Climbing High
(My first spiritual memory)
By
Elizabeth Boubion
For Professor, Afia Walking Tree, M.Ed.
Spring Semester 2013
Course: Indigenous Wisdom
Holy Names University, Sophia Center
I was the seventh born child.
My mother's head dropped into her hands, “Please dear God, not another one!” It was 1971 and abortions
were introduced in clinics, yet her Catholicism kept her from aborting me. I was a pro–life child.
My father used to take me on walks to feed my brain….” Make
sure you marry a man who is kind and generous, who comes from a good family and
who is healthy—it’s very important that they are healthy!”
Mi papa, Octavio Durán Boubion otherwise known as “Dio” to
his queridos was plucked out of the barrio of Boyle Heights in L.A. at age 14
by Father Sedvedo. “Do you want to
become a priest? Father Sedvedo asked
when Dio visited his best friend Ed at the seminary in Dominguez Hills. “Oh yes!” He said when he saw how beautiful
the seminary grounds were, how good the food was, how safe he felt in the
company of priests.
He spent his formative years there but chose not to take his
vows upon graduation because he wanted “wine, women and song”. That’s what he tells everybody, feigning
machismo. Truthfully, he wanted the wine
from church mostly, and a woman (singular) to make a family with, and the
songs he listens to are strictly symphonic classical and choral music- Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Liszt, Handel…occasionally
he plays mariachi music but my grandpa always told him that mariachi music was
only played in bars.
My father is a holy man….always with his heart facing
heaven. His voice is humble, melodic and
kind, raised right by my Sonoran-born abuelitos, may they rest in peace. But typically, like most men, my dad
delights in getting away with things…. gloating in bending the rules when he
gets the chance.
For example, I was baptized by him. He dribbled holy water
on my head over the kitchen sink, in the name of the Father, the Son and the
Holy Spirit when I was a baby. My oldest
sister and oldest brother were pronounced to be my “God Parents” at age 8 and 9…and
I was pronounced to be a Catholic, not in the Catholic Church, but as a member
of my family.
7 years later, when it was time for my first communion, my
mother had to go talk to the Monsignor about signing the baptism papers. “Dio baptized the two youngest ones at home”,
she explained…. Would you mind signing off for him?” She was the PR person in situations like
these…. Being of the ruling class as a blue eyed, mild –mannered, Canadian-born, nurse that she was, who could say “no” to a woman who held herself like Queen Elizabeth,
Mother Theresa and Jeanne Crain all at the same time?
So, as it was, I was baptized by my wedded, un-chaste, un-ordained
father. I think this was a subversively
political and personal act on my father’s part.
By having his cake and eating it too as a priest and family
man. And by performing my baptism at home, he was placing La Familia over La Iglesia,
claiming his authority as “Father” over the religious institution of “Father”,
and claiming a direct relationship with God with no interceding necessary.
This renegade attitude
instilled in me in my infancy, back-fired on them to some degree, but I will
stay in the realm of the early years…
It was a quiet
afternoon in the suburbs of L.A. and I was about 4 years old. All of my siblings had gone to school and my
father was at work. My Mom and her best
friend Marta, were in the living room drinking tea while I made myself busy
finding innocent ways that I could bend the rules and get away with it.
I loved to climb. My climbing stunts began with shoulders and
hips, then tables and dressers, small trees, then taller ones… Eventually in my
college years, I climbed boulders, sea cliffs, rooftops, walls, scaffolding and
bridges, and when I arrived to the top, I would balance on 5 toes and shape
shift into a feathered serpent dancing as high as I could.
I was climbing in the
bathtub this time while mom and Marta were sipping their tea. It was easy.
No problem. My 2 feet were
straddling the sides of the tub, my arms stretched out open and free- when all of
a sudden, I heard a man’s gentle yet commanding voice speak to me from the
air…. "Get down Elizabeth". I looked
around the empty tile bathroom, caught and curious. Who was that? I wondered. So I climbed right down, went to the living
room and asked, “Is daddy here?” “no,” My mother replied waiting for my next
question. “Who was the man’s voice telling me to 'get down Elizabeth' ?" They both looked at each other with smiles on
their faces and then at me…. “That was God”…. “yes, that was God talking to you”
they said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Hmmm….ok. In that moment at age 4, I found out that
mysticism was normal and God was in the bathroom. I found out I was being watched when I climb
and I‘m not alone. I experienced guidance from beyond. I’m not sure I believed that the voice from the other side was God, specifically….but I accepted their words. They believed me and that was all I needed. I was recently told by a clairvoyant friend of
mine that I have 2 Grandfathers who walk with me and protect me. Ok.
Sure, that feels right, I could use some protection right now--my acceptance
of her message from beyond was the same as my 4-year old self being told that
God just talked to me. The minute she said it, I got a picture of the Grandfathers in my
mind, tall like trees- long straight black and grey hair, dressed in full
regalia. A few years ago, I was told by
a channel that I have 2 Goddesses flanking me on either shoulder… Sophia and
Nada. Ok, that makes a lot of sense too,
and how beautiful…. Not sure what to do
about it, but if feels as normal as breathing… somewhere between faith and
doubt, between my right and left shoulder I, Elizabeth Chuparosa am living in
the fragile place of center in between 2 energies of consciousness… Sophia did
tell me… “any energy that is not your own, return to source in love and light,
you can choose to just be with you”.
There will be moments when you can even tell the Goddess herself to
leave and return to source. Being with
true Self means that only One energy resides in you, which means that there
isn’t any separation between you and God/dess anyway.
I have an odd feeling remembering
that man’s voice telling me to get down in the bathtub…. You know, it’s hard to
be told what to do by a man after so much of it, century after century, even if
it is God or an angel. I had a
confrontation with this voice at age 40.
I told him, “Actually, I don’t want to get down! I still want to climb and explore my limits
and capabilities. I want to fly….I want
to trespass and get away with it… I want to meet spirituality in the balance point between two, meet
you between the in-breath and the out-breath… co-create with the elements of
nature, traverse the boundaries of human
construction and meet in the delicate
place of risk and beauty. Thank you for
your guidance and protection gentle voice, but I’m still going to climb. I will listen to your warning signals and
honor them…and I have a bond with gravity that keeps me climbing high.
