would enter a village, capture the old and weak, women and children to march with them. They came up with a pretty good ideal of putting these people marching in front of their tanks and soldiers,,, no weapon, hands raised crying for mercy marching to the next town or village… the armies that defended those towns and villages could not shoot these innocent old, weak, women and children… so the Communist armies took one village, one town, one city after another… and their newspaper said that the entire China welcome the communist armies to liberate them, they did not even fight back. They said that every village, every town and every city was celebrating of being “liberated” by the Communists.

Does this scene seem familiar in today’s world of globalists’ ideals of open boarders and wondering refugees? The difference is that today’s refugees were not just innocent old, weak, women and children any more but armies of invading terrorists in disguise. The so called “liberals” who were most likely either too lazy to research, or too ill informed to think independently or got bought by the deep pockets to act like some kind of fake sages to defend for such scheme. These are not true liberals but corrupted mind controlled slaves. To call themselves as the liberals was not just insulting their own intelligence but also turned beautiful word ” liberal ” that supposed to mean open minded and openhearted people who are capable of creating a better world into a word that means narrow minded haters who spread lies and display hypocrisy in a very distasteful manners and eventually destroy the commonwealth.

Propaganda are ancient games since the beginning of the human politics. It was defined in the Oxford Dictionaries as chiefly derogatory Information, especially of a biased or misleading nature, used to promote or publicize a particular political cause or a point of view … Any country with huge populations but little support of good living standard for its people often suffered from propagandas.

Now I shall invite you to take a look from your mind’s eye –  father as a teenager boy fought for his country and taught himself about life every step along his marching with the student Army; mom was only a little girl with her blacklist family running for their lives… They could be killed at any moment in their youth but somehow they survived and arrived in the island of Taiwan in their own timing. Who was the invisible choreographer behind the scenes?


As soon as the ship arrived at the island of Taiwan, Deai Deai was arrested by the already stood by army as a “spy” from the Communist. Nai Nai was in a strange land with her six small children in total shock. She then wrote to Chiang Kai-Shek about their history of serving their country and People…  she also wrote about why they chose to came back to the old China to serve their country instead of having better lives teaching in the Europe… Chiang Kai-Shek then released Deai Deai and offered Deai Deai to be his spoke person for his official newspaper – The Central Daily News.

Deai Deai thanked the offer but very skillfully asked the permission to retire from being a newspaper man. He said that he was “too old to think clearly,” He would be grateful to just have a peaceful “old age.” “This was the way Deai Deai kept his principle to only speak for the People and not to be used as a political puppet. He got a mercey of retiring from his brilliant career as a newspaper man at the age about 40.

As a child I did not know much about the Kuomintang nor the Communist party, nor wars, nor any long histories these people carried in their lives. I did not know the persona of being successful and the deep sadness of great souls feeling frustrated with political bull poops, personal endangerment and a sense of incompletion for serving their People… I did not know that mom and father were from totally different social background… I only knew that I need to behavior extremely well at my grandparents’ parties where many important people whose names were all over the newspaper were coming.

Father would be eagerly shaking the hands of these people saying something like: ” I have read all your articles on the newspaper and I am definitely with you.” or something like : ” Your speech last week was so brilliant, I am very honored to meet you. ” Mom would be busily introducing us to these people and displaying how well taught her children were. Uncles and aunt were handsome and beautiful, all well dressed and well mannered. Nai Nai would maintain a smile of serenity observing everybody including how father shaking hands with those guests and keeping her thoughts to herself… I was embarrassed for father again, wondering why he could not attune to Nai Nai’s feelings like I could… and why he could not simply say the right things even though I have no ideas about what was the right thing he supposed to say. Deai Deai would just drink one glass after another while carrying on conversation with his natural dignity… then in the height of the party, suddenly he began to lecture those politicians and famous people alike about how foolish were their views and their ridiculous articles… since he seemed like already drank too much, so he could say anything he wanted to say without being arrested in time of ” public enemy went to jail.” He even said to Nai Nai in front of the guests that the reason why the country was so weak was because it was run by foolish politicians and women like her…

Nai Nai would be so well mannered and lovingly helping Deai Deai to retreat into his private room, then immediately pulled me aside, asking me to go upstairs giving Deai Deai a massage while being the most gracious hostess making sure every guest was in good spirit. Nobody seemed feeling offended by Deai Deai’s lecture because he was just “drank too much”… they respect Deai Deai as always but Deai Deai was out of the game quite long ago.

Sensitively knocking the door asking permission to enter his room, I greeted Deai Deai with the most pleasant manner taught and rehearsed often by my mother since I had memories. He was neither angry nor much drunk to my eyes…

He would sit there like a Buddha telling me : ” Never touch politics, when you grow up, understand?! ”

Very pleasantly I would say: ” yes, I shall not touch politics. ”

He then asked me what would I like to be when I grow up… oh! I had to be careful to not tell him that I wanted to be a great dancer flying like a swan. So I simply lied and said to him: ” I shall be a good doctor or a good lawyer.”

He then clapped and nodded to me: ” Good choices, I shall always support your dreams.”

Then he would ask me: ” Do you know how to count from number 1 to number 100?”

I said: ” yes. I know how. I can even count to 500 for you, if you like me to. ”

He then asked me to use my tiny fists as hamers to hit on his calves, counting from number 1 to 500, while he snored away…

Nai Nai then would open the door waved me to her and let me know that I had completed my mission…

This happened more than once, and it became like a theater ritualistic performance…

As years went by I could count from number 1 upto 1000. In the very beginning Deai Deai was not drunk at all, he was using drinking as a way for himself to speak truth to those who still having influence over the governmental decisions… then he did drink more and more, and snored away much sooner. I would look at his deep resting face worried about what if someday he would die? And began to cry… what could my tiny fists do if he passes away?

I was too little to truly understand the deep pain in his heart, something like how did he feel when he remembered Lo Chan? He knew too much and he could be killed at anytime if he was still a newspaper man… he was not made to be a puppet… So he dive into other realms of knowledge like Chinese I-ching, mythology, healing, studying Japanese, International Trade, playing golf…almost everything with sophisticated disciplines except politics, Then he drank and spoke his truth… He became more and more isolated into his inner realms, talked less and less, contemplated more and more. His presence was felt wherever he went, nobody dare to mess up with such presence. The older I become the more I understand those significant moments of being with him… I am utterly grateful.


For the longest time, I always thought that I was not interested in politics because I was an artist. Our arts never lie to us. When the deep voices came out through my works, I was so surprised about how true artists were actually very political people because it was about well fair of the people and the fundamental principles of  Life.

Those precious and intense time with Nai Nai and Deai Deai taught me many things that I could not have learned from schools, nor from books. They were the living books and they were everything excellent apart from being mediocre. It seems that today’s school system was about programing our youth to fit into the systems and teach them to be nice mediocres without questioning. Mediocre can be a nice thing as long as it does not against the excellency with self-imposed limitations. The systems do not need independent thinkers. All they need is technicians in different fields to keep the matrix functional. Those systems are crumbling, signs are everywhere. As humanity, we need to dive into the depth of our eternal essence instead of becoming robotic technicians, living in the compartmentalized mental boxes, only to deliver certain tasks to make a living but have no time for life itself.

There are some spiritual teachings that preach about ” no-past.” They ask their students to not even mention the past – a new taboo by a new rule that prevent people to be in touch with their life experiences. No-Past could be interpreted as everything happens in life does not exist but only this moment counts… Some spiritual fanatics become masters of denial because the past does not exist anymore, why bother? This moment shall become a past moment, therefore no matter what I am engaging now, it shall not exist next moment, again, why bother? There is nothing to integrate because all the past were gone… This kind of mentality only showed that whoever invented such philosophy did not realize that all past. present and future co-exist simultaneously. Without integrating our past, the entire humanity shall have no future. Maybe the reason some people were lingering in the past was because they had not finished the unfinished business yet. Why not allow these innocent souls to complete what they wanted to complete, to integrate and to allow the wisdom to be realized?

All those great beings in our lives who seemed to only belong to our past are still exist right in this moment with us all. They are in our breath, in our deep psyche, and in our heart and soul… They are fully present with us in this eternal Now.

Many fundamental beliefs in our world were deeply rooted in the mind control programs. One culture’s sacredness could be the profanity from another culture’s point of view simply because they live differently. Evil is only the backward of l-i-v-e.To be a free person we need to be free from some old mind-sets and look deeper beneath the surface of these seemingly best selling “untruthful truth…”  We need to see clearly why these kind of beliefs are promoted and why they are not our circle of trusted friends.

There were countless brilliant people bought into Communist beliefs just like those followed Hitler. How can we tell if what presented to us were beautiful propaganda packaged under leaderships like Lenin, Stalin,Hitler and Mao who were charismatic at first then turned into tyrants? Or something genuine like a wake-up call for the humanity from Martin Luther King?

These slogans below were powerful, but the fruits from them were nothing beneficial for the People except mass destruction.

” Workers of the world, unite.”  – Lenin

Education is a weapon whose effects depend on who holds it in his hands and at whom it is aimed. – Stalin

EinVolk ein Reich, ein Führer – “One People, One Empire, One Leader” – Hitler

Service to People – Mao

They all brought lots of “hope” for their followers and made tidal waves in their times, had they lead their people to the Promised Land? Or surprised them to the cliffs of no return?

Now take a look of these two:

I Have A Dream – Martin Luther King

Yes, We Can – Obama, his true name is Barry Soetoro. And he is not even born in the land of American.

Well, I Have A dream truly inspired us all to continue our dreams for a better world and a better humanity. We are with you. In all ways – always. Dr. Martin Luther King!

Yes, We Can – Of course, we can, you are the one who can’t. Barry Soetoro. You have betrayed the people in this land. Are you a Communist? a globalist? or simply an A.I handled CIA creation?

Now look at what President Trump has to say. Against all the odds from the globalist brain wash propaganda systems  he simply said- Make American Great Again. and Peace Through Strength, It was political incorrect in the very beginning from the views of so called global family. Now people are waking up. Make American Greater Again and Peace Through Strength became the ” of course ” principle in this land. North Korea, Iran, Syria… China, Arabia, Japan, Israel… are undergoing transformation, and the awakened population from all lands are co creating a world that shall be peaceful through strength of all kinds of disciplines and knowledge and actions. The entire world is great again by each leader making their own land great again. This is happening right in front of our eyes. It is definitely not propaganda.

Perhaps one of the ways of freeing ourselves from propagandas is to educate ourselves to be responsible and to be in touch with our innate knowing. We then shall be clear enough to not buying into the seductions from the land of toys, games, foods and drinks… and the land of no schools, no disciplines, no responsibilities… then slowly turned ourselves into donkeys. and got sold as donkeys… just like what happened to the puppet boy Pinocchio and his donkey friends.

Even though I do not carry pistols in my pockets, I do have a mind and a heart of my own. I am my grandma’s and my grandpa’s granddaughter.

Mom’s only sister

Aunt Celebrating the New was mom’s younger sister who passed quite some years ago before mom’s passing.

Mom always said that I was rather like Aunt’s daughter than her own. For the longest time I did not understand what mom truly meant?

Mom and Dad used to match Aunt with some of dad’s friends. Those were all respected men with honorable professions like engineers, professors, lawyers… or scholars according to the old way of Chinese values. Aunt was too cool to be hot blooded in love with any of those gentlemen even though they all behaved like faithful knights… she had a great time talking and playing with them and enjoyed the admiration from whoever she met, that was it. Oh, my goddess, if she did fall in love with any of dad’s friends, Nai Nai would get very upset.

When the first time mom taught me how to play the Chinese chess and how to checkmate, I sang with great confidence readying to checkmate mom with the first game in my life. Mom shook her head saying something like – you are just like your aunt. Even though she kept her observation to herself, her eyes and her body languages told me that she had some opinions about Aunt and me…

It took me decades to realize what mom truly meant. Mom was also a young lady then. So in her young mind there were only two kinds of women. One kind of women were always selflessly sacrificing themselves. They didn’t want anything except the happiness of their loved ones. Another kind of women always knew what they wanted and they would just go get it. So in mom’s mind Aunt and I were those go-getters.

Aunt Celebrating the New took me to her opera singing lessons when I was old enough to not swallow the chewing gum. There she was at the upstairs singing, I was downstairs waiting and counting all the colorful chewing gums she just bought for me, experiencing the windfall of abundance. She loved to tell me some ghost stories, then turned into a ghost at the most scary moment coming after me. I was laughing, running, screaming and crying the same time… one afternoon when it was her turn to babysit me, she gave me a square puzzle telling me if I could put them in certain alignment, I then would be the winner for the Nobel Prize. She then explained to me what was the Nobel Prize. ” Really?! ”  I took it so seriously and thought to myself that mom and dad did not need to argue for money anymore if I won the prize. So we had a quiet afternoon – she was reading her novel and I was diligently putting the puzzle together…

Another afternoon she told mom that she would like to borrow me and took me to the movie theater. It was not a good situation for a young lady going to theater by herself in those days. Mom said to her: “Make sure to not let her watch those foreigners kissing scenes. I don’t understand why these foreigners have to kiss all the time in front of other people.” Aunt bought me a small bag of peanuts and a bottle of coca cola for herself. We were so happy together. Mom was right, these foreigners loved to kiss all the time… I wondered how did they do that with much bigger noises than ours. Two heads like two pieces of puzzles and they had to fit together in order to kiss. Suddenly Aunt remembered her promise to mom so she put her right palm over my eyes while she herself was so absorbed into the movie. Her fingers were not even touching, so I watched the rest of the kissing scene in between her fingers… it happened many times during the movie, I saw everything but said nothing. She was a teenager then.

When I got home, I was so excited telling Little Gold and Little Firewood what I saw. As their big sister, I should always know something they did not know. So I showed them how those foreigners kissing each other. We exchanged some saliva, that was it. Later in life when I was kissed by my first boyfriend the first time, I realize it was not just exchanging saliva but something else was going on in my body. It was quite an ” Ah-Ha ” moments for me to translate that experience into my dance.

Later in life when I gave sacred dance workshops, I often shared such story with my class. You see, if dancing is merely posing beautifully then it is like kids exchanging saliva, even though they thought they were kissing. When the energy from Mother Earth and Father Sky moving through our entire being as Love, then we are talking / dancing. That movie theater experience with Aunt also planted the seeds for the manifesto of my dance theater:

Aunt Celebrating the New was another pretty outrageous lady in her time. I heard mom and dad talking about how she had engagement with her tutor, who was a handsome young gentleman. Aunt broke the engagement because it was not going to work. Such behavior was a big ” NO-NO ” in her time but she followed the truth in her heart and simply did it. Aunt never bothered herself of playing any role, nor to make herself a virtuous lady, nor to please anyone else. She was totally herself- period.

It was not the original plan of Nai Nai and Deai Deai to send aunt to the US to study further. Their plan was to send my four uncles abroad to study further. Aunt fight every tooth and nail for her right to study abroad. Mom was telling stories about how ” childish ” aunt behaved: something like sitting outside Nai Nai’s bedroom typewriting all night long so that nobody in the house could sleep… and how she talked her parents’ heads off about her right,,, and… how she threatened her parents that she would kill herself if she could not study abroad… As a little girl, I first thought mom was right, it was pretty ” selfish ” to get what you want in such manner… then I thought to myself that since Nai Nai had Doctor degree in Europe why not my aunt could have her Master Degree in American? And what was the difference between mom’s drama of marrying dad and Aunt’s drama of studying abroad… secretly I was on Aunt’s side.

Guess what? Soon after that we all dressed up not for her wedding but for her departure from the airport. Privately I put odds and ends together and wondered if that was the reason she broke the marital engagement… Aunt Celebrating the New had a straw hat on with green long ribbon, a pale green skirt covered her knees, and a pair of big black sun glasses covered her eyes… she turned her head three times  waved us goodbye like the statue of Liberty… One final turn she waved like a famous movie star bestow blessings to her fans… then disappeared into the plane. Victory to Her Will! I was weeping in silence knowing mom was right. I was more like aunt’s daughter. We knew what we want in life and we were going to pursuit our dreams with all we got – even if we had to fight to our last tooth and nail.

Years later she got her master degree in Accounting and married uncle Peter Cheung, who was tall and handsome, well educated and from an excellent family. Aunt Celebrating the New became Evangeline Cheung who lived like a queen with a great husband and two sons, Wilson and Eric. She had everything she wanted: master degree from abroad, career, marriage, family, adventures … I assumed she was very happy.

Aunt Evangeline had always been so generously donating money for my dance theater. Mom and dad used to tease her ” stinginess ” about money when all of us were that young and little… When I was older than all the adults who lived in the memories from my childhood, I simply realized that we all had perceived things so differently. Aunt was very wise about spending money. What was wrong if she could manage one dollar in two dollars worth? I had to develop the same skill myself while roaming around the foreign lands, learning to make a living and still keep my precious dreams alive.

One day Mark, my second ex husband, and I went to Philadelphia, PA to visit her and her family. It was a big deal because Mark was a German American, not a Chinese. Aunt was so openhearted welcomed Mark and introduced her family to us. It was the first time I met uncle Peter Cheung, and my cousins Wilson and Eric. Uncle Peter Cheung was a sensitive gentleman who did not talk much yet friendly. Shortly he excused himself back to work. Wilson and Eric were teenager boys, even though they were polite, bright and well educated, they did not enjoy much social interactions. They would rather play pin-pong downstairs… Aunt asked them to stay with us. She announced that she had something important to share with us all.

Aunt paused a moment then shifted into her natural dignity, she told Mark about the lineages of our blood, then in her diplomatic grace she demanded Mark to cherish me beyond everything else… then she looked at her sons – Wilson and Eric – reminded them to never forget what kind of genetic lineages were in their blood. Oh, my goddess!!! My cousins Wilson and Eric were also raised in a “cult” of bloodline worshiping?!!! Well, well, well ( -a deep hole inside the ground with buried water in it…)  my mom was not the only one who was obsessed with such importance… I was amused.

Wilson and Eric then excused themselves to downstairs. Aunt in her queenly manner asked Mark what were his views on certain global events and his views on certain aspects of life. I felt Mark got ” A ” in many areas… Then there was a long silence, her penetrating eyes staring at me for only God knows how long… as if she was evaluating one layer of reality after another… finally she broke the silence, the queen nodded, told me that I was very wise for choosing love in my life. She said nothing is more important than true love… money might be able to buy many things but not true love.

Hum! Mom used to teach me things like that when she was young, how come later in life mom often telling me how much money everyone else in the family was making, except me? Aunt used to be too cool to fall in love when she was young, life shifted her views too, when she became aged fine wine… As people we often play music chairs with others, until we have been through all chairs and put ourselves into other people’s boots, we then experience life much fuller than the earlier assumptions from our youthful eyes… Well, Aunt! I did not keep that marriage either. After you passed we grew apart… I might just have ruined that true love If I kept the marriage…

The last time I saw Aunt was after her stroke.

She was on a wheelchair, not be able to move much. There was a great looking, well mannered and well educated guy from the neighborhood helping aunt moving around. The love and caring that fellow had with aunt was so touching… Feeling a bit unease that I could not be as available as him, I thanked him many times until Aunt asked me to push her wheelchair to a private space… Cleared her throat, paused and shifted into her natural dignity, she looked right into my eyes with a strange mixture of detachment and compassionate smile, she said: ” He has been adoring me for so long. Now he is happy to finally get closer to me. You never know what God takes and what God gives… ”

I looked at my Aunt in awe:

She was in a wheelchair with twisted face muscles, also gained so much weight… not young, not attractive… not be able to move… like a phoenix lost most of her feathers, humbled yet graceful, confident, regal and breathtakingly beautiful.

There was a photo of Nai Nai, on a tea table next to her wheelchair, beaming smiles at us.

I could even see the lips in the photo moved…

Ah! Three generations of daring women…

I knew in my heart that Aunt Celebrating the New would meet Nai Nai soon…

That was the last time aunt and I were together in this lifetime.