As the Tortilla Burns - A Journey to the Depths of Your Soul

By Wendy L. Zake

This is a power house of a story equally packed with action and emotion. Often people's lives reflect the weather, such as hurricanes, and As The Tortilla Burns is such a story. It isn't all sweet and harmonious like invented stories, but tastes of disappointment, obstacles and bewilderment, of madness and dreams like the lives of real people who no longer lie to themselves, learning invaluable lessons about life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781312997646

Book preview

As the Tortilla Burns - A Journey to the Depths of Your Soul

AS THE TORTILLA BURNS

A JOURNEY TO THE DEPTHS OF YOUR SOUL

A MEMOIR

WENDY L. ZAKE

Copyright © 2015 Wendy L. Zake

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

As The Tortilla Burns – A Journey to the Depths of Your Soul

Author - Wendy L. Zake

Editor – Matt Mathavorn

Cover Photo – Deborah Dexter

ISBN: 978-1-312-99764-6

Global Light Minds Publishing

Website: www.globallightminds.com

Ordering Information:

Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, educators, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the above listed address.

U.S. trade bookstores and wholesalers: Please contact Publisher

Global Light Minds Publishing 2015

Dedication:

This book was written for:

Taylor, Dylon, Caden and Mason

And dedicated to all those in the throes of transformation:

"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.

But the greatest of these is love."

Acknowledgements:

The first person I would like to thank is You, Thank you for reading my book. There are so many people I met during this journey and everyone helped me to grow, my sincere gratitude to you of all.  Especially to Amanda for all you have done over our lifetime of friendship, I could not ask for more. This book would not have been written without your honest criticism and continued encouragement.

A Special Thank You to my Editor Matt Mathavorn, for taking time out of his busy schedule to read, edit and make suggestions using his red pen. Thank-you Matt, I couldn’t have finished without you.

To Debra Mapes for giving me the safety of a home where I have been able to work and live quietly the past four years.

You are an Angel in Disguise.

Thanks to Deb Dexter for providing the cover photo from our days of scuba diving around the world and our many years of friendship.

And with a big thanks to all the people who didn't help and stood in my way, you gave me the will and courage to keep going.

And to all the people who loved and supported me, Thank You for all of your encouragement, inspiration and hope to continue moving forward. I love you.

And last but not least to my loving son and beautiful grandsons for giving me my greatest joy.

Author’s Notes:

This is a work of nonfiction, I have drawn from a number of sources, including personal journals and original poetry, correspondences, researched facts when I could, consulted with several of the people who appear in the book and called upon my own memory of these events at this time in my life. This is also a memoir, which is to say that the story reflects my recollection and interpretation of events. I have changed the names of most but not all of the individuals in this book, and in some cases I also modified identifying details in order to preserve anonymity. There are no composite characters or events in this book. I occasionally omitted people and events, but only when that omission had no impact on either the veracity or substance of the story.

As The Tortilla Burns

Prologue: Looking Backwards

A woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing. She goes where she will without pretense and arrives at her destination prepared to be herself and only herself. - Maya Angelo

Somewhere during the time we are born and adolescents we create a world in our mind of how things should be. We come up the idea, as women, that we will meet our prince charming, get married, have children and live happily ever after in vine covered cottage with a white picket fence.  I grew up during the 50’s and 60’s.  I played with Barbie dolls and was taught to groom myself, learning the necessities of, cooking, cleaning and child rearing at an early age. After reaching middle age with two failed marriages and a multitude of other problems, the mirror that I was looking into shattered into a million pieces of charred glass. Each piece was a reflection of some part of me and the sharp edges didn’t fit anymore. Usually when something breaks, we might try and glue it back together or just use a broom and sweep all the pieces up in a dust pan and throw it all in the garbage and forget about it. But not this time, there were just too many pieces to try and clue back together and the glass was a deeper reflection of me, although broken, I thought I might be able to save some parts and create a whole new image of myself.

There comes a time in life where you stop blaming everyone for your problems and start to take on the responsibility of figuring out things for yourself.

We are born innocent into a world of the unknown. Imagine, we have asked to be here, picked our time to be reborn, and even our parents, situations and goals to be achieved. Our time is to be spent learning and Earth School will be our home until our time is finished and we leave. 

What we learn determines where we go next. There is the belief that we have lived before, in other civilizations; sometimes we have spent time with people who are in our life now, others we will meet might be a predestined sign post, to experience a relationship, to change our direction, learn a lesson or they might be people passing through on the way to someplace else. For some of us, we are haunted by another lifetime and come here to remember. Others have the ability to remember they have lived many lives going back to the beginning of time, as we know it.

Of course these are theories, or are they? Theories, thoughts or feelings, no one can know for sure. Nothing in life is for sure, nothing last forever not even rocks. We couldn’t possibly know why things happen to us, or maybe we can?

This is a story about one life that is intertwined with many, all the people I have met so far and all the people I am yet to meet. We all affect each other is subtle ways, sometimes in ways you will never know the impact and yet there will be many people who will know you, and will make such an influence that changes your lives forever.

By the time I reached my twenties, I knew I would write this book when I reached my 60’s. I can remember telling myself at 21 and a few close friends that this would be my last goal to accomplish. How could I know? I just did. I was to experience life to its fullest and sometimes hit bottom, keep some notes, which I have written through poetry and journaling and when the time came, I would be ready. I started writing when I was a child. In my early 50’s I started to write this book, I finished many chapters and then my life took off on another wild ride, another detour. The book got set aside for another seven years. Some of the original manuscript survived, but much of what is written was rewritten by a person, me now, who is matured and ready to tell the truth. You see, it wasn’t supposed to be a made up story, but a real story, the truth, about what life is.

The hardest part has been telling the truth, while some events I am proud of there are others I don’t regret, but if I had a do over, I would. I understand that by experiencing so many events in my life, I am able to have compassion for people who might feel because certain things happened in their life, they can’t go on. I’m here to tell you, You Can.  You know the words, NO, NO I CAN’T. It won’t work; these are words that don’t exist in my vocabulary.

I have always felt a bit like Wendy in Peter Pan and Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, I believe in magic, think happy thoughts and you can fly, the wicked witch and a mean pirate. Tornadoes, ruby slippers, Glenda the Good Witch and all you have to do is click your heels three times while whispering, I want to go home.   Peter crowing I don’t want to grow up and being a mother to a brood of lost boys, while wondering what happen to my own prince charming. Tin Man, Lion and Scarecrow, all I need is a heart, courage and a brain to get by in the world, when what I really wanted was Nana, the old sheep dog to protect me and the Darlings to be my parents. 

Then falling asleep in a poppy field, while I am on my way to Never Never Land, only to find out that the Emerald City and the Wizard are fakes, and quick rich schemes don’t work out. Life is confusing and it’s hard to read the signs…..you lose your way, you take detours, and ask which way do I go?

There is a sign post, but it’s pointing is four directions. Maybe I should have used another Fairy Tale and followed the bread crumbs back to the beginning, like Hansel and Gretel. I can hear the words, in a song; somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly, and way up high, in the sky, everything turns out perfectly and no one dies.

Back to the beginning, that’s where I am today. Life can only be understood looking backwards; but it must be lived moving forward. I can now go back and look at the pattern, what I have lived, learned, where I made mistakes, what I learned from them, so perhaps we all can learn, to see life as a continuous cycle.

I have been haunted by a past life, secrets, mysteries, betrayals, love gone bad, abandoned, and dumped. Somehow I have remained childlike in the way I live my life, still believing in magic, trusting in a higher power, angels, heavenly bliss in nature, wearing rose colored glasses and very grateful for every breath I take and the unique gifts bestowed upon me.

I believe we are all special and when you start believing you are and push through to the other side, putting your hand through the veil of illusion; you realize you can manifest whatever you desire.

We are creators, I created this life and this is my story.

Part One ~ You Don't Take a Journey

The Journey Takes You

A hero is an ordinary individual who finds strength to preserve and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles    -Christopher Reeve

Chaos shows up in our lives sometimes obviously, but every so often in insidious ways. During times of upheaval and the greatest adversity, you will find these are the places where profound transformation and empowerment are about to happen! If you can identify some of the root causes behind the chaos, confusion, or a cycle in your life that is forcing a change in order for you to live a happier and healthier life, then wherever the fear or resistance resides is the deep spot that needs resolving. You can choose to hold on or, at some point, let go and see where it takes you. When things are out of your control, no matter what you do to fix what’s broken, the glue will not hold; it will keep breaking, exploding into a million tiny pieces. When nothing is left, you will experience the most freeing moment of your life. You don’t take a journey; the journey takes you.

1

The Journey Begins

A Journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step

- Dwight Yoakum

My adventure in Mexico ended after seven years, beyond anybody's wildest imagination, a step into the scariest dream, a waking nightmare. The escapade dramatically altered my life and following the depth of the transformation, my eyes opened to the incomprehensible changes ahead of me. Before leaving Truckee, located in the Sierras, about 30 minutes from Lake Tahoe, I owned two houses, a restored 128-year-old Victorian downtown and a charming family home with a perennial garden, surrounded by mountains, pine trees, clear blue sky, and tranquility.

2007

At 57, I am starting over. I have been taken in by a good friend, penniless, with two dogs, three cats, along with a few of my cherished belongings crammed into my car and a five-by-nine foot utility trailer. The rest was stolen, aside from items sold to buy a car, gas and food for the journey home: Not much, compared to the overwhelming amount of material possessions I collected, reminders of a past life—souvenirs, I call them. I am happy, albeit poorer, with no stuff; yet, I somehow managed to retain all my faculties. I am not in a looney bin or filled with hate and fear. Although plagued with insomnia while memories replay throughout the night in my dreams, letting loose a swell of tears in the morning, I wake with a sense of not knowing where I am.

Moving into a new home surrounded by pine trees on property owned by a friend, Jeff, situated 10 miles out of town on Highway 89, I settled into a shiny Airstream trailer. Hired for a part-time job the first week back and with a steady paycheck, a new sense of security encouraged me to start writing. Telling this story is the best way I know to lay a harrowing experience behind me forever and perhaps save others from making the same mistakes I did...or to help them gain insight into whatever the universe might require of them.

I am a spiritual person—or, I should say, I grew into a spiritual person after finding myself on a path of personal growth. In the morning, I include time to read inspirational books, while adding a few minutes to meditate in order to start my day with a sense of balance. As the chaos began to settle and new routines unfolded, a creative urge to begin writing this story provided me a new perspective with a detached approach.

The frequent disturbing thoughts and flashbacks triggered bewilderment whenever I first woke up, many parts of my life were missing, and the sudden remembering of random events brought melancholy along with tears.

Jeff remained my friend, after we dated briefly. Due to her advancing age, his mom Gwen now lived with him in a cabin not far from the main house. We gathered in the kitchen; Jeff and his mom sat around the table while I fixed breakfast. I often unconsciously lapsed into conversations with memories of Mexico. One morning, I remembered the foreign currency I collected from around the world. All stolen, along with the shiny, new bills my brother Keats had given me from his trip to Japan; he had died a few months before. I remembered the note from Shanghai my Dad gave me years ago, when he served as a merchant seaman during the Korean War—he had died in December. Tears burst out and trickled down my cheeks.

That’s an upbeat way to start the morning, Jeff chuckled, You’re starting to repeat yourself like my mom with dementia. We laughed.

Somehow, it was more than just losing stuff. I hadn’t dealt with my emotions, and they seeped out at inappropriate times. The enormous shock of what I thought was my biggest failure and the overwhelming guilt I felt when family members died remained unresolved. I displayed a brave front, while inside I struggled in turmoil.

As I read the clear message from the I Ching, a wave of relief washed over me. There wasn’t anything wrong with me any normal person would probably experience similar emotions. My friends were supportive and proud of how I had handled the situation with humility by getting a job, living in a trailer, not complaining, and presenting courage and happiness instead. A mature personality dawned, much to my surprise. I thought to myself, I’ve grown into a different person.

One hears thunder unexpectedly! First comes fear, then a sharpened, clearer vision. Recall a close brush with danger, a falling branch, and an automobile accident barely avoided by an escape from a potentially violent confrontation. Such incidents first arouse every nerve fiber in your body in a brief wave of terror, but soon, once the danger passes, give way to a heightened awareness of the world. The same process also occurs with other types of shock—the loss of a job, the death of a loved one, a business failure, and so on.

The lasting impact of major shock can be either stimulating or debilitating, depending upon one’s inner strength of character. The critical factor is the ability to become immune to fear, thereby transforming anxiety into a laser-sharp perception of the world around you.

When overtaken by crisis, the wise search their hearts for inner strengths, in order to face the world with courage. Courage often means daring to take the unexpected path—to bounce back quickly and with confidence after failure and have faith in the eternal when confronted with death.

We tend to think of shock only in the context of unpleasant events. We can also be jarred, however, by the sudden release of tension that comes with unexpected success. To keep your bearings in the aftershock of either trauma or victory, it is essential that your inner compass align with your true north, the magnetic force guiding you toward fulfilling both your deepest desire and your highest destiny.

My heart spoke to me; a magnetic force within was guiding me revealing aspects of myself that I was unaware of. They called out to me years before—was it divine timing? I resisted the temptation to leave my home and risk all that I had accumulated over the past 30 years. I had responsibilities, and the idea of leaving family and friends behind to start a new life stirred fresh excitement mixed with fear.

The chaos in my life wasn’t a mystery: A once-stable marriage unexpectedly exploded in divorce; a successful, 10-year career as publisher and editor for The Dive Travel and Adventure Guide Magazine ended, empty-nest syndrome arrived when Shane my only child, got married; and then 9/11 happened. I found myself alone for the first time in 30 years, and each time I successfully jumped the hurdles after my divorce, a new voice deep inside grew louder, urging me to follow my dreams. Smoke from the tortilla began to rise, and a new fire slowly burned. I took a leap of faith, not knowing the direction the journey would take.

This story is not like ones from the movies where the beautiful, single woman goes to Italy and finds true love after getting flour on her face when she makes pizza for the first time. This is a story about a woman who falls flat on her face, goes to jail, and does not collect $200.00 when she passes go. Some people have nightmares, and some people live through nightmares—this was mine. My destiny was to face all my fears, abandon all my past beliefs, and start living my life again with a new beginning.

2

Please Help I’m in Mulege

Cries for help are frequently inaudible. ― Tom Robbins

Here is a copy of a letter I wrote in 2004:

Dear Friends,

My name is Wendy Zake; I am the owner of The Villa, a beautiful inn and spa. I have been in Mulegé nearly 3 years. When I first arrived, I found this dilapidated house for sale owned by a Mexican couple, Rollo and Olivia. I agreed to buy it and promised a clear title. I paid a down payment to show honesty in my attempt, and everyone was all smiles on the day I put a check into Rollo’s hand. I began renovations while waiting for the paperwork to be final in a few months.

My furniture was locked in the house for a week, with marijuana growing in the gardens and immigration called, trying to close me down. The water was cut off. I was told that I could not use the existing water lines on the property, so I installed new ones, while I was without water for six weeks. I replaced leaky roofs, put in electricity and hot water, and painted and refurbished the entire house. It is beautiful here.

My problems continue without a clear title, and now Rollo and Olivia are spreading rumors that I am renting. They have done everything they can to get me to leave, except throw me off a cliff, and I am afraid it might be the next thing on their list. I was recently robbed by a maid of $1,500, while seven of my nine birds died by someone breaking their necks. Last month, I painted the terrace again, a happy color of rose; three days later, someone threw white paint all over it during the night, and now I’m finding dead chickens on the terrace.

I want a person to step in who speaks Spanish better than I do, to help negotiate a truce. It took me over a year to move and will take the same amount of time to leave or provide me with a title, so I can live in peace. My last paying job was as an editor of a magazine; I plan to write articles with pictures of Rollo and Olivia, so that people can read what happens when buying property in Mulegé. I am open for business and remain so.

I cannot sit quietly; someone needs to know.

Sincerely,

Wendy Zake

I wrote the letter and emailed a couple of people. In Mexico, if you complain too loudly, they deport you. No one replied, a friend did call and said, Are you crazy?

I said, I think I am.

In my opinion, Mexico is not for the weak of heart. If you want to come and buy a trailer on the beach, and then spend the rest of your life drinking and fishing, you are in the right place. I retired early to write a book and decided that I would open an inn and spa. With the fortitude of an ox and more money than God, you might have a chance. However, Mexico is a place to come for vacation, not to own a business or buy a house.

Let me back up a bit. First of all, I am a reasonably intelligent, divorced woman. After running interference after the 9/11 incident, I decided to sell my Victorian downtown, close my business, rent out my house, and take a break to live in Mexico. I headed down past San Diego, not too far away from the border, and found a sweet bungalow by the ocean on Rosarito Beach. I set up camp with a six-month lease. I wanted to write a novel and chose a subject I thought would interest readers: a love story about twin souls who reunite in the present. In my early twenties, while traveling in Central America, I experienced an unusual and unexplainable apparition or vision and felt compelled to research the incident. I was a published travel writer for a number of successful years, and travelled all over the world. I wanted to learn the process of writing a book, and the story intrigued me.

Twenty-Five Years Earlier:

Traveling through Central America in my early twenties, we stopped in Panama overnight and checked into an inexpensive hotel by the harbor, used by business travelers. My companion Amanda and I shared a room. We had twin beds, hers against the wall and mine next to a set of windows. We climbed into bed for an early departure the next morning and our long trip back to the US.

During the night, a voice awakened me. As I opened my eyes, a vision appeared on the curtains. I sat up in bed and glanced over at Amanda sleeping soundly. I slapped my face to be sure I was awake. The voice said something to me, in my head. Two men appeared before me out of a hazy veil. The first was an older man, balding with a round face and wearing a white ruffled shirt, like in pirate movies. The other man, a younger version, had dark, long hair and a black ribbon holding his hair in a ponytail—I only saw his profile.

The older man spoke to me: You were sailing to Spain, fell overboard off the ship, and drowned. At that moment, I saw myself falling into the water in a white dress, wearing a straw hat with black ribbons. As I sank to the bottom, billows of white engulfed me as black ribbons floated in the water above me. The older man said clearly, We will find you.

I thought, He could be my father and the other man a brother, but I wasn’t sure. The mysterious vision faded, and the message became fuzzy, like in the game Myst. I couldn’t hear any more. I stared at the black-and-white, plaid curtains in a hazy fog, wondering if the ghostly figures were products of my imagination.

The next morning, we left for the States without any idea about past lives or what the vision meant, I forgot about that night and never mentioned it to anyone until 25 years later, when the vision returned to my memory. It had left an impression on me. My sense of adventure has always been with me, and still is. I have always loved the sea and sailing, and never had a fear of water, except the first time I learned to scuba dive.

And with a vague and mysterious longing I couldn’t talk about, for fear that people might think I’m crazy—a dream I couldn’t push away, that whispered to me in my sleep; a mystery to solve, a haunting that created an obsession to discover the factual significance.  And all the while dramatic events in my life kept changing, until one day I found myself on my own and realized I could follow my dreams wherever they took me.

3

Freedom

Freedom to feel what it is that your heart desires, Regardless of what other think - Paulo Coelho

Sitting in an ocean front bar in Castillo Del Mar, Mexico where I decided to spend a few months, I sipped on a cold beer while gazing at the waves gently rolling as the sun reflected on a sea full of glittering diamonds. I introduced myself to the bartender in my broken Spanish. Me Ilama, Wendy.

Yo estoy Victor, mucho gusto, he replied. We made small talk; and he asked if I was married.

No I said, I am taking a break from relationships, a long break.

I began to evaluate my adventures and disappointments, the joy of my only son, but mostly my failed relationships. To rediscover myself had been the purpose for heading down to Mexico.

I guess changes began earlier. A ten-year second marriage ended unexpectedly. The divorce, took a toll on me emotionally, physically and financially. Divorce is not a fun for anyone, even if you are the one who initiates it, which I wasn't. After losing 40 pounds reaching a mere 89 lbs., I lost 85 percent of waist length hair from stress; I finally won in the divorce settlement our commercial building, in a bitter fight. I decided to open a Day Spa, a change from publishing and writing, hoping for a new direction, purpose and scope. I set about remodeling and hiring, refinancing and opening for the winter season. The Spa did well the first year, the business paid the bills, and I worked too many hours, leaving no time to feel sorry for myself. My hair grew, I gained a few pounds and after four years, my wounds were healing.

The following year the presidential election stalled the economic climate. Business dropped off, property values declined, 911 blew the lid off, and Truckee suffered. I relied heavily upon tourists for income. We had a successful winter, summer came and the busy streets downtown now had for rent signs posted. I invested an enormous amount of time and money into the new business, while it kept me busy and close to my son and grandchildren, Shane's life with a wife, children, and work kept him busy, and I rarely saw him. I sensed an impending doom.

The following October, my house and commercial building, were draining dwindling cash reserves. I needed to think fast, before the investments went down the tubes. Interested buyers called often asking if I wanted to sell my prime piece of real estate in a historical downtown location. One afternoon I called a neighbor, making an offer he couldn't refuse. I walked away with a tidy bundle; I paid off my debts and lived to fight another day.

I decided to go on a vacation, a well-deserved rest from workaholic tendencies to enjoy a recently gained freedom as a single woman. A new perceptive on life seemed to be calling me. I booked a flight and a hotel in Loreto, Mexico for a week to lounge on a warm beach and I arranged to meet an old friend in San Diego. To avoid the rush before Christmas I bought a tree finished the gift shopping, hung the lights, decorated the house and planned our traditional family Christmas Eve Dinner by ordering the crab and champagne before I left.

I arrived late in the evening and spent seven cold and windy boring days in Loreto wishing I could leave, but no flights.

Was I Miss Doom and Gloom? My life never used to be like this. Did I need to learn a lesson? I passed the week quietly in Loreto, looking forward to San Diego and Roger a friend from high school. Roger had been my sister's boyfriend and when they broke up, he cried on my shoulder. We became good friends, never lovers, he was a jock and I was a hippy, the only interest we had in common was my younger sister Iris. We lost touch after college, he relocated to Southern California and we reunited on classmates.com after 30 years.

Roger picked me up at the airport, both of us starved we stopped for crab salad sandwiches at a Deli on the wharf