Feminists From Outer Space

Ayra didn’t have a strong sense of belonging to anyone or anywhere. She is the woman who walks forever. She once stayed in a small town for twenty years. She became familiar with the local hangouts and the local people who visited them. She was friendly to everyone and everyone was friendly to her. She knew that it didn’t matter how long she stayed in one place—it would not change her sense of feeling that she was not meant to be a part of the lore or story of belonging there. Her strongest sense was the feeling that she was meant for movement—for walking—and that’s what she did every day. As long as she was in movement, she was happy. Though she felt she did not belong to anywhere or anyone, she was not a sad person because of it. She was free and those who belonged and enjoyed a deep sense of belonging to and with, wouldn’t understand her freedom. Very few people longed for freedom. People longed to belong and to be a part of. Ayra was apart—a loner not looking to belong, and that is what her freedom was about. Those who were acquainted with her enjoyed her company but were not able to see her and feel her as she was able to feel them.

They called her the “walking woman” around town because she walked everywhere, every day. No one ever inquired into her background story—where was she originally from, was she once from a wealthy family perhaps from the central coast? No one gave her a second thought or speculated about her background. It didn’t matter to them to solve her mystery, to understand her freedom. She walked and was cordial and that was enough. She belonged to their town and that was enough to know. Belonging isn’t a very complicated matter for most people.

As Ayra walked, she loved to watch the natural world live and breathe and move around her. The energy of livingness was all around her and she loved how animated everything was. Everything was breathing in light, growing and decaying and this movement of growth and decay was a delight for her. She noticed the changes in the nature around her, sometimes to the minutest details. This would surprise and sometimes bore acquaintances as they never noticed or cared to notice the livingness that was around them. They had more important things to notice, or should we say think about. Most people loved to think, and felt the art of noticing was way overrated and too subtle for their tastes. They were interested in making their passing thoughts into presentable knowledge for others to hear. The art of noticing was too quiet, kinda boring and not interesting for people who cared about belonging and belonging in a way that made them the special ones.

Ayra was not special. She did not belong to belonging. This is how she is free. Those who thought special thoughts and were the special ones at belonging never noticed how free she was, well, because how could they notice such a truth? You have to be interested, you have to be open to such a possibility, to such an inquiry. Ayra is the walking woman, the free woman, the woman without a sense of belonging. She noticed everything, everything that everyone overlooked as just background scenery or noises to their primary noticing of their own thoughts. She didn’t notice her thoughts much. She felt and was as natural as everything around her, living, breathing, growing and decaying. She was not apart, she did not need a sense of belonging.

Her favorite walking route was through a forest that opened to a rough, rocky basin in which the Sessamep River flowed. It was there that she saw a flying vehicle appear. It appeared and glowed and then disappeared. She stood there, transfixed and wondering what she had just seen. She wanted to doubt her senses—that she actually saw a vehicle of some sort appear and disappear—but instead she laughed to herself and said, “Well, why not?” The ground where the spaceship appeared and disappeared and tried to land showed no signs of disturbance. She sat on a rock, closed her eyes and visualized what she had just seen. It was a small craft, circular in shape, well lit up from the inside and outside. She wondered if this was some kind of new design, some covert prototype that the government was experimenting with. There was an Air Force base about an hour and a half drive from where she lived. She wondered how it could disappear without flying away. This inquiry led her to wonder, “Maybe it is still there and I can’t see it. Maybe it has some kind of cloak of invisibility.” She decided to approach the place where she saw it appear. She picked up a small stone and threw it in the direction of the appearance. She heard a small thud, the rock had hit something—something she could not see. So, it’s still there and I cannot see it.

Three women, three women who were also not to be seen watched Ayra with concerned amusement. “Well, at least she had the good sense not to throw a larger rock,” one commented.

Another laughed and said, “I wonder what she will do next, now that she has verified that there is something there that she cannot see.”

The third woman commented, “We’ll see soon enough.”

Ayra thought of throwing a larger rock but cancelled on that idea, as she didn’t want to dent, wreck, or wreak any havoc on the invisible vehicle. It occurred to her that someone could have emerged from the vehicle and already left the scene or was watching her now. She looked over her shoulder and then circled to take in all the directions, the landmarks of the basin. She saw no one but she did feel a presence, that she was being watched. She called out, “Hello, is anyone there?”

The three women smiled at each other and the oldest (by two minutes) shook her head in a positive affirmation. The women turned off their invisibility cloaks.

Ayra saw three beings, three females wearing clothes she had never seen before. The clothes were almost transparent and took on the colors and shapes of what was around them. It was a perfect camouflage. If it wasn’t for their heads having no similar material on them she couldn’t be sure of what she was seeing at all. She stood transfixed and when the women waved to her she felt a twinge, a feeling she was not accustomed to. A wave of belonging overcame her and she began to walk towards the women, slowly at first and finally she burst into a sprint.

The women were shocked, not at the woman madly rushing towards them. They were shocked that the woman’s face was the same as theirs!

Ayra stood dumbfounded in front of three women who had features identical to hers. The three women also stood mute, not knowing what to reveal or not to reveal to the woman who stood before them. Finally, one of the women stepped forward and touched her, greeted her by placing her hand on Ayra’s chest. Ayra did not move away from the gesture.

“I’m Ayda,” she introduced herself, “and these are my sisters.” She pointed to the woman to the left, “Ayma and Aysa,” pointing to her right. Ayra tried to take it all in and spoke her name out loud. “I’m Ayra Primal.” All three women gasped at hearing her name.

Ayma stepped forward along with Aysa. “Who are you?” she asked. Aysa added “How can this be?”

“What do you mean?” asked Ayra. “I don’t understand what is happening here. Where are you from and why are you here and why do all of us look alike?”

Ayda thought it over. “I and my sisters look alike because we are clones. We used to think I was the original, but now I just don’t know. We might just be clones of you. Perhaps you are the original biological prototype. If that is the case, what are you doing here, on this planet?”

Ayra answered, “I’ve always lived here, though I wander. I am the walking woman.”

Aysa asked, “You’ve always lived here? Do you remember your childhood, your parents?”

“Yes, very well. Very normal.”

“Hmm, so strange,” muttered Aysa.

“Yes, it was very normal but I never felt a sense of belonging with them and even at an early age I started to walk and my walking increased until one day I walked away from all that was familiar to me.”

Ayma laughed, “I can understand your walking urge. We three have travelled very far. We must wander too, it’s in our nature.”

“But where are you all from?” asked Ayra.

“We are from a place that is both seen and not seen, very distant from this place you call Earth.” Ayda answered.

Ayra couldn’t fathom what they meant, and asked, “Why did you come here?”

“Now, I am not sure,” Ayda replied.

“No,” answered her sisters. “We will stay on mission.”

“Mission?” asked Ayra.

“We’ve come to spark and aid the liberation of all women,” they exclaimed.

Ayra was floored. “Liberate women from what?”

“From all their fears!” exclaimed Aysa.

“From all our fears?” asked Ayra. “I don’t understand.”

Ayma spoke up, “What we mean is, what we are here for is to bring the heart forward.”

“To end the subjugation of women,” added Aysa. “We are part of the Galactic Through the Doorway of the Heart Federation. We are intergalactic and interdimensional feminists!”

Ayra clapped her hands. “I didn’t know it, but this is what I have been waiting for my whole life. I’ve walked and walked, trying to make sense of why I never felt I belonged here. I couldn’t really accept that this patriarchy that we all suffer under is any way an answer to living here. I’ve lived in my own way, finding my way to live freely. I’ve found it in my walking and communing with all that is natural around me. I didn’t know what to do about the rest of it.”

“Well, sister, we have a plan and it’s already set in motion. Care to join us?”

Ayra only knew her walk, that is how she was free. What were her sisters proposing? “Does it involve walking?” she laughed.

The four women laughed, “That, and revealing many hidden secrets. Secrets that your Earth mother presence has protected and preserved. Come, we will all walk together.” All the sisters nodded and Ayra was both nervous and afraid. She was also excited and hopeful and yes, she felt a sense—a strong sense of belonging.

Bode, the Bodhisattva of this age and place, came out of his deep meditation. He wasn’t sure how long he had been in his deep samadhi. He noticed his nails were long, so much time has passed, he reflected. He had no idea it had been seven hundred years. With the return to physical awareness, physical needs appeared. He was very thirsty. He couldn’t stand very well; his muscles were weak. He had not lost any weight; his body had been sustained by the shakti of his feminine consort. She was always with him. She did not appear in the physical, though—her time was not ripe. She was the one who sustained him here. He had always been here as his work and impulse was to stay perpetually to serve the awakening of all beings. His consort, who was his companion and shakti, was also a Bodhisattva but she served in the spiritual dimensions. She could appear at will, but that was infrequent and only in dire emergencies. In his periods of deep samadhi they merged. It was she who refreshed him and pulled him out of his samadhi. They communed in the heart and sometimes talked by using language. This is one of those times.

“My love, I have emerged here.”

“Yes, my heart,” she replied softly. “I have awakened you here. Something has begun. The sisters have arrived.”

“The sisters?”

“The feminists,” she revealed.

Bode raised his eyebrows. “Is it that time? Already?”

She smiled, “Seems so.”

Bode laughed, “This should be good. Are you sure this place, the people here are ready for the feminists? What have I missed since my last mission and incarnation?”

She Is filled him in on all the changes in the human race.

“That many people are alive now? Why are so many souls taking incarnation now?”

“It’s the time,” answered she.

“The final time?” he asked.

“No, it’s the beginning time,” she answered.

“Really? I’ve always enjoyed a good beginning. They are filled with hope, excitement and vitality.”

“Yes, me too,” she answered.

Bode reflected, “Will you be making your appearance, now that the feminists are here?”

She-Bode laughed, “You know my ways are mysterious. I will find my way.”

“A secondary aspect?” inquired Bode.

“Perhaps,” she answered, “I’m hoping for a few good surprises along the way.”

“Yes,” Bode laughed and agreed, “You are always the most creative one. For now I must find some water. I have a seven-hundred-year thirst.” He walked out of the cave with a limp. What he saw before him in a valley in the near distance surprised him. He walked towards it.

As he entered the city, he surmised that the machine age and the technological age were well underway. But not quite the robot or clone age. The people he saw looked different from each other and there were no obvious walking-around robots. He needed to get some water and clean up his appearance. He was looking forward to his first sip of his favorite wet liquid, water, then a shot of high spirits (preferably whiskey) to get his mojo up and running. He panhandled for a few bucks and an elderly lady took pity on him and handed him some good currency. He knew he had to clip his nails. Interestingly, his hair hadn’t grown an inch. He was as bald as he was 700 years ago. His beard was full, white whiskers, and they always stayed neatly on his face in a way that accentuated his attractive features. His smile (that smile!) could put even the most cautious at ease. He noticed that the woman who had given him the currency followed him into the store. She asked him, “Can I help you?”

Bode realized she worked there and said, “Where is the water?”

She pointed to large, clear refrigerator doors filled with beverages. He was surprised that water was sold—and in many containers of different sizes. He chose a gallon, opened it and started to drink it very enthusiastically. When he had his fill, he walked to the check out and noticed the spirits close by. He pointed to a bottle and the clerk (the same woman) handed it to him and rang him up. It came to all the currency the very same woman had handed him. She laughed, “You have just enough.”

“Yes,” he answered back, “thanks to your kindness I am hydrated and will soon be warmed by the spirits.”

The clerk smiled and asked him, “Receipt or bag?”

“No, not necessary.” Bode, feeling hydrated, enjoyed the scene. He never got tired of living (if he actually did, he retired into his essence). He never got tired of the dreams that played out in this realm. Very interesting all of it, he thought. She Is Bode’s handiwork. He walked to a local park, sat on a bench and sipped on his bottle of whiskey. He resisted the urge to delve into his essence and waited for the sign of what would appear next—that would indicate how his work would proceed. His body warmed from the spirits, he felt good and although he looked like a man in his mid-sixties, his constitution was like a man in his mid-thirties. He appeared to be an aging man, but his internal organs and chemistry weren’t aging all that much. The outward appearance of an aged man suited his nature and the nature of his work. He was, after all, the Bodhisattva of all the ages and the appearance of an aged man resonated with the fatherly idea of a patriarch taking care of his family. Humans wanted to be taken care of, and that conflicted with their urge to dominate each other. A whole lot of insecurity, he thought. He knew what lay at the heart of all the problems of humanity.

His job was to set it right, to set a course where each one could find itself, come home and reside with She Is Bode. One soul, one person at a time, he thought. Eight billion people, I’ll never be out of a job! He also knew (as She Is Bode explained) a new movement was afoot—the feminists were here. I must look for the signs of their arrival. He pulled out his iPad from his bag (didn’t even know I had one of these—thanks She Is for providing). He figured out how to get it on and pursued the webcam sites.

Where should I start? How to find the feminists? He wondered. They must have left some clues. He sat on the bench all day, studying available web cams from different locations throughout the world. He could have used his power of all knowing, but that would take the fun out of everything. They had just arrived, so they couldn’t have gotten very far yet. He had a few hunches, but first he had to activate his pod of Bode helpers. Every time he reappeared (into the next age) a pod of helpers also appeared (got born here) to help him in his work of evolving human beings. They usually appeared near his reemergence site so he waited on the bench all day to see who would eventually show up. He always enjoyed this part of his work, reuniting with his team. They usually had different talents and skill from each other and it took a long time before those skills could be of use to him. He waited the entire day and was about to resign himself to a night on the bench when the same woman from the market walked by. She walked right by him, stopped, stared into some kind of handheld device, talked into it and turned around and marched towards him. She looked like a woman with a mission, he thought.

“Hello again. I was wondering, do you have some place to stay? I’ve never seen you before in this town. Oh, my name is Lakshmi.”

Bode raised both eyebrows at the mention of her name, “Named after the Goddess of beauty and wealth.”

“Yes,” she laughed. “You have heard of her.”

“Heard of her,” he laughed inside. “Yes,” he spoke out loud. “Do you happen to be the same lady, the same Goddess?” he teased.

“No, no, I’m not the Goddess, but I do like beauty in all its forms.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. All women are forms of the Goddess.”

She laughed at this and Bode stood up. “My goddess Lakshmi, I am Bode and I am at your service.”

Lakshmi smiled warmly. Something so attracting about this homeless fellow, she thought.

“Can I ask you what you are doing in this town?”

“Certainly. I am waiting for some friends to show up. They should be arriving any time. It’s a surprise, though, they know I’m coming, but not exactly when.”

“That’s curious. This is a small town. Perhaps I know some of them. I know a lot of people in this town. Everyone comes through the store. I know all the locals.”

Bode tossed out the name, “The Rainbow Sage?”

“Is that a nickname?” There is a young man who wears his hair in dreads and dies it the colors of the rainbow. Everyone in the store has nicknamed him, “Rainbow top.”

Bode laughed, “Sounds like him.”

“I know he lives on Cherry Street. He’s very quiet, doesn’t way much. I’ve tried my best to draw him out. He lives a few doors down from me. You can wait for him at my place. You hungry?” Lakshmi asked.

Bode gathered up his iPad and put it in his satchel. He thought of meeting Rainbow Sage again. He always dug that guy. He was always a very proactive member of his pod. Once the Rainbow Sage was found, the others come easily. Rainbow had the best clues, as his hands literally signed—spoke—all the info we might need to give a kick start to the mission. Those precious hands of his might sign-speak of where the feminists are.

Lakshmi pointed out Rainbow’s house as they drove past it. “Here we are, this is where I live.” She showed Bode a comfortable chair and he could hear her rustling up some food in the kitchen. He got up and studied her photos on the wall—family, he assumed. He noticed that she had three grown daughters. The middle daughter resembled her the most. He saw a picture he assumed was Lakshmi as a younger woman. She was a looker, he thought.

During dinner, he asked her about the photos of her daughters. He could see that Lakshmi was quite proud of her daughters. She was a very loving mother.

“Any grandkids?” he asked.

“Yes, I have three daughters and three granddaughters.”

“Such a strong matriarchal line in your family,” Bode replied.

Lakshmi laughed.

“What are they all doing now?” he asked.

“My oldest is an astrologer, my middle is a sculptress, and my youngest is a cartographer.

“Very interesting. Is a cartographer a map maker?”

“Yes, she works for the National Park system. She also enjoys making maps of her dreams. She calls them her astral travels, her journeys.”

Now, that could be very helpful, thought Bode. “Does she live close by?” he asked.

“Not far, she is the only daughter who stayed nearby. She might know your friend, the Rainbow Sage.” “Small world, isn’t it? Thanks for the delicious meal and all your help. You have been most kind. Can I do the dishes for you?”

“Oh, okay. I’ve got a meeting to go to in a few minutes. You can watch for your friends’ return from here if you like.”

“Thanks so much, we will meet again, I hope.” Bode bowed and she made her way through the door.

Ayra accommodated the three sisters, the feminists (they called themselves) from outer space (she thought of them) at her place. They had ravenous appetites and they all agreed to second helpings. She offered them some ice cream for dessert and Ayma (as if she could tell them apart at this time) exclaimed, “Mm delicious, worth coming all the way just for this!” Ayra laughed and agreed.

Ayda, always the most serious sister, and the one whose mind never got distracted, asked Ayra if they could see pictures of her parents. She wanted to see the DNA lineage that they all resembled. Ayra agreed and went and got a box of photos from her closet that she hadn’t digitized yet. She looked through and was surprised that she hadn’t many (if any) pictures of her parents. She emptied the box onto the kitchen table and spread the pictures out. Finally, she found the picture she knew (she had always remembered this one) she had. “Here, this is a picture of my parents.”

Ayda took the picture and studied it. There didn’t seem to be much of a resemblance. She showed the picture to her sisters. They also couldn’t see the resemblance. Ayma spoke up, “You don’t look much like either parent.”

Ayra replied, “Yes, everyone said I look more like Uncle Tob. I never knew if he was my mother’s or father’s brother.” “Do you have a picture of him?” asked Ayda.

“Maybe,” Ayra fished through the pile of photos. “Here is one. This is Uncle Tob. It’s not a very good picture, it’s hard to make out his face with that big floppy hat on. I remember him as being very funny and kind.”

Ayda took the picture from Ayra’s hand and held it up for all the sisters to see. All the sisters recognized the man in the picture. They sent a wave of telepathic messages to each other.

“Gees, it’s him!” Ayda’s mind spoke.

“Yes!” confirmed Ayma and Aysa.

“Wherever we go he always makes his ‘appearance’.”

Ayda asked out loud, “Can you tell us anything about Uncle Tob? Is he still alive?”

Ayra thought about it, “I’m not sure. When I left home I never saw him again and my parents never brought him up. I asked my mother about Uncle Tob and she told me that he was never really my uncle, he was a friend of theirs. I go the distinct feeling that she didn’t want me to ask her anything more about him, so I didn’t. Why do you ask?”

The three sisters’ mind-spoke again, “What should we tell her? We don’t know that much about him except that wherever we go to do out work of restoring the feminine to its rightful position, he makes an appearance. Who is that guy, anyways?”

Ayma spoke up (and out loud), “We are not sure, we’ve run into him in the past.”

“Really?” asked Ayra. “I’m confused, why would you have seen Uncle Tob before?”

All three sisters shrugged their shoulders.

Bode finished the dishes and wandered to the front porch and sat a spell. He liked the property. The front porch had a view of the neighborhood, a pleasant place with well landscaped yards. He eventually decided to stretch his legs and wander towards the house that Lakshmi had said was where Rainbow Sage lived. It was at that opportune time that a thin man with his characteristic rainbow dreads was riding his bicycle up the driveway.

Bode called out to him, “Beautiful evening, isn’t it?”

The young man turned around to acknowledge the man who had called out to him. His palms were tingling and he looked down at them and the words, “Talk to him,” were followed by the word, “Destiny.”

He could barely manage the words, “Yes, it is a beautiful evening.” He stared at the man, he was terribly familiar and his heart was beating wildly. He became very self-conscious and stammered, “Do you live around here? Have we met before?”

Bode laughed, “I’ve always lived here. Don’t you recognize me?”

Rainbow Sage’s mind said no, I’ve never seen you before, but his heart was saying, Yes! Yes! And then he added, “Can I help you? Do you need any help?” (He couldn’t believe he just asked that!)

“Yes, of course. I’ll need plenty of your help. My name is Bode,” and Bode extended his hand to Rainbow Sage.

Rainbow shook his hand and said, “I’m called Rainbow.”

Bode smiled but did not release Rainbow’s hand. He reached for the other hand and clasped that as well. A surge of memories flooded Rainbow’s mind. He remembered everything but didn’t understand any of it. How can I be connected to this man? he wondered. He looked down at his palms and the words appeared, “It is true.” Those words disappeared and the words, “He is true,” appeared.

Bode patted Rainbow Sage’s back. “So good to see you again, buddy.”

Rainbow, not understanding anything, was really surprised when he spoke these words, “And so good to see you again, master.”

“Where are the others?” asked Bode.

What others, thought the Rainbow Sage. His palms tingled and he looked at them. And read the words out loud, “They are coming soon.”

“Good, the feminists are already here.”

While Ayra slept, the three sisters consulted. They were here to uncover three ancient texts that revealed the lives and teachings of three enlightened women who had lived on earth during three distinctive epochs. They had studied the herstory of the feminine, its struggle for equality, its long periods of oppression by the masculine and its present slow climb to equal rights and opportunities. Throughout this struggle, from time to time, extraordinary women incarnated (arrived from the higher realms) to further the evolution of women, to herald a call to greater need and expression of love and happiness and freedom. By finding and revealing these texts written by free-standing women, they would provide the catalyst and transmission for the healing of all women (and men!). It would initiate a global revolution in women to fight for, to live for their right to awaken the heart, to open the pathway of love. It would show women that they had the right to awaken. The sisters agreed that the first text to find was in the southwest of the United States. They believed that this text (still buried) was written by a direct disciple of the original White Buffalo Woman. There was a prophecy among the native people that White Buffalo Woman would return to right all the wrongs, heal the one true tribe, create the one true nation, and restore all beings to their natural place with their heart, our mother, the Earth.

The sisters talked about Ayra and the mystery of their biological lineage with her. All the sisters felt that the mystery of their link was not just biological (why they were all obviously sisters!). They also felt that Ayra had a part to play in their work. Perhaps, in their deep unknowing, she knew and was connected to the three awakened women who had lived and served on this Earth (her Earth!). They were sure that she would be of enormous help in finding and uncovering the ancient texts.

Ayra had also spent the night awake, unable to sleep in her room. She felt restless, she wanted to be in the movement but didn’t want to disturb the feminist sisters (are they really related to her somehow? she wondered). She knew that she would go wherever they went. She had to go, she had to be with them, she knew that much. She took out the picture of Uncle Tob (not really her uncle!) from her drawer and studied it. She wondered why the sisters had recognized him. How did they know him? What did they know of him? She looked at the picture and recalled how Uncle Tob used to kid her about being an oddball in her family. He used to toss her curls and tell her, “No point in trying to fit in for you my gal, you’ll always stand out and one day you’ll just walk out of this door for good!” She never understood why he teased her in that way, but it did happen in just the way he teased her. She never felt she belonged and one day she just got up and left. That’s when her life of walking began. She walked and walked and noticed everything, and everything (but no one!) noticed her.

The natural world, slowly over a long time, revealed to her its many wonders. Her walking in this revelation of nature often became ecstatic. As she walked and marveled in her noticing of the light and livingness of everything, she wondered why she did not belong to others, only to the walk. That was until the feminists arrived. She turned over the picture of Uncle Tob. There was something someone had written on it. It was very faded and difficult to read. Ayra spent ten minutes trying to make it out but finally she did. It read: To Ayra, your sisters will come, be patient till then! Uncle Tob, who are you? she wondered. How did he know about my sisters? She knew he knew, but what is it that we must learn? Two things she knew she had discovered: the walk and now her sisters. She didn’t yet know that all women have (are with) all sisters everywhere. The feminists knew that from the very depths of their heart and soul.

“Want to go for a ride in our spaceship?” (as earth people called such a vehicle) the three sisters asked Ayra.

Ayra asked, “Where to? Where are we going?”

Ayda explained their task of finding the three ancient texts.

Ayra was thrilled, “How do we find them? Where are they?”

“The first clue, the first text is in the Rocky Mountains. It is rumored by the natives to be hidden in the mountain range there.”