Huachuma Ceremony with Javier, July 22nd

(pre-ceremony)

I’ve been wondering what my intention would be fore my next ceremony, since after the last two ceremonies I feel that I have released a lot of dark stuff, the darkest stuff I’ve got. And just a bit ago, it came to me when I was talking with Carlos about moodiness. I instantly thought that I haven’t yet accepted my own true nature, or my personality. I have come into awareness and love of the best parts of me, but am still trying to change the parts that don't fit my ideal of what I want to be. And my lack of acceptance of my own nature leads to my refusal to accept and understand the natures of others, especially the prickly, annoying parts. So, it seems that my intention has now emerged!

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After I finished writing this morning, my whole day plummeted. Migraine for four hours, then the early symptoms of a cold - some sinus and chest congestion, and lack of energy. A totally exhausting day, but also a day of going slow. Tomorrow, San Pedro ceremony.
Now, I want very much to do this ceremony, but I don’t want a repeat of my last ayahuasca ceremony with Diego. So, even though Javier said this ceremony should be fine for me with the symptoms I told him, I give myself total permission to stay home if that seems more in alignment with my body’s needs. That said, though, I have been given so much good, natural medicine to boost my healing, I have faith that with a good night’s rest, I will be good to go in the morning.

My intention for my ceremony tomorrow is to accept myself exactly as I am. And that includes irritating colds. This little bout of respiratory stuff is a perfect example, a perfect opportunity to practice complete acceptance. Instead of struggling against this - or anything - I can just accept what comes. And this is not only true with my health, but with everything that happens in life. Other people and their ways and problems, things that occur in the world. And in my own life. Total surrender. Conscious surrender. Not merely giving up or giving in, but accepting all things as they come, and working to make my contribution.

I have been so attached to changing things: myself, my life, other people, the world. And releasing and helping are indeed very important. But control for my own sake need have no part. Only loving myself and others, and allowing that to bring transformation as it comes. But to completely accept myself and everyone exactly as we are in each moment? That would grown passion into compassion naturally. It all is rooted in deep love. So that is my intention for tomorrow’s ceremony: to learn total acceptance and total love.

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(reflections)

Wow, in yesterday’s ceremony, I’m pretty sure that I hit the mother lode of dark, poisonous stuff in my life. All the poison stored from self-loathing and hatred, all the poison that has come from a life of living without total acceptance and love. When I set my intentions, I had no idea what I was getting myself into, no idea how deep and dark this well of discovery would run. And it was so very deep and dark that I really didn’t know if I could survive it. Yesterday, beyond any doubt, was the hardest day, full of more misery and suffering than any other day in my life. Where is this “gentle medicine” that I have heard about, the one that gave me what I felt the be “the best day of my life?”

I awoke yesterday with a full-blown cold, with plenty of chest congestion. I felt okay enough, though, to go on to Tipon. We met up at 730am, and our three taxis set off. I rode with Javier and Daniel. On the way we chatted, and Javier asked about my intention. To learn to be content with everything exactly as it is, both with myself and with others, and the whole world. Also, at one point during the ride, Javier asked me if I could draw or paint, and I replied, not well. He said that it might be worth trying, to capture the image of my body being filled with so many beautiful things. Maybe I will try!

Our group was large - eleven. Our time came to drink the medicine, and Javier determined that I needed a little less...but when he doled out three well-sized teaspoons plus the dust of one jar, I hardly felt like I had less than last week. I drank it down, bitter and gritty.
Many of the others began to stretch out in the sun. Javier sang medicine songs, and I awaited the Huachuma. After a short while, Javier took me by the hand to the spot I had occupied last week, and encouraged me in my intentions, telling me to feel into my resistances. I nodded in agreement, and he left me. I sprawled out in the grass to take in the sun, and to watch other people, to wait for the Huachuma to come into me.

I felt little for a long time. Javier came to ask me if I had had enough medicine, and I told him I thought so. I began to let my mind wander into my intentions. I thought about contentment and my barriers to it. Behind me, the sound of machetes hacking back the wild vegetation began to seem very loud. It felt like every whack of the blade was slicing into me. I thought about change, and the ways that I have embraced it. Not embraced, necessarily, in the sense that I relax into the flow of it, but instead as a clever trick of the ego. If I bring on the change first, forcefully, deliberately, then perhaps I’m outsmarting the law of change itself. How very clever! I began to think exactly that, “how very clever you are!” The thought came with great darkness, anger, sarcasm. I began to see just how much this whole intention was rooted in the creation of an identity, one that served the “me” I wanted to be in an ideal world. And I thought of all this seeking, these spiritual journeys, they have all been a part of that forced change. To create the ideal version of myself, to defeat or destroy the parts of myself that don’t fit that ideal, and to build up the parts that do. My whole purpose was to create the ideal Angela. How very clever! Again the words filled my mind.

The hacking of the machetes grew louder. I began to realize that in this forced change, that I was doing the same to myself: hacking away at the parts of myself to discard them, making my whole self grow according to this violent self-pruning...and at that point, great sadness filled me. I realized that I’d been hacking myself to bits without having any idea what would grow there to start with...I had no idea what my natural state of being was, who I was, because I’d never let that emerge. From there, the descent into the depths of despair, misery, and madness began.

I sat up, and nausea overtook me. I began to puke, much the same as last time. But the nausea didn’t release after puking. It continued to mount, and I heaved until I was gagging out nothing but foam. I felt so awful and looked around for help. Javier was far below with Ashera, and Carolynne had wandered up into the mountains. I felt desperate, out of control. I psychically begged for help, for one of them to return. Eventually I saw Javier coming back. He came to me. His words were about how who I am is more powerful and more beautiful than all of this suffering. From here, the day spun ever and ever more down. My insights are based in reflection, for my ability to reflect in the moment crashed completely.

My body shook, and I felt that I was entering a state of crisis. Sounds were loud beyond any reasonable proportion, and the waves of intense nausea hurtled me into a state of panic. I have lost track of most of what was happening. I know that I have never felt more misery or wanted to die more than this. At one point, Javier had me move into the shade and tried to help - he sang medicine songs and had me inhale the Agua de Florida, as well as blowing tobacco smoke on me. He encouraged me to stay present, and I did the best I could. But then I leaned over and puked even more, heaving and moaning and crying out. He eventually moved me back into the sun, but I couldn’t make it very far before I collapsed onto the ground. The rest of the afternoon was spent there, sometimes alone and other times with the help of Carolynne and Javier. They were kind and caring and loving.

I felt alternatively mad and ill. When the nausea came, I puked my guts out. When the nausea would subside a bit, I’d feel insane. The thought came several times to just end it all, to jump over the edge of the terrace. I felt crazy, and I could tell that I had a crazy look in my eyes. I alternatively crashed out in the grass, and tore tufts of it up in my hysteria. I pretty much felt like I’d given up everything, my whole sense of self, my whole will to live. Total surrender, total loss of pride and control. I told Javier at one point that I wanted to die, kill me now, that he could push me over the edge and no one would ever know. And he held me and told me that a lot of people would miss me. He was so good, and strong, he held the space so well. For that, I’m eternally grateful...to imagine that last week I couldn’t trust him, this really put the whole trust issue into practice.

I would try to recline in the grass and rest, but the nausea would grow, and force me upright again; I would purge up what I could, then crawl a little further away to collapse again. I felt that my whole insides had turned to poison, and every breath tasted bitter. I felt that everything inside of me was begging to be purged out. My strength was giving out, yet I wept and moaned and puked. The temperature began to cool, yet there was no end in sight. I begged for the experience to end, and Javier told me that it was nearly over, but that I needed to be strong for awhile longer. Soon after that, Carolynne told me to talk to the medicine, to thank it, but ask it for no more. I managed to say that, and felt miserable for awhile longer. Everyone began to pack up to move locations to stay in the sun. I purged again, the water and tea that I had taken. I managed to put on my socks and shoes, trembling from the cold, as well as from my own inner turmoil. We began to walk, and Javier held my right arm while Carolynne held my left. Once, twice I felt my nausea grow, and stopped to bend over...nothing. The third time, near the large rock on the center of the terrace, I felt it come. I fell to the ground by the rock, heaving like no other heaving I’ve ever known before. Carolynne took my bag. On all fours, I puked until a strange color - a greenish-yellow, fluorescent - came out of me...I could barely even breathe for the purging. But when it was done, I knew it was done. Javier and Carolynne sat with me until I was stable, and then we all moved to the ceremonial area on the high hillside.

Javier led me up, by the hand, then told me to sit on the ground. It was there that the day’s misery began to pass. It was so cold and windy, and it was uncomfortable, but I felt still, truly still. When it got too cold, we all packed up and Javier closed the ceremony. We all made our way home, and spent the evening with soup and strudel by the fire at Javier’s. I was one of the last to leave, pinned down by the amazing, sweet cat, Bella.

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In most of my previous ceremonies, the insights were the gift of the experience itself. With this one, other than the early reflections on my lack of acceptance, I was too much in the throes of the purging to be able to receive insight. The job at hand during the ceremony was a big one, and as Javier suggested, it is likely not done yet.

What is at the heart of it? Self-destructiveness. Self hatred. Pema Chodron once wrote that only by exposing yourself over and over again to annihilation do you discover that within yourself which is indestructible. But now I realize that I’ve been hearing this all wrong...it is not by deliberately causing harm to myself that I find the transcendent. And yet, on some level, my whole spiritual search has been about that...across lifetimes, I suspect. Some of those dark, toxic feelings, they were deep and hot and all-consuming. The accumulation of lifetimes of not being free. Of trying to break myself, or of being forced into being broken by others, I have made my very nature to break my spirit to contain it. But why? Why all this hatred and loathing? Where does it come from? When did it begin?

I have a lot of blank spaces in my understanding of this. I’m still not sure what it’s all about, but I feel like I get momentary glimpses of insight. Maybe yesterday was about reliving all the suffering that has been stored in my body from a lifetime of self-abuse. And then purging it out. And maybe it is also a significant part of the process of undoing the image I have been so meticulously and violently been crafting for myself. What I am feeling is that never before had I been so shattered, so out of control, and most likely, never before had I been so utterly free of identity. Free of this self that I’ve been working so hard to create, an ideal version of myself, forged in violence and non-love.

And maybe I was embodying the part of me that has wanted this destruction, maybe I was allowing it to have its way, to bring on all the change it wanted. But the other part of me was in there, too, struggling against this dark force, alternatively crying out for help and begging for the job to just be completed: kill me now please.

The joyful, smiling face, though? I can’t believe that that’s not at least somewhat authentic. I know that I have experienced true goodness and joy and love. I know that my true nature is light. But, as Javier pointed out, I have used the light to escape the darkness. Fleeing from the darkness. And that doesn’t mean that the darkness fled, too...no, it was there all the time, awaiting a time when I was ready to face it. But what is the darkness? What is it that I was facing yesterday?

Even in the greatest miseries, in the darkest moments, I never lost faith that it would pass, that I would survive the experience. Javier told me that I had remained strongly anchored in the light, and that it would have been much messier if I had not. And I can feel what it is that he means, I know that I am indeed anchored in the light. But I don’t totally get it either.
I’m struggling to find a name for what it was that I was struggling with yesterday. I feel a blank space, and I’m not sure how to go on without more clarity.

Light and darkness. That’s what it’s about in essence. Love and hatred. Creation and destruction. Have I been wearing the face of light to mask the darkness that has in turn tried to suck out the light at the heart of me?

Javier said that these dark energies are very old and very deep, and that they are reluctant to go. That they have been fed so well for so long, that they weren’t going to go without a fight. And that was what yesterday was. a fight to begin purging them.

Now it is important that I gain more understanding about what it is that I’m working with...
Javier said to me last night that I have no idea how beautiful I was, that I was becoming the woman I was born to be...so touching. Several others also commented on my glow, and that I looked different. I felt like crap from being beaten down during the day, but accepted their kind words. I felt able to accept the kind words and touches of everyone, able to be vulnerable and open...and happy to be sharing their company. God bless them: Javier, Stephanie, Ashera, Nieve, Mary, Carolynne, Sailin, Billy, Marie Therese, and Daniel.

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There is a part of me that wants to die, and another part of me that loves being alive. And maybe somewhere along the way they came to the agreement that I could go on living, but with great suffering. The two sides shook hands and the struggle began. One part determined to be alive and radiant, and the other determined to puncture that radiance with every possible opportunity. And then, the other part of me, unaware of this battle, except in glimpses of insight, all fleeting. And yet the battle continued. The wounds of the dark side were deep and awful. And the light side chose to ascend higher and higher into the light to escape the deep pain of these wounds. The light side always appeared to be winning, but grew weaker with each subsequent attack. Then yesterday came, and the whole game began to fall apart.

The dark side wanted to destroy me, to end the whole game. The light side wanted to flee, also ending the whole game. Both sides of my duality were ready to escape with Huachuma working to cleanse me yesterday. Maybe the next question would be, with both these sides of me out of the picture, who was left to live through it all? The other part of me that is beyond these battles of duality, the eternal, transcendent Self.

I have so often wanted to just skip ahead and go into the transcendence without going through the muck. I’ve been aware of that for a long time. But what is the muck about? What is the suffering about? My mind is so set on transcendence that a part of me just can’t fathom the purpose of going through the muck. And now that I see that I, like so many others, have wanted the medicine to do the work for me, to fix me. Letting go can be easy, as they say, just let it go! But I also know that that’s not true. I know there will come a time when these things fall away, but only after working through them thoroughly. and the work doesn’t have to be about the mind or thought, it is about the heart. The games of the mind and ego are so strong, and this process only causes pain because those barriers must be penetrated.

Ceremony with Javier, July 18th

(pre-ceremony)

Another ceremony day. It has certainly been a day filled with other people’s drama, and tonight is the full moon in Cancer - an emotionally vulnerable (or even volatile) time. I’m feeling a little sick of other people’s moodiness, and am not feeling moody at all myself. I just put in some laundry, and it won’t be dry for another few hours...I hope in time for ceremony!
Stephanie is moody. Emma showed up here, sick, early this morning. And of course, Ewa isn’t here. So Stephanie took it on to take Emma into her room and let her sleep, but then was pissy about it. And she has decided to do ceremony tonight, too, which kind of surprised me. But it will be good for her, I think.

In my ceremony the other day, I released what feels to me like the deepest, darkest stuff that I’m aware I’ve been holding on to. And I feel like I’ve been delivered to a new place entirely, a true place of rebirth, free of so much fear and lack of trust. I feel ready to reinvent my life based in this clean place, this place of vulnerability and openness and trust. But I’ve already been finding that there are ideas and beliefs that I have about myself that may not serve me any longer. These old ideas about my identity must be discovered and released, and that is my purpose in ceremony tonight. To release any thoughts and ideas about who I am that are no longer true, that no longer serve me, that no longer fit this new way of life that I am in the process of creating.

I began thinking about doing ceremony tonight sometime yesterday, and what originally came to mind was my own tendency toward seriousness, and how that has often gotten in the way of my experiencing joy and humor. I began to talk to Daniel about this, and I didn’t get too far before he interrupted me, telling me that he couldn’t see what I was talking about, that my joy was radiant, and that he couldn’t believe that I was a person who was too serious in the time he had known me. He also suggested that it was possible that I was still concerned with something that had shifted, and that no longer applied to me.

His point was well taken, and I began to ask myself if this was true. And having had some time to sit with it, I’m sure it must be. I’ve been doing a lot of deep, personal work in the time I’ve been here. And things are surely shifting and rearranging themselves within me constantly. And just like an amputee who still feels his missing arm or leg, I am surely still feeling habitual responses to old ways of living. It’s time to take this process of rewriting my story to a deeper level. And that is at the heart of my intentions for tonight.

Tonight’s work is identity work. Now that these dark, poisonous parts of me have been purged and released, I want to shed the stories, ways of being, thoughts, all of what goes with that.

I am no longer a woman who has a bad relationship with her mother. I am a woman who is working to heal that relationship and build a deep, loving relationship with her mother.
I am no longer a suspicious, fearful victim of a terrible crime. I am merely a woman who was once robbed and who is now looking for ways to build trust in the world.
I am no longer a solitary loner, content in her distance, protecting herself from pain and hurt at the cost of companionship. I am a joyful woman seeking to build deep, loving connection with others in order to heal the world.
I am no longer a hurt, angry child, bitter and resentful of all the misdeeds of others. I am a healing, heart-centered woman, ready to help mend those in need.
I am no longer a woman who resists and holds back her feelings, fearful of what others will say in judgment. I am a woman who owns her entire self: her feelings, her thoughts, her ideas, her history, her ancestry, all of it, I own with joy, proud of who I am.
I am no longer a woman in hiding.
I am no longer a woman who doubts her divine right to be present and alive and growing in insight and wisdom.
I am no longer a woman who feels un-lovable, burdensome, inadequate.
I am no longer a woman who feels she must be something to others, for others, in order to be accepted.
I am no longer a woman in resistance of her own growth and healing.
I am no longer a woman who denies her strength and power in making a difference in the world.

I am a woman living joyously, openly, full of love, and certain that my role in this life is important in the healing of the world. I am a woman who chooses to live and communicate openly and honestly, living in integrity. I am a woman ready to live in full color, taking great pleasure in my life and in the world. I embrace my healing, and am happy to help facilitate the healing of others. I am ready to embrace my power, with love, to bring healing to the whole world. I am ready to release the old, limited ways of thinking and living, and to rewrite my story, manifesting a way of lie that is more in alignment with wholeness and love.
So, tonight in ceremony, this is my intention. To release old ideas about who I am and how I live in this world, all limited ways of being and thinking, so that I may fully enter this new way of life.

If Tuesday’s ceremony was an experience of rebirth, I ask that tonight be a cutting of the cord with my old life and patterns. I pray to be free of all the old stories that prohibit me from living freely, joyously, and full of love. I am willing to see anything Mother Ayahuasca is ready to show me tonight, and am courageous enough to endure any purging, mental, emotional, physical, or spiritual, that may be necessary to cut the cord. I trust that Mother Ayahuasca won’t give me more than I am truly ready to handle. But I also ask that this experience be strong and thorough. I feel like I am ready to enter a whole new phase of healing and learning, and it is my hope that tonight’s ceremony can usher me into this new level.

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(reflections)

This was my first ayahuasca ceremony with Javier, and it seemed that it was going to be big by his standards. At 530pm, I wandered with Stephanie over to his house, and everyone was moving into the temple already. Javier motioned for us to come around there with everyone else. Indeed, we were a mid-sized group. Carlos, Daniel, Marie Therese, Stephanie, Lissa (from New Zealand), Jane (who I’ve never met), Jolanda (who I only met in passing), myself, and Katie (from Australia), as well as Carolynne and Javier. Eleven in all. Javier arranged our placements according to some order of his own, and we pretty much got into starting the ceremony right away.

He came around to each of us, blowing tobacco smoke into the top of our heads and then into our hands, held in prayer pose. He then came around a second time and blew the smoke a second time, then putting his hands to each person's temples, then wrists, pulse points. He offered each person some insight into his or her dosage, as well as what he felt we’d be working with. He told me that my ceremony would be a continuation of what I’d been working with previously in the Huachuma ceremony, that the medicine was still with me. I too, felt this was true, and my intentions had been created around that premise. Finally the time came to drink the medicine.

The cup was short and round, and held a typical amount of medicine. I drank and was surprised by the syrupy thickness of the brew. But it was sweeter and less salty than Diego’s usually is. Almost like Nyquil. Strange. I’d heard everyone rinse out their mouths and spit into their buckets after drinking, and I quickly understood why. The thickness lingered in my mouth and a bitterness came...I, too, rinsed and spat. We all then sat, waiting for the medicine to come into us.

Javier began to sing icaros. At some point Stephanie began to purge. I felt love for her, but also a sense of gladness that her experience was strong. I stayed focused on my own breathing and bodily sensations. In this early part of the ceremony, the only thing that came to me was a sense of sitting very tall, and becoming very long and straight in my body. The sense was strange and wonderful, and a smile spread across my face.

Soon the icaros stopped, and Javier came to some of us who were not purging to ask if we had had enough medicine. The ceremony was only about 30 minutes underway, and I responded that I wasn’t yet sure. He said to wait another 30 minutes. While I felt some mild physical sensations, no greater response came, and in another 30 minutes, I knew a second cup ws needed. I drank and returned to my seat.

Javier’s temple was beautiful, different from the others I’d seen. Glass roof, six sided, and painted blue. Instead of seats on the floor, which I am fond of, there was a bench with cushions that wrapped the room. Several times I wished to be on the floor, but never made the move.
Time went by after my second dose, and I once more began to wonder if I’d had enough. Then the nausea began to build, and my purge came. I was surprised by the volume of liquid that came out of me, given the thickness of the medicine. The purge was strong, but not violent, and I felt sure that it was over then. I sat aside my blue bucket and waited.

The experience came in relatively soon after my purge, and the bodily sensations too. I first saw a path, a runway, but shaped like a sharp point, ^ , and i was asked to move along this fine edge. I realized that this was the strange roller coaster image that I have often seen in my ayahuasca ceremonies, the one with the slow, colorful balls of light moving along a track against a dark background. But this was the first time I was moving along the track, too, instead of watching. There were turnoff points and forks in the path, but I was led to one place and then the movement stopped. I felt as if I were being led by the hand to this stopping point, though I saw no guide in my vision. I looked ahead of me in the dim, colorful light. I saw a green park bench, and seated on it was a skeleton, Day of the Dead in Mexico style. It wore a grin, and there were things surrounding it on the bench, mostly pots of brightly colored flowers. I puzzled at the image, and then noted that this image was on a vehicle. It was a hearse, convertible, like the one in the film “Harold and Maude,” but painted in rich swirling colors, turquoise and an orangey-terra-cotta, mostly. The vehicle carried the park bench on top, and began to roll away to the right. As I followed the image, I realized that I was watching my own funeral! All of the old parts of myself that had been pulled up in my previous huachuma ceremony, and all the qualities of myself that had come up in my intentions, all these old parts of my story were being driven away. It was easy, where I had felt that it might be a struggle. I wasn’t even asked to re-identify these qualities and patterns in the ceremony. It was clear to me that in my writing them I had offered them up to be released, and they were rolling away to be buried. I smiled as I watched the scene.

Then, I became aware that I had been given a new body, a new form, fresh, empty, and to be created in a new way that serves the life I am now choosing to live. I saw the empty form begin to be filled through a trap door in my heart. In rushed stars and flowers, patterns and beautiful colors. These new parts of myself filled my form, and I began to feel so amazing! I wanted to see the process, to know what was filling me in a more intimate way, so my head became detached, like a periscope, and moved down to enter the fairy tale castle style trap door in my heart. I joyfully navigated my way around, from my feet to my head, swimming in this extraordinary beauty that was becoming my new body, my light body. Eventually my head emerged once more to its proper place, and I felt the hugeness and radiance of who I was, and it was incredible! Then, I watched as a waterfall opened up out of the wall near me, and this pure, crystalline water filled me. It seemed as if this water would activate the new splendor inside of me, allowing it to begin to grow and flourish. As I would breathe in, the water would saturate my being, and as I would exhale, it came out through every pore in my body, emerging to meet the world.

As this process finished, I began to smell the fragrance of burning sage. I opened my eyes to discover Javier moving around the room, smudging each of us. I drank in the fragrance hungrily, and when he came to me, I moved my hands around it. He asked me to stand, and the incredible power of this sage was moved around my whole body. I felt my new body drinking it in, and I knew that this was sealing my new body, finishing it. I sat down again, alive, pulsing with new life. Before the door to my heart was closed, I was asked for the new qualities that I wanted to carry, and I placed a few words within: love, joy, compassion, play, and others. Then I closed the magical heart-door and basked in this blissful state of being.

The radiance grew and grew, and after awhile, I didn’t know what to do with myself. My mind reeled. I hadn’t planned for the release process to be so quick and easy! Now, as the rest of the ceremony lay ahead of me, I puzzled with what to learn, to ask. Many questions emerged, and I asked the spirit of Mother Ayahuasca to appear to me and be my guide. She appeared in front of me as a giant, cartoonish chicken! I couldn’t believe this absurd image, and acknowledged that all things appear to us as we are ready to receive them, but this was clearly a cosmic joke! She transformed herself into an older woman and waited with me. I felt like the sky was the limit, that I was given total, free access to any answer to any question, and I had no idea where to begin. Who am I? What is my ultimate purpose in this life? What is the meaning of the universe? I was filled with cosmic questions. Then I thought of travelling to other realms, and was given access, but just as I was ready to fly away, I realized that that was merely a distraction, a fascination. I then thought to ask for information about my future - work, love, etc. I also quickly realized that that was mere fortune-telling, and a waste of this state of being. I then thought to ask to see people’s energies, and to be able to read their presence. I looked around the room and saw not colors, but patterns in each person’s energy. Rays and waves and spikes and swirls. Then I became aware of the others in the room, the guides and spirits. Javier was led by a very tall man wearing an eagle-type ceremonial costume. I looked to each person and became aware of a figure for each one, either watching, guiding, or holding them. To my right was an old man with slightly shaggy white hair, his back to me, watching over Jolanda. I felt a bit crowded by him until I realized his purpose. To my left, a young woman, tallish, light brown hair, pale skin, looking over Katie while holding a walking staff with colored bands near the top. Each person had a guide for the ceremony, but I couldn’t see mine! I could see my two Grandmothers of Remembering over my right shoulder, but not my guide to my left. I asked Mother Ayahuasca to show me my guide, and then Grandmother Rosemary appeared, joyful, to surprise me! I laughed and was filled with joy to see her there. It was clear to my understanding that these guides come to us for the heart of the ceremony, and can be different each time, but are not necessarily part of our personal inner council. And as the ceremony wound down, I saw the guides begin to leave through the door of the temple. I bade Grandmother Rosemary farewell.

Before the guides left, though, I felt a-swirl with all my questions. And I became aware that none of them would be answered then. My two Grandmothers of Remembering put a finger to their lips to silence me, and Grandmother Rosemary did the same. I was told that it was my calling to share these experiences, that that was essential. And I was also told to quiet my questioning mind, that through silence comes listening, and only that will open me to be able to receive the answers to all that I want to know. So I accepted that, sitting, receiving the bliss and radiance, knowing that it was all about being and receiving, not doing. Doing and action are about solving a problem, and give away the radiance, in a way, wasting the energy. I acknowledged my tendency to do this, and sat meditatively, receiving, growing fuller and ever more radiant, feeling large and round, mostly buoyant. Toward the end of the ceremony, I felt a heaviness descend, a hugeness, and I felt the weight of it in my teeth, lap, and hands. I have no clue what the heaviness was about, but I sat with it until the end of the ceremony.

At one point, I played my flute during the ceremony, and felt like I was listening to some unearthly melodies that I was asked to share. It was incredible!! The overall musical element of the ceremony was much less than with Diego, though, since Javier sings and rattles, no other instruments, and I found myself longing to sing more. Carlos played a few songs and that was a nice contribution, and Carolynne also sang some songs. But I longed for the musical element that Diego’s ceremonies provide.

I made it home by midnight and fell into bed, in a deep, wonderful sleep.

Huachuma Ceremony with Javier, July 15th

(pre-ceremony)



For now, I am tired, but wanting to be clear about my journey tomorrow. I drew a card from the Osho Tarot today:



TRUST



Of course, very appropriate for my recent difficulty with the bus from hell! I have pondered time and again that no matter how angry I feel toward a drunken, falling asleep, awful bus driver, the root of my anger in that situation is within me. Sure, his actions were unconscious, dangerous to many, many people. But if I leave that bus, and walk my way, I could still be struck down. And even if I become fanatical and never leave my home, a plane could crash, or an earthquake, or whatever.



While I feel that I have a good degree of control over my life, in fact, much of it is totally out of my hands. Sure, I can choose to do my part with ever-increasing awareness, but I don´t live in a vacuum! Things from outside of me will inevitably enter into my world, affecting me in small or great ways. And it is also my choice to make in how I will respond to these elements.



Control is conflict/aggression.

Apathy is unaware.

Fleeing/escapng is abandoning myself.



But...



Risk is required to live fully, and

Trust and Faith give me courage to go out into the world each day without succumbing to madness and fear.



The other night, several of us were out to dinner and Carlos made a statement about my having a lack of trust. And I acknowledged it, he´s right. I told him that I feel like I have a slight lack of trust in most things. And it´s true. One of the reasons I tend to be a loner is lack of trust in my fellow human beings. Many, many people have challenged my natural sense of trust that I have toward people when we first meet. But there are two errors here: first, my own expectations, and second, that the trust lies in other people and not beyond them in the divine order of the universe, in the sacred earth and sky.



So, my intention for my Huachuma ceremony tomorrow lies within this. May Grandfather Huachuma lead me beyond the very human limitations and failings, as well as my own expectations, and show me the deep trust and faith that comes from being truly grounded in the earth, the divine. And beyond thta deep feeling, known not in the mind, but in the body, or the felt sense, rests a true well being that comes with no worries, and the knowing that no matter what happens, I am taken care of by Mother Earth for all the days of my life.



On some level, I know this already. But I feel that I want to believe that it is true, that it is only words in my mind. I want to know it in my body. Free of fear, free of worry, free of doubt. Comfort in groundlessness, as Pema Chodron states it. Knowing that the rug is constantly being pulled out from under me, every moment, over and over. And being so centered in myself, and so unattached to certainty or patterns or habits, that true freedom results. Spontaneity. Flow. Again, in this sleepy moment, these are all beautiful, lofty concepts, but I pray that Grandfather Huachuma will show me how to live this way. Faith. Trust. Spontaneity. Flow. Groundlessness.



__________________________________



To write about yesterday´s ceremony is the hardest job so far because of the depth of the experience, for how far it reached into my dark places and dragged me to confront what doesn´t fit the way I´m choosing to live. All of my previous ceremonies have taken me to meet my crap, for sure. But in this one, my whole world as I know it crashed down, leaving me in sorrow, confusion, despair; a total loss of faith and trust in my fellow humans. And gradually, a new sense of trust and faith filled me again, freeing me from so much old baggage, of my old way of being. I am deeply humbled and moved by the gifts of vision that this medicine has given me. It would be best to start from the beginning.



I knew from over a week ago that I wanted to be with Huachuma for my birthday. Since my first ceremony was so filled with insight and a deep sense of connection, I felt that to spend time with this plant medicine would be a beautiful way to receive wisdom for my next year of life. Stephanie and I had talked about doing it together, but when I was talking with Daniel and Mary and found out that Javier was doing a ceremony on Tuesday, I knew that it was a good thing, the timing felt perfect. I only had to wait to see if my stomach illness was completely done, and then talk to Javier about it.



I wasn´t sure why, but I was nervous to talk to Javier. (Now I understand it was because I didn´t trust him...or anyone, for that matter...) I saw him a couple times during Monday morning, but was weird and didn´t say anything. Avoidance. And on Monday afternoon, I knew as I walked back from town that I had to go talk to him. I went first to find Daniel, and asked him to take me to Javier´s since I wasn´t sure where to go. I followed him, and he introduced me to Carolyn, who´s living at Javier´s, and who told us Javier was resting. Daniel totally called me on being too shy to come on my own, too!! After a few minutes, Javier appeared, and I asked. He said it would be fine, and asked some questions about my other experiences and what I was working on. I told him of my recent sickness, and of my ponderings on restlessness, and also on trust and control, relating to the traumatic bus ride from Cusco. He told me to get clear on my intentions, spend time alone, rest well, and we would leave at 730am on Tuesday. No food, bring water, sunscreen, something to lay on, and some food, like bananas. Good to go.



What I now realize is that my intentions came from my purest desire to grow and heal, but my ego wanted the growth without any suffering- to transcend the problems, and essentially escape them without the absolutely necessary process of going through them. And I know that´s not possible, but how the ego hopes and clings to the possibility.



We all met up at Paz y Luz as planned, and Javier had arranged taxis for us all: Daniel, Mary, Carolyn, Marie Therese, me, and him. I rode with Mary and Carolyn, and in about 45 minutes, we arrived in Tipon, and headed up the narrow dirt track to the ruins. We headed up into this lovely place, with terraces, ruins, rooms, and a wonderful network of fountains and water channels. We stopped by one fountain for a tobacco purification and to wash in the water. Then we headed up one of the terraces, one in points, sunny, backed by a stone wall with some shade, all grass-covered. This would be our base-camp. We sat down, made ourselves comfortable, and prepared to begin the ceremony and receive our medicine.



Javier came around once more for a tobacco purification, and then felt each person´s pulse on both wrists, acupuncture style, and asked about how much medicine we wanted. For me, he asked if I wanted to start slowly and maybe take more, or to start with a strong experience. I chose the latter, and my dose ended up being three heaping spoons of powder, plus a little more. One by one, we went up, set our intentions, and drank the medicine. We were instructed not to eat until he gave us the option of breaking the fast, not to speak to each other, too, and not to roam farther than we could see. Then, he sang some icaros, medicine songs, and we began to settle down and await the medicine´s arrival. Javier also came around to guide us through some breathing exercises to help bring the medicine into us.



It was in the middle of these breathing exercises that my stomach began to feel queasy. I´d already seen Carolyn beginning to purge, and thought to myself, ¨great, another day of puking!¨ I sat, feeling stiff and breathing deep and slow, trying to alleviate the nausea. I thought about my previous blissful experience with Huachuma, and though I tried to let go of my expectations, I though of how shitty it would be to spend the day miserable and nauseated. As the nausea grw, I got up to find more space of my own, not so close to the others. After all, I didn´t want to puke where one of us would end up stepping, sitting, or rolling in it. I moved to near one of the points of the terrace, and sat down to be miserable.



I tried to find the beauty around me, and found one dry flower stem, whose empty head held so many interesting dents where flower petals once were. I pondered it, holding back my nauseañ soon, Javier came over to check on me. When he asked how I was doing, I held up my stem and told him that this was beautiful, but that I was feeling sick. He asked me to clarify, and I specified that I felt like I was going to puke, and that I was sick of puking. He asked if I was no more determined than that, to give up so easily. I told him that I was very determined, but that after being sick for a few days, it was frustrating to be sick once again. He pointed out that I was sick of puking and I hadn´t even started yet. He suggested that I relax and go with the experience, leaving me with my miserable stomach.



I sank into a place of disgust, hating the way I was feeling, more miserable than I had willingly chosen - and was paying for - feeling ill. A huge struggle began in my mind, of resisting the feeling of needing to puke, and begging it to happen already. Finally it came, I retched out the foul, bitter green stuff. I had felt it would purge with force, but that was not the case. Feeling a little better, and not sure if there would be more purgign, I moved a bit away and spread out in the grass. I wasn´t sure that if by puking it all up I would have a lightened effect of the medicine, and my misery and doubt mounted.



I stared off into the clouds, watching them move and breathe. I watched the few other people in the site. I looked into the grass, eager to feel lthe joy and bliss of connection I had previously experienced in Huachuma ceremony. None of it. I felt like I was grasping for the familiar, safe beauty of a world that had once embraced me, but I was now forsaken. I saw only the world in the ordinary way, and felt separate from it, estranged.



At some point, Javier came to me a second time, asking how I was. I waved my hand, indicating so-so. He noticed that I had purged and then began to try to remind me of my intention: restlessness. I stopped him and said no, that I´d changed my mind, that I was working with trust and control. My speech was already feeling limited and I could barely articulate much. He began to offer some insightful words, but I just wanted him to go away. I felt so much tension, resistance. He left me with the words, ¨there´s a beautiful creation out there for you to enjoy...¨ Yeah, I thought, but I couldn´t feel it.



I began to cry. Some tears had already flowed, but now they started in their fullness. Trust and control, huh? Why should I bother?! How can I trust anyone at all? Then it became clear to me that this issue was about the assault. I wept in the grass, burying my face in it, weeping for that defining incident that had robbed me of my trust, leaving me in a state of fear, defensiveness, needing to keep others at a safe distance: of needing to control my environment in order to protect myself. And that was done by mostly spending time alone, but also by surrounding myself with the wrong people: damaged, unconscious people, who would justify my need for control.



I began to sink into an awful place. A place of dark purple-black poison, deep and thick, that threatened to pull me under. I looked out into the beautiful mountains and ruins, and could make no sense of it. It distorted and became flat, and I closed my eyes to escape from this hell-place. But closing my eyes was no use, because the hell was inside of me...darkness, poison. And then Javier came to me again.



He asked me how I was, and I nodded stoically, not looking at him. I was resisting crying, and again, wanting him to go away. No chance. He spoke to me of safety, and the need for saftey in times when I was in a situation needing no extra caution, of fear of surrendering, of resistance. His words were loud, too close. They seemed to come slowy, disconnected. The wind was loud, too, and whirling all around, and the landscape was foreign and kept changing in dimension and shape, moving quickly, so strange. At the same time, Javier´s words seemed to take eons to come, the space between them felt interminable. I struggled to follow, trusting that my subconscious mind could follow.



At some point, he put his hand in the center of my back as I was laying in the grass. It felt like I was trapped, like he was pushing me into the earth. I struggled to breathe, feeling suffocated. A part of me, a yellow part, wanted to flee and roll off the edge of the terrace. Another part of me felt like howling, screaming, wailing like a banshee, a demon being exorcised. And eventually I began to weep, without reserve. Javier stayed by me, hand on my back, sometimes silent, sometimes offering words of guidance, sometimes singing icaros to me. My sense of being there came and went as I delved into the realm of lack of trust and hurt.



I thought of the injustice done to me. I wept for my suffering, for the pain it caused me. And I began to consider all the other hurts and injustices done to others every day in the world. How could I feel trust of my fellow human when we harm each other and the earth constantly? It seemed like a worthless endeavor. Javier sat next to me still, and when my tears ceased flowing for a moment, I told him that three years ago I was assaulted in Bolivia. The words seemed distant and disconnected, but I felt it was important to share what I was struggling with. His words of guidance were usually well timed, and my mind´s reaction was usually one of sarcasm: I realized that I didn´t trust him, or any man, and that in holding on to this deep distrust of the whole world, I was creating a life of alienation and abandonment for myself. He spoke of blame, anger, injustice, of shame, of being the victim, of defensiveness, of holding on to this experience. And all were true.



I have felt anger at the world for its harm and injustice, feeling my own in a bigger context. I have been angry that this could happen, especially to me at the end of a beautiful spiritual journey. I have clung to injustice as a concept, and felt sympathy and empathy with all those who have been made victims, though I have refused to embrace the role of the victim, weak and damaged. I have felt shame, that I could have been so stupid to get myself into such a dangerous situation, and guilt that my ridiculous quest for meaning could have such dire consequences. I have felt a hard, defensive reaction in myself in any social situaion that feels slightly unfamiliar, and even lately, had carried a tightness in my body as a matter of habit. And for sure, I have held this experience as a part of my story. Not in a poor-me way, but in a hard, controlling way. I felt all these things in myself as I rode the waves, acknowledging the truth of it all. My heart was bitter and damaged because my deepest quest had been deeply dishonored. And while I have done much work to release this from my body and mind, it had burrowed into my heart, black and poisonous. And while I acknowledged all these feelings, I felt no sure way to release it. I had no clue how to do that.



Javier guided me with his words, that while this thing could not be erased, that I didn´t have to hold on to it. Essentially that it was a part of my story, but it was a choice to hold on to the reactionary feelings, or to release them to the earth. As I wept, I felt them begin to drain out of me, and it hit me: everyone who has ever hurt someone else has been deeply hurt themselves. That while the injustice is real, the root of causing harm is in the passing of it from one hurt person to another. And in knowing that, I thought of Mother Earth, how we go on hurting her, and she keeps on growing and nurturing us anyway. And as I lay there, tearful in the yellowed, mostly-dead grass, I could feel how even then, in its mostly dead state, the grass was thick and soft, happy to give me a soft place to recline. And this was trust beyond any conditions, trust based in faith, the essence of nature is trust. And that our essential nature as humans is the same, but that we lose that connection. And laying there, being comforted by the earth, I was trusting that the ground would continue to be there to hold me, that Pachamama would nurture and provide for me. I asked, ¨how can I trust my fellow humans in this same way?¨ And the answer was, ¨Practice. This is the purpose of intimate relationships, to practice trusting another in spite of what s/he does to break your trust, make you angry, etc.¨ At this point, the whole ceremony shifted for me. I surrendered to listen to the messages of healing that were to follow.

Not surprisingly, the issue that came up next was my mother. While I had effectively purged my anger toward her in a couple of previous ceremonies, I had not yet learned how to truly forgive and heal our relationship. I saw that she, too, was a hurt being carrying forward the pain to others becasue she knows no other way. And I realized that I have no idea what has hurt her, and that she has probably never had any opportunity as powerful as the one I was having to heal these deep wounds. And what a simple, yet profound gesture it would be to go to her, to take her hands, and to listen to her. I asked the medicine how I could help her, and I was told to go to her with a week´s time, to plan to go somewhere, just the two of us, and to spend the time letting her talk, asking her what has hurt her, and honor her process of healing. Practically speaking, shed have to be ready and willing, and that may not happen. But the thought and feeling of being able to not only go to her, but to be open to facilitate her healing brought me to feel true compassion, and I realized that whatever I had previously felt and believed to be compassion was little more than pity. A totally new, profound feeling. I even tried to think of calendars and dates of when I could go to see her, but such topics crashed in the timeless arena of San Pedro. I relaxed and knew that I would figure that out soon.

Javier came over to me again, and I was sitting up. At one point, lost in the sequence of the day, he had told me, "you are so generous with others, now be that generous with yourself." This time, he asked me how I was doing and I said, "better." He asked me if it wasn´t time to break my fast, and I shook my head, no. He asked if I didn´t think I deserved it, and I said I didn´t know. He told me that I did deserve it, and I agreed to take some water. He brought my bag to me and sat down next to me again. I tried to take my water bottle out, but the clip (caribiner) blew my mind - I couldn´t figure out how to get it off my bag or the bottle! I looked at him and he looked at me, and I burst out laughing, so baffled by it all. He laughed too, and gave me a hard time about the safety of my water bottle, and how I had to securely attach it to my bag, and it was funny, I saw the absurdity of it, just another symptom of control and fear, the lack of trust. And he made a poignant observation about my country being security and safety obsessed, and in spite of my best intentions, I carried that within me, too. And it´s true, even when I mock my country´s ways, I am not immune. He reminded me not to judge my country for this, but to instead understand it and live free of it. And the same compassion I had felt for my mother expanded to my people, and all people for that matter. I felt love and understanding for all the people in the ruins, even those who were clearly just there to see it all and snap some photos. My judgement dissolved, and love for humanity filled my heart. And a smile began to spread across my face, pure and genuine, maybe even beatific, like the clouds clearing from the sun. I felt truly happy and full of bliss.

So many things then came and went. The essential teaching had ended, but there was much more to be shown. The feeling of love that trust could bring were given to me. The feeling of a stem of grass seeds across my face was exquisite, and I let it trail there slowly. The face of a dog that burst into flowers filled me with love and joy. The exquisite beauty of Tipon, the secrets that were waiting, all was too good to be true! I realized that the light of day was waning, and could hardly believe that it was possible that the day was nearly over. It defied my whole sense of time. The joyful voices of others began to invade my reverie, breaking my concentration on listening to the messages of the medicine. I did hear that I could model healing for women based on what I had learned, both during this day, as well as what I will learn with my mother. I also understood that my bamboo flute music could be the center of creating my own healing ceremonies. I leaned my left ear to the ground to hear these messages.

I then felt inclined to listen with my other ear turned back over my shoulder. I then sensed the white light from my ayahuasca ceremonies. The light, over my right shoulder, appeared then as two old women, one in front of the other, the second one who is peeking over the shoulder of the first. I wasn´t clear if they were ancestors from two different generations, or if the second one was shy, but I quickly realized that these two grandmothers were the two sets of hands that lifted me up into the familiar, blissful home-space in my previous ayahuasca ceremony. What a gift, to meet them! As the coolness came over Tipon, I asked them to teach and guide me, particularly in the ways of healing with plants, in whatever way I am intended to be involved in healing.

Marie Therese came over to me, to ask how I was doing. Though she speaks very little english, in this moment, language was not a barrier. She stood behind me, guiding me to lean into her legs, and she did some kind of energy healing on me, my head and face, mostly. And as I leaned into her strong legs, I realized that I had never before trusted another human being enough to totally surrender my control and allow someone else to support me. It felt good, to be in true, unconflicted contact with a fellow human being, and I hoped that others were not like me. She told me that I was a woman, that we were women, and it was a beautiful moment of sharing. I looked down into my left hand. I had been gathering burrs from the ground all day. While I do love them and find them beautiful, I knew early on that I was collecting them to represent the wounds I have felt, or the problems I was working with. I looked down on about 20 little burrs. I had thought about putting them in one of fhe water channels, but they were far below, and I still couldn´t walk so well. I then, too, realized that air was the element of this particular ceremony, and that I could free them to the air. There, with Marie Therese by my side, I looked at her and then threw them all out toward the edge of the terrace. Gone! She said, in english, also a puzzling thing, "you are a woman, you are a mother." I still cringed at the sound of the word mother. Not so much because of any problems with my own mother, but in suggestion that I could be a mother. All the meant, though, was that I was spreading these little seeds, and earth mother. And it was true. I don´t have to have a kid to feel my connection with nurturing the earth!

So, I began to sit with the word, mother. Holding it in myself, not rejecting it, but I began to see images of women, round and pregnant, brown, round stars, Pachamamas, with open hands outstretched and wild hair flowing all around, and I felt round and open and creative too. The feminine creative force of the earth. Another pure smile spread across my face as I felt all the ways I was a part of this feminine creation, an Earth Mother in many ways. And in the grass, I began to see mandalas forming as my vision fell across the ground, little circular, green forms of divine cosmic order, spectacular. In my hand, two long stems of grass seeds, one light, one dark. They represented union, relationship, of coming together in trust. I placed them in the back of my journal.

I felt that the medicine was still in me strong, but was in decline. Javier brought me some ginger tea, so that I wouldn´t wither, and he told me to drink...he had offered me something called maca pops, too, but I couldn´t bring myself to put something so non-foodlike in my body at that time. I drank the tea, and began to feel the waves of intensity relaxing. I felt so happy, too, so natural. And a secret little grin just wouldn´t leave my face.

Throughout the day my body temperature had been fluctuating. Hot, cold, hot, cold. I left the intense sun a couple times, but also would touch the top of my head to feel whether the sun was too much for me. But at this point, the light of day was quickly fading, and a chill set in with the waning afternoon. I sat, filled with understanding and deep compassion, feeling as if my heart had been pierced. The blue shadows of day were ancient, and I, too, felt as if I had lived a lifetime during the day. I wished for the sun to go back, stunned on some level that it could really have been getting late. But I also felt weathered, seasoned, wiser. I thought about my wounds that I had faced during the day, and how they were still with me, scars...yet they were sweet somehow, vintage, they had seasoned my heart, making my ability to love deeper, richer. And I felt a sweet aching within me, a depth, a knowing. I felt that I was now ready to really love others, to help them heal, too. I was so moved, so touched by the day´s journey, so grateful to have released this deep suffering. So full of love and acceptance of myself, and ready to enter a new year of life, truly reborn.

A group with a Qèro shaman was heading out, and the shaman was playing a flute...badly. I tried not to judge, but waited for them to leave to begin my own playing. I pulled out my flute and sat it on the ground. Javier shouted over, "yeah, show èm how it´s done!" I said that that wasn´t the right attitude, and then Carolyn said to offer it up to the Apus. And I felt the desire to play grow within me. I slid into the sun at the point of one of the terraces and began to play. I felt my body snap up into a straight, meditative posture, and a deep well of strength surged into me as I began to play. The tone was rich and strong, and I felt the air flowing through me with such groundedness, with a rick power. I´m sure that I´ve never played better. I felt that I was listening to the music of the place, of the land, and merely channelling it. I played from my core, and it was beautiful. Eventually the wind began to play with me, blowing against me, causing me to shift around to avoid the currents of wind. An amusing game that led me to eventually call it done. The sun had fled to the other side of the ruins, and we all packed up to go sit there and close our ceremony. I took a few photos, hoping to capture these two tiny plants at the edge of the terrace...but my camera couldn´t even register them. I was sad to see that, but understood that this is the nature of this medicine. They were dear to my heart, like black candleabras, anchoring my vision for so much of the day. I thanked them and bade them farewell.

Walking was a challenge, but a delight to my bare feet. I began to think about my southern heritage and all the mocking of folks in the hills wearing no shoes. And I laughed and embraced my heritage, my ancestors, and in doing so, I knew I was accepting all that I am even more completely, and that felt so good. I walked slowly with Carolyn, telling her that I would like to live someplace where I never would need shoes, and she agreed.

We made it up to the high point across from where we had been all day. Stunning beauty, the rugged mountains, bright afternoon sun lingering awhile longer from our place. Smoke covered the whole site, burning my eyes. The soft grass and earth turned prickly with thorns. I knew that I´d need to put my shoes back on soon. We sat, shared, talked, laughed. Javier sang some more songs, we all sat in a ceremonial circle, in communion once more. Mary shared some rose oil with me, so amazing! Then Javier, too, shared an oil, and I think it was also rose; he sang an icaro about the perfume of a rose lasting only a moment. So beautiful. Our time there was so sweet, so beautiful. He closed the ceremony as the sun sank behind the mountain, and we gathered our things to walk down.

I was slow, having a bit of a time maneuvering my body, and also feeling enrapt in all that was around me. Little flames of green flickered in the grass, the same as the mandalas had been before. We stopped by the same fountain to wash again and a couple of Peruvians asked to take a photo with us, very amusing! We then made our way down. I stoped a few times, once called by some beautiful plants, with a bizarre stick-mantis-like insect on one of them. I called Carolyn over to see it, and we pondered him for a moment. I was called next by a spiral shell, abandoned, then by another tiny one. I had found one other shell up at the peak where we closed the ceremony. I felt sure to keep the large two, but the small one wanted to go. I turned to see an old lady, then a young girl. I went over to the girl and opened my hand, offering the shell; she looked skeptical, but the older woman told her that it was a gift. I smiled to the girl as she took it, then I left, without saying a word.

We piled into the taxis and made our way back to Pisac. I felt the old habit to resist, to feel carsick, to not trust, but then I told myself that driving wasn´t my job, and sat back to enjoy the ride, to take in the beautiful mountains. The night came. The moon was bright. I saw faces, bodies, beings, animals, and scenes in the tall mountains and cliffs. One very beautiful cliff had the most incredible texture. I named it Canyon of the Bell Flowers after the datura flowers that gracefully grow here, with their white blossoms like bells. We made it back into town and were caught for awhile in the traffic of the fiesta. Javier went to get soup for everyone, and we met up back at his house. We ate, sang, held each other, and talked. A lovely, intimate evening. And my respect and gratitude for Javier was tremendous. I now understand why people say he´s the best. Because he never abandoned us to our experiences. He was an incredible guide. He pushed me into my own bullshit, into the places I tried to escape. And I didn´t escape them, I went through them. Hard. But so worth it.

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The morning after, we all met to share our expereinces, to begin the integration. Each of us spoke, sharing our journeys. I had decided it was necessary to share the story of my assault, and was a bit nervous to talk about the intimate details of my journey, but also knew it would be good. Whem my time to speak came, I spoke strong and openly. And as I shared my story about the assault, Carolyn spoke up. She said, "I think I was there..." I looked at here, and my mind went immediately back to the woman who had held me while I cried, hysterical, at Hotel Torino in the lobby, the woman who gave me money to make sure I could get out of the country. Her name was Carolyn. And I leapt to my feet, my hands came to my mouth, and I knew it was true, it was HER! She stood, too, and I embraced her, held her so tight, in tears of amazement that this could really be true. I held her and wept, and the room was silent.

I am still stunned that this could be true! How in the world did this happen? That we would be drawn together again, here, in ceremony?! In a ceremony that dealt with precisely THAT incident?! And now, my heart is pierced even more fully, pierced by a gratitude that can never be fully expressed. And the whole incident has come full circle. The feeling that I have, knowing this, beging here with Carolyn, being able to thank her in my small way, is indescribable. It blows my mind beyond anything I could ever imagine. And if trust is my lesson, this has sealed the deal. The most amazing synchronicity of my life. God bless her!

Ceremony with Diego, July 11th

(written a few days following the ceremony)

Recovering...still weak and spacey...what a three days it has been. Trauma, panic, ceremony, illness, purging, sleeping. Friday night was my hardest ceremony yet. It seems that it began hours before, and continued through the day yesterday. And it wasn´t a journey of great visions and insights, which made it feel even harder to accept and appreciate for me. But even now, in my early reflections, I understand that this whole miserable few days may offer me great insight into my own nature and suffering. And for as much as as that sucks, I am grateful to at least have the desire to understand it all.

One thing about recovering from illness, I feel so still inside, very still in mind. Efficient due to weakness. A gift of slowness, rest. No great desire to do or speak, just beingness. I am sad that I didn´t get to say goodbye to Maria and Sarah, but it had to be that way.

So, I spent a couple days and one night in Cusco, and that was a good experience for the most part. Noisy, touristy, hectic. But my hostel was fine, quiet, comfortable. I began to get a headache in the afternoon. I was walking in San Blas in the afternoon, and who appeared behind me but Janna! We had tea at the Coca Shop and talked, and she showed me her hostel, which was very nice. Then I headed toward the bus station around 3pm to head back to Cusco for the night´s ceremony. The day went downhill from there.

I got on the bus, in the front seat. We left once the bus was full, as is normal. We departed and I got a funny feeling about the driver. By the time we were in the mountains just over Cusco, I had caught his eyes in the rear-view mirror several times. His eyes were slow and kept shutting...definitely the eyes of someone who´s falling asleep, and very possibly because he was intoxicated. I became nervous when he kept taking his hands off the wheel to spread a red cloth over his huge gut, apparently to keep the steering wheel from rubbing. He only took the wheel when we began to run off the road, which happened three or four times. At that point, the road was well in the mountains, but I began to worry that he was in no condition to drive, and thought of the steep cliffs ahead...

I kept a close eye on his eyes. They fluttered open and closed. He looked out the window, we hit the gravel at the side of the road. We sped up, he braked hard to a near stop, then sped up again. Yawning, his eyes fluttered closed, desperate for sleep. I began to seriously wonder if we would hit the steep cliffs and sail right over. I began to cough loudly to startle him awake. He swerved, ignoring the yellow lines. He stared out the side window. His arm flailed around for the gear shift, finding it as if blind. My fear escalated. I looked around at the other passengers to see if they noticed, but it seemed they did not. I began to send spiky thoughts to poke him awake and coherent. The cliffs appeared. More speeding and steep braking, more disregard of the yellow lines. I visualized a protective white light around the bus and prayed that we would all make it alive to our destinations. I felt angry that this asshole could endanger all of our lives out of his own lack of awareness and apathy. Several times I thought to ask just to get off the bus and walk the rest of the way back to Pisac, but didn´t. I wanted to scream and cry, but didn´t. And when the orange Pisac bridge appeared, I was grateful to step off and have my feet on the earth again.

I felt lost and distant when I got off the bus. I wandered to Ulrike´s for a mate de coca, and drank it in strange silence. I felt like I was ill, but no particular illness could be detected as I scanned my body. What I hadn´t realized is that I had fled my body in a major way, fearing seriously that the bus would go over the cliff. I was feeling weak, and decided to take a taxi home to Paz y Luz.

It was only a few hours before ceremony, and I needed to change clothes and prepare my intentions. Gray let me into Stephanie´s room, where my things were being stored. I got clothes out and changed, and felt more strange by the minute. By the time Stephanie had returned, I was under a blanket on her bed, shivering. My headache was gone, but I felt awful. Still no clear intentions, and it was an hour until I was supposed to go to Diego´s. Stephanie told me that I didn´t look good, that maybe I shouldn´t do ceremony. She also suggested a hot shower, since I was shivering. I stood under the very hot water for 45 minutes, and the heat barely penetrated the surface of my skin. My inner temperature was nearly impossible to regulate at that point, and eventually I got out of the shower and dressed. I even used Stephanie´s hairdryer to bring more heat.

7pm came, and I sat on Stephanie´s bed, unsure of what to do. I didn´t feel well at all, but I really wanted to be in ceremony. I cried in exasperation, and Stephanie said she´d clear her other bed for me, in case I wanted to sleep there, and she´d leave the door open. I told her that if I didn´t return by 9pm, I wouldn´t come.

I gathered my things and headed to Diego´s. I rang the buzzer...no answer. I started to wonder if I was alive or just a ghost, lost and wandering, if the bus had really made it to Pisac at all, or whether we had all flown off the road to our deaths. I rang a second time and was let in. I wandered in, and ran into Diego and another man. Diego greeted me, and I told him I wasn´t sure if I was getting sick or not, or if I should be there at all. He hugged me and told me to come inside by the fire.

I met Alexandra and Milagros by the porch, and Alexandra hugged me, and it was wonderful, and she talked for awhile about my poncho and the lovely colors, but I couldn´t follow her words so well. I somehow ended up telling Milagros that I was feeling sick and traumatized by my bus experience, and she asked more about it. I told her my story, and that I was feeling cold and my stomach was still off from the motion sickness. She led me in, and I sat by the fire. Diego introduced me to a couple other new guys, as well as Alexandra´s sister. I sat by the fire, said hello, and looked around the room in a panic. I felt hot and cold, and shed my bag and my poncho. Then, feeling overwhelmed and ready to cry, I fled the house and went to the porch to breathe. Carlos came walking toward me, and sat down next to me. He held me while I cried, and I tried to breathe slowly. We talked, I don´t remember much of the conversation. He asked me how long it had been since my last ceremony...not sure why...eventually he went inside.

I sat on the porch, feeling lost, like a ghost. I wandered to Kody´s room, and he wasn´t feeling well either. He and Unu were good to me. I cried and struggled to breathe, realizing that I was at the edge of a full-blown panic attack. I eventually wandered out to the temple and sat alone for awhile. Maria came in and sat with me for awhile, holding me, listening to me, comforting me. Then, after some time, Milagros came in and sat with me. Maria left.

We talked for awhile. She had never been really friendly with me before, and I had always assumed that she didn´t like me. But this night she was so kind, and listened to and comforted me. I don´t remember most of it, but what I realized in the course of our conversation was that I was more traumatized by the bus than I had realized, and that I had fled my body pretty intensely. I talked about my panic attacks, and she asked me when they began, and how I got through them before. What I knew, then, is that I wouldn´t know whether I was physically ill or not until I came back down into my body, but I wasn´t sure how to bring myself back.

In a way, I wanted either Milagros or Diego to tell me whether or not to do ceremony. They both made me feel welcome, but neither one made any effort to influence my decision.

Before Milagros left me, she told me of a Peruvian custom, an old one. When a child was frightened severely, it was believed that his or her soul would flee. Then the whole community would gather to have a ceremony to bring back the child´s soul. The one leading the ceremony would go to the place where the soul was lost with a puppet, representing the child. He would call the soul back, catching it in the puppet, and then in ceremony give the child back his or her soul. Milagros said that maybe I could ask for my soul to come back in ceremony.

Sh also shared a story of her own, of being out of body when her son was a baby, that she was preparing a bottle for him, then went to her bed and saw herself there, sleeping. She said that she wasn´t scared, just surprised, and that she awoke right away, back in her bed.

At that point, I decided that I was going to stay for ceremony, for better or worse. If I was physically ill, it would be purged. If I had a fit or panic attack, losing control, then it would come. I felt that this space, ceremony space, could contain whatever was to come.

We were about twelve in all, and I sat next to Sarah, with no one on my left. The whole atmosphere of the ceremony was a bit off for me. I wasn´t sure whether or not I was feeling physically ill, or whether it was all emotional, but I trusted the medicine. I knew that the medicine would bring whatever it was into the light, or purge it away.

I drank the medicine, and it wasn´t too bad. I sat, then, awaiting it to come into me. As time went by, the nausea mounted, and I purged powerfully. I purged a second time during the Spanish lyrics of Suddhosi Buddhosi. But the visions never came. The insights and wisdom never came. Songs came and went, and I sang as best I could. At one point, Diego asked me to play, and I did, and even beautifully, but my heart wasn´t joyful. My body was in incredible misery, my stomach was cramping more and more intensely. I begged to purge more, but my guts writhed. I thought to drink more, but my vision was slow and blurry, and my body was too much with the medicine to move. I couldn´t even purge more by ramming my finger down my throat, that ony brought more gagging and no relief. I stuck my head into my purge bucket, hoping the hideous, foul smell of ayahuasca puke would bring more purging. Nada. I swayed, making myself dizzy, hoping the same, to no avail. I felt it was hopeless. I was stuck, miserable, and yet the ceremony stretched on, endless. I whimpered, but couldn´t even cry. I sat, breathed. I wished I could have a fit or panic attack, but nothing came. The ceremony wore on. I sang, sat, breathed. At one point, I lay down on my side, hoping to sleep. Nothing. Others began to purge very powerfully, to weep. I envied their releases. I begged for my own. But nothing came. Eventually, after what felt like years, Diego lighted the candles and closed the ceremony.

I felt like I would never be well again. My stomach cramped. I tried to talk with Sarah, but I was miserable. She gave me bread, since we were hoping it might settle my stomach. I ate one or two bites. I felt worse. I wanted to die. Kody was sick, too, and went to bed right away. Milagros didn´t seem sympathetic, and when I told Diego that I felt really sick, he told me to have patience. I felt stuck, and no one seemed to have much regard for my sickness. I stumbled to the toilet, and the severe diarrhea began. I whimpered and wpt and went several more times to shit my guts out. Nearly everyone left, but the two new guys, Carlos, and Alexandra. Carlos tried to hold me, to comfort me, but I kept pushing him away. He eventually pulled me outside to do a tobacco cleansing, and he was so kind and intense, he even sang to me. Then, he tried to get me to smoke the tobacco and I resisted. He tried to suggest that I was deliberately holding on to something, but I couldn´t manage to convince him that I was actually ill. I eventually curled up on the cushions with three blankets and my sleeping bag and fell into a fitful sleep.

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!

Huachuma Journal, July 5th

This series of writings were written in the midst of my day-long ceremony with San Pedro, Huachuma. I am unable to include sketches and drawings, to my regret, since symbolic communication became integral to my experience. What I am including below is unedited, exactly as it was written in the midst of this ecstatic journey.

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Have joined in a day of San Pedro - Huachuma. Am just beginning to feel the plant come into me. Six of us and Diego.

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Why are there words? And why can´t I always feel this immediate connection with the world around me, all other beings? What is this thin line of language in the midst of the full reality of the world? And what are the powers of these shapes of language? They keep me from really listening to the deeper rhythm of the world...and yet, they are my acknowledgement of my place within it, of my point of brightness in the midst of so many others, my sacrifice, my celebration of being alive in the whole of it all!

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I am sitting in the wet, drinking grass and a tiny, translucent worm is inching its way across my foot, and I can HEAR the earth drinking in the morning´s water offering, and...and the whole of existence is breathing, drinking, absorbing, being. None of it is in conflict. All of it is ALREADY WHOLE. I get it now. The tiniest environments mirror the biggest. This is the cosmic mandala of the wet, hot, drinking, breathing earth.

The warmth of the sun...this is the greatest pleasure...my skin is drinking it in as the earth around me slowly consumes the moisture. Water. It´s ALL water... the sun is too strong for long, though!

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I am with tears for the second time today. For all the days I have not lived with listening and sensitivity, for all the tiny lives that have gone on, unnoticed, by me...right here in the grass. I have made a cairn of tiny, fuzzy flowers, crowned with a spiral burr...and that is my day´s discovery. That this tiny world in the grass is a lacy mandala of verdant life, and even smaller and more magnificent than I could have ever imagined. The fine lines and vines and veins and pattern s, and the variation in colors, a tiny yellow flower just there...oh, this world is beautiful beyond imagining.

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It occurs to me that the whole world is a plant world! Grandmother Rosemary is close by, baking in the warm sun, her gnarly hair glistening in the sunlight with blossoms open to the sky. Dragonflies mating, sunning themselves. Flowers...oh, so many flowers! And the distant stream...the water is alive, graceful, so beautiful! How is it that I don´t spend all day everyday for my whole life just witnessing the magnficence of the world?! What more could I ever hope to know or do in this life, than to witness the grass-world? The flower-world? The water-world? The tree-world?

Silence and listening...being empty to contain silenc e...even though these words flow through, they seem to come from somewhere other than my mind! The deep silence within me is the first necessary thing! And arriving at that point...the practice to always return to this still point of silence...when this is the center of my being, then listening can begin. Listening does not take place in the spaces between making sound or speaking...listening comes as a result of being empty of all of that...silence must happen first, then listening has room to flower.

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Watching the bees in the sage...this is why I cannot spend my whole life witnessing the world...each part has its role...all of life is in right relationship with itself, and the giving and taking and receiving: this is reciprocity! How can I live with this degree of grace and balance? Living within the rhythm of the day...the cycle of light, of living and surrenderin g to the flow...dampness and water and drying and the smells of the rich earth becoming richer, drier...the smell of morning´s damp femininity is being consumed by the dry heat of afternoon. I am understanding the natural role of feminine and masculine balance...the yin and yang...the cycle of it all. I get it now! And in order to know myself, be myself, I must understand this. I must now try to feel any conflict or create any conflict within this balance! For knowing myself, embracing my whole self is the result of simply existing in the joy of watching the current of feminine life flowing through me. I am this earth! I am not a being of this earth, I AM this earth! May I always live knowing this for the rest of my whole life!!

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And in order to be in relationship, all I must do is be! Not do...it is not a matter of action. Love is not a matter of ac tion, but a presence that flows out of simply being whole.

This is the remembering. The place of simply being whole in my own skin, in my own mind, in my own heart, and also feeling the relationship of that wholeness in ever expanding concentric circles of life, all of it!!!

(sketches here...a spiral, the burr...a sand dollar like shape, and a triangular swiriling image with spirals on each corner, as well as another triangular image with loops at each point...)

The triangle image, not unlike my name... A.

What is the shape about...three...looking...edges...facing each other, flowing intersecting...it is the essence of community. And language too...

ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ

Numbers and letters all coming too quickly, the energy of language, the seed in the infinite...breathe, slow down!!!

The code of it all, I feel it...the truth of it all, the code of life...there is no clear answer, no intersection of clarity, only a shape of knowing, of connection, and that shape is:

(more sketches...the same three sided triangle with spirals, then the three sided triangle with loops on the points, two superimposed over each other, to make six loops...)

I saw this months ago, or weeks, anyway. In my parting ceremony with my tree, this image came to me, flowing, moving triangles...no explanation, no words, only images.

This, then somehow...this way of knowing with symbols and language...how is that the same as the bee collecting his sustenance from the soft, purple sage flowers...it doesn´t seem the same at all, yet it is somehow...that my place in creation is to harvest the symbolic nectar of this divine universe?! And that is the cosmic mandala of life itself...but what does it mean, the flower, the star?

To hold the enthusiasm of childlike wonder with the stillness of an adult...that is what I feel like right now! Enough understanding to hold back a bit, not cause harm in the midst of my exploration...and isn´t that what it´s all about!

(Sketch of triangle with spiral points...)

This symbol is somehow about separation, or of meeting, but not merging.

(Sketch of double triangle with loops, superimposed...)

And this is about union, merging...whole alone, and still able to merge, to unite...and while the first symbol felt so good at first, now it brings me some sadness... and this second symbol, yes, the second symbol, union, wholeness...and it holds within it the seed of the first...a wholeness that contains all of itself, and also that is in the same concentric circles that live in this beautiful juicy man darin, in the onion, in the face of the flowers, buried within the sweet, dewy folds of the rose. The seed of life, as well as the most beautiful expression of it all...all at the same time, it´s almost too much to take!!!

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The richness is in the slow, the small, the simple. That´s also alive in this symbol (spiral triangle sketch)...the trinity...this is the Sacred Feminine.

Tendrils of afternoon shadows trailing across my skin, across the land...deep warmth giving way to coolness...the promise of night, of shadow, of darkness, and even of death. To return to this microcosm, to feel the rich grass growing up through my flesh, of the ultimate surrender...of that I am not afraid; how can I die to every moment, to surrender myself to this eternal rhythm?! I need not surrender to it, there is no activity involved that is necessary. I must only NOT INTERRUPT that surrender, that rhythm...

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I am here with all of my relations...

(sketches...)

I´m so glad that Grandmother Rosemary is here. I´ve taken a few of her leaves into my mouth, and OH! So many sensations! Sweet, pungent, sharp, sparkling...she makes me want to inhale. She brings me fully into my skin, and asks for more water. Yes, water!

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Today is a day that I have known how to make altars and to honor the beauty and life of the universe, grand and infinitesmal. My whole being has lived in full reverence. May every other day of my life reflect what I have known here, today.

(Sketch of healing hand with symbols and energy radiating out from the fingers...)