Michael, my companion for trip 2, dancing with the Bora
Hi again.
I’m breathing now – a little heave/ho that says I am a Body these days, not just a meandering bundle of air and technocolor visions.
I’d say that’s a good thing.
I made a friend in that there jungle – one of my favorites (if not The) of the 19 person crew (and I’m not just sayin’ that cuz he might be reading this, no sir), and it seems we’re on a similar serendipity simmer. I am dreaming of my back tapestry tattoo, all full of Amazonian goodness, and his latest ink is in motion too. That’s further evidence that I am – we are – real. Trust me, I needed that.
Still breathing. Whee, this is fun.
So the latest trip into the earth’s womb had a different agenda for me. The first trip was all about an awakening – I found my spiritual core (she’s rock solid and really likes to talk. Shocking.)
This time, I found a few answers to my past, my identity, and the future of the whole bloody world. Profound doesn’t even cut it – some of the things I will spill in future musings will startle me, to see in print – so permanent. So blinding.
You might think I’m crazy.
Eh, you might even be right.
But it’s real. Just as much as this breath I am floating in.
You don’t have to trust me, though. You can go have a cup yourself.
The first Ceremony is normally a gentle intro or re-intro. About half of the 19 journeyers that landed in Howard’s brand new jungle retreat were new to Mother Ayahuasca, and the rest of us Knew. At least a smidgen, some volumes.
The structure itself was brand new, however – just down the river from the old haunt. I loved the first, I love the latest. Built from the ground up with the sole purpose of ascending the consciousness of humanity through Ayahuasca ceremonies. Plus, this time it featured electricity and hot water. Well, sometimes.
There we were, the very first rabbit hole hoppers to sit in that glorious maloka, toe to toe with Captain Howard and the greatest Shaman in the world. The rituals set in motion and oh my, I found my bliss. Before my lips hit the cup.
This is home.
Yes, Ayahuasca still tastes like ass, but so be it. Balance, and nothing but.
I don’t have too much to say about night one, at least in the way of visions – mild, warm, embracing; she was saying Hello Again, proud to see me taking on this wild journey again. I had a small but substantial purge in the beginning (we all have our Very Own Buckets), and mostly, I just rocked myself into the sub-conscious, and was allowed to prepare for the tasks at hand. It was beauty. Gentle and more real than I am.
Night two, well, not so much.
But we’ll get there.
Today is solid. Today is a gift. I am off to see Children of Men soon, wondering why they’re not Children of Women too, but I believe I’ll soon have my answer.
We all have them, in our hearts. Every last one.
Soon, soon.
Plus, tattoos.
