The following is an excerpt from my memoir, “The Kid Who Got Away.”
While in therapy at the Transpersonal Psychology Institute in Menlo Park, California, my therapist felt that I would be a great candidate for past life regressions. Past life regression is a technique that uses hypnosis to recover any memories of past lives or incarnations that a patient might have retained.
In my most vivid regression, indicating that it might have been my most recent, I remembered being a young boy studying with a teacher in India. A group of us would gather each day to listen to his teachings of yoga and meditation. He called me to the side and asked me why I kept coming. He said I was way beyond his being able to teach me anything. He implied that I should be teaching him.
I left and trekked high into the Himalayas, seeking a cave of my own to be alone with my thoughts and increasingly lengthy meditations. The next thing I recalled was feeling warm and safe in a cave. I had a huge snake of some sort there with me. I believe he was providing most of the heat.
One day, I came out of my cave to find a group of people shivering in the cold outside my cave. Surprised, I asked what they were doing there. They told me they were waiting for my teachings. I made it clear I had nothing to teach them, that I was honored but that they should go home and find a suitable teacher. I left them there, returning to the solace of my warm cave and large friend.
The next time I came out of my cave the group had grown in size. There they stood, shivering in the cold, waiting for me to share some of my “wisdom” with them. I told them I knew nothing and asked them to leave. They wouldn’t. I told them some stories from the Ramayana and what they seemed to be teaching. Each time I exited my cave, the group had grown. I had no desire to be responsible for teaching them anything. I felt sorry for them and told them more stories each time I came out.
I awakened from a particularly long meditation realizing it was time to leave my body. “Death” was coming and coming soon. As I left my body, there was this exhilarating feeling of expansion. The cave lit up with a bright, pervasive light. I could feel myself being freed from the confines of this tiny, limited physical body. It was the most wonderful feeling of my life.
Walking alone through the back streets of my little Colonia Guadalupe, the air smells of fresh, ripe peaches. There’s a fiesta on the corner and I hear the laughter of screaming children breaking holiday pinatas. The night is cool. I pass several lovely senoritas with long hair and olive skin. As I reach my house, I stop dead in my tracks and realize, “I’ve just bought a ticket to Havana. I’m going home.”
This is what greeted me as I hit the Cancun Airport
The Yucatan was wonderful. The cool offshore breeze in Tulum, the turtles in Akumal, that was all wonderful; but the Yucatan will always mean one thing to me. I’m going home.
I headed for the border to reconnect with my Latin roots. I am all too aware of how significant a milestone my return to the home of my ancestors is on this journey. My angels have gotten me here at just the right time. Let’s hope all goes well and that on February 6, 2015 I step off a plane into the arms of those who came before me. I’m comin’ home, Mama. ¡Viva Cuba!