An International Uprise to Heal the Broken Souls of Fuga

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Armando's Return 

by Virgil Apostol

(Edited version originally posted on Deepak Chopra’s now defunct website How to Know God, March, 2000; and in Life Mentoring: Thoughts of the Greatest Thinkers, also now defunct. The following is the unedited version)

I was always curious about the Indian sweat lodge and asked a native-American family to take me to one. When I arrived at their home, Juanita told me that her son, Julian, would take me. Before we left, Julian instructed me in the proper etiquette as well as the taboos in regards to entering, speaking, and leaving. For a moment, I thought I was back in high school cramming for an exam. I was also feeling a little uptight wondering what would be the outcome if I broke one of these rules. Would they look at me with a scour on their faces? Or perhaps even kick me out? I left my trust in Julian. Before we left, Juanita had one special request. Her request was for me to ask for a sign from “Grandfather” as to the whereabouts of her husband, Armando, who had been missing for some time. I assured her that I would grant her request.

The trip to the reservation was longer than I expected. The afternoon was turning to dusk and we finally took an exit onto a winding road. By the time we got there, I noticed that there were neither people nor sweat lodge. We soon realized that everyone was off to a powwow that we heard at a distance. Before heading back to the car, Julian took me to a nearby hill, and placed a small amount of tobacco into my hand. He instructed me to face the Four Corners of the globe and throw tobacco to the winds while saying a prayer. There were two directions that seemed more significant. While throwing tobacco to the north, there was some rustling in the brush beneath my feet. While facing east, the wind carried the tobacco even further. After that was done, we hopped into the car and were off to the powwow.

Just when I was thinking the powwow was exciting, Julian turned to me and said, with a not-too-enthusiastic tone of voice, that they were just doing it for the money. I took a closer look around and saw that there were several booths of merchandise and food being sold. After watching a few dances, he asked to leave.

Back on the winding road, I was feeling disappointed that I was not given an opportunity to participate in a sweat lodge. Suddenly, a brown owl flew right across our front window. My eyes were thrown wide-open thinking we were going to hit it. “Oooh... Oooh… That’s a sign!” was Julian’s response. “I have to tell my mom!” I recalled the owl flying northeast, the two directions that seemed significant while throwing tobacco. I also felt the eagerness in Julian to reach home.

When we arrived, Juanita and a blind friend were waiting. Julian immediately mentioned the flying of the brown owl to his mother who later came to me and asked if I was willing to participate in a ceremony. I was given another opportunity to participate in one of their ethnic affairs that I certainly did not turn down. With all the lights switched off, the only light that managed to peek into the living room was that of a lightpost outside. Juanita rolled out a special carpet and laid out her paraphernalia that consisted of eagle feathers, stones, a ring woven from pine needles, and other items. All a while, Julian was burning sage all over the house, inside and out. Then it was our turn. We stood there while Julian smudged us from head to toe. The aroma of burning sage filled the air.

Juanita had me sit on the side facing east. She sat facing west. Her son sat facing north while the blind woman sat facing south. When we were situated, Juanita began to chant in her native tongue. All a while, I sat there cross-legged concentrating on my breath. After a while, she instructed us to call out three times, “Where are you Armando?” After a couple of minutes, the unexpected was to occur.

“What is this light that I see between Virgil and I?” asked the blind woman. When I opened my eyes to feed my curiosity, an eerie feeling, like no other that I have ever experienced, penetrated my flesh through a small spot in my back. It was most profound and felt like a “wind with substance.” (From a birds-eye view, if my nose were pointing north, this “wind” entered my back traveling northeast, the same direction significant with the flying owl and during the throwing of tobacco.) Whatever it was lodged itself deep in my belly and started to vibrate. I asked what this was. Juanita, who was just as perplexed as I was, advised me to just let it happen. If I wanted to do something or to speak, in whatever language, then come what may.

By this time, the vibration began to move up my spine causing it to whip from my tailbone to the top of my crown. The vibrations then moved down my arms and legs and into my hands and feet. My hands vibrated so strongly that it felt as if I was holding some kind of vibrating machinery. I had the ability to control and not allow it to happen but the temptation of having this unique experience was too hard to pass up. What I was feeling was undeniably real. I submitted to it and began to cry.

Tears were rolling nonstop down my face. I had speech, not in their Native American tongue but in Iluko, one of the languages of the Philippine Islands. I cried out for Apo Namarsua (Lord Creator) to help this family. I crawled over the paraphernalia and placed my hands over Juanita’s head. The intensity of the vibrations in my hands changed from a pure feeling to a dense one. Again I asked Apo Namarsua to be with her. Speaking in English, a message came forth that Armando was sorry that he left but had to do so. Moving back, I placed my right hand over Julian’s head and my left hand over the blind woman’s head. The density of vibration was different for each.

Over Julian’s head, my hand vibrated violently. The message was that his father had to leave but he loved him very much. The vibration over the blind woman was a mild and peaceful one. The message was that Armando was glad that she was there to give comfort to the family. I sat at my original position while tears were still constantly flowing. I continued to speak in Iluko.

I honestly do not know how much longer I was speaking, what I did, nor what I was saying because I must have gone into full trance. What I remember was Juanita asking me a specific question - “Is he coming back?” A strong jolt rocked my body. Once again she asked, “Is he coming back?” Again, a strong jolt rocked me. That same moment, the face of Armando appeared right in front of me. I couldn’t believe my eyes! Armando had the look of terror and anger! As swift as it came, Armando’s face disappeared and the vibrations left. My crying and shedding of tears suddenly stopped. I told them, “It is gone... It is gone...”

I sat there stunned although not afraid. As for them, they didn’t say a word. Finally, Julian said that we should all go outside. We were instructed to stand barefoot on Mother Earth while we were smudged. Then we went back in. They still were not saying much so I said good-bye and left.

A few days had passed and I decided to give them a call. When I spoke to Juanita, I was surprised to hear what she had to say. “That was not supposed to happen!” was her response. I was curious as to why, especially since she was the one who conducted the ceremony. Did she not like what she heard? Was something else supposed to happen? She gave no direct answer. She told me that she consulted with another Native American - a priest. She also advised me that I should receive a cleansing. I spoke to Julian who basically had the same response. I called the blind woman who was more sensible to talk to me. She explained that she never had such an encounter and went on to give me her side of the story. What interests me is that all three of them told me that there was one word, perhaps a name that I was calling out. Because they may have heard it while I was speaking in my own language, I was wondering how accurately they heard it.

About two weeks later, I met with a medicine man from another tribe. He diagnosed me as having susto or spiritual fright. I presented to him a bottle of liquor and rosemary twigs that he asked me to bring. He instructed me to lie on the ground face down. With a white sheet, he covered me from head to toe then began his cleansing ceremony.

I don’t know if he was speaking in Spanish or his own language. It sounded more like mumbling but he was supposedly reciting the Rosary. At intervals, he would be tugging at one side of the sheet or spraying liquor from his mouth all over my body. The day was hot and being covered felt like I was transforming from medium to well done. Nevertheless, I remained patient. When the ceremony was complete, I was glad to be out. Although I didn’t feel any different, the intent was to cleanse me of susto.

Since then, I have crossed paths with healers that I shared this encounter to. One reverend said that the name that I was calling out was my guide – my higher consciousness. Another told me that I left myself open as an instrument for another spirit to enter and that I should protect myself because it is not necessary for me to allow it. Others believed that I was undergoing a kundalini awakening.

Whatever their conclusion – and they all make sense – my life-long experiences will only strengthen my conviction that there is another side to the physical realm that we think we live in. There is definitely a spiritual side. Ask me... I’ve been there.