Reflections on Huachuma, July 6th

(written following my day with San Pedro)

Kody is now staying at Paz y Luz, and we met up a bit after 8am to walk to Diego´s. The others planning to partake of Huachuma were outside chatting, and we joined them. Linden was there, too, and getting ready to leave. The six of us waited for Diego, and a little after 9am, he and Milagros came outside. I asked if it was okay if I joined, and it was fine. We all gathered around beside the temple, sitting on tree-stump benches, sitting around a tree-stump table, beneath the canopy of eucalyptus trees. Diego told us a few things about what to expect of the experience. It could go on for many hours, but ours would be around 8 or so. Early in the experience, we could eat some fruits, but not bananas, though. Too grounding. Any other food early on would make us vomit. Otherwise, purging was unlikely. We might feel inclined to walk after awhile, but we shouldn´t go too far, and especially not to the center of town. People who were not with the medicine might look like ghosts. It would be possible to have conversations and move around normally, but in general, we were asked to enjoy the gardens and stay close to Melissa Wasi. The medicine would take about an hour to take effect, and it would come in gentle waves, but could go on for a long time without food. So, at around 5pm or so, Milagros would make us some simple food to bring us out of the experience.

Feeling informed as much as possible, it was time to drink the medicine. We were asked how many spoons of the pale green powder: two for a mild experience, three for a strong one, and four for a very strong one. The powder, made by Diego, was mixed with water, and would need to be stirred again just before drinking since it would settle quickly. Almost as an afterthought, Diego added that the taste was, well...it made Ayahuasca taste delicious by comparison. We went around one by one. Setting silent intentions, making a prayer. I chose three spoons, feelins certain, and sure that this experience was deeply right. The taste wasn´t too bitter, not so bad at all.

Since none of us had really eaten, Diego took his motorcycle into town to buy fruit for us to eat throughout the day. We all talked for awhile, then, one by one, we drifted away to find spots alone in the gardens.

I chose my initial spot under the trees, facing toward the mountains. A line of tall plants with bright blue flowers stood in front of me, and I leaned back against the tree. Waiting. I could feel the medicine come into me, but it was gentle, just as I had been told it would be. The bright blues and greens became brighter, more vivid. I tried to focus on these sacred mountains, but my attention was drawn down to the ground. I thought of Linda Hogan, writing about sky people and earth people, and realized that my own perspective was being drawn toward the latter. Down to the small world went my attention.

I sat with my back against the tree for awhile. Then, I spread my sarong to recline on the ground. The sun was warm, and the effect of the medicine was slow to come. I was face up for awhile, feeling sleepy and comfortable, and eventually rolled over to my belly. Then, a new world became visible to me. My first companion was a black fly. Not the usual type, but one whose winds were shaped like a kite, with velvety soft parts, dense black, and then a fringe of gossamer, translucent shimmering light. He landed, then flew, then landed, then flew. He came closer, then went farther, landing on the fragile stems of grass. When he moved, he was light and fast. When he was still, he was utterly still. I begged for him to come over, to be with me, but he never did. My attention was then drawn by the sound of a large hummingbird about ten feet up. He, too, darted from side to side in the air, not going to any flowers, just hovering, whirring. I watched in wonder. I began to realize that the medicine was with me, and that this was its nature.

Diego told us that Huachuma is the Grandfather spirit medicine, where Ayahuasca is the Grandmother. That He would sit with us and show us connection with Nature. That process unfolded beautifully.

I stood up, made my way to the bathroom. I felt like I might have diarrhea, but no problems. The room, though, felt small and claustrophobic. I got out as quickly as possible. I made my way to a round hill in the front yard, next to Jascha I sat for some time. I had already removed by shoes and socks. On the hill, I shed my long sleeve shirt and rolled up my jeans. The sun was warm, and I baked. We sat silently like cats. I noticed a pool of water standing in the grass, in a patch of clover. I considered going to it but couldn´t move. I stretched. Jascha left. After some time, I went to the pool, slowly walked into it, and it was delicious! The water was slightly cool, and the clover was silky soft. Amazing! Tanja walked by, and we grinned at each other. She wandere away, and I went to the small wooden bridge over the small stream. I lay back for a moment, then yearned to put my feet in...the water was frigid and wonderful! I trailed my feet in and out, and when they were too cold, I put myself back on the bridge to warm again.

I eventually slid over to the steep bank of the stream, belly down in the grass. It was soft and lush. I watched this small, delightful world in its process. Tall grasses trailed in the gentle current, some carrying brown algae. Bubbles of air, silvery, lined the mossy rocks on the sides just below the water´s surface. The colors in the water, browns and greens, and the reflections of the sky. Insects came to satisfy their thirst, to rest. And it hit me, this is so simple, the way to live my life. These creatures, bees and flies, don´t care a bit about each other´s comings and goings, there is no drama, no worries, no judgement. Just being, doing what is natural. Mmm... then Diego walked by very slowly and leaned down, mandarin? he asked. I took the half fruit from him and thanked him. He walked on and I looked at the mandarin pieces. Tears came into my eyes as I was taken by the beauty of the fruit. Mother Earth is so good to us, not only providing for our hunger, but in such a beautiful perfection! I let the tears flow, placing one wedge into my mouth, taking it in with deep gratitude. I cried silently, overwhelmed. The tears left as easily as they came, and I dried my eyes. Tanja walked by, and I offered her half of my half, and she accepted it, walking away.

I stayed with the stream for awhile longer, eventually needing to use the toilet again. When I went inside the bathroom, it felt as if I was entering a two-dimensional world, flat and too confined for my state of being, connected to the whole of nature. When I left, I went to our fruit table, and shared other fruits with the others who were there. So amazingly good! After a few minutes, I left, not wanting to speak. I took my bottle of water and my journal to the back yard gardens.

My intention for this experience was twofold, yet simple: to learn to listen more deeply and to remember the place I had experienced during my previous Ayahuasca journey. As the day unfolded, the first, listening, became primary.

Walking back to the gardens was a sensory delight! The varieties of grass and earth were amazing, and my feet loved the ground. Some dry, some wet, all soft and inviting. I went first to a place in the sun and sat in the grass. It took a moment to realize that the grass was wet, having been recently watered. My jeans were quickly wet, too, but I didn´t care! Dirty feet, wet pants, who cares! I sat, breathed, and heard the most spectacular thing: the earth drinking! All around me, the land was absorbing water, hungrily taking it all in! Amazing!

The sun got to me, and I moved to what would be my final resting place for the day. In the dappled shade of a young pine, surrounded by a garden of sage in bloom with purple flowers. Near the red house, the herb garden with rosemary, near the daisies and in the lush, green grass. I reclined there, following the waves of insight and splendor until it was time for food.

The small world of the grass opened up to me. The tiny insects, the tiny flowers, the intricate patterns in the grass, a lacy underworld of the most decadent beauty, so many details, all perfect. Again, I wept as I felt the honor of being invited into this place. The tiny spiral burrs have such beautiful details, and their flowers are tiny and yellow. The fallen flowers from the sage were fuzzy, a mixed palette of pink, white, and purple. I realized there were many, and began making a tiny cairn-altar, stacking one tiny petal on top of the other. Several times I tried, yet after four flowers it would collapse each time.

I continued to hear the earth drinking and drying, the bees taking the nectar from the sage flowers, and an onslaught of insights came to me: about right relationship, feminine-masculine energy balance, the rhythm of nature, day and night, being vs. doing, language, and the role of humans in this world. It came so fast, so much. I wrote for hours, trying to catch this incredible gift of understanding that felt like not only all the answers for how to live, but it felt like the greatest secrets in the universe were being revealed to me. I went back and forth between furiously writing and returning to the small world that was my new home. The shadow shifted, and I shifted with it, trying to keep from being too sunburned.

The day began cold, became so wonderfully warm, and began to return to cold. The others came and went; sometimes we exchanged a word or two, other times only glances. We were all in a place of deep silence and receptivity, enrapt in joy and learning: true communion. To others we surely looked like a pack of lazy togs, but to me, it felt like the most wonderful way of BEING in the world. I asked myself over and over, why have I never done this before?! This was the most valuable way of spending a day, ever, ever in my whole life. Silent, no-thinking, in my body completely. No fear at all. I have never felt more comfortable in my own skin nor in any place in the world. I was whole and embraced. It was a day in the grace of creation.

Eventually, Diego came out and told us that it was time to eat. I didn´t care about eating, and had only taken the fruit others gave me during the day, not seeking it out for myself. I took a few photos of my place, where I had spent the afternoon in deep contemplation, hoping to be able to go back to that place through these images. Then, I joined the others for food. Going into the house was absurd...such a strange, unfamiliar space. I couldn´t understand it. But the food was good, and I took it in slowly. A wonderful veggie dish - potatoes in a sauce with rice. We ate mostly in silence. Lemonade, bread, cheese, nuts, raisins. Their sun was a ball of joy, laughing, playing, so much energy! He took turns playing with us all, wrestling, squealing, jumping, bread-stealing, and he eventually ran away with both my blue scarf and my camera! It was fun, to come back into ordinary reality by playing with one who lives in the state of mind that we drank bitter cactus in order to share for one day!

The medicine took its time leaving my body, all of us felt it for many more hours. We sat out under the trees as the light of day faded away, adding layers of clothing as the coolness settled in. We shared a bowl of fruit. Eventually Melissa and I walked into town to meet Kody, who had gone in before us. We wanted to take some more food to ground us further. Pizza at Ulrike´s. And sharing about our lives. I love all of these people so much. My heart has opened to them, to hear them, to receive them. I don´t feel concerned at all about the way I´m perceived. I feel easy, comfortable, without worries. I am indeed getting help and practice with learning to be with others in open, honest relationship, and I´m grateful!