Yota the Shopper

Yota was at Shopper’s Cradle Grocery Store. Her eyes were brown but she wore blue contact lenses. Her friends and family marveled at her unusual way of attracting all kinds of luck. She seemed not to notice it. Yota felt an ancient lingering call of plea, deep inside her belly at all times. It was as familiar to her as the stars are to the sky. She didn’t talk about it or question it but this plea ran her life.  Her dog, Millie, a cocker spaniel, understood this about Yota and this gave Yota great comfort. When her dog was with her, the feeling didn’t subside but somehow it became a lot more bearable.

Yota’s mother, Sharene died three days after childbirth. Her mother was using crack during her pregnancy and drinking daily. She named Yota, Yola after her own Grandmother who was named Yolanda and called Yola for short. In the hospital, Sharene was so out of it that her signature on the birth certificate was hardly legible as was Yola’s name which appeared to be Yota. When Yota’s Mother died, an invisible chord in Yota’s belly stayed attached to her Mother. Yota experienced life as something that ached.

After passing over, Sharene did much repentance and became devoted to serving her child from the other realms. This is how Yota was blessed constantly with such magical grace. For all of the smooth and unexplainable fortune that fell in Yota’s lap, were focused and effortful steps taken by her Mother in other realms. When Yota wanted to become a photographer but had no money, her mother had Uncle Fred, also deceased, contact his child, Yota’s cousin, Freddy Jr.. Freddy awoke in the night with an unexplainable urge to call Yota and give her an unexpected financial gift.

When Yota longed for a loving partner, her mother planted an idea in both Yota and Samuel’s minds to go to Shoppers Cradle at 6 pm on Tuesday and it is there that they met at the vegetable section. Samuel was the son of a very loving man that Sharene met in the other worlds. After hearing all about him she felt he was a perfect candidate for marrying Yota. Of course, only her daughter would know for sure. Yota loved Samuel dearly and he, her. He was a steady source of calmness in Yota’s life. She was unexplainable wonder in his.

On August 11, 2004 Yota was at Shopper’s Cradle purchasing eggplant for her ratatouille. Cooking was her most enjoyed hobby. She was eager to make Samuel’s favorite dinner. He had been gone three days on business and this would be a wonderful welcome home. Unfortunately, there were no eggplants in the store and it was close to closing time. “Why doesn’t anything work out!?” she said to herself. In a twisted and unnoticed way she enjoyed blaming life and life’s circumstances for this and that. It was a habit that reassured her, by somehow how justifying the lingering belly ache, that plagued her and never really went away.

As she turned to exit the store, a tall woman in a Shopper’s Cradle coat rolled a cart of eggplants down the aisle. She looked at Yota sheepishly with blue eyes. “Forgot to stock em’ earlier but closing isn’t for thirty minutes. They’re really ripe. Do you like eggplants?” She spoke sharply to Yota and then muttered, “Boss is gonna be angry,” to herself.

Yota was delighted and chose the best of the bunch: strong smooth black eggplants. Dinner would be perfect! She proceeded to check out. Short on cash, and without enough time to stop at the bank she had gone through all her pockets and collected $3.17 of coins. Eggplant was cheap in Santa Cruz and this would cover it.

            “$9.99” said the cashier.

            Yota was surprised. Prices must have gone up so she pulled out her debit card. Shopper’s Cradle was a tiny store and would not take checks any more.

            “I’m sorry, Mam. The machines haven’t been working all day. We’re trying to figure out what the problem is. Got an engineer working on it right now but I’ll need cash or a check.”

“I though you didn’t take checks,” Yota said.

            “Usually not, but today, due to the circumstances, we do.”

            “Alright.” She pulled out her check book. She had used the last check to pay the electric bill and forgotten to put a new book of checks in. She felt disappointed, irritated and quite justified for having an ache in her belly.

“Yota, Yota!” It was Stacey, a friend of Yota’s from the book club.

“I’m out of checks,” she said to the clerk and went to see her friend.

“Funny to see you,” Stacey laughed. Her laughter was curly and catchy, twirling gleefully from the pit of her belly. Yota felt safer than usual when Stacey was around. Something about Stacey was very planted on the earth in a trusting way. “My next stop is the mail box. I was going to write you a check and stick it in this envelope. I was going to drop an invitation and a check to you in the mail.”

            “For what?” Yota asked.

            “I’m having a summer party for all the book club members. I owe you $20.00 from that time we went to the art festival together.” Yota had completely forgotten.

            “Here,” Stacey said. “Let me give you the invitation and this. She handed Yota a $20 bill. Little sparkles of magic glittered around Yota who hugged her friend. They gabbed for a while, said there goodbyes and then, Yota and went to pay the cashier.

“Sorry, Mam” We’re closed.” Yota and Stacey had been so immersed in their exchange that they missed the “Five minutes, shoppers. Final call to purchase your goods.”

Now Yota was really angry. What kind of a joke was life playing on her? She went home so furious that she no longer noticed the pleading call in her stomach.

“Yota!” Stan was home early. They pulled up at almost the same time from opposite directions. He ran to give her a big hug and kiss. Millie jumped up to the little window high up on the door, scratching on the door and barking “Wo Wa! Wo Wa!”

“I have a surprise,” he said. I ran into the Morrison’s in town when I stopped to pick up my resoled shoes. They said they have been serving your recipe at their restaurant. They are so grateful that you shared it that they would like us to come to the restaurant on them, as often as we like. Isn’t that amazing? We were just saying how we wished we had a cook besides ourselves  for the busy times and it’s our favorite restaurant. They sent me home with some ratatouille. Now I know, it’s never going to be good as your own cooking, but it’s a treat.”

“Yum,” said Yota. They went inside; both hugged Millie and set the table for dinner. Yota thoroughly enjoyed the meal in her heart and felt deeply acknowledged. She was delighted to be served her own recipe, feeling it was high praise. Yota was generous and shared what she had freely. She felt cheery as she ate dinner; accept for that feeling in the pit of her belly.

Stariam

            Their was a race of beings, called humans who were born from stars having dreams, searching for something, hoping this life time to find whatever it was they had misplaced. What many of these beings deeply hungered for when the sun came up, thirsted for in days of work, and thrusted their will for, in all kinds of projects, Stariam already had. Stariam was not human. He longed only for two things. In the morning when he rose he longed for warm socks which he immediately put on each day so that he began the day satiated. He also longed to burst light into the world and stretch love into places where dormancy had temporarily kept the light from coming in.

            Stariam spoke to his mentor, Timeiam about fulfilling his desires. Timeiam suggested that he visit earth where he was most needed. “Everyone’s content with being content here in dimension 5, but a lot of the humanbeings on earth in dimension 3 have all kind of objections and hang ups about it. I think you could fulfill your mission and do a lot of good there.”

            Stariam liked the idea. Timeiam had no attachment to what Stariam did or didn’t do for he knew that the source of liberation came through each beings uniqueness. Stariam was a fine indivisablebeing in Timeiam’s opinion. He trusted Stariam and all indivisablebeings to choose best for their particular individual journeys.

On earth, some of the souls who were partially self realized made the sorrowful assumption  that others would reach their state by doing it there own way. This lead to all kinds of confusion. Not only did it rob individuals of their own unique divinity but it ultimately made the leaders who taught in this way go bizurk. A number of them were sent to Threa, planet where Stariam and Timeiam lived, for help after death. Many were to upset to receive help and polarized themselves right back to earth for immediate reincarnation in new bodies.

            On the day that Stariam was to travel through the dimensional exchange channel, Timeiam said, “Remember that when you get to earth, there will be signs. Shifting dimensions is, at times, unpredictable and can lead to some forgetfulness. There will always be a glowing golden light to guide you as well as signs. As long as you remember who you are, all is well in your world.” Stariam felt speckles like rain glittering around him as he entered the dimension channel changer. It was the flies. For many years, whenever Stariam had seen a fly, living or dead he had blessed it. All of them flickered around him in soul essence, protecting him with sparkling magic.

            There were complexities which are seeds for complications when he emerged on earth. The trip was quick, almost instantaneous, but in the moment of transition, Stariam was muddled, comforted and lost all at once in a cloud. He landed with deep hope in his heart, right in Santa Cruz, California with no knowledge of English, no map of the town, and forgetfulness about his name. Upon his arrival he heard the “whoo whoo of an owl,” and some how concluded that Who Who was the name for him to use while on earth. His first sighting was a license plate framed with “Victory Toyota.” He copied down the words and put them in his pocket. He stroked the silky straight blond hair on his head, the same hair he wore in Threa. This helped him to remember who he was. Fortunately, he arrived with his warm cotton socks in tact and for this he was deeply pleased.

            Stariam was born onto earth as a twenty eight year old man with downs syndrome. The only way to translate his level of evolution to earth, his ability to be fully present, and his ease with love, affection and expression that is authentic to the earth spheres was to make him a being of the downs syndrome gene. Reading and writing did not come particularly easy to him but he worked with great diligence. Conversational English came quickly.  

Getting around was not a problem. He camped out. People offered him food. He picked oranges, lemons, and avocados from trees he discovered downtown.  He found a dumpster behind Shoppers Cradle where food, to old to sell, but good enough to nourish was dumped each evening after closing.  He had what he needed. He learned what needed to be learned. In time he was able to read the welcome greeting he had spotted and saved in his pocket. “Victory to Yota!”

Yota and Stariam

They sat together in the park, both surrounded by tingling magical sparks. His belly was full of love. Her’s was in need. He was 28 but had the jolliness of a young child. She was 36 and had a  flowingness about her.

She had woken up happy that day. After eating ratatouille that her friends made with her recipe the night before, she was refreshed. She couldn’t help but notice her own good luck as she sat on the bench, next to Who Who. Although she didn’t really notice Who Who yet, he was affecting her, pulling her into new territory. He was a vague image on the other side of the bench.  She had new thoughts. She was noticing her good luck. It seemed to follow her everywhere. She woke up, for the first time in her life, fully aware of it and astounded. “I am blessed,” she thought. “I am followed by a lucky charm. Whatever I need comes to me. Truly, it always has.”

“Hello,” he said.

            “Hi,” she replied.

            “What’s your name?” he asked.

            “Yota,” she replied, “and yours?”

            “Yota Andyors,” he said.

            “No, I mean, I’m Yota. Just plain Yota.What is your name?”

            “I’m Who Who.”

            Beyond any personality he currently wore, beyond the time of day, beyond anything that would make sense to a member of the earth planet, he knew there was purpose to their meeting. He felt it in his heart. He didn’t explain it with too many words. He knew it in his belly. That was enough. He did recognize her name with words.

            She didn’t know why but the feeling was so strong she didn’t need to. She wanted to shelter this man. To her, he was more of a boy. She invited him to live in their studio apartment which had been used as a guest house. Samuel was shocked but took a rapid and tender liking to Who Who over dinner and agreed to it for one month. The month became a year plus a bit more.

Samuel

Perhaps, things just have a way of coming together when they need to, Samuel thought to himself, sitting above stacks of donations, watching Who Who dancing with all the guests in the yard, feeling how his wife had become happier. He watched his wife bring the oatmeal cookies out to everyone and watched them cheer, “Victory to Yota!”

It started out like a play but quickly turned into something else. He felt a little odd about it at times, not wishing to fool anyone. But people were so happy. Yota seemed to bring out the best in them. Who Who brought out the best in her. They had never had children. Although Who Who was too old to be their child, he gave them a gift of innocence and playfulness that many children bring.

Samuel had wished to quit his job for years and now they were making as much money through the daily festivals as he had as a business man. Yota cooked meal after meal. Who Who lead dances. People made donations. Samuel took care of keeping the finances organized. More and more guests showed up from word of mouth.

First it was like a party with a great cook. Then it turned into somewhat of a worshipping. Yota was looked at as a spiritual teacher by some though she never claimed the role herself. Others thought she was a Goddess. Some just liked her cooking. A few thought she was a reincarnation of Mother Mary.

Things began to spin on their own wheels. The regular followers began to make rules. First there were rules about how to behave. One time, when Yota was fighting off an oncoming flew, she asked for silence. From that day on, due to misunderstanding, all Fridays were proclaimed as days for silence. Those who didn’t obey were asked to leave by some of the strongest members of the followers.  Canine Millie made friends with some of the followers  jumping to lick their faces as thought hey were old friends. Others, she did not wish to be around and growled at  or avoided for reasons unknown to Yota and Samuel.  She adored Stariam.

Unbeknown to Yota, a hierarchy was building around her by those who thought themselves to be most important and worthy of her love. How this was concluded, Samuel did not know but he picked up bits of information here and there. “When Divine Yota hugged you it meant you were one of the chosen. When Divine Yota gave you a biscuit from her own hands it meant you had fallen.”

            Whenever she served food, “Victory to Yota was cheered!”

Stariam

         He taught them “Victory to Yota,” which made her laugh and feel proud. He taught them none of the rest. They made it all up in effort to fill some emptiness that crawled and crept inside their hearts. Her heart was full like his and her stomach had mended the first day she had that new thought. In the following days she was no longer driven by a need to hide or delete that plaguing longing. That was gone. She was driven to share her joy and cooking was her way.

            But the community built itself. Soon people were wearing red scarves if they were chosen and blue scarves if they needed to work their way back up after falling. The rules intensified. The orders with which the top of the hierarchy managed those in lower ranks grew in meanness.

            He had few words to express his feeling that something was going wrong. It plagued him in the pit of his belly. She tried to comfort him. Samuel saw his forlorn face and felt guilty.

Victory to Yota!

            The crowds had grown and she was asked to make a speech. She was a cook, not a speech writer but she acquiesced to the request, wishing only to share her joy. Here is what she said.

            “Once I was sad and now I am full. Once I found ways to blame and now I find ways to serve. Once I found excuses to be angry and now I find reasons to be thankful.  Had I not met Who Who, I would not have changed. Had I not been Samuel’s partner I would not be living in this delight. Had I not listened to myself, I would still be complaining.

            “There is no way but your way. Each person is like a snowflake, unique in your gift of being you.  If you follow my way you will not arrive at where you long to be. Enjoy my food, the cooking of which is a sharing of the fullness I am. But to be full, you must honor yourself, not me. Thank me as I thank you. I am here because of you. You are here because of me.

            “My role models are Samuel, Who Who and all of you. Samuel works diligently and makes the most of whatever happens. Who Who calls forth the best from all he meets. All of you celebrate and receive my gifts. But please, receive your own gifts first and foremost for that is the only place happiness dwells. Millie sat proud and purposeful next to Yota as she spoke.

Who Who

Who Who died that night. An owl was heard when he had a heart attack. It was the only way that his transition back to the fifth dimension could be explained without a scientific uproar so that is how it was arranged to look by forces nobody on earth could see.

Yota was surprised that she was happier than sad. She didn’t long for her teacher. She felt his calm peaceful gentleness deep in her heart and belly. She continued to cook.

Samuel did miss Who Who very much. They continued to have many guests and earn plenty of money. He was grateful to have his own business and to see his wife so jubilant but he longed for Who Who’s presence. Millie comforted him.

Who Who felt the longing from far way and began to prepare his friend, Share

to visit earth and help. It was destined that Share would do so and that with her help, Samuel would also find his way home to himself.

            The crowds did all kind of things. Some ignored everything Yota had said and some took her message in deeply, making it there own. Really it was theirs. It belonged to everyone. Yota shared her wisdom with the same generosity that she shared her cooking. It was Who Who that had sensed from the moment they sat together in the park, that something like this would happen.

            He didn’t know how. He couldn’t explain it with predications or words. He just knew what most needed to be known. Millie did too.

Perpetual copyright 2004 Dr. Laurie Moore. Do not republish without permission of the author. Thank you.

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