Friday, December 2, 2011
They say that the first one is usually an easy one. It can act like the carrot on the end of a stick, showing you the potential of what life can be like once you go through the work and release the stuck energy. This was definitely true of my first journey with Ayahuasca. She was gentle and kind to me, opening my heart and mind to the possibility of living a life of love and compassion.
I was invited to the ceremony just the night before it happened by a new friend in Santa Cruz, someone I trusted who was a part of the Satsang meeting I went to. It was an intimate group of 8 people joined in the living room of my friends house. My friend was the sitter and his friend was the facilitator/shaman. The medicine was made by a close friend of the shaman who lived in Hawaii. The situation felt safe and I was finally ready to try it.
From everything I had heard and read about Ayahuasca I was definitely scared. I had been investigating the medicine for many years now and was finally at a point of desperation where I needed to try it. Before the ceremony, I wrote a long letter to Mama Aya stating my intentions for healing and asking her to give me courage and strength to face whatever would come up. I asked her to be gentle yet stern with me.
When the medicine first came on I could't believe my mind was generating the incredibly colorful, diverse and brilliant fractal designs that were dancing to the music in the space all around me. I began to have alternating waves of fear and elation as my awareness went from the beautiful display in my mind's eye to the growing discomfort and rumbling in my stomach. My breathing got heavier and the waves of nausea increased in intensity, within 20 minutes of drinking I couldn't hold back anymore, I bent over and puked out the medicine breathing dramatically in between heaves. This catapulted the intensity up a notch and soon my body was laying down on my mat. My mind was partially in another dimension, swimming through galaxies singing, dancing and crying with my ancestors. And my body was alive with sensuality, I pet my own skin, feeling deep appreciation and love for my body and it's sensuality. The shaman alternated playing music and singing traditional songs with her magical voice, most of them in Spanish. Each one tickled my whole being with delight. During on the songs, my Native American ancestors sang to me from the universe, reminding me of my purity, innocence and beauty and assisting me to look down on my human self from my higher self. I saw myself as a sweet and lost soul who was very wrapped up in her story. I felt compassion for her and I laughed at her for taking herself so seriously. I was shown many things and with each revelation I would sigh an ecstatic sigh of relief. When someone else in the circle puked, I could see the puke as demons swirling in the bowl. The whole time I was writhing, laughing, humming to the music and sighing. I felt bad I was so noisy for a minute but then I just decided to not hold back and let the noises come. At the time no one had told me that it's customary to try and stay quiet so the other people could be in their own journey. I wish I had known that and hopefully I didn't take away from the other people's experiences too much.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
After yet another weekend of doing nothing except laying in bed, listening to Adyashanti, eating, walking on the beach and meditating, I woke up this Monday morning thinking "oh good, I have work to do - maybe that will keep me distracted." But the distraction didn't work this time. A depression had been creeping in since the day before. I named it the nothingness. It felt like one of those bluesy days where the weather is kind of weird, there's an eerie stillness in the air, I have no plans and I'm not sure what to do with myself. This time instead of letting it grab me and pull me down into a heavy darkness, I said YES to it. Staring at my computer screen I felt my attention drawn to it in a whole new way. My mind said, "you and me Void, let's go." I left my desk and climbed on my bed for the face off.
As I sat and stared into nothing, the tears came. I felt like I was shedding something. The loss of myself, my innocence, who I thought I was, my goals and ambitions, my family and friends, and the delusion of me thinking that there's something out there other than this moment waiting for me. And then the tears passed, but I continued to sit and stare at it for what seemed like an hour. My eyes saw the leaves blowing in the wind and my ears listened to the birds chirping outside. My mind became still and gradually there was nothing but me and that moment. My mind wasn't trying to figure anything out, plan what I was going to do next, think about the past, make any speeches, label things. It wasn't anything other than what it was. Not beautiful, not ugly, not fun, or boring, not pleasant or unpleasant - it just was. Was this the nothingness that I've been so afraid of?
The idea of truth came up in my human design group last week. Everyone passed around the mic and gave their take on truth. It was ironic because it's something I've been contemplating a lot these days and I thought I would have a lot to say but I think I realized that most of what would come out of my mouth at that moment would be regurgitated Adyashanti and would not even be my own. (Open head and ajna). So I decided to just be quiet. I was present and still, just listening with as little judgment as possible to the others try to speak their own truth in that moment.
For me right now, Human Design is about rising above the ego, some might call it enlightenment but that word has been very distorted. It's about realizing that the mind is just a small part of something much greater that I am. It's about experimenting with it and living it. What I see is that no matter how much I learn about the details of this incredible system, no matter how much time I spend with a teacher or in classes, if I don't live it and prove that it's real for me, then none of the details matter. There are so many people who are talking about this stuff but not really living it. I won't tolerate hypocrites or being hypocritical myself anymore. (44.4)
I've got to find out what happens when the ego is no longer the driver. I want to be in the flow, not worrying about whether or not I'm making the right decision or hurting someones feelings. I want to live my purpose but not care whether that means baking bread or running a company. I believe it's possible and I'm not stopping until I "get there". But getting "there" isn't necessarily that easy and can take a long time. You either have to die or be dying, or really take the time to slow the f*** down and deconstruct yourself. I opted for the 2nd route. The choice was clear to me, it was either slow down and find my truth or keep suffering the disease of my mind while my health deteriorated. It's been about a year of de-conditioning now, and my life is very slow, simple, and quiet. I've transformed into a true (6/2) hermit - up on my roof, going in and out of sitting still mountain (52.2). feel much healthier than ever before.
Being alone and doing a lot nothing has allowed me to face myself without all the distractions of a busy life. There's been something so sacred in spending time with myself. And when I do go out in the world, I see how my awareness has heightened and with each interaction I can see and feel so much more below the surface. Sometimes, when I go out, there's a lesson or a new pointer to focus on and sometimes I'm in the flow and totally present to what is. The idea of time has a whole new meaning in the world I've created for myself.
The truth is I don't know the truth and I want to find it. There's this pull deep inside me to get to the bottom of something. I want to know with all my heart, what is this darkness that has knocked on my door for so long and how do I get rid of it? No matter where I go in the world, no matter what project I pursue or achieve, no matter who I'm with, it's always there, creeping along side me waiting to poke me and prod me. Granted, part of it is my design, I have melancholy which will always be there and it's influenced by the weather of the planets. But that's not a good enough explanation for me. There's something more to it. So I guess you could say I'm pursuing the melancholy - the nothingness. I'm kind of like Atreyu in the Neverending Story, pursuing the nothingness like it's the only thing that matters.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Instead of viewing my affinity for smoking herb as an enemy, I’m looking at her in a new light today. She is a medicine, here to simultaneously extract a mix of some things beautiful and some things tainted.
Mary Jane is my friend. I see the world in a new perspective; I see my mind in a new perspective. A gateway to another dimension is opened and new pieces of my puzzle fit into their places. I sink into my body and all my senses heighten to an 11. My creative mind rutts it’s lovely head.
Mary Jane is my foe. The oppression sneaks in (47.3), and reminds me of a differing perspective. That my writing sucks, that addictions are bad, that I can’t complete anything (53.2). My body follows, a sinking sensation in my gut, a tightness in the throat, heart beating faster. It’s an internal battle of right and wrong that the foe is winning at the moment.
What I also think that I think is that there is no such thing as good or bad in the scope of the universe and my true existence here on earth. The only reason my body has these negative reactions is because I am resisting what IS. To judge this moment as good or bad is only to give meaning to it and take me away from the present moment. Just as I judge others (18.4), so too I judge myself.
Addictions…they mess up your body, they cloud your mind, they spin you around and force you into a dark place. But perhaps this darkness isn’t so bad. What I can reflect on, is that these true moments of fear in my life have been necessary to see where growth in me is possible. What ever is exposed to the light is transformed by it. By isolating myself and de-conditioning from the world’s energy and agenda, I’m really able to step back and look at my mind. Today, I’m looking at my fears dead on, and I’m seeing my mind choose sides against me. Today, I’m laughing in its face.
It’s only a trap the mind is playing on me. It’s agenda is to keep me safely confined within the program of maya. For some reason, the program wants us to live in fear. And just like everyone else on this planet, I have been a victim to it.
I've been riding out these dark cloudy days and the sun has finally peaked through. I feel the program has shifted. My melancholy of yesterday is transformed into a creative muse of today. Letting it flow and riding it out is all I can do. After all, it's just chemistry.
– a visit to Jerry’s Fruitstand in Anahola
“Today’s a good day for a pineapple” he informs me as I browse the fruit. Without even skipping a beat I hear myself saying “that sounds good.”
If he had said "do you want some pineapple?" I probably would've said no thanks.
I love following recipes. Unfortunately, splenic authority is not about following a recipe. It feels like I’m writing a new recipe for a dish that’s never been created before, using ingredients I can’t even pronounce or know where to find. Sure there are guidelines, others have written their own recipe and I can learn about what they’ve done. But as a few of my brutally honest HD friends have pointed out, I keep looking for how to do this experiment in some outside authority. It’s something I’ve done my whole life. My mind desperately wants someone to give me the recipe to get me there, and get me there now. I know I can be incredibly impatient but it’s really not fair that pure sacral generators have an incredible tool to wake them up within weeks and I’m waiting around for some quiet little voice to tell me what to do. And God knows how long that will take to develop.
And while I wait, I discover my un-comfort with the present moment. Wanting, wanting, wanting to fill the ever-present void. This deep sense of the blackness of existence scares the hell out of me. It’s there, laughing at me way in the background all the time. I’m a master at pretending it’s not there. I’m addicted to sensations. Things like a beautiful nature scene, a strong salty or sugary taste, a yummy smell, a fantastic song, a soft fuzzy animal, a passionate kiss, an orgasm. If it tantalizes me in anyway, I want it. And for a moment, when I get what I want, I’m satisfied. Then the wanting starts again. My mind likes these distractions. It keeps it powerful.
My eyes are the most deceiving of sensations. They are so seemingly innocent but when they see something I’ve decided I like, my mind convinces me that the world is a beautiful place and everything is good. What I’ve realized is that my eyes serve as yet another way to put the delicious filling in the void cake. They help my mind identify with who I think is me. Having plans to go somewhere, do something, or eat something is also another great distraction for it allows me to live in the future. But whatever it is, as soon as I get it and the buzz fades, the blackness creeps in again and I’m reaching for the next thing.
I’m terrified. Slowly becoming nothing isn’t a roller coaster ride like my life used to be. I used to have ups and downs that made me feel like I was alive. It wasn’t always a fun ride, but at least it was a wild ride. Theses days I feel like I’m flat lining. There’s hardly an urge in me to be with the other. There’s very little inner guidance to even do anything, but it’s difficult to sit still and the pressure is always there to do something. If I don’t initiate or produce anything, I’m afraid I’ll be nothing. I’m floating in between the vast space of dreaming and wakefulness. I can’t go back now. What would I go back to? Pretending like I don’t know?
This fear that permeates the air I breathe gets thicker and I smell it around every corner. The fear that I’ll disappear. The fear that the Trista I thought I was isn’t even close to the Trista who just is. I thought I was creative, active, adventurous, funny, gregarious, and smart. I thought I was going to do great things and save the planet. I wanted and expected a lot. All of that is slipping away. I really have no clue who I am and I really don’t want to care anymore. There is my mind, strong as ever, the master over my identity and me. I just want to puke it up.
My HD reading is really messing with me because it's told me I can achieve perfection if I just follow my strategy and authority. If I inform people and listen to my intuition, I can live my true purpose. It’s all about possibilities. Possibilities are all about the future. However, if I focus on the future of possibilities, the more my mind thinks it has control and that I get to decide what I want. There's a constant battle of control between my mind and my body.
What I think I think I think today is that I can’t pursue trying to get somewhere, waking up just doesn’t work that way. But it’s there, dangling like a carrot in front of me, my lovely and scary human design chart. The superhero that I could be if I just surrender, and let it all go.