PlantShaman's Enlightenment Blog

I am an Earth Medicine Apprentice, which means that one weekend a month from April through November, I will be sailing down to New Mexico for a wild adventure.  The time in between will be spent doing various tasks to connect me further to myself (hello, inner child), plants of all kinds, and the Earth itself.  That’s just the tip of the iceberg, really, and I am completely  naive as to what this will all mean, but if weekend #1 is any indication, shit is going down.  In a good way, of course.

As mentioned before, I found my latest Teacher in a most magnificent, unexpected chain of email-related events.  In a relative sense, she was not who I was looking for.  I had branched out to find someone to take me deeper into the sacred plant ceremonies, akin to the kind I took on with D2.  But when I landed on the description of the Earth Medicine Apprenticeship, I had a strong, strong inkling that it was Absolutely Perfect.  Beyond what I could possibly imagine.  And the voice that guided me to take it on was a familiar one – there was no doubt I had the support of Ayahuasca.

In the days that led up to the first weekend (I literally fell upon this opportunity 10 days before it officially began), I spent a lot of time communicating with Mother Aya.  She’s precious to me for countless reasons – the most prominent these days, aside from gifting me my truly awakened state, is that she’s a part of the relative world that I can easily connect to.  It used to be that I had an awareness of the invisibles on a very regular basis.  But when I took on the Jnana Yoga path last year, I allowed myself to dismantle my *beliefs* in these experiences, and instead dig deeper to find what was really true for me.  I found that in many, many cases, my “ghost sightings” and “psychic connections” were not what I thought they were at the time.  I began to fully own the knowledge that the whole wide world was a projection of my mind, and they was no such thing as an external element.  That said, we live in duality.  So as I’ve matured in this knowingness, I have also accepted that people and intuition and invisibles are just as real too.  Sound like a contradiction?  Well, it is.  Here’s how it breaks down for me:

Absolute Self, the one is is One with All, is the source through which “my” entire experience is created.  This is awareness itself, and is held only within.  In this sense, nothing outside of self exists.  Relative Self, however, lives and plays in this external, dualistic world.  To her / me, *everything* is real, and although I ceased honoring that for a spell, I’m back to embracing both.  The pendulum had to swing to both extremes before I could integrate this paradox.  And thanks to a recent lunch with Shakti-J, I know fully accept that both realities are true.

Yet even in my most extreme Absolute Self moments, I never could deny the very real existence of Ayahuasca and Huachuma.  They are plant consciousnesses that I have connected with so strongly, in such life-changing ways, no amount of mental insistence could push away their relative – and cosmic – realities.  For that, I am insanely grateful.  That kept me anchored in the half of Truth I wanted to reject outright.  Ayahuasca would allow no such thing.  I’ve communed with her twenty times now, and that’s just on a ceremonial level.  Biologically speaking, she’s a part of every cell now – and probably always was.  So when she leads me somewhere, and I feel her presence in the decision, I cannot walk away.  I know that it’s equivalent to God, pointing to the moon.

I’ve already mentioned what Day 1 of the apprenticeship brought me – more specifically, where I was on an intimate level as I attempted to process the enormity of my weekend.  There is a “rest of the story”. . .and it gets really beautiful.

So there I was, having spent a full day in a foreign scenario, pushing myself into the feeling spaces and meeting my latest journeying partners.  And yet, I felt a world away from the place I most wanted to be – at home in Vegas, bonding with my friend-family as they celebrated in grand style.  I hate to be left out of anything that sounds transforming, and I knew knew knew that night would be big for my favorite folks.  I was afraid, in an egoic sense, that I would somehow get left behind.  And yet, as I processed the fear and sadness around my absence, I also knew I belonged, in the highest sense, right where I was at.

As the night after Day 1 ticked on, a lightbulb went off that helped me understand how deep this pain went for me.  It felt very, very familiar, and I finally remembered why.  Back when I lived in LA, towards the end of my time there, I started spending a big chunk of each year in the Amazon, working with the plants.  And, of course, I missed out on a lot of bonding time with my LA friends (who also mean the world to me) during those excursions too.  The night I connected most to in those memory spaces was New Year’s Eve 2007.  I remembered lying in my jungle cabin, listening to the animal and insect noises, and the sound of my own sobs.  I watched the clock tick by and could tangibly see my friends – including Best Friend – living it up at an LA rave.  Dancing, just as we always had, with reckless joy and revelry – taking care of each other, falling deeper into the intimate spaces.  And there I was, going through a couple of nightmare ceremonies, confused as to why I felt called to do this bloody freak-fest work to begin with.  Yeah, it was a bit of a victim moment, but the confusion was so genuine.  I wanted to have it all, and yet the choice had already been made.

A very familiar place indeed.  In my New Mexico hotel room, I allowed these emotions to process, and cried openly as I tried to fall asleep.  I felt a sense of urgency around getting a get chunk of sleep that night, as I had an 8 hour apprenticeship session and a 10 hour drive on the agenda for the next day.  And although I’m a fantastic sleeper in almost any scenario, I seem to sabotage such things when I’m emotional and / or pressured to get ‘er done.  Outlook for slumber just did not look good.  Somehow, I found humor in this.

All night long, as I’d gently slip into sleep, lucid dreams would have their way with me.  They all felt very, very much like an Ayahuasca ceremony – the dreams were just like the visions she gifts me with.  Manic, light-filled, colorful, nightmarish, and more like an experience than a movie that passes before my eyes.  They all had the same theme, too – helping me to process that no matter how many beloveds I share this path with, it is still mine to face, all alone.  No one else can face my demons.  To illustrate this, one dream had me trying to contact Orion, via my cell phone.  The operating system on the phone appeared scrambled – everything on screen flowed like water, so when my fingers chased down the Text Message icon, it would constantly float to the other edge of the screen.  Finally, I was able to send him a message – I meant to send “PLEASE HELP ME.”  When I hit send, I could see that instead I sent “PLEASE KELP ME.”  To which he promptly responded “You want sushi?”  At least my subconscious has a a sense of humor.

And so went the evening.  I logged maybe a full 2 hours of sleep, achieved in tiny chunks, and the rest was restless, confusing, intense and emotional.  The beautiful part of all of this, however, was the presence of Observer.  The entire time, I kept a firm grip on the perspective of her, looking down with neutrality, even cracking a smile at the profundity of the goings-on.  I never bought fully into the story of my pain, only allowed it to transpire as it needed to.  This proved to me extremely gratifying – a both / and situation where I could be crazy sad, frightened, and tear-filled – but also surrendered, joyful and accepting.  I kept saying to myself “It is.  It is.”  And in that acceptance, so dissolved the resistance.

By morning, however, I was *beat*.  I sent a few forlorn but loving texts to Orion, and he gave me gushy support.  I was grateful, but didn’t really let it help me much.  Instead, as I prepared myself for the intense day, I demanded that Ayahuasca assist.  ”You got me into this bloody mess, Mother,” I told her, “please send in some help. I really can’t do it alone today.”  Then I let go of the request and left for my adventure.

Day 2 of the apprenticeship started out. . .magical.  I walked in the door and embraced Teacher, who had also had a rough night’s sleep.  We both acknowledged a lack of surprise in this, due to the work we had begun (again), and just had a shoulder shrug and a smile to offer.  One of the other apprentices had brought us a gift, however – she presented me with a piece of cherimoya.  This is fantastic, incredibly unique fruit – one I hadn’t had since the last time I was in the jungle.  Right away, I knew it was a gift from Ayahuasca.  I ate it with absolute bliss, and felt energized and taken care of.  Good start to the day.

We learned a ridiculous amount of incredible material throughout the day.  Most of it was spent in the wilderness near Teacher’s home, listening to her describe our tasks and lay the foundation for the incredible work we had already begun.  The most memorable bit of info I logged was about the heart.  Teacher is showing us how powerful the heart is, as an organ of perception, and as a center of intelligence.  She taught us that some 28% of the heart is actually made up of neurons that are just like those in the brain.  It felt real to me how powerful this area of my body really is, and how much I ignore her.  I could feel the electromagnetic field I generate absolutely radiating, and I felt so excited about what this might mean.

To illustrate just a monocrom of this power, we were invited to sit with two specific plants.  Through a somewhat involved five-step process that we had been honing all weekend, our purpose was to find out from each plant what its medicinal gifts actually were.  It seemed impossible to me that I could actually ascertain this info (although I fully held that it was possible for others), especially in my tired state, but I was certainly willing to try.

The first plant, Red Root, looked like a common bush, with tiny lavender colored flowers.  I sat with her for a long while, and couldn’t really ascertain any information.  All I knew is, being around her, I wanted to cry.  And did.  It was a cleansing cry, however – not really a sad feeling, just a “wash this clean” sensation.  Teacher allowed us each to share our impressions (which were in some ways eerily similar), and then confirmed our emotional responses.  Yes, Red Root helps cleanse emotional states, and often invokes those who work with her to cry.  Somehow, I had truly connected with her essence.  It was, also, the first time I have ever *felt* a plant’s consciousness, outside of a shamanistic ceremony.  I felt her energy, vitality, and aliveness in a way that had never been shown to me.  To say I was hooked on this process. . .

Next up, we went and sat with a Choya (or Cholla) cactus. I have a deep, deep love of cactus now (thank you Huachuma!), and this particular plant had been catching my eye all day, so I was very excited to get to know him better.  Right away, I was blown wide open by him – and truly mesmerized by the *entirely different* sensations I felt in his presence, in contrast to the Red Root. Choya made me feel vital, energized, HAPPY as all get out, and I found myself salivating a lot too.  After checking-in with Teacher, we were all once again validated.  Choya root, specifically, has dehydration medicine within.  To test this theory, we actually made some medicine in the field.  We asked a Choya if we could harvest a bit of him, got permission, and found a perfect piece.  We them ground up the root, dropped it in our water bottles – and I’ll be damned if I didn’t feel *FANTASTIC* as I consumed the root.  I felt hydrated and full of energy.  Another gift from Aya, no doubt.  Man, I was having a good day.

The apprenticeship ended, and I’ll admit – I had a bit of trepidation about the 10 hour drive, but felt surrendered that it had to be, I had work the next day, and it was worth the effort for all I had experienced during the weekend.  I jumped in my car to begin the journey, still aware that Ayahuasca had my back, and we’d make the trek together.  I checked my phone and found the most incredible offer from Orion.  He suggested that I drive home by way of Phoenix, a halfway point, and that he’d meet me at the Phoenix airport and drive me the rest of the way.  Oh my God, a miracle.  I only had to drive five hours, and the rest would be spent in the company of my Spiritual Partner.  That he would even think to do this, let alone make it happen. . .

I drove to Phoenix with a lot of happy, grateful tears.  Happy for the incredible gifts I have in life, and for allowing them to unfold – for holding myself worthy, despite my ego’s protests.  I loved my weekend – every beautiful and agonizing minute.  I loved sharing it all with Orion when I met him in Phoenix.  I love sharing *everything* with that man.  I loved that I trusted the process enough to stay surrendered, even when things got hairy.  And I love that I have six more of these adventures to look forward to.

Tags: Apprenticeships, Ayahuasca, Cactus, Cholla, Choya, Earth Medicine, Heart, Red Root