The adorable decor of our hotel room in Tucume, at the base of Fire Mountain

To assist, I plopped down in the lotus position right at the end of the mountain’s trail. I asked the universe to make me a beacon, and to start guiding the pilgrims to me. It was selfish, I knew it at the time – I missed my other companions. I wanted Z back. I worried.

The Voice came back once again.

- Trust their processes as you have trusted yours.

- Can I still be a beacon?

I could almost feel the Universe smile.

- Of course. That’s your job.

Within a few seconds, I saw V’s blue windbreaker making her way towards me, and I was elated. So was she. She ran to me and we embraced.

- I saw you in a cloud, Kitty. I saw you flying. You were so soft and beautiful. Do you know how beautiful you are?

I cried and clung to her.

- Oh, stop – it doesn’t matter. We are only mirrors.

She looked at me with complete incredulousness.

- I guess I see others beauty, but never my own?

I nodded and buried myself in her eyes.

More of our friends started meandering down – one by one. I greeted them – sometimes with words, sometimes with embraces, and sometimes silently. But oh my God, I was so happy. I kept thanking the Moon; she told me we were good partners. You need only ask for the elements to help, and they’re there. Just ask. I felt utterly awestruck.

Z was one of the last to meander down, and my heart leapt at the sight of him. I knew he was the group’s guardian, making sure the back of the pack was always accounted for. And me, I was the trailblazer, wanting to be a beacon. I found such poetry in our union.

We walked back to our homestead in reverence, every step digging our lessons in deeper. I pondered the things I learned about myself. I had such drive, such willingness to do what I had to. But there was still ego in the efforts, and that’s what I had to shed. The ego was the one that was fearful. She’s still finding her way down.

Back at our humble abode, we all b-lined for the Mesa. The jaguar skull was moving, its teeth-gritting as it broke into wider and wider smiles. The other objects danced for us, and we felt sucked into this infinite vortex with every breath.

There wasn’t a lot of words, only awe. B, one of the males of the crew, fell to the ground in homage, rubbing his hands deep into the soil. Others of us just stared, seeing different tapestries; hearing different truths.

There were hundreds of mosquitos – massive suckers that suddenly jolted me back to this realm. I excused myself and trekked back to my room, getting warmer clothes and stopping at the bano. I saw myself in the mirror, and I paused to take a moment.

- Your flaws are your beauty.

I said this to myself, as if it weren’t myself. And the real magic here – I believed it.

As I returned to the group outside, we all began to assemble at a nearby fire pit. Our attendant had started a magnificent bonfire, and we huddled around for a variety of reasons – warmth, to escape the mosquitos, and to soak in this magnificent energy. It felt like the mountain had – seething, powerful, and loaded with infinite possibilities. We burned Palo Santo, a cleansing incense, and started to come back into ourselves. We took turn tending the fire, as if our roles had previously been outlined, and I felt the unity of our bonds ignited with our mutual individualities. Unity, and singularity. In perfect harmony.

At last, as the night dwindled, we wandered to the charming dining area and readied ourselves for a bookend – a huge, steaming bowl of the yummiest soup we’d ever tasted. Our darling waitress rushed out to give us the food, and we fumbled over chairs and words, laughing and finding our consciousness once more. The soup flew down my belly and created more fire, more gratitude.

Conversations sparked. DR talked about the holy grail – finding one’s heart. Howard talked about our future Mesas, and the cosmic importance of our work. But I sat silent, soaking it all in, sometimes hearing but always listening. My body felt foreign but comforting, and I fixated on my hands periodically, thanking them for their knowledge and creativity. I thanked my legs for carrying me through this and every day. I thank the Universe for this incredible experience.

As my brain started to fire in a more familiar way, it was finally time to go back to the room. Z and I shuffled back, grinning and shaking our heads – unsure of how to speak of this. I felt a bit of panic as I considered how I would write about my journey, but that voice kicked in again, just as I prepared for my pre-sleep shower.

- Trust the process, dear. Don’t forget — you’re a beacon. You’ll not only find a way, you are the way.

We slept like children, and awoke as warriors.

The Shaman’s Market in Chiclayo, Peru

The experience administered in the jungle is called The Serpent Mesa, because the spirit of the rainforest is embodied in a serpent. It represents the underworld; the place where everything begins. A perfect location to start your ascension.

My experience was magical – I mean, unbelievably so. I had dabbled in other mind-altering substances before, but nothing can hold a candle to Huachuma. He’s a medicine, not a drug. I know understand this difference. His power, benevolence, and spiritual connectedness is unmatched. It’s a slow come-on, unlike Ayahuasca, and the trip up is just as electrifying and awe-inspiring as the trip down. I loved my Amazon Huachuma introduction, and yet, I had just begun to know the power of this brew.

Eleven of us boarded a flight from Lima to Chiclayo at the beginning of the Journey, right on the heels of the latest jungle excursion. We hopped a charted bus ride in Chiclayo to a place called Tucume; it’s a somewhat isolated, rundown, and completely beautiful Peruvian town. There’s a haven there called Los Hortones that feels like it’s the center of the world – our little hotel home for the next three days. It sits in the shadow of Fire Mountain, one of Peru’s sacred Huaca sites. You can feel the energy seething down the mountain without even casting her a glance.

Z and I found our room to be oh-so-Spanish charming. We settled in, had a deep and beautiful conversation, then got some sleep … in preparation.

I thought I knew what to expect, yet, I might as well have been a Huachuma virgin.

We assembled beneath a large tree on our little haven’s yard, and Howard put together the mesa. He placed all the sacred objects on the trio of blankets, telling us what kind of power each one carried. Chairs are situated around the mesa in a semi-circle; men on the right side (the life-taking force) and women on the left (the life-giving force.) This work is all about duality, and the convergence of energies. We all have masculine and feminine forces swimming inside, but the external gender simply represents our face to the world. This structure provides the perfect balance for the beginning of our ritual, and helps hold the symbolism throughout.

Since I knew the drill, I grabbed the first seat on the left. I wanted to be first. I wanted my cup, and I hoped it would be full. I had been waiting for this moment for … well, at least a year. Maybe a few lifetimes.

When it’s your turn to approach the mesa and take your drink, Howard makes a hardcore eyelock with you, says something amazing and profound, and pours your cup of medicine; whatever he feels you need. When he hit my gaze first I felt my body shudder. My mind through out a protest -

- What ARE you doing?
To which my heart calmly answered
- Hush up now, you’re not in charge anymore.

Howard stared me down and smiled, saying simply – “Oh yeah, you’re ready.”

I sat before the mesa, balanced on my knees, and noticed that Fire Mountain was our backdrop. We were headed there, I knew as much, but I felt fear about death and my own physical abilities starting to well up. To quiet the shaking, I closed my eyes and sucked in a few deep breaths. Howard shook his tiny rattles behind me, puffing sacred tobacco around my head. I scooped up the brimming cup, and finally drank the brew.

And so it began.

Once everyone followed suit, we went back to our rooms, gathered our day packs, and started trekking to our mountain. As we approached the base, the medicine was drawing me in. I knew in an instant this would be the most intense experience of my life so far.

At the base, a small and modest museum awaited. We looked at the tiny exhibits, dwelling longest at a recreation of the Mesa work. I looked at the small, off-scale Huachumero, administering the medicine to his sick companions. I saw myself in those stone figures. I had come here for healing. My eyes welled up and I wandered outside, anxious to start our climb.

We all meandered to the base of the mountain, and settled in for some deep meditation. By now, the Huachuma was hitting full throttle. I stopped noticing my shaking, my hot/cold/hot temperature shifts, and the voices in my head. Instead, I found a crevice in the center a large rock formation, and I asked for a hug.

I fell into the rocky walls and experienced my first time travel. I saw myself sitting on this very spot, hundreds of years ago, eating shellfish and dancing around a campfire. As I opened my eyes, I spotted a tiny clam shell at my feet. I smiled, wondering where it could have come from – we were miles from the shore.

The rocks felt soft and comforting. We took in the slowly setting sun, the incredibly gorgeous surroundings, and that bloody mountain; all fiery, rigid, and electric.

Finally, we all came to and moved on; slowly, in little pockets, but with a fierce determination.

I kept bolting ahead, and getting off the path. My voice kept telling me I didn’t need anyone to show me the way; I could find it myself, instinctually. I got lost twice in the beginning. So I clearly needed more work.

Z found me once, calling that I had gone the wrong way.

- I’m following the signs to purgatory.

There were actual signs. I think.

- Well, you’re going the wrong way, he told me.

- That’s a judgment. It’s just your perspective.

But I sheepishly followed suit and bolted back ahead when I got the chance.

We found the pre-made path up the mountain and started up. I walked alone, passing a few other climbers, on their way down. I had already been crying, without really understanding the reason, so I tried to keep my face a bit hidden. There were dozens of stairs, and my legs started to shake.

Gotta keep going, I thought. I have a mountain to climb.
It was like a microcosm for me – representative of the mountains I have to climb in the other world, helping to bring back the consciousness of the masses. Helping them to remember to protect this earth with their lives.
I was willing to give mine in order to hear Fire Mountain’s lessons. I knew she’d give it back.

After a spell, I reached a lookout point. It was situated about halfway up the mountain, and it had a grand view of the lush, beautiful valley. But there was way more mountain to climb. I couldn’t stop yet, and it wasn’t getting any smaller. I turned my head to gauge a path and saw radiant N, another of our crew, bolting up the rocks. Well then, that’s my way.

It was a bit treachorous, and my mind had a field day.
- You’re going to have to climb down this at some point.
I ignored her.
- You’ve lost your crowd. You’re in trouble.
Nope, don’t care – still climbing.
- You’re not strong enough to do this.
Poppycock. I’m doing it.
- There are vultures above. That’s a bad sign.
I looked up to confirm. But they looked beautiful to me – all kinds of majesty.

A few steps from the top, I found my perch. I had come across another Journeyer, my beloved L, and we had encouraged each other these last steps, forging ahead when the other lagged and sharing our energies. She pushed on a bit farther, but I was suddenly unbelievably struck by the sun. Oh my god, she just exploded with light and love. I surveyed the amazing view and just … felt.

Z came along eventually and we shared an awesome moment together. We took pictures of each other and sat in harmonious silence.

Then I heard the wind shift. From way down below, a whisper echoed to me -
- It’s time, girl. Blaze a trail down this mountain. Be the feline you know you are.

I told Z I had to go, and started my way down. It was so freaking hard compared to the push upwards. I fell a few times on steep rock inclines, and suddenly, I found myself completely lost. I kept looking at the possible paths, and they would occasionally look small, large, far, near – all kinds of shifts. The sun was disappearing too, but thank goodness for the near-full moon; I would still be up there if it weren’t for her love. I forgot which direction I was supposed to be traveling. I couldn’t see or hear any of my crew

I was fucking lost on Fire Mountain.

But I remember another woman’s tale of this place, in a blog here on MySpace. She had gotten lost and asked for help. Maybe I had that power too.

My heart absolutely seethed, and the next few steps I took sent me into hysterics. No one was helping. I found a little cave, and decided to ask for another rock hug, and maybe a few directions. That’s when The Voice kicked in.

- Think about this. Think about who you are in your heart. You don’t need anyone else to tell you where to go, love. You know. Just follow your instincts and go.

I closed my eyes, turned in a circle, and stopped when I Knew. Then I started heading in that direction, no longer panicked that I couldn’t see much. The rocks weren’t getting smaller, but I had to keep going. I had to trust this.

I kept walking for sometime, and felt another surge of anxiety. I stopped beneath a large rock hanging to regroup once again; to find my faith. As I fought back the fearful internal protests, I looked up to see Howard. He wasn’t facing me; he was watching for my other companions to find their way down. But he was validation.

- Oh my God, I thought. I did it. The rocks are leading the way.

From there, I turned into a mountain lion and flew down the mountain. I barely remember the rest of the descent; I only know it was effortless. When I hit the bottom, I felt Brand New. I looked up to find myself still sitting at the top, a distant shadow. I knew I had left the doubtful parts of me on that mountain – the girl who wanted to stay safe and live in fear. She died. She isn’t in here any more.

I spotted DR, one of my favorites and a repeat visitor here, and he dove in for a big hug.

- That felt so good, I told him through dirty tears.
- You’re changed forever, girl, he said to me.

Well then, mission accomplished.

There’s more to this story, but I’ll share part 2 in the next release …