My friend Michael, dancing with the Yaheh
This is who I am today.
Cognizant of life’s mysterious, rock solid in the face of fabulous trauma, unafraid of event horizons and armaggedons. Ready. Steady.
But goddamn paralyzed with the details of life. I’m not fond.
That’s not exactly true; I am fond. I’m just fumbling. But it’s all a blindingly beautiful gift. Even the resistance.
Meanwhile, back at the maloka . . .
Night Three occurred somewhere around the trip to the petting zoo. I got to hold a sloth (my new favorite creature), cuddle up with a boa, and stare awestruck at a manic monkey. These were good times.
The third ceremony started just as the others have – quietly. Safely. In a room pulsing with energies, anxieties, and potential.
Thank god for the sugar cane. The Ayahuasca this night absolutely floored me. As the others came forward, dropping to their knees to accept her and drink her in, I had to bolt to the bathroom and tell myself to keep it. Down, down. Purging can’t start for at least an hour or so, or you lose the messages and visions. I didn’t want mine to go sailing down a toilet bowl.
I won. She stayed. So I returned to the circle, and it was almost Time.
The Shaman told us this night would be powerful.
I had just a smidgen of fear – but I stretched out my hands, palms up, as the lights were snuffed, and dammit, I wanted to fly.
She hit me like a freaking freight train in mere moments. Intensity so inescapable, I feared a psychotic break. Truly. My visions swarmed in to surround me; pulsing neon light grids swirling at breakneck speed and making me dizzy. The primal buzzing soared into both ears and my fingers dug into the chair to keep from screaming. One of my angels – or perhaps Ayahuasca herself – kept telling me to listen. I was trying to bargain; can I just get this mess to calm down a bit so I can truly lock in? Can someone please help my heart calm down?
Too much. Too much to focus on. Too much to hear. My body seethed with layers of energy. I felt myself rise up and float above the chair, slipping into frequencies I have never felt. And cannot describe. I was leaving my body and yet we wanted to stay together – everything was a dichotomy. Too goddamn much.
I threw my head forward and prayed for a purge. Something to release the hold. My stomach imploded into itself every microsecond, and I heard others in the room start to release. Load, bellowing purges and belches – nothing manic or threatening; nay, I wanted what they had. My bucket stood empty, and I lingered above with visions of my own release. Wishful thinking.
It kept coming. The visions and the intensity, this unbelievably wild surging. I couldn’t make it stop, nor control it in the least. I was in her hands.
As I sat back in acceptance, ready to go where she wished to take me, that’s when things came to the surface. Finally, I could throw up and get on with the show.
The purge was brief but substantial, but I instantly realized the intensity hadn’t lessened. No, this was worse. I had pushed myself farther in.
Oh well, I thought. As Howard always says, if you think you’re going to die – well, just die. We all come back.
I fell into my chair and slammed my eyes shut, ready and willing. That’s when the unexpected happened. I suppose it’s all unexpected to the outside view, but let me just explain that many of the visions one receives on Ayahuasca are clearly sourced from the ego or brain – not necessarily messages from the spirit world. Others, however, are as real as the screens you are staring through – tangible, concrete, and 100% True. What I’m about to share was most definitely the latter.
Just when I thought the shaking and visions and wild explosions were too much for me to bear, just when I resolved myself to losing complete and total control, he came to me. Jesus. He appeared before me, dark skin and hair, eyes smiling away, arms outstretched. My first thought – holy shit, it’s Jesus. Then I said to him, Oh my God, I’m so sorry for swearing. Then I had to apologize for using God’s name in vain. Shit, this wasn’t going well.
My brain couldn’t grasp this – not entirely. Jesus was HERE. Flesh and blood real. He existed. He still does. And he had decided to visit *me*.
That’s when I got suspicious. But rather than question my friend here, I just asked for a hug.
His arms stretched wider and I jumped on in. I was hugging Jesus – and it *rocked*. He squeezed good and tight and I nuzzled my face in his neck. He smelled like patchouli and sand. I could have cried I felt so happy.
But hold on now, I said to him, why are you here? You’ve got 6.5 billion people or so to take care of – what the heck are you doing hugging me?
He didn’t say a word – Jesus isn’t apparently the chatty type. Instead, he grabbed my hand and rubbed my fingers across one of his crucifixion wounds. It felt bumpy and warm, and I stroked it continuously, immediately attaching to the notion that there is such nobility in suffering. I understood. Everything I’ve been through in the past, everything I felt at that very moment – it wasn’t selfish. Not just for me. It was for the whole beautiful world. A little microcosm of his crucifixion. Suddenly, I felt unspeakably blessed.
And that’s when he disappeared.
I was spinning. How could I be so lucky? People purged and the room spun like a cotton candy machine and yet I sat in the center, smiling and stretching and asking for more.
Everything’s OK, I thought.
And the voice beyond – my angel, my spirit mother – she echoed in very loud tones – YES: everything is ALWAYS OK. That’s your gift tonight. Your knowledge. It’s always always OK.
And she baked me a cake, see – one that said Everything’s OK in pink frosting. I giggled and accepted. As I did, the party ensued; all these little creatures and animals appeared to party with me. A loud burst of latin music exploded, and we all started dancing to the Everything’s OK music. I was giddy, booty shaking, and blissful. My Jaguar Sacha – my spirit guide – even joined in, chucking her dignity and matching my silly outpours. Magic, friends. I have this forever.
Later on, as this incredible night progressed, I got to travel wherever I chose. I asked to visit the Seeker. It seemed strange to go through Ayahuasca journeys without him – he brought me here to begin with, after all.
So I entered his jungle home and saw him sitting at his laptop, working on his novel. I lingered to his left, and told him I forgave everything. That there was nothing to forgive. I sent him unconditional love, and expressed how thrilled I was that he had kicked is addictions and found his core.
He paused then, looking at me but straight through me – I knew he felt me.
I’m so proud of you, he said.
That’s his way of sending love. I knew that.
I kissed his cheek and said I had to go. Jesus was waiting.
Those were the highlights. There’s so much more, but I haven’t the words. It was my favorite ceremony out of my eight Ayahuasca experiences; so profound, the retelling sounds weak and lifeless. But I know two things now, unequivocally – the spiritual world is real, and nothing we do affects us alone. We are all cosmically connected, and the more we work on ourselves, the more we elevate every last soul.
That, and Jesus gives good hugs.
