THE SONG
A Mysterious Tale of Intrigue and the
Mayan Calendar
Joe Arnold
John Salatti - Editor
Copyright © 2015 by Joseph P. Arnold
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.
First Printing: August 2015
ISBN 978-1-329-43233-8
Cuseami Productions
3590 SW Par Pl.
Corvallis, OR 97333
www.thesong.us
U.S. trade bookstores and wholesalers: Please contact Cuseami Tel: (828) 263-4158 or email [email protected]
Dedication
To Catherine, Malika, Lhasa, and the spirit realm that, through its very existence, helped shape this story.
Contents
Acknowledgements vii
Preface ix
Introduction 1
Chapter - Negative One 3
Glossary 338
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank my dear friend and editor, John Salatti, who helped transform this story into a book. And, to Pam Brewer, whose unbiased and non-judgmental support was instrumental in the completion of The Song. Thank you for creating a safe and sacred studio space for me to create.
I also wish to thank all the wonderful men in my life who supported me in my own spiritual journey. You helped me to accept and appreciate the divine masculine and its sacred role in all beings.
And to the women in my life who speak a very different language than I and yet have been supportive and have shown me that I don’t need to understand the divine feminine, I only need to honor her.
I am also grateful to a man whom I have never met but understand his teachings better now. Thomas Berry and his supporters in Greensboro, NC taught me how to live in the Earth and not on her. He taught me that nature is not something to witness from afar, it is something to experience every day as a participant in all her grandeur.
Lastly, I wish to acknowledge and bow deeply to Source and the simplicity of his/her wisdom and the knowledge that we are all one. May all Humans come together in suspended judgement to remember, through ritual and love, that we can truly make a difference in our world when we work hand in hand.
Preface
I am an adventurer and traveler of sorts and have been drawn to the indigenous peoples of sacred lands. I have traveled into Asia, South and Central America and throughout North America, particularly the deserts of the Southwest, learning about the people in those lands.
I was first introduced to my spiritual roots, beyond religious halls, by a young man in my high school years who shared profound words with me. He said “You must follow your own path wherever it leads you and open to whatever is …”
I have done just that and although my spiritual journey in this life began over forty years ago with that comment, I find myself solidly following this journey today.
My spiritual inspirations have manifested in my readings by Richard Bach: Jonathan Livingston Seagull and Illusions, Daniel Quinn: Ishmael and The Story of B, Ray Brooks: Blowing Zen, Kay Whitaker: The Reluctant Shaman, Nik Bantok; Griffin & Sabine, Dana Lamb; The Enchanted Vagabonds and Quest for the Lost City, Mark Plotkin Tales of a Shaman’s Apprentice and finally, Carlos Castaneda The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge. The tales of his experiences with a Yaqui Native named Don Juan have helped guide me in my lifelong spiritual quest for my own truth. Other inspirations appear in The Song as references to others who have written personal accounts of their own travels throughout the world that have left a permanent impact on how I approached this story. To those authors who have influenced my own writing, I am humbled and extremely grateful.
I have explored and appreciate mysticism and the spirituality of all ancient cultures including the Maya, Inca, and Tarahumara or Raramuri. The latter culture is of particular personal interest to me as I have roots, through my mother, so deeply embedded in these First Peoples of Central America that predate the Spanish invasion of Mexico. Currently, the Tarahumara live in The Copper Canyon in Mexico. My visits to these people have shown me how a simple life, connected to nature, can produce a holistic life style. These beautiful lithe people have reconnected me with how to enjoy the experience of life without the need for material goods.
I also want to acknowledge the many men who have sat in scared space with me and have witnessed my own Journey deep within myself. I have participated in scared rituals where men are honored for who we are while being guided by powerful women guides. Through these rituals, I have discovered how to be in balance with the masculine and feminine and what is possible when this balance is achieved. With that total awareness, I wish to honor David Deida who, through his teachings and written word, has taught me how to better understand the power of the united masculine and feminine regardless of sexual orientation.
I grew up in California, lived in Washington State, and now live in Oregon. I travel the country offering my skills to many people from all walks of life.
And now, with the completion of The Song, I am curious as to where the next leg of my journey will take me …
Introduction
The idea for this book came to me when I heard about an actual murder that happened in San Francisco, CA decades ago. This story grows out of that murder. That said, all of events and characters are fictitious and not related to anyone in actual life.
The Song takes the reader back through the creation and evolution of the Human Race giving pause to ponder the possibility of how Humans may have developed differently than historians have told us.
It begins with a murder in the heart of San Francisco and quickly immerses the reader into the Mayan spirit world with our two main heroes, Detective Riley Holden and research editor Sarina Conti. Riley and Sarina are cast together along with a mystic from the Mayan spirit world, Dana (XBALANQUE), as their spirit guide. The three follow a path of mystery and danger on a quest to confront the Mayan god, CUM-HAU, god of death and lord of the underworld who is attempting to manipulate the Human race into self-destruction. CUM-HAU has stifled the connection between light and dark and has cast the planet into a state of imbalance. Riley and Sarina must undo what CUM-HAU has done and restore the delicate balance of light and dark energies if the Human race is to work in harmony and survive as a species.
The Song is not a story of good versus evil. There is nothing to be divided; nothing to be conquered. It is a tale about what happens to a world when the light and dark energies become compromised and how the people of any world can truly work together to solve the issues that plague their global environment once the light and dark energies are restored and become balanced once again.
Chapter - Negative One
The note read … “Time is short, and you are in mortal danger. Take the bracelet with you and leave at once!” Ann felt a surge of fear. Then she steeled her nerves, steadied her fast breathing, and grabbed a box that contained the bracelet from her hall closet and the note. She slammed the door of her Mountain View, California house for the last time and ran to her car.
She loved fast cars and was thankful that she had chosen a 2012 Audi A-4 2.0T. It was fast and very maneuverable, perfect for this escape tonight and it was midnight blue, which for some reason seemed right. The wind had picked up and the rustling of the trees made her tense and more frightened. She fumbled for her keys and dropped them on
the concrete driveway. It was Thursday night, actually, Friday morning just after midnight December 21st, 2012, and chilly but not as cold as it usually was this time of the year. The sky was lit up by the moon, which would be full in seven days. Still, Ann was shivering with fright as she picked up her keys, unlocked the door, and jumped in her car.
She shot out of the driveway and raced towards Hwy. 101. She lived on E. Dana Street, which was only a short distance from the highway. She was not sure where she ought to go. She didn’t have any friends in San Francisco, but she thought that her sister, Sarina, lived in the city but she had no idea where.
Ann felt a little more at ease as she sped north on the 101. This gave her some time to settle her mind and sort through what had just happened. She glanced over at the box and opened it with her free hand. She dumped the bracelet onto the seat and a large manila envelope flipped out as well.
It contained a document she had saved from the time her father left. It was titled Direct Translations of the Mayan Calendar and the End of Times. Ann had kept this document from her father more than thirty years ago after discovering it in some dusty government archive she visited to do research for him about the calendar. She had felt that keeping this information from him might help him let go of his obsession about the Mayan calendar and make their family a priority again. Ann’s mom and dad had been arguing all the time and her dad had become obsessed about the meaning of the calendar.
She had read through the document one day those thirty-some odd years ago and learned that the Mayan people believed that this calendar signaled the end of a specific period of time and the beginning of a new age of sorts. Many people mistranslated this information to mean the end of the world as we knew it. But rather than getting caught up in end-of-the-world hysteria, Ann’s dad (so she believed) was very sure that the Mayan calendar was incredibly precise, that in that precision it foretold many events in human history, and that, even more important than its predictions, the calendar held deeper meanings about existence locked inside its mystery with its circular cycles and non-linear depictions.
Further translations in the document revealed a disruption of some kind in human consciousness, a reference to a Mayan god named Cum-Hau along with severe weather pattern changes for two years after the date of December 21, 2012. Ann thought that given the accuracy of these predictions over thirty years ago, the remaining information it contained must have more importance. The translations were imperfect and some of the Mayan texts had not be translated at all, but Ann thought that if her father had read this particular document, he might have done something drastic given its contents. As it was, he left his family forever, which for Ann seemed drastic enough. Ann had not heard from him again after that night decades ago when he decided to leave. At first she wanted to throw it away, along with the bracelet, because she was so angry with her father for abandoning her family, but she also loved him so much that she had just kept them for all these years. Because the document was so connected to the life she had shared with her father, Ann planned to have the rest of the document translated someday but hadn’t gotten around to it.
Ann was now lost in a thought that maybe the stranger who delivered that note a few hours ago was indeed her father. She still was not able to make sense of the note. A warning of some kind, obviously, she thought, but about what?
Why was she in danger? What did she possibly do? What did she really know? The document was just pieces of paper and had not helped her discover anything after all these years. Maybe she should drive back and see if the stranger was her father and if he could tell her anything else.
Was it the bracelet? Ann turned it over and over it in her hand, much like a person praying with a rosary or mala beads, as she drove on towards the lights of the city. She had looked for leads about her father’s disappearance over the years but nothing ever panned out. Even her work at The Institute for the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence or S.E.T.I. had offered no leads. She had finally given up any hope of finding even a trace of her father and now this. Here she was racing towards the city on a hunch that her sister lived there. How was she going to find Sarina in a city with a population of almost 826,000?
Ann got off the highway at Market Street just past 1:00 a.m. and headed toward Golden Gate Park. She was driving on Lincoln Way and decided she needed to stop and orient herself. She turned left onto 9th Street that was dotted with cafes. It was late and there were fewer cafes open than she might have guessed. She easily found a parking space on Irving and walked about a half a block to a small coffee shop. It was open and just what she needed. There were no other customers and she slid into a quiet booth near the back. A tall lithe man walked up and took her order. He seemed fascinated with Ann, which prompted her to ask, “How late are you open?”
He smiled and pointed to the clock on the wall. “3:00 a.m.,” he said. He brought Ann some food and she searched 411.com on her smart phone to see if her sister, Sarina, was anywhere in San Francisco. Sarina had no residential listing. All she found was a business listing showing that Sarina worked as a research editor for a local publishing company called Earthbased Publishing. She called the number, but there was an after-hours recorded message and she hung up.
Ann had begun to feel somewhat at ease and finished eating when she heard a loud rumble coming from somewhere above where she sat. She looked up and it felt as if the room was moving in circles. She grabbed onto the side of the table to steady herself as she stood and then as abruptly as it started . . . it stopped. The man behind the counter went on wiping down the granite counter top without any indication that he had felt something.
He stared at her for a moment and then went on with his polishing. Ann began to feel afraid again and collected her things and went outside and headed back to her car. Over an hour and a half had passed in the café and it was now just 3:00 a.m.
Her uneasy feeling was consuming her with fear as she glanced over her shoulder and down the dark alley. She looked at the bracelet in one hand and the note now in her other hand. She had stuffed her phone into her pocket.
Ann walked out to her car. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and re-dialed Sarina’s work number. This time she listened to the complete message and was about to leave a voice mail for Sarina when she froze in her tracks. She saw someone in the driver’s side of her car as she approached. The recording on her phone beeped and she hung up. The person in the car looked back at her.
* * * * * * * * *
The hooded figure in the car had been looking at the document in the dim light. The document was a complete surprise. He had gone to the car looking for the bracelet, which he couldn’t find. But in his search, he had come across the document lying on the seat.
The document discussed at length the Mayan calendar, which he had researched intensely for years. Even so, much of what was in the document was new to him, and he wondered why Ann had it, where she got it from, and how long ago she had obtained it. He also wondered how much of it she understood. Although because of his training, Ann was quite adept at all things Mayan, he knew that she could not possibly have understood all that these passages contained. Much of it consisted of pictographs, symbols, and ancient Mayan tongues that he knew she would not have been able to translate.
He could decipher much of what had not been translated because he had learned enough from his master over the decades. He was able to recognize the symbols on a picture in the document and was able to translate many of them. They were ancient glyphs of a long ago language that was thousands of years old. One symbol was the name of his master, Cum-Hau. The others were names of the ancient Mayan gods and goddesses and he was able to translate them into English. There were also English names associated with the various gods and goddesses. They were Akna (ahk na) Ann Conti, Ixchel (ehs CHEL) Sarina Conti, Chac (CHaK) Riley Holden, Xbalanque (Shi BA lan KAY) Dana, Hunahpu (wan a pwa) Yumma, and his own, Camazotz (ka Mah SoTS) Jack Conti!
The text went on to describe a grand p
lan for the destruction of the human race instigated by Cum-Hau and this troubled Jack. Cum-Hau had not revealed any plan to Jack and he became angry. His anger seemed to be helping him recall his human life, which he had let go of so long ago.
When Jack entered the realm of Cum-Hau, he began to lose his human memories, and over thirty years they had become buried deep in his mind. His rising emotions seemed to help recover his memories, and he began to experience feelings he had not had in a long time. Emotions were not necessary in his association with Cum-Hau, which is why he was such a good right hand being for this under lord.
He was deciphering a section of the document as best he could that told the story of how two of these names were a royal couple and that one must be sacrificed to change the outcome of Cum-Hau’s plan. The one that needed to be sacrificed was Akna, his human daughter, Ann. Cum-Hau had been absolutely insistent that this murder be carried out in the tradition of the ancient lords of Nibiru. This meant a sacrificial death ritual with the completely naked body laid to rest on the steps of the most powerful religious institution in the world. This meant that Jack needed to locate a Catholic church. Easy enough to do in the Bay Area.
Cum-Hau had indeed commanded Jack to accomplish this task but he did not say why. Now this document seemed to be filling in the why. But Jack was not completely sure of the translation. His reawakening emotions seemed to blur his ability to decipher the glyphs accurately. He was reading something about a cremation and the importance of the ashes when someone approached the car.
Jack jumped out of the car and in his haste to stuff the document back into the envelope, the title page snagged on the clasp and tore off. It slowly tumbled end over end onto the floor on the passenger side of the car without notice. He shoved the envelope inside his cloak and faced Ann.
The Song_A mysterious tale of the Mayan spirit world and the Mayan calendar Page 1