My fourth week of ceremonies was all about confronting the doubting mind, and trusting myself. I saw how I always get the answers I need, and how often I second guess myself. I saw how frequently I "consult the oracle twice", and how riddled with confusion my mind often becomes when I am cut off from my instincts. I saw how easy it is to override the quiet voice of truth, and then continue searching for the answers as if I didn't hear.
I was challenged to acknowledge the mind who distorts the message, and that the answers are nearly always on my heart. I began to recognize the differences between the different voices in my head. My higher self/ God/ The Universe is not a dictator, but the ego is. The ego can mask itself as the Divine voice as well, and so can demons (symbolic for the shadows of ego to some). I realized I had another entity living inside me whose time had come to go.
I wound up having a second exorcism. It was not as intense, but it was much more drawn out, over several days, and really uncofortable the whole time. (In retrospect, I prefer hard and fast. Slow agony is not for me. I prefer to get it over with, and I know now that I'm strong enough to handle it consolodated! But I digress...) This entity carried many similar voices as the first one, but was smaller and less frightening. The contrast of it's voice was less apparent when provoked, and I was really caught in thinking his thoughts were me.
When I landed in the darkest place of self-judgment I've experienced so far, I finally decided go near other people, hoping it would at least shift my attention. I confessed my struggle to one friend who offered an ear, and it initiated the impending process. Eventually, there were five people around me as I was moving it out, (at times, quite fitfully). They were all giving me love and saying incredibly nice things to me, which was the perfect amount of contrast for me to see the being fighting them. With their encouragement and support, as well as using the skills I gathered from the last exorcism, I accomplished a lot.
Then someone suggested a shower, because the water is from the river, which helps us get the energy off after purging. Then someone went to get the Shaman, who brought me to his quarters and gave me a private clearing. It was amazing. I could see the energy hiding deeper inside of me in his presence, and felt it when it started to disperse. With my eyes closed, I could see him in full head dress. After a while, I was surprised to see myself in full shamanic garb as well, dancing and moving in strange ways, right in front of me.
I felt some relief until ceremony. I drank a full cup for the first time, (most people drink half a cup, and some three quarters), knowing I as ready to let this thing go. I had a really long ceremony of pain and feeling sick, and it wasn't until the Shaman and his main apprentice left the room that I finally purged it. What a relief that was!
Regarding eating habits, I have more work to do on this side of things now, as I need to correct again in the other direction of my new found freedom from dogma. The whole food issue got worse after it got better, especially after the exorcism. I moved right into working on addictions. I saw where I have been compelled to fill an emptiness with various things during my life, and how uncontrollable I have felt with food for a very long time.
There are so many dynamics with this subject that it warrants a separate entry all together. I will just say for now that I am working this out, and it is not fun, but I have full intention of letting it go, pronto. No one deserves to have this kind of battle as a lifestyle, and it's time to work it out.
I seem to have swung in the opposite direction with body image again again, but I see clearly how this is directly related to my actions. How I feel about what I do contributes a great deal to how I see myself. I notice it is a little better than before, though the back and forth is nothing new. I am ready to confront everything that is keeping this in tact, and move it out, too. I seem to have a to do list!
To keep myself from spiraling downward during the initial hard phase of this group, I made a deliberate effort to work it out actively. As a result, I had an artistic explosion! It started with water color painting, and moved to busting out the scissors for altering shirts, which I'd never done before I got here (so glad I came equipped!).
I made an old, unexciting t-shirt I had into an edgy, slinky blouse. Then two little girls in my group got excited and wanted one, so I made one for each of them. Then some of the women in my group caught on and wanted one, so I custom designed tops for each of them. They all love them! I'm going to make some for my Peruvian friends, too! I've also given a couple of haircuts since I've been here, and gotten smiles in return. It's a great feeling.
Dynamics between romantic relationships and my own creativity revealed themselves during ceremony week. I've seen how I have dispersed my creatitivity through romantic involvements, as both a way for me to express my passion when I have not believed myself capable of it artisticly, and a way for me to sabotage what I say I want in life by overspending my greatest commodity on things I don't need.
It was made clear that it would serve me to build a strong relationship with my creativity, which is my very soul, so that no external situations can thwart that expression. I can be in love with creation, and express myself in that way first. My art can be more than being a catharsis. This has symbiosis written all over it, if I can adjust here. In the long run, once I am solid with my primary impetus, I can think about adding to my life, but not to feed a deficit. I have seen where the deficits still hide, and where my weaknesses still live.
I hit the apex of these dramas on this break, and now it is all about making clear decisions. I have been challenged to give myself what I need first, which is all kinds of love in ways I never thought one could love herself. The more the darkness moves, and the more love I have for myself, the less I desire anything that is not truly aligned for me.
The patterns of behavior have begun to mellow slightly, and it's time to see them through with my will, which I am getting to know more and more. I have seen where I surrender, and where I resign. I have seen how resignation really just doesn't work. I have been challenged to show my committment to my purpose by getting in integrity with it. I hope to work the rest of this out in the remaining time of my process. I am sure I will have more to say on this as time goes on.
Honestly, it feels to me like this past group has been the most uncomfortable and difficult. Before this, I worked through amazing challenges, and struggled at times, but have at least moved forward consistently with very little time lapse. I backslid into old patterns, and feel as if I've been moving more like molasses. I'm being challenged to do a lot of work myself, restructuring and making clear decisions.
I am seeing where my weaknesses lie, and where I rebel, and pretty much all that remains from everything I've been working on so far, and then some! Suffice to say, I need to remember to breathe. I thought I broke through the ice over my head with the first exorcism, but this seems to be another of the big pushes of my seeming rebirth. Sometimes I feel like I'm getting squished, but I know that is an imporant part of strength building. (It hasn't always been easy to maintain optimism, but it feels important at the moment).
I am leaving tomorrow morning to go back to the village. I will be undertaking a new medicine, starting Monday night. This is an opportunity to work things on a level that I haven't yet. It is not concidered easy by any means, but I've seen the outcome is more than worth it. I will be heading back to the village a little early to spend some time with myself, and get ready. I'll see you on the other side.
Friday, July 23, 2010
The Half Way Point
Written July 12, 2010
My first week of ceremonies was about self-love and seeing my love starvation from a lifetime of depletion. It showed me my distance from people, the ways I was blocked off from love, and my yearning for connection. It showed me the deficits in my heart, and how I helped them stay alive. It showed me how all of this contributed to the infirmity in my body.
My second week of ceremonies was about guilt and punishment. It as about self worth, and my sense of deserving or not deserving. It showed me how thoroughly saturated my pours were with guilt, and how a self-punishment pattern also kept the infirmity intact.
I did a special plant diet during this week, which included an extra tea made of plant medicines selected by the Shaman to work specifically on the physical problems I've had. I had to stay in seclusion most of the eight days of the diet, with no reading, music, or other distractions. I ate an even more bland diet than our already bland diet, to aid in greater absorption of the medicines. This experience really amped up the progress I made in ceremonies.
There were several people on another special diet at the same time, and were the only people I could interact with for the first few days. This created a great opportunity to work through charges in friendship dynamics, and connect more deeply with others.
During the whole three weeks of those processes, I was also confronting fear and trauma that still lived in my head. The normal level of energy going towards this for me was revealed, and amplified substantially (as in past periods of stressful life change). I had opportunities to move a lot of that material out.
My third week of ceremonies was about self-esteem, self-judgment, and self-sabotage patterns. This was when the body image issues that have been a backdrop to my life (and that have been up the entire time I've been here) intensified, and beliefs about not being good enough surfaced. I relived an old self-harm pattern (by getting a haircut when I was already happy with what I had, and winding up feeling worse about myself as a result) which sparked an exorcism of a big demon who had been with me as long as I can remember.
I heard his voice that I had mistaken as myself for so long, and saw what it was feeding on inside of me. I had an opportunity to reclaim my power, necessary to accomplish the clearing. It was a delicate balance, requiring me to quickly gain skill and finess for harnessing surrender and will at the same time. With friends in the foyer holding space, and a friend by my side, calling in the spiritual artillary and guiding the way, I went into labor for four hours, and purged the demon.
At the usual anticipated time of this month, I did not get sick. I had been getting a sense it was changing all the while, and that I might be pleasantly surprised. I did not know the level of darkness I would purge right before the usual onset, however, but I am not surprised, considering the amount of pain I was in for so long. I got my moon (my affectionate name for menses) the day after the exorcism, a few days early, due to the hellish work accomplished. I am usually right on time, and this felt like another purge. It was gift that showed me my new freedom from pain.
For a whole day, I experienced myself how I imagine I truly am, with a real sense of peace and self-acceptance. I had a tranquil temperament, and was relating positively with the world around me. At the same time, I felt ready to do what I am here to do. Everything was as clear and normal as the sky. I felt relieved by the sense that there was no story anymore.
The next day, I went right back in to dealing with the darkness, though at nowhere near the same intensity. I saw the remenants of the negativity left in my mind, left from all the parts of me that patterned after the demon. I tumbled with them, with only a few moments of success. More has moved, and more has arisen. Nothing is completely gone yet, as I keep discovering deeper and deeper layers of the muck. It waxes and wanes in intensity. It is a work in progress.
I have had longer and longer periods of feeling beautiful and enjoying being in my body. I found myself moving and stretching, with more presence than I had when I was a young girl who felt compelled to dance alone in her room, just because it felt good. Getting to experience the joy of being embodied is something I could not have really imagined happening. I am grateful for those moments.
I have been working out beliefs about food since I got here, and dogma has cracked open. I've been over-correcting for a long stretch of extreme self-imposed restricion. This started right away, and has continued throughout my time here. I've been eating things I have not had in years. I have reveled in it, and let go of so many beliefs about right and wrong. This was such a huge, fear-based topic for me before, I am amazed at having had such a nice chunk of time feeling relaxed about it.
I have begun to feel a sense of belonging in the group, making friendships at a surprising level of depth and connection. Even the Shaman is interacting with me now, very playfully, after very little acknowledgment for my first two ceremony processes. I am sure this is a result of my own opening to love. It just goes to show how our level of openness and ability to receive influences what comes into our lives. Sometimes people are an amazing mirror for the way the universe works.
I have realized my soul purpose, not through some profound epiphany, but from a clear connection to the constant wish of my heart. If I really check in, I know I've never wanted to be anything else other than a musician. The answer was already there, I was just locked in a pattern of fear of loss, mascarading as fear of success, based in feeling unworthy of my good. I am now getting out of my own way, to make this a reality once and for all.
I have received so much encouragement from the people in my group, and from Peruvian friends in Iquitos as well. For example, one of my Australian friends said music is as obvious as my purpose as balls on a dog! Another friend made in the third ceremony week recognized my talent, and offered to help me get recorded when I get back to the states! A sweet girl from Poland likes to listen to the song over and over, and cry. My dearest Peruvian friend asks to hear the song repetedly, and said I am wasting my time doing anything else. Now that I am believing it for myself, I can actually hear these things and let them in. I've never lacked for encouragement, I just couldn't swallow it until now. I know now that I never have to justify or have any other reason for what I want, if the reason is for the love of it. Love and dreams need no checks and balances.
Romantic relationship patterns have been revealing themselves for the past several weeks, intensifying until broken through or restructured (like everything else that has come up). I have been working through all kinds of confusion and vacillation, and triangulation. I have been seeing the hungers and thirsts in me that help manifest the imbalances and subsequent troubles. I have experienced temptation on emotional and visceral levels, and I've seen my own weeknesses and shortcomings. I've had to pull up boundaries and strength for floodgates opening. I've seen how giving in has been a detriment to myself, and how harmful that has been to others. Integrity with my heart is important for peace with people in my life.
On a lighter note, I have experienced great heart-stretching, passion, and beauty as well. I have noticed a distinct lack of guilt for my joy for the first time in my life. I have seen how my relationship with myself and my own behaviors creates the bulk of my experience. I have begun to learn what a responsibility that is, and have made baby steps in taking it. This is a gift for me.
It has been a strong process, and I am still in the storm, but the peace is growing. I cannot imagine how things will be in another six weeks, but I do know I will be celebrating.
My first week of ceremonies was about self-love and seeing my love starvation from a lifetime of depletion. It showed me my distance from people, the ways I was blocked off from love, and my yearning for connection. It showed me the deficits in my heart, and how I helped them stay alive. It showed me how all of this contributed to the infirmity in my body.
My second week of ceremonies was about guilt and punishment. It as about self worth, and my sense of deserving or not deserving. It showed me how thoroughly saturated my pours were with guilt, and how a self-punishment pattern also kept the infirmity intact.
I did a special plant diet during this week, which included an extra tea made of plant medicines selected by the Shaman to work specifically on the physical problems I've had. I had to stay in seclusion most of the eight days of the diet, with no reading, music, or other distractions. I ate an even more bland diet than our already bland diet, to aid in greater absorption of the medicines. This experience really amped up the progress I made in ceremonies.
There were several people on another special diet at the same time, and were the only people I could interact with for the first few days. This created a great opportunity to work through charges in friendship dynamics, and connect more deeply with others.
During the whole three weeks of those processes, I was also confronting fear and trauma that still lived in my head. The normal level of energy going towards this for me was revealed, and amplified substantially (as in past periods of stressful life change). I had opportunities to move a lot of that material out.
My third week of ceremonies was about self-esteem, self-judgment, and self-sabotage patterns. This was when the body image issues that have been a backdrop to my life (and that have been up the entire time I've been here) intensified, and beliefs about not being good enough surfaced. I relived an old self-harm pattern (by getting a haircut when I was already happy with what I had, and winding up feeling worse about myself as a result) which sparked an exorcism of a big demon who had been with me as long as I can remember.
I heard his voice that I had mistaken as myself for so long, and saw what it was feeding on inside of me. I had an opportunity to reclaim my power, necessary to accomplish the clearing. It was a delicate balance, requiring me to quickly gain skill and finess for harnessing surrender and will at the same time. With friends in the foyer holding space, and a friend by my side, calling in the spiritual artillary and guiding the way, I went into labor for four hours, and purged the demon.
At the usual anticipated time of this month, I did not get sick. I had been getting a sense it was changing all the while, and that I might be pleasantly surprised. I did not know the level of darkness I would purge right before the usual onset, however, but I am not surprised, considering the amount of pain I was in for so long. I got my moon (my affectionate name for menses) the day after the exorcism, a few days early, due to the hellish work accomplished. I am usually right on time, and this felt like another purge. It was gift that showed me my new freedom from pain.
For a whole day, I experienced myself how I imagine I truly am, with a real sense of peace and self-acceptance. I had a tranquil temperament, and was relating positively with the world around me. At the same time, I felt ready to do what I am here to do. Everything was as clear and normal as the sky. I felt relieved by the sense that there was no story anymore.
The next day, I went right back in to dealing with the darkness, though at nowhere near the same intensity. I saw the remenants of the negativity left in my mind, left from all the parts of me that patterned after the demon. I tumbled with them, with only a few moments of success. More has moved, and more has arisen. Nothing is completely gone yet, as I keep discovering deeper and deeper layers of the muck. It waxes and wanes in intensity. It is a work in progress.
I have had longer and longer periods of feeling beautiful and enjoying being in my body. I found myself moving and stretching, with more presence than I had when I was a young girl who felt compelled to dance alone in her room, just because it felt good. Getting to experience the joy of being embodied is something I could not have really imagined happening. I am grateful for those moments.
I have been working out beliefs about food since I got here, and dogma has cracked open. I've been over-correcting for a long stretch of extreme self-imposed restricion. This started right away, and has continued throughout my time here. I've been eating things I have not had in years. I have reveled in it, and let go of so many beliefs about right and wrong. This was such a huge, fear-based topic for me before, I am amazed at having had such a nice chunk of time feeling relaxed about it.
I have begun to feel a sense of belonging in the group, making friendships at a surprising level of depth and connection. Even the Shaman is interacting with me now, very playfully, after very little acknowledgment for my first two ceremony processes. I am sure this is a result of my own opening to love. It just goes to show how our level of openness and ability to receive influences what comes into our lives. Sometimes people are an amazing mirror for the way the universe works.
I have realized my soul purpose, not through some profound epiphany, but from a clear connection to the constant wish of my heart. If I really check in, I know I've never wanted to be anything else other than a musician. The answer was already there, I was just locked in a pattern of fear of loss, mascarading as fear of success, based in feeling unworthy of my good. I am now getting out of my own way, to make this a reality once and for all.
I have received so much encouragement from the people in my group, and from Peruvian friends in Iquitos as well. For example, one of my Australian friends said music is as obvious as my purpose as balls on a dog! Another friend made in the third ceremony week recognized my talent, and offered to help me get recorded when I get back to the states! A sweet girl from Poland likes to listen to the song over and over, and cry. My dearest Peruvian friend asks to hear the song repetedly, and said I am wasting my time doing anything else. Now that I am believing it for myself, I can actually hear these things and let them in. I've never lacked for encouragement, I just couldn't swallow it until now. I know now that I never have to justify or have any other reason for what I want, if the reason is for the love of it. Love and dreams need no checks and balances.
Romantic relationship patterns have been revealing themselves for the past several weeks, intensifying until broken through or restructured (like everything else that has come up). I have been working through all kinds of confusion and vacillation, and triangulation. I have been seeing the hungers and thirsts in me that help manifest the imbalances and subsequent troubles. I have experienced temptation on emotional and visceral levels, and I've seen my own weeknesses and shortcomings. I've had to pull up boundaries and strength for floodgates opening. I've seen how giving in has been a detriment to myself, and how harmful that has been to others. Integrity with my heart is important for peace with people in my life.
On a lighter note, I have experienced great heart-stretching, passion, and beauty as well. I have noticed a distinct lack of guilt for my joy for the first time in my life. I have seen how my relationship with myself and my own behaviors creates the bulk of my experience. I have begun to learn what a responsibility that is, and have made baby steps in taking it. This is a gift for me.
It has been a strong process, and I am still in the storm, but the peace is growing. I cannot imagine how things will be in another six weeks, but I do know I will be celebrating.
Friday, July 9, 2010
The Medicine, Scalpel of Truth
An excerpt from my process last week:
I am writing about the medicine before it is all too immense to say anything at all. I could try and record all that has happened in the little over a month I have been here, but it would be tedius and ingenuine. Instead, I will write what is alive this moment. That is the offering I can make for now.
I've never been so humbled in all of my life. I've never felt pain so strong in my heart, or faced so much fear. I've never felt so lost or clueless. I've never seen so much darkness in my own self. I've never felt so weak and powerless, or so thick headed.
I never realized how stubborn I am, or how obstinant and arrogant. I never realized how young I am, how wreckless and afraid. I never knew how trapped in mind I've been, or how undisciplined. I never knew the extent to which I've dispersed my energy and creativity. I never realized how much pain I can bring another, or how selfish I can be, or needy. I never knew how I've floundered, and run, run, run away (or that my father was right about many things, even if his telling of the truth was unkind). I never knew how I've squandered myself, or what I've cost.
I never knew how insecure I've been, or how guilt-ridden. I never knew I was love-starved, and controlling. I never knew my own will was cutting me off from my good, and the universe, who has better ideas. I never knew how very little I knew.
I never knew I created everything myself. I never knew I made the bad things as limits on my power and success, because I felt unworthy of my good. I never knew I didn't even feel deserving of life, health, and happiness. I didn't know the degree to which I really cared less about living or dying. I never knew the extent to which I've stood in my own way. I never knew how deep the self-punishment ran. I never knew I would do to myself what I have done, just to drive it home.
If i could spend even some of the energy it has taken to keep all of this in place, I can't imagine how wonderful a life I could make.
In addition to the difficult revelation, there have been triumphs...
I've never felt so courageous before. I've never felt so strong, or so fierce. I've never felt so determined or driven. I've never felt so willing or able to let go. I've never felt so wild, or so free. I've never felt such power from my heart and soul. I've never seen this clearly, wanted to surrender so badly, or felt such reverence and respect. I've never stretched so far, grown so fast, or loved this much. I've never felt that everything before an event was leading straight to it, like this. I've never been this grateful.
I recently read a book, called The Mastery of Love, by don Miguel Ruiz. In the first and last chapters, he uses an analogy about humanities poison. He describes the medical procedure for treated infected wounds, (which is apro pos) for his previous career as a doctor. Ruiz says to fix the wound, one must use a scalpel to cut it open, antisceptic to clean it out, and medicine to help it heal. He says human beings in our culture [western] are walking around with emotional wounds, infected with poison that we pass on to each other. The spreading of the poison creates more wounds in those receiving it, which get infected with more poison, which gets passed on, etc.
Ruiz says to heal these wounds, we will use the same method. He says the scalpel is truth, the cleanser is forgiveness [letting go], and the ointment is self-love.
The medicne works on the same level. The medicine shows the truth about our selves, cleans it out by allowing us to be present and purge the energies trapped there (when we must be willing to let go), and invites us to love ourselves more. We have a chance to restructure the patterns to be more life serving. The clarity is a gift, as is the choice.
I am writing about the medicine before it is all too immense to say anything at all. I could try and record all that has happened in the little over a month I have been here, but it would be tedius and ingenuine. Instead, I will write what is alive this moment. That is the offering I can make for now.
I've never been so humbled in all of my life. I've never felt pain so strong in my heart, or faced so much fear. I've never felt so lost or clueless. I've never seen so much darkness in my own self. I've never felt so weak and powerless, or so thick headed.
I never realized how stubborn I am, or how obstinant and arrogant. I never realized how young I am, how wreckless and afraid. I never knew how trapped in mind I've been, or how undisciplined. I never knew the extent to which I've dispersed my energy and creativity. I never realized how much pain I can bring another, or how selfish I can be, or needy. I never knew how I've floundered, and run, run, run away (or that my father was right about many things, even if his telling of the truth was unkind). I never knew how I've squandered myself, or what I've cost.
I never knew how insecure I've been, or how guilt-ridden. I never knew I was love-starved, and controlling. I never knew my own will was cutting me off from my good, and the universe, who has better ideas. I never knew how very little I knew.
I never knew I created everything myself. I never knew I made the bad things as limits on my power and success, because I felt unworthy of my good. I never knew I didn't even feel deserving of life, health, and happiness. I didn't know the degree to which I really cared less about living or dying. I never knew the extent to which I've stood in my own way. I never knew how deep the self-punishment ran. I never knew I would do to myself what I have done, just to drive it home.
If i could spend even some of the energy it has taken to keep all of this in place, I can't imagine how wonderful a life I could make.
In addition to the difficult revelation, there have been triumphs...
I've never felt so courageous before. I've never felt so strong, or so fierce. I've never felt so determined or driven. I've never felt so willing or able to let go. I've never felt so wild, or so free. I've never felt such power from my heart and soul. I've never seen this clearly, wanted to surrender so badly, or felt such reverence and respect. I've never stretched so far, grown so fast, or loved this much. I've never felt that everything before an event was leading straight to it, like this. I've never been this grateful.
I recently read a book, called The Mastery of Love, by don Miguel Ruiz. In the first and last chapters, he uses an analogy about humanities poison. He describes the medical procedure for treated infected wounds, (which is apro pos) for his previous career as a doctor. Ruiz says to fix the wound, one must use a scalpel to cut it open, antisceptic to clean it out, and medicine to help it heal. He says human beings in our culture [western] are walking around with emotional wounds, infected with poison that we pass on to each other. The spreading of the poison creates more wounds in those receiving it, which get infected with more poison, which gets passed on, etc.
Ruiz says to heal these wounds, we will use the same method. He says the scalpel is truth, the cleanser is forgiveness [letting go], and the ointment is self-love.
The medicne works on the same level. The medicine shows the truth about our selves, cleans it out by allowing us to be present and purge the energies trapped there (when we must be willing to let go), and invites us to love ourselves more. We have a chance to restructure the patterns to be more life serving. The clarity is a gift, as is the choice.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Rio de Limpiamiento
An excerpt from my early process in Peru:
My grandmother always told me I was a cautious child. I would always do what adults told me to. I can only imagine why, but I don't remember being scared. In fact, I remember a sense of wonder, and having no trouble being alone. My mother tells me I wondered off a few times, making friends with strangers. I gave her a couple near heart-attacks with my innocent trust of others. I was carefree and imaginative. I suppose I remember being sensitive, however, so if someone I cared about told me not to do something, I did not want to dissappoint them. I always looked both ways before crossing the street, for instance.
Things changed a bit in my adolesence, but I still took chances. I did things other kids didn't do, like sneak out at night, ride motor cycles with rebels, and hang out with people much older than me, having mature conversations. I used a friend's ID a few times to get into clubs, and had no worries about getting caught, (and I didn't). I took some big risks, but I was smart, so I didn't overdo anything to the point that I'd get into trouble, or neglect my responsibilities. I had a mildly reckless abandon, far more sensible than the people I brushed shoulders with. I knew how to stretch boundaries without breaking them (with a few sad exceptions, but those lessons have been learned).
I out grew all of that pretty quickly, but I still did adventurous things. I remember dancing on rooftops for a short stint in Ohio, and the boys who watched me leap and spin, dirtying my legs to my knees with tar. I lived in Colorado for 6 months with my boyfriend because we thought we were soulmates. Things mellowed even more over the years, the more responsibilities I accrued. But even through my early twenties, I remember a fearlessness.
I remember whenever I spent time in nature, something within me would wake up. My instincts took over, and I found myself in rhythm with the earth. I could skip across rivers on rocks without blinking. I could climb trees and boulders, and hang out at the edges of cliffs where others would back away and fear for my safety. I would run in between trees in the forest with no hesitation. I trusted my gut, my impulses and the environment. I trusted my body to do what it needed to.
Somewhere along the way, I got scared. I don't know if it was the car accident, or the sickness that almost took me out, or the death of the biggest dream I've had in my life, but everything frightening I never really felt consciously caught up with me, and I stopped trusting myself. I stopped belieiving my body would or could do what was necessary to keep me safe. I stopped taking chances. I was no longer willing to risk losing what mattered to me.
My first week in the village of Peru, my guide took a couple of us to a special, semi-private beach. We had to walk a trail in the jungle and cross a log over a revene to get there. When it was my turn to cross, I hesitated, and almost turned back. I couldn't get a good grip on the wood with my sandals, and my legs wouldn't stop shaking. My companions encouraged me, and I took off my shoes to get a better grip. It worked, and very gingerly, I made it across. I was amazed by the fear I had to confront, just to walk across a log. I remembered what it was like to be fearless, and I missed it.
I made a commitment to myself, to reprogram the fear while I am here. Somehow, the medicine helped me. Before I knew it, crossing the log became no problem. In a matter of days, maybe a week, the fear of not making it was completely gone. And I don't wear those stiff sandals anymore, because I want to feel what is under my feet.
Another related fear came up my second week with the medicine. One day, a girl from my group came in from the river. She had been grabbed by a guy on her way back to the house. He was telling her not to leave, and wouldn't let her go. She got away with some force. As a result, a rule (or strong suggestion) was made not to go to the river alone. It was then that I became afraid of the men here. Very likely, the residual fear trapped in my subconscious from sexual trauma was unlocked, and it was time to let it go.
Day after day, I had visions of being attacked, and even raped. It wasn't extreme, but constant. The pictures would flash into my head so fast I couldn't remember the thought that sparked them. There was so much in a moment of my mind that I became acutely aware of, I was plagued by it. I took the fear with me to Iquitos, and it cut me off from connections with others. When we got back to the village, I walked in fear when alone, and was barely able able to stand being watched by the men.
One day, I was hoping to go to the river with someone. I was on a special diet with extra medicines, and the instructions were to stay away from people outside the center. One of our group invited me to go, so I jumped on it. When we got there, there were too many people, so I couldn't stay. I waited for the coast to be clear, and slipped away onto the path of the other beach, alone. I walked slowly, and listened for followers. There were none.
I crossed the log effortlessly. I continued to walk slowly, so I would not make any noise, but something happened. I realized by doing this, I could really experience my environment. Once I got to the spot, I was amazed at what it was like to be able to see it without another soul in sight. It was a new way to feel the beauty of it. The sun was perfect. It was just me, and nature. I'm not sure I have ever felt that before.
My caution kicked in. I walked to the furthest spot where I could hang my serong, thinking it would be faster to get to if strangers showed up. I put my shoes in the grass to be less visible. I walked into the water, and kept my eye on my surroundings. For half of the time I was there, I stayed on alert.
When I realized I was scared, I made a decision to deal with the fear. I sat in the water, and in the fear. I let it get as big as I could, trusting that the elements would support me. I called to the water, and the trees, and the clay, and told them I was going to trust them.
I let the river wash the fear away. The peace I felt was wonderful. I realized the trees and the reiver and the clay had helped me, so I thanked them. I sat in the gratitude instead of the fear, and opened into a graceful flow of love for my surroundings, and for my life. I remembered what it was like to be fearless.
I would have stayed longer, but I got a quiet message that it was time to go. I got out of the water, and took my time getting my things. I kept thanking my environment. I heard the trees tell me they would watch over me. I heard the river ask me to return. I felt the beautiful peace of confident stillness. I fell in love with the jungle.
I walked slowly back, along the trail, taking in everything I could with all of my senses, and enjoying the movement of my body. I felt harmony.
When I came out into the sun, I opened my arms in freedom. There was no fear in me, and not a soul around. I was alone, and in love. Every step home was perfect. I noticed I was breathing more fully than I have in a long time.
I got back to the house, and was still moving very slowly in my new-found peace. One of my housemates asked me how the river was. I said it was amazing. She asked if I went to the special beach, and I said yes. She asked if I went alone, and I said yes. Then she reacted with fear, saying, "You're not supposed to do that." Then the others who were around, one of which was the girl who was grabbed, joined in the warnings. The girl reminded me what happened to her.
I said, "It was very important for me to do what I did. I'm not going to take that story, and make a belief about it. I got tired of being afraid all the time, and it was time for me to confront the fear, so I did. I'm not going to cut myself off from experiences beacuase I'm living in fear. I really needed to do what I did today, and it was amazing for me."
The girl said, "Fair enough," and let it go. One of the others said she hadn't realized I was going through that, and she was glad nothing bad happened.
I told my guide about it later, and she was very excited for me. She said this is the kind of women we need to be. She said what happened to the other girl had never happened before. She said she had to inform people for liability reasons, but that she didn't want to affirm a fear. She said she goes alone all the time, and that she walks with "ass-kicking confidence", and no one messes with her.
I am walking with confidence now. I am not afraid.
As I write this now, those fears seem like a distant memory. The only part of me that remembers vividly is my body, and that is changing every day. The more I release the fear, the more upright I sit and stand. The more I remember who I really am, the more I walk deliberately with every step I take, saying yes to the moment. I am unfurling from myself, and opening up to life again.
My grandmother always told me I was a cautious child. I would always do what adults told me to. I can only imagine why, but I don't remember being scared. In fact, I remember a sense of wonder, and having no trouble being alone. My mother tells me I wondered off a few times, making friends with strangers. I gave her a couple near heart-attacks with my innocent trust of others. I was carefree and imaginative. I suppose I remember being sensitive, however, so if someone I cared about told me not to do something, I did not want to dissappoint them. I always looked both ways before crossing the street, for instance.
Things changed a bit in my adolesence, but I still took chances. I did things other kids didn't do, like sneak out at night, ride motor cycles with rebels, and hang out with people much older than me, having mature conversations. I used a friend's ID a few times to get into clubs, and had no worries about getting caught, (and I didn't). I took some big risks, but I was smart, so I didn't overdo anything to the point that I'd get into trouble, or neglect my responsibilities. I had a mildly reckless abandon, far more sensible than the people I brushed shoulders with. I knew how to stretch boundaries without breaking them (with a few sad exceptions, but those lessons have been learned).
I out grew all of that pretty quickly, but I still did adventurous things. I remember dancing on rooftops for a short stint in Ohio, and the boys who watched me leap and spin, dirtying my legs to my knees with tar. I lived in Colorado for 6 months with my boyfriend because we thought we were soulmates. Things mellowed even more over the years, the more responsibilities I accrued. But even through my early twenties, I remember a fearlessness.
I remember whenever I spent time in nature, something within me would wake up. My instincts took over, and I found myself in rhythm with the earth. I could skip across rivers on rocks without blinking. I could climb trees and boulders, and hang out at the edges of cliffs where others would back away and fear for my safety. I would run in between trees in the forest with no hesitation. I trusted my gut, my impulses and the environment. I trusted my body to do what it needed to.
Somewhere along the way, I got scared. I don't know if it was the car accident, or the sickness that almost took me out, or the death of the biggest dream I've had in my life, but everything frightening I never really felt consciously caught up with me, and I stopped trusting myself. I stopped belieiving my body would or could do what was necessary to keep me safe. I stopped taking chances. I was no longer willing to risk losing what mattered to me.
My first week in the village of Peru, my guide took a couple of us to a special, semi-private beach. We had to walk a trail in the jungle and cross a log over a revene to get there. When it was my turn to cross, I hesitated, and almost turned back. I couldn't get a good grip on the wood with my sandals, and my legs wouldn't stop shaking. My companions encouraged me, and I took off my shoes to get a better grip. It worked, and very gingerly, I made it across. I was amazed by the fear I had to confront, just to walk across a log. I remembered what it was like to be fearless, and I missed it.
I made a commitment to myself, to reprogram the fear while I am here. Somehow, the medicine helped me. Before I knew it, crossing the log became no problem. In a matter of days, maybe a week, the fear of not making it was completely gone. And I don't wear those stiff sandals anymore, because I want to feel what is under my feet.
Another related fear came up my second week with the medicine. One day, a girl from my group came in from the river. She had been grabbed by a guy on her way back to the house. He was telling her not to leave, and wouldn't let her go. She got away with some force. As a result, a rule (or strong suggestion) was made not to go to the river alone. It was then that I became afraid of the men here. Very likely, the residual fear trapped in my subconscious from sexual trauma was unlocked, and it was time to let it go.
Day after day, I had visions of being attacked, and even raped. It wasn't extreme, but constant. The pictures would flash into my head so fast I couldn't remember the thought that sparked them. There was so much in a moment of my mind that I became acutely aware of, I was plagued by it. I took the fear with me to Iquitos, and it cut me off from connections with others. When we got back to the village, I walked in fear when alone, and was barely able able to stand being watched by the men.
One day, I was hoping to go to the river with someone. I was on a special diet with extra medicines, and the instructions were to stay away from people outside the center. One of our group invited me to go, so I jumped on it. When we got there, there were too many people, so I couldn't stay. I waited for the coast to be clear, and slipped away onto the path of the other beach, alone. I walked slowly, and listened for followers. There were none.
I crossed the log effortlessly. I continued to walk slowly, so I would not make any noise, but something happened. I realized by doing this, I could really experience my environment. Once I got to the spot, I was amazed at what it was like to be able to see it without another soul in sight. It was a new way to feel the beauty of it. The sun was perfect. It was just me, and nature. I'm not sure I have ever felt that before.
My caution kicked in. I walked to the furthest spot where I could hang my serong, thinking it would be faster to get to if strangers showed up. I put my shoes in the grass to be less visible. I walked into the water, and kept my eye on my surroundings. For half of the time I was there, I stayed on alert.
When I realized I was scared, I made a decision to deal with the fear. I sat in the water, and in the fear. I let it get as big as I could, trusting that the elements would support me. I called to the water, and the trees, and the clay, and told them I was going to trust them.
I let the river wash the fear away. The peace I felt was wonderful. I realized the trees and the reiver and the clay had helped me, so I thanked them. I sat in the gratitude instead of the fear, and opened into a graceful flow of love for my surroundings, and for my life. I remembered what it was like to be fearless.
I would have stayed longer, but I got a quiet message that it was time to go. I got out of the water, and took my time getting my things. I kept thanking my environment. I heard the trees tell me they would watch over me. I heard the river ask me to return. I felt the beautiful peace of confident stillness. I fell in love with the jungle.
I walked slowly back, along the trail, taking in everything I could with all of my senses, and enjoying the movement of my body. I felt harmony.
When I came out into the sun, I opened my arms in freedom. There was no fear in me, and not a soul around. I was alone, and in love. Every step home was perfect. I noticed I was breathing more fully than I have in a long time.
I got back to the house, and was still moving very slowly in my new-found peace. One of my housemates asked me how the river was. I said it was amazing. She asked if I went to the special beach, and I said yes. She asked if I went alone, and I said yes. Then she reacted with fear, saying, "You're not supposed to do that." Then the others who were around, one of which was the girl who was grabbed, joined in the warnings. The girl reminded me what happened to her.
I said, "It was very important for me to do what I did. I'm not going to take that story, and make a belief about it. I got tired of being afraid all the time, and it was time for me to confront the fear, so I did. I'm not going to cut myself off from experiences beacuase I'm living in fear. I really needed to do what I did today, and it was amazing for me."
The girl said, "Fair enough," and let it go. One of the others said she hadn't realized I was going through that, and she was glad nothing bad happened.
I told my guide about it later, and she was very excited for me. She said this is the kind of women we need to be. She said what happened to the other girl had never happened before. She said she had to inform people for liability reasons, but that she didn't want to affirm a fear. She said she goes alone all the time, and that she walks with "ass-kicking confidence", and no one messes with her.
I am walking with confidence now. I am not afraid.
As I write this now, those fears seem like a distant memory. The only part of me that remembers vividly is my body, and that is changing every day. The more I release the fear, the more upright I sit and stand. The more I remember who I really am, the more I walk deliberately with every step I take, saying yes to the moment. I am unfurling from myself, and opening up to life again.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Safe Arrival, Delightful Adventure
Life was busier than I could have imagined while trying to prepare for this trip, and I didn't have a chance to write. All kinds of little unforeseen challenges happened in succession, and it felt like I was wading through peanut butter to get things accomplished. Strangely, the struggle did not come from anywhere I was expecting, and I covered a lot of bases. But they say this is how it works.
To say more, a friend who is helping to guide me while I am here told me many who come to do this level of inner work experience a kind of test, to make sure they are ready. She also said many of the dark energies living inside us who are about to be expelled do not want us to succeed, and can become meddlesome. She said it most often comes in the forms we are not anticipating. This sounds a lot like most big spiritual work to me, especially when it comes to purging the shadows. It´s sort of a right of passage. But honestly, even as I write this, the entire perspective is changing, and these words just don't do the trick. Everything is so much more than it seems.
Nevertheless, I nearly missed my flight, but I made it in perfect time. It wasn't until I got to the gate in Florida for my flight to Lima that I started to realize what I was doing. Very few people were speaking English anymore, and all airline communications started to be in Spanish first, and English second. I liked that.
Iquitos is a bustling, busy place, with Moto-taxis everywhere! I´m actually back there now, after a little over a week in the village, and am a little more acclimated this time. The night life is awesome, with a market that comes alive at night, and a beautiful fountain in the main square. There are people on stilts and some in costumes, and all kind of people out and about. I like the place better at night. The lights do something special to it, and the energy wakes up in a way that is easier to handle.
I stand out rather significantly as a tourist, and very few people with something to sell miss it. Local people hand make artisan jewelry and textiles. In Iquitos, they carry them around and stop to display them for you in hopes you will like something enough to buy it. This is their livelihood. One young man who spoke English talked with me today, when I remarked on the craftsmanship. He told me about the President in Peru. He said it is not a good situation for the people, and that this is the best way to make a living for them. I want to read up on the situation here to understand it better.
It was a 3 hour speed boat ride to get to Jenaro Hererra, and I got a nice sunburn. I have been out on the boat again, and managed to get another sunburn where my last one was healing and peeling. From now on, it´s sunhat and long sleeves when out on the boat! My friend who helped me prepare for this trip even warned me about this, but I just didn´t register how different the sun is here! I´m usually a one burn per summer person, and the rest is tanning. Not so much around here! Lesson learned!
I have to say, crispy or not, the boat rides are incredible! The river is the largest body of water I´ve seen outside of the ocean. Apparently, it splits near Iquitos. One way is the Amazon, and another way forks off, which is what we take to get to the village. The water is often brown, due to the tannins from the trees. If you swim in certain parts of it, you will get it on your skin. It looks kind of like rust. Other times, when the light is right, the water reflects the sky... And the skies are so beautiful it is hard to believe they are real. I didn´t bring my computer to Iquitos this time, but next time, I will show you some photos, and you will see!
I confess that aside from the skies, my favorite thing about the village is the children! There are so many! And they love to see foreigners so much that many will come running up and take our hands and walk with us! They love to get their pictures taken, especially if you show them afterward! Their smiles are so big and precious. They are so happy! They love to play, and are so cute it´s hard to hold it inside! They also play the "Hola game" where they say, "Hola," and wait for you to say it back, and then they say it back, and so on, as long as you will participate! We all love it!
The other travelers who are in the group I am in are neat. As with anywhere, there is strong resonance with some more than others, but everyone gets along great, and there is a lot of cooperation and sharing. Everyone looks out for one another. I really appreciate it, especially being in a foreign country.
Internet in the village was down by the time I got there. To be honest, it was perfect, because I needed to take some time to myself to adjust to my new circumstances. Also, I´ve been surprised to discover that I haven´t had a lot to say lately. I´ve been taking quite a few pictures, and otherwise just taking everything in. Outside of the occasional engaging one on one conversation, I´ve found myself relatively quiet.
Although I am often immersed in a small group of English speaking people, I think I´ve been quite humbled by not speaking the language of my environment. It has been an attitude adjustment, which I am grateful for, and is a likely contributor to my introversion. I admit to having a bit of guilt for coming here without that level of preparation, but I value my need for healing high enough to be here anyway. Though I know I will never really comprehend it fully, I am beginning to imagine to a very small degree what it might be like for immigrants in my own country. It has been amazing to experience communication that transcends words, however, and I am moved by how willing the people here are to try. Most are patient, and gracious.
My least favorite thing is the bugs! It is mosquito city in the jungle! My bug repellent doesn´t really work, so I don´t even bother most of the time. I just deal with it, and try to cover up during peek hours. But there is another culprit I did not know about...
One day I put on a pair of pants, and I kept getting bites on my legs. It took me a while to figure out what was happening, and I mentioned it to someone. He recently had the same thing, and said they were these tiny little ants that you can´t see! Apparently, they are too fast to catch! I ran back to my room and took off all my clothes, put them in the laundry, and took a shower. It stopped. I asked around and it seems that is what it was, which means I can now say I had ants in my pants! Those buggars have a mean bite for being so small!
The food is different, and I was very surprised to discover that vegetables are kind of hard to come by. I have enjoyed fried plantains, though! And fresh coconuts right out of the tree! I´ve had to shift things a bit and eat things I wouldn´t normally eat, but it´s going alright. I think the medicine is helping in that way, as well as others, but that is another topic I am not quite ready to delve into just yet. I will, though, when the time is right.
To say more, a friend who is helping to guide me while I am here told me many who come to do this level of inner work experience a kind of test, to make sure they are ready. She also said many of the dark energies living inside us who are about to be expelled do not want us to succeed, and can become meddlesome. She said it most often comes in the forms we are not anticipating. This sounds a lot like most big spiritual work to me, especially when it comes to purging the shadows. It´s sort of a right of passage. But honestly, even as I write this, the entire perspective is changing, and these words just don't do the trick. Everything is so much more than it seems.
Nevertheless, I nearly missed my flight, but I made it in perfect time. It wasn't until I got to the gate in Florida for my flight to Lima that I started to realize what I was doing. Very few people were speaking English anymore, and all airline communications started to be in Spanish first, and English second. I liked that.
Iquitos is a bustling, busy place, with Moto-taxis everywhere! I´m actually back there now, after a little over a week in the village, and am a little more acclimated this time. The night life is awesome, with a market that comes alive at night, and a beautiful fountain in the main square. There are people on stilts and some in costumes, and all kind of people out and about. I like the place better at night. The lights do something special to it, and the energy wakes up in a way that is easier to handle.
I stand out rather significantly as a tourist, and very few people with something to sell miss it. Local people hand make artisan jewelry and textiles. In Iquitos, they carry them around and stop to display them for you in hopes you will like something enough to buy it. This is their livelihood. One young man who spoke English talked with me today, when I remarked on the craftsmanship. He told me about the President in Peru. He said it is not a good situation for the people, and that this is the best way to make a living for them. I want to read up on the situation here to understand it better.
It was a 3 hour speed boat ride to get to Jenaro Hererra, and I got a nice sunburn. I have been out on the boat again, and managed to get another sunburn where my last one was healing and peeling. From now on, it´s sunhat and long sleeves when out on the boat! My friend who helped me prepare for this trip even warned me about this, but I just didn´t register how different the sun is here! I´m usually a one burn per summer person, and the rest is tanning. Not so much around here! Lesson learned!
I have to say, crispy or not, the boat rides are incredible! The river is the largest body of water I´ve seen outside of the ocean. Apparently, it splits near Iquitos. One way is the Amazon, and another way forks off, which is what we take to get to the village. The water is often brown, due to the tannins from the trees. If you swim in certain parts of it, you will get it on your skin. It looks kind of like rust. Other times, when the light is right, the water reflects the sky... And the skies are so beautiful it is hard to believe they are real. I didn´t bring my computer to Iquitos this time, but next time, I will show you some photos, and you will see!
I confess that aside from the skies, my favorite thing about the village is the children! There are so many! And they love to see foreigners so much that many will come running up and take our hands and walk with us! They love to get their pictures taken, especially if you show them afterward! Their smiles are so big and precious. They are so happy! They love to play, and are so cute it´s hard to hold it inside! They also play the "Hola game" where they say, "Hola," and wait for you to say it back, and then they say it back, and so on, as long as you will participate! We all love it!
The other travelers who are in the group I am in are neat. As with anywhere, there is strong resonance with some more than others, but everyone gets along great, and there is a lot of cooperation and sharing. Everyone looks out for one another. I really appreciate it, especially being in a foreign country.
Internet in the village was down by the time I got there. To be honest, it was perfect, because I needed to take some time to myself to adjust to my new circumstances. Also, I´ve been surprised to discover that I haven´t had a lot to say lately. I´ve been taking quite a few pictures, and otherwise just taking everything in. Outside of the occasional engaging one on one conversation, I´ve found myself relatively quiet.
Although I am often immersed in a small group of English speaking people, I think I´ve been quite humbled by not speaking the language of my environment. It has been an attitude adjustment, which I am grateful for, and is a likely contributor to my introversion. I admit to having a bit of guilt for coming here without that level of preparation, but I value my need for healing high enough to be here anyway. Though I know I will never really comprehend it fully, I am beginning to imagine to a very small degree what it might be like for immigrants in my own country. It has been amazing to experience communication that transcends words, however, and I am moved by how willing the people here are to try. Most are patient, and gracious.
My least favorite thing is the bugs! It is mosquito city in the jungle! My bug repellent doesn´t really work, so I don´t even bother most of the time. I just deal with it, and try to cover up during peek hours. But there is another culprit I did not know about...
One day I put on a pair of pants, and I kept getting bites on my legs. It took me a while to figure out what was happening, and I mentioned it to someone. He recently had the same thing, and said they were these tiny little ants that you can´t see! Apparently, they are too fast to catch! I ran back to my room and took off all my clothes, put them in the laundry, and took a shower. It stopped. I asked around and it seems that is what it was, which means I can now say I had ants in my pants! Those buggars have a mean bite for being so small!
The food is different, and I was very surprised to discover that vegetables are kind of hard to come by. I have enjoyed fried plantains, though! And fresh coconuts right out of the tree! I´ve had to shift things a bit and eat things I wouldn´t normally eat, but it´s going alright. I think the medicine is helping in that way, as well as others, but that is another topic I am not quite ready to delve into just yet. I will, though, when the time is right.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Spending Tokens of a Story I Am Laying to Rest
During my first hospitalization in 2002, a strange ritual began. My boyfriend at the time gave me a Susan B. Anthony dollar. It was a kind of honoring, and token for my trouble, with a somewhat light-hearted intent to appeal to my sentimentality. This would continue for every other hospitalization I would experience for the duration of our relationship. I had a nice collection by the end of it. I was hospitalized more after that, but did not carry on the tradition.
While packing for my upcoming move today, I came across a bag of coins of varying types. The dollars were there, about 5 of them. I don't know how long it has been since I've seen them, at least a few years, but I made a decision; I was going to spend them.
Sure enough, I did just that. In this time of trying to raise money for my journey, I am not finding myself in a situation to spend on luxuries. But tonight, I took myself to dinner. Yes, I spent those dollars on a healthy meal at a local cafe. It was very liberating, as if I was setting something free. And I was. I let loose some old memories with an identity locked away in them.
It is time to move on. That is exactly what I am doing.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Beginning of the Journey
Hello. I just opened this blog to begin tracking my journey. I am leaving the United States and heading to Peru on May 27. I will be gone for 3-6 months, working with plant medicine in the Amazon jungle, in order help myself heal. I will be writing much more very soon, so that my friends, family, and sponsors can be along for the experience. For now, I am moving in 6 days, and have much to do before then, so I must get to work. I will be adding articles, links, pictures, journal entries, essays, and other trinkets as we go along. Thank you very much for being here with me.
Love and light,
~Season
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