Conrad SatalaJuly 27, 2025

27 July 2025 - Sunday Moonflower Remembering A Ceremonial Ritual of the One Heart With Conrad, and the Spirit of Toloache - Part 10b

Conrad SatalaJuly 27, 2025

27 July 2025 - Sunday

Moonflower Remembering

A Ceremonial Ritual of the One Heart

With Conrad, and the Spirit of Toloache - Part 10b

“I Carry the Mountain in My Breath”

A Ceremonial Introduction to Living Within Two Lands

from the Earth Remembers Series

Conrad Walks Through the Fire of Suffering

A Weaving of Light Through the One Heart

Even when the outer world burns with suffering—

political cruelty, helplessness, betrayal, and pain—

Conrad is still supported.

Not by answers.

But by the quiet, living Presence of Light

within the subtle being of the Heart.

This Presence is the Light of Kimoon K’uxlaal—

the sacred weaving of many hearts into One Heart.

Where all life, no matter how broken or beautiful,

is meant to be lived within this form

of an emerging Light of Unknown Possibilities.

This Light does not argue with Voice 1.

It sits quietly inside of it.

Relationships are not only with people.

They are woven with our words.

They are woven with our ideas.

They are woven with our actions and silence.

These relationships begin within—

within the inner nature of our own body

and within the inner nature of all Life around us.

And from this inner weaving

of many threads into one heart,

there rises a foundation:

Inner Kindness.

⸻

The Six Sacred Landscapes as Threads of Light

When suffering feels too great—

when Voice 1 screams with anger, helplessness, pain—

Conrad turns to the six outer landscapes

that have always held his people

in the sacred weaving of the Tz’utujiil Maya:

1. The Mountains

whisper steadiness into his breath.

Their stillness reminds him

that something greater has always been holding him.

In the ancient rock, he remembers:

pain is not all of who he is.

2. The Lake (Heart of the Water)

glimmers with the cellular memory of the ancestors.

In her reflection, he sees himself whole.

Even in grief, he is surrounded by beauty.

3. The Forest of Trees

breathes with him.

The trees do not rush.

They hold the memory of time that is slow and kind.

They teach him that healing moves at the pace of the Earth.

4. The Cornfields

speak of daily sustenance.

Of broken ground becoming nourishment.

Of body aches that still carry the seeds of life.

5. The Cloud Forest

moves in and out of visibility.

Like his feelings. Like his faith.

Mist that holds moisture,

not clarity—but nourishment.

6. The Three Volcanoes — San Pedro (Tchuk), Atitlán (Bulkaan), Tolimán (Pra’l)

carry the memory of Fire.

Not destructive alone—but transmuting.

In the heart of the volcanoes, he sees the First Fire

that transforms Voice 1’s pain into Voice 2’s light.

⸻

Voice 1

Conrad feels it all.

The grief.

The helplessness.

The rage.

His body aches. His chest tightens.

He wants to flee, collapse, scream.

These are the ways Voice 1 weaves itself:

• Into fight: to battle the injustice.

• Into flight: to run from the pain.

• Into freeze: to feel paralyzed in hopelessness.

Sometimes Voice 1 even pretends to be spiritual:

“It’s all a lesson.”

“Just let it go.”

“Compassion will come.”

But these are not rooted in the body.

They bypass the pain without sitting with it.

⸻

The Heart Within Voice 1

There is a heart inside Voice 1.

Not the reactive voice.

Not the spiraling thoughts.

Not the hardened stories.

But the heart within the pain.

It does not speak loudly.

It does not argue.

It simply feels.

This is the part of Conrad

that hurts honestly.

Not with judgment,

but with truth.

The part that says—

“This is too much for me.”

“I am afraid.”

“I don’t know how to go on.”

This heart does not fight.

It trembles.

It aches.

It longs to be held,

not fixed.

It is not trying to bypass suffering,

nor stay trapped in it.

It is simply the thread

of aliveness

that still beats

underneath the wound.

This is the Heart Within Voice 1 —

the part that wants kindness

but doesn’t yet know how to ask for it.

The part that wants to believe

he is still worthy of love

even when he feels broken.

The part that is not a lesson,

not a test,

not a spiritual bypass —

but a real human ache

longing for witness.

Sometimes, the Heart Within Voice 1

simply wants someone to sit beside it

and say:

“Yes. I see you. I feel this too.”

And that someone

must first be Conrad himself.

When he turns inward —

gently, slowly —

and places his hand upon the trembling part,

he is not erasing Voice 1.

He is beginning to listen.

And in the act of listening,

the weave begins.

Voice 2 does not need to arrive in fire.

Sometimes it arrives

in the hush

of a hand over the heart,

in the breath between sobs,

in the stillness that says:

“I won’t leave you here.”

The Heart Within Voice 1

is not something to overcome.

It is the seedbed

from which all compassion grows.

And it is here, in this sacred place,

that the First Fire of Light

begins to stir.

⸻

The Emergence of Voice 2: The First Fire of Light

Voice 2 is not louder than Voice 1.

It is quieter.

But more real.

It begins

when Conrad allows his inner kindness

to meet his own pain—

to hold the fire of sympathetic arousal

without fleeing or fighting it.

This is the Art of Remembering—

to feel the Heart Within still glowing

beneath all that has gone numb.

This is the First Light

rising through the smoke of despair.

Not an answer.

But a Presence.

A remembering that the Light of the Heart Within

is still here.

And it can be woven

with the Heart Within everything.

⸻

The Weaving of Many into One Heart

As Conrad breathes with the mountains,

walks by the lake,

sits beneath the trees,

touches the corn,

lets the mist of the cloud forest kiss his face,

and remembers the fire inside the volcanoes—

he is being rewoven.

Voice 1 does not disappear.

But it softens.

Because it is now being held

by the cellular threads of Light

that remember:

You are more than your suffering.

And the world is not only made of wounds.

The Weaving of Many into One Heart—

Kimoon K’uxlaal—

is not a concept.

It is a living cellular reality

that begins when we offer inner kindness

to the most painful voices within ourselves.

And from this kindness,

a new way of walking arises.

Not to erase suffering—

but to carry it

gently

together

into the Heart of Light.

⸻

This is one of many poetic ceremonial rituals i have created

In exploring and in forming a sacred relationship

with the Spirit of Moonflower — Toloache

This ritual weaves the inner light within Voice 1, with weaving the landscapes of Nature, with the weaving of my own emergence.

This ritual carries the ceremonial tone of the Tz’utujiil Maya heart

and honors the weaving of Voice 1 into Voice 2,

through Kimoon K’uxlaal, the One Heart

⸻

Moonflower Remembering

A Ceremonial Ritual of the One Heart

With Conrad, and the Spirit of Toloache

To be spoken at dawn or dusk, when the Moonflower opens and the veil between light and shadow becomes luminous again.

⸻

1. Opening the Heart Within Voice 1

Conrad kneels in silence beneath the sky, before speaking.

Conrad speaks:

O Spirit of Moonflower —

Toloache,

Soft awakener of night vision,

You who open in the darkness

And shine in the hidden hours —

I come to you with my brokenness.

These thoughts inside me — Voice 1 —

They spiral in sorrow, in despair,

In helplessness, rage, and longing.

I do not ask you to remove them.

I ask you to help me weave them.

Weave these pieces of my pain

Into the quiet Light you carry

So that even my suffering

Becomes part of a greater remembering.

He places his hand over his heart and breathes deeply through his nose.

Let me feel the place where my sorrow lives —

Not to push it away,

But to see the Light

Beneath its thorns.

⸻

2. Weaving with the Spirit of Toloache – The Moonflower’s Light

Conrad holds a small white flower or image of the Moonflower - Toloache.

He whispers:

O Moonflower,

You bloom only in the quiet dark.

Open me to what I have forgotten —

That even in my suffering,

There is a seed of Light

Pressing upward from the soil.

Let your Spirit enter the chamber of my heart

Where Voice 1 has lived alone.

Let your nectar soften the grip

Of those thoughts that shame me,

That silence me,

That pretend I am too broken to bloom.

He breathes again. Slowly. Eyes closed.

Tonight, Moonflower,

Enter my Heart Within Voice 1 —

And let your Light

Be the beginning of Voice 2.

⸻

3. Walking with the Six Outer Landscapes

Conrad begins to move, slowly, ritually, toward six directions — in his mind or body — calling forth the sacred landscapes.

a. Toward the Mountains:

O Sacred Mountains —

You who hold the oldest silence —

Weave my suffering into your deep bones.

Let the Spirit of Toloache rise with your stones

And bring stillness to my storm.

b. Toward the Lake (Heart of Water):

O Mirror of Light —

Lake of my ancestors —

Let the Moonflower’s reflection ripple through you.

Reflect my pain not as weakness,

But as part of the Light that remembers.

c. Toward the Forest of Trees:

O Grandfathers of Breath —

Tree Beings of the Old Forest —

Let Moonflower climb your trunks,

And bloom in your shaded limbs.

Let my grief be rooted,

And fed by your patience.

d. Toward the Cornfields:

O Sacred Corn —

You who carry the Light of humanity —

Let the Moonflower weave into your husks.

May my suffering become sustenance,

May my tears water the seeds of kindness.

e. Toward the Cloud Forest:

O Cloud Bearers —

You who disappear and reappear —

Carry the fragrance of Toloache

Through the mist of what I cannot yet see.

Hold my confusion in your vapor

Until it becomes clarity.

f. Toward the Three Volcanoes: San Pedro (Tchuk), Atitlán (Bulkaan), Tolimán (Pra’l):

O Fire Keepers —

Volcanoes of the Deep Heart —

Ignite the First Light of Voice 2

From the ashes of my Voice 1.

Let Moonflower bloom on your volcanic soil,

A medicine of transmutation.

⸻

4. Returning to the Heart Within: The Inner Light of Voice 2

Conrad returns to stillness. He places both hands over his heart.

He speaks:

Now I return to the Heart Within me.

I carry the thread of Moonflower,

I carry the voice of the Mountain,

The mirror of the Lake,

The breath of the Trees,

The nourishment of Corn,

The mist of the Cloud Forest,

And the fire of the Volcanoes.

These are no longer outside me.

They are within.

And in this weaving —

Voice 1 is not erased.

But loved.

Voice 2 begins to bloom

As the Flower of Inner Kindness.

⸻

5. Closing Blessing: Returning to the One Heart

I remember now

That I am not meant to carry this alone.

I am a single bloom

In the great field of Kimoon K’uxlaal —

The Weaving of Many into One Heart.

And through this weaving —

I am being remembered

Back into Wholeness.

Conrad breathes deeply. A stillness settles. He places the Moonflower on a small altar, or in the Earth.

I am becoming a Flower of Inner Kindness.

Even through suffering,

The Light still blooms.

Conrad Satala