Four days of ceremony, one day of rest in between. They worked nights and rested during the day. ‘Five days of not doing any work? Here? On my home turf?’ He thought he was definitely going to struggle with that. Sometimes Pio would leave them mind-numbing tasks, like cleaning seeds. But mostly it was just napping, writing or hanging out around the hot spring pools digesting what had transpired through the night. At times there was vivid sharing, mostly they just assimilated on their own.
‘What do you do with your watercolor paintings?’
asked Vere – Pio’s wife – one day after he had painted two flowers. It had taken him years to start using colors again, to express himself artistically; this was a great achievement for him – he had never thought what was the next step. He wasn’t sure. He could add the Lord’s Prayer to one, he thought. He was on a trip of connecting to the most important things in his life, apparently his Christian roots were calling. Another participant, Sofia had recited one of her poems in the sweat lodge, which he really liked and she seemed lacking in confidence so he transcribed it onto one of the flowers and gifted it to her. She said it would go into her book. On the other flower he wrote a love letter to his wife.
Months later… a flashback they say could happen: during a floodgate of creativity and expression, he transcribed an ancient Egyptian poem onto a watercolor. Bedridden after having his appendix removed he wrote pages and pages like he hadn’t in years. He wrote about his eovcative dreams, desires, and even started a blog. All triggered by an “autobiographical, past-life” novel about an Egyptian priestess who delved into the dream world.
In his dreams David was a modern cowboy. Adopted by indians, fighting the good fight against the men in grey. Learning from the natives, coming to life within his body, entangled with the land. Awakening his senses, percieving the elements outside and within.
Another day resting in between ceremonies he found some cosmic-colored clay and decided to mold some of the spirit lessons he was receiving or digesting that week. One was a spirit animal – a bear: innocent, clumsy, large, friendly bear. For the other he was reminded of a class he sat in on: ‘Forms and Patterns in Nature’ a phenomenological/Goethian exploration. He had been asked to mold different pieces to represent transition or different phases of a being. About a year later, that day next to the pools, he molded different phases of the moon. A reminder in the sky to breathe in deep and then release, of the cyclicity of life. To allow himself transition.
Vere had highlighted the importance of creations and expression; she had worked through a lot of German-descent guilt and rigidity. She now had an easy smile, loose clothes, and was in the process of opening a Waldorf school in the jungle where they lived. Then there was the couple, the Venezuelan and her husband who had a brown t-shirt with two hands in prayer that David absolutely loved. She had her own beachwear clothing line and they organized gastronomical experiences in Playa del Carmen. She spent most of the ceremonies retching, but they spoke later of having amazing talks after the ceremonies that brought them closer together. David’s wife did not feel ready for the experience. He hoped before getting pregnant, now maybe in a year or two.
Next in the circle lay Carlos who had a permaculture farm in Oaxaca, and always had a lot of slightly annoying, philosophical questions during the ceremony, which Pio would go and answer in hushed voices. One day walking around the property with David, he gave a series of recommendations for working the land. ‘Plant ginger and tumeric under the guava trees’, was the one that stuck in David’s mind. Pepe had a local pizza chain, and seemed kind of out of place. Sofia was a poet. The receptionist had just recently gone through a tough divorce so she was invited to one of the ceremonies as well.
Lolo was 2nd in charge – he would impressively come out of trance and be at Pio’s beck and call – a spiritual assistant. He was always laughing at Pio’s jokes, when half the time no one else understand the doctor’s heavy South American accent. He was the only other person to dance during the ceremonies: ‘pasos prohibidos’ he called his moves. Forbidden dance moves: another lesson for the stiff cowboy’s body. This was something like Lolo’s 13th ceremony and he wasn’t anything like what would be called a ‘forever’ (forever lost in utopian bliss). He was a very down-to-earth guy with a bureaucratic job in Guadalajara. He also had an easy smile and was David’s favorite.
The work…
There are many Ayahuasca offerings – how to choose the right one? Pio came as a recommendation to David, the teacher of a teacher. ‘Impeccable’ was how she described his work. He became the standard used by David guarding the work being done on his property. As a shaman, Pio, had an amazing voice, was a great whistler, a theologian, and psychologist. Most importantly he was great at interpreting the visions and dreams of the night in the amazonian tradition. Farmer of trees in the Peruvian Amazon, his place sounded amazing. David’s wife was not agreeable to visiting him for a 13-day diet for their honeymoon.
‘Noches de la confusión’
They laid themsevles comfortably around the yoga shala, with mats and sleepings bags, and just the bare minimum amount of light necessary to be able to get to the bathroom okay. Avoiding the ceiling windows; the work is inwards, they wanted as little distraction from the outside as possible. Mumblings and chants. Icaros are ancient songs, in Pio’s case infused with Christian lore. The music brought visions. Neon threads weaved together by the singer, cradling like a lullaby, uplifting like a gospel. Only isolated words or phrases permeated. But a sense of sacredness percolated.
Drifting in and out… no, always conscious, like a lucid dream, or diving deep into a train of thought or feeling. Images would come up, like dreams to follow. Visions of corn husks, ‘Good, good…’ Others (worms and bugs underground) they were recommended to blow away, exhale, release and to follow another line of thought.
Years of therapy rolled into one night is how David described it later, wishing it for all his loved ones. Clarity as to what to do next in life, direct instructions, ToDo lists, he even came up with an entire letter he wanted to write to his wife. ‘I have to remember all this!’
He had never really felt close to the yoga shala his father had built. It had tons and tons of concrete, one wall was encrusted with large rocks excavated from the site, but to him it felt cold. The weaving of the ceremony gave him a new connotation to the room.
Outside the creek provided its worldly contention. At times David would walk to the glass-paned doors and sit, taking in the nightlife, feeling a pulsating energy from the dense jungle outside. Deep reflection accompanied with an acute awareness of one’s surroundings. Always coming back to the wisdom of the body and its organs of perception – stretching the muscles and the mind… dancing as a blessing… mudras to remind one how to think.
Realization after realization, harmony, unity, gratitude and a clear vision of destiny. Some things were less clear and needed interpreting. David became obsessed with his hair, massaging, tugging, and scratching through the night. A reminder of his sensuality? A flowing reminder to interact with the rest of the world?
After three days of ceremony, the limits of reality and the extent of magic were blurred. The limits on space and time seemed diffused, the difference between out and in blurred. ‘Maybe theoretic concepts are not such clean cut affairs…’ wondered David. There is poetry in confusion and unlearning.
An ode to ambiguity.
Is it this word or that? What’s the difference? Why spell it out? There is color in sound, and the edges are blended. There is communion in confusion. There is harmony in letting go.. Excitement down the rabbit hole. I only think I know what you mean, we can both be right. Question assumptions, explore uncertainty, embrace the unknown.
What is the antonym of discernment? Imprudence… naivety… silliness. Medicine for a person who grew up with a deep sense of right and wrong. Play.
Structure comes up short, David needed adjectives and surrealism to explain this reality. Reshaping, glorifying and resignifying. And he had desperate need for it.
Two years prior his father had passed away, and he assumed the leadership of the family business. The river that flowed through the property would slightly changes its course every year, a result of landslides and deforestation in the area. It became symbolic of the constant borderline chaos he was feeling. Pio suggested he re-signify his relationship to the river, he recommended David present it with a flower. By doing so, the untamable river became an object of devotion and inspiration. And with this act he took up the challenge of becoming the guardian the place required of him.
An awakening, to listen to what was beckoning from the world around, and the deep subconscious. The entire experience became a sensuous harkening. An ode to the mystical and lyrical. To the spiritual and to a grave but also light sense of urgency to attend what really matters.