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TORTILLA EARS

Dreamed 1994/6/2 by Chris Wayan

I'm in Mexico City. This whole basin, the ancient lake bed, is a sort of lens focusing tectonic shocks and vibrations. This makes earthquakes here terrible and construction difficult. But there's a reason the city was built here, on such a deadly lens.

The roots of Indian corn plants pick up these vibrations and store the information inside the varied genes in multicolored ears. They hear every word spoken and every step taken on Earth. Why'd you think they're called ears? Are they ear-shaped? Of course not. They're named for their FUNCTION, not their looks.

And when an ear of corn is dried and ground, it retains the coded knowledge.

So Mexican shamans can learn nearly anything. They just roll up tortillas and stick them in their ears.

You think it's corny, but try it.

Listen. You can hear the sea. And a lot more than the sea...

WHEN I WOKE

The dream's not about tectonics. Any sort of shock (chemical, physical, emotional) can really shake me. The dream suggests this isn't pathology, but just part of being a shaman! Like Mexico City or San Francisco, I chose an extraordinary place to build myself, chose in this life to have a sensitive body and spirit. And that has a cost. An inherent cost. Hypersensitivity.



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