Brain Stroke Hits Altar

Will It Falter?

Welcome to our Altar,

The Teocalli Ollin Chicomxochitl

one of the names given to our little fireplace/altar. Names are a topic that will emerge with time, and it was just that thought that kept us from sharing our name before today. However, the presence of the Reaper being ever-so-close these days (i.e., the stroke), we decided to put it out there while we still have a shot.

House of God, Movement, Seven Flower is how it translates from the Nahuatl language. The total name covers our function pretty well, and it did come to us, as power names should, organically, in the natural flow, growth and rhythm of working the fireplace.

What can be said of “House of God, or Teocalli?” That describes pretty much an altar, a fireplace, aimed at the Great Mystery of life, Creation, and all the questions and answers that opens, in all the many ways that humans enter those openings.

Movement,” has a special “quickening” energy to it. It comes from the Aztec Calendar Day Sign, Ollin. It brings life, the breath of life, the chi, the ki, life force, to something that is otherwise lifeless or simply non-existent. In other words, it’s about creation.

As you know, Creation has some issues, and so does ours. Sadly, in actual practice, we are not the magic bullet many seek, but no matter how we and Spirit handle the situation, we always, always, always, bestow a little Ollin, a little push to our patient’s evolutionary flight, a push for the best possible outcomes for all concerned.

Chicomxochitl, “Seven Flower” is a personality of Quetzalcoatl, the Plumed Serpent, and that’s a subject the size of the whole world we inhabit. Some say Seven Flower was a God (a human attaining full realization) that established human beings’ authority over the Spirit World.

And truly human beings do have authority over the spirit world. It is tricky for one to accept that until it’s actually tested but it bears out. We had to learn it by meeting and dealing with those spirits while helping others learn how to do it in their homes. The surprising fact is that the authority over spirits doesn’t come from our holiness or any major power we may possess; it comes merely because one has a physical body functioning, alive, on Earth.

Spirits, no matter how dark or light they may be, don’t pay rent, they don’t suffer pain, they don’t get married and have children. While there are many types of spirits all around us, on this planet, we human beings, fortunately or unfortunately, are the responsible party. It’s all part of the free will thing. We decide if we want spirits around or not.

Some of you who have experienced spiritual battle know this isn’t as easy as it may sound. It’s going to take a lot more than a confident slogan to dis-entrench sprits with their hooks in a house or a family, but we fleshed ones do have the authority.

Over time we learned that Chicomxochitl, whther he was a God-Man or not, teaches us more than authority and power. He also teaches us to work with Spirits to make our Earthwalk a little easier.

Chicomxochitl teaches us it’s our right to call in spiritual help without selling our soul or any other damn thing, for that matter. So welcome Dear Reader, to the words and deeds of this humble altar. No matter what,


BUT WAIT: From the staff of, an update:

Of course, a brain stroke didn’t actually hit the altar. It hit our lead curandero who is also the publisher/editor of the blog. As those happy to carry water and chop wood for the altar, we can’t help but worry if the altar will falter, after a hit like that.

The Curandero called one day, told us his eyes and center of gravity had just gone flip. He then joked he didn’t mean to be flip about it, but that we have to remember, simply, that shit like this that happens on the planet.

“What more proof do you want,” he challenges, “When word got out I was in the hospital, a long list of healers, seers and alternative healing practitioners put some trabajo together. Maybe they said a quick prayer, or pulled a tarot card, or turned a crystal.”

We sent Serafina, to put eyes on the Curandero. She reports he continued in the same vein.

“My kids told co-workers. Some of them maybe said it aloud, ‘Hope the old fucker makes it,’ and maybe it was more for my son than for me. It’s OK. It works. Maybe, too, one or two of my fellow healers are doing a daily routine, for a time, or a special trabajo of some kind…I don’t know for sure, but…”

“Yes,” says Serafina to the old man, “We’ve all been praying some way or another for you.”

“And my sincere thanks, because none of the people praying for me have any obligation to carry me, yet they have been carrying me. The dance with Western Medicine moves oh-so-slowly and if it wasn’t for spirits around the altar, both those with bodies and the others, I’d be getting nothing besides a new pill.”

“Sounds like strong ollin to me, Grandpa, the quickening you’re always talking about” says Serafina, “sure is quickening you.”

“Yeah, it didn’t take much, huh? Word got out fast. Spirits here, spirits there, I have nothing but gratitude for these folks, and I pray hard we can pay it forward.”

“So,” continues Serafina, “can we say that the altar…”

“We can say I took the hit, and the altar is fixing me up, to carry on or to pass it on.”

As we say:


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