Serpent heads carved at Chavin’s Temple of the Jaguar - representative of the underworld, the Amazon, and Ayahuasca
We took a moment to gather our belongings there at the river’s edge, completely sucked into the Huachuma vortex. This was my fourth dose, and yet, it was like I had never been inside the portal before; it was so bloody strong, so absolutely consuming — I relinquished any semblance of control and just surrendered.
Howard had us jump around a bit, bringing life to our limbs.
My body felt foreign. A house I had only lived in for a microsecond, compared to the age of my spirit. I gave her a grateful squeeze all the same.
We walked up towards the temple, just a few minutes away. As it came into view, I had to look away. Too much to take in. Beauty, energy, history – so goddamn profound.
How is it that I was selected to come here? How did I become so incredibly blessed?
She echoed back an answer – because it’s home.
For all of us, I assure you – this is home.
Being there, it was a spiritual homecoming. Walking into the central area of the Temple, I connected with every being who had ever been there before – over 3,000 years worth of brethren. I was probably amongst the past visitors. It didn’t matter either way – I was here now. And here – was everything.
Howard meandered out into the center of the Temple’s square, puffing Mapacho smoke in each direction as an offering and announcement of our arrival. I saw him in his traditional clothing, and he wasn’t Howard anymore – he was an ancient, a Shaman; someone closer to God than I had ever known. I watched with a vibrant smile, giving thanks again. Perpetually.
Meanwhile, the beautiful surroundings began to dance for us. All the nooks/crannies/portals in the Temple started to beckon and seethe. As I scanned the horizon, I saw so much life. So many amazing, shining examples of why this world could be utopia. And is, if we just see it as such.
We walked up to a structure on the other side of the Temple; something Howard called The Cosmic Telephone. It’s a large rock, just slightly elevated off the ground, and inside the rock are 7 bowl shaped crevasses. In the Chavin days, they would fill these bowls with water, and they directly matched up with star patterns in the sky. It was a way to communicate with their spiritual ancestors, and with the Paladeas, and other far away life forms.
I wanted to dial my own past, knowing I wasn’t from here, that the first home was somewhere so far away … I teared up as I stared at the roof hanging over the sacred rock, preventing us from communicating.
And why, I wondered. Because we no longer believe. We don’t want to – it’s too profound and too vast and too tough to get our brains around.
Fuck our brains, I thought. They’re the reason we’re so isolated, begging for our separateness. Egos don’t love company. And because of this, we’ve lost our true connections. We’ve lost the bloody truth.
Then it occurred to me – of course, it wasn’t lost. We were finding these truths now. I was infused with my duty — something communicated countless times before — to tell this tale. To remind my people who we are, where we came from — and most importantly, what we’re capable of. It’s infinite. And it doesn’t have to involve wars and murder and darkness. We just keep choosing that path.
I sank into the grass and buried my face into the blades. The other travelers floated around the cosmic formation, talking in short staccatto bursts. We were trying so hard to understand. But when we stopped trying, all the answers came.
I sat up to glance upwards, to my sky-home, and saw the sun lingering just beyond the mountain tops. She was slipping away from us, and my heart surged at the thought of having the stars instead. Yes, I know she is a star, but she’s so freaking bright. I needed to be soothed. I craved the warmth a lack of light could bring.
Howard motioned for our ascension, and then I remembered — the labrynths were waiting. A maze of underground caverns, sealed up for maximum scensory deprivation, and built for one purpose: so that people could ascend. Back to where I longed to be. And no doubt beautifully dark.
I kissed the ground, blew a kiss to the sky, and rose to follow my destiny.
