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OK, so onto Sunday.
I awoke, as ever, completely refreshed and feeling like nothing short of a gazillion bucks. Really well rested, beautifully limber, and ready for round 2. Bring it on!
Sundays work was to begin a bit later at 2pm, in a new venue, this one really big and airy, white, with lovely real wood floors, a whole wall of windows, so loads of natural daylight, and a gorgeous big garden outside. It was a simple square hall, so no little coves like the day previous.
Loads of faces from the previous day, and a few new ones as well as some from past works who didn't make it to the previous day. I felt really comfortable with everything today, and hooked up with a few friends I hadn't seen for some months. Felt good, One lovely lady had brought along her son for the first time (he had expressed interest), and was a bit nervous about it, so we had a good chat. Soon enough it was time to form the lines, say the opening prayers and begin.
The opening and closing prayers have to be heard to be believed. A chorus of Portugese beauty, recited in a beautiful 'drone' like chant, begininng about 3 tomes higher than each quatrain ends, a truly hypnotic and beautiful appeal to the patriarchs, matriarchs, angels, archangels, holy virgin mother, father, son, holy ghost and jesus christ etc...I never found this to be objectionable, as some have...I myself have no formal 'faith' or doctrine, and am largely suspicious of organised religion whithout such direct particpatory revelation, but some first-timers have expressed their wariness of the 'religious' aspects, which to me is patently ridiculous. These are symbols of the Good, of Life and Holiness, and inevitable considering the context in which the sacrament is grown. Brazil is a hugely Catholic country...if the Vine were native to Middle Asia, no doubt the mythology in which the ritual is placed would be appropriate to that, these are just metaphors for the unnameable which everyone is about to meet and be (re)absorbed into...Anyway. It also lends a wonderfully 'proper' magical taste to the whole thing - since I don't speak portugese very well, it has that air of real witchery and spell casting.
The drink came around, and todays brew was absurdly frothy, almost fizzy - it was the freshest batch, finished its long brewing procedure just days before and flown straight from Brazil in the Forest to our very mouths! Yummy. I drank it and loved it. the taste has become something I savour, like a fine port, though some find it disgusting. It's bloody strong. I find it feels pretty much as you expect it to before drinking...if you anticipate something nasty, that's what you'll get, if you plan to savour and enjoy it, it can be exquisite. The latter is my choice.
Sunday was a sing through of the Oracao (Oor-ah-saow), a powerful hymn book. Three guitarists, one mandolin, and the squeezebox. To begin with, there is no percussion. Just these beautiful hymns, and the music. Phenomenal, phenomenal musicians, they're ability alone is a teacher all of it's own...These people who have dedicated som much of their lives to becoming so accomplished at such arts. Many of them are true multi-instrumentalists, with a Shakuhachi flute appearing in the hands of one at regular intevals and adding ammazing new flavours to the tunes with its swooping, plaintive spell. Gorgeous.
As usual, on day 2, the effect of the sacrament is far quicker acting, and pretty quickly the wood floors of the hall became a seething, breathing snakeskin. It is both lizardlike and insectoid, the ayahuasca intelligence. A preying mantis reptilian intelligence, with feathery antennae, and orange/green/aquamarine/blue. Very leafy, forest dwelling. It is quite alien.
I had great ecstatic joy and was really grooving within about 30 minutets. I love dancing anyway, old rave casualty that I am, and I absolutley dig finding wyrd little polyrhythms inside the Oracao...expressing as much as possible by varying the regimented dance rhythm, left 4, right 4, left 4, right 4, occasional waltz-step tunes, 123,123 and sopmetimes swift shifts from 4/4 to 2/4 and back..I cracked up watching some newbies completely trip over their own concentration trying to keep up, remembering my own fascination with it...It is something like a level-test, a n examination of attention, can you keep up? And when you can, you progress.
After about 45 minutes, though I may be confused as to the timeline, I believe we drank again. Yummy. The smiles were all around, and off we continued. This was when the shit really started moving though. Without any fanfare or awkwardness, in the middle of one of my favourite tunes, suddenly all humour left me...my smile suddenly felt inappropriate, and I frowned slightly to examine what was occurring. Aya is like a voice, sometimes ahost of voices, both in and yet at the same time of your head. A teacher, very gentle, leading you according to your own preparedness. This felt like a very important moment.
And suddenly, without volition, I had to pray. To recap - I am not 'religious', whatever, that means...Check my posts in the Ganesh thread of yestermonth, 'Do You Believe In God?'...plain as the nose on the ned of your face...But I had to pray, and I mean PRAY. My hands were in the trad. position, and a little nudging encouragement showed me a more 'correct' form for my diplsay of the union, the one, the left with the right, anima with animus, the dual made whole that that hand clasp symbolises...hands together, elbows wide, thumbs extended and tucked under the chin, forefinger and index touching the third-eye, eyes closed, careful not to cover the nostrils with the hands. And hold.
I wondered where the mirth had gone, and was instructed in no uncertain terms that this was no moment for piss arsing around. Pay respect. And - get this - I had to drop to my knees. Slowly, not dramatically, but I was in the presence of something utterly fucking incomprehensibly cast and beautiful to the point of tears, and enormous and so so so ancient, I was forced into the deepest solemnity. not sadness, not fear, but complete silent, abased, respectful supplication and solemnity. It was the most humbling (Gua 15, remember) 'experience', for want of a better word, I have ever been a party to. Humble. That was all I could think as well, like a sigil in the brain - Humble. Nothing. Everything. You are tiny. Be silent. Bear witness to this. Remember. Pay respect. I mean, balls to bones, right in the molecular spirals of the DNA R_E_S_P_E_C_T. I felt it would have been appropriate to weep, though I didn't. I could have. It was my choice. I felt a whole flood of 'religious' feelings and descriptions couched in pure Christian terms - penitence, penance, repentance, I was internally pleading to be forgiven my sins!! Fuck me! And as sson as I asked, I was given. It was that easy. Spooky shit, for me. I'm bloody kneeling down in the presence of a Huge Indiffernet Juggernaut of Immensity tht is BEyond Comprehension, begging forgiveness for nothing in particular!! Bloody, er, Heaven.
And then, as soon and swiftly as it had come, it passed. Like a big door opening, and letting floodwater through. I opened my eyes, only then becoming aware of my posture and prayer action...And on the snakeskin floor in front of me, a bloody trap door and stairs leading fuck knows where!!
Wowzers. This was a beauty. The trap door was gone. I got back in the lines and carried on dancing like my life depended on it. It was beautiful. The joy was back in full effect, and my lessons were under way. It is daft to say 'this occurred to me' and 'that occurred to me' because that is not how it feels...It is more like a gentle, indistinguishable from your own but still decidedly 'other' internal voice, which changes often in tone, gender and authority, whispers these sweet nothings in your psychic ear. Hard to put in words, that's not it, but close ebough.
So, I was told that the songs are like lullabies, enchantments for the guardians of the doors that keep the HUGENESS from engulfing you. Far from being keys to open the doors, they are more like soothing instructions to keep them shut until the time is right, and the order is correct. the order is essential...This was a very fleeting thing, but it made great sense...the structure of the apparatus is about controlling the journey, not speeding it along...I felt great satisfaction from my teachers that I was allowing all this through without any resistance, no opinion...Beginners Mind. I was an open book, and these entities were filling the pages. They were without any doubt beningn and helpful.
Next mad thing...My hands were up and my fingers doing their extraordinary workout...'I' looked down, detached and amused, and was struck (informed) that I was typing!! I looked close, and fuck me if there wasn't a weird little ergonomic keyboard there! I have NEVER been this deep before in the Aya-Space...I was in Wonderland! I was typing like a touch typist London Square Mile 120 WPM secretary, and started laughing at my own proficiency. I even performed a few old-fashioned typewriter carriage returns, Shick-CHING! I made something of a performance out of it. 'My' 'Mind' (haha) asked what was going on, and my little helpers told me I had been given Administrator Privileges over my source code, and was decompiling and recompiling the operating system. Wha? Just let it be. Do it. It also 'occurred' to 'me' that I was programming some Trojans, and Worms, for activation later, when I was back in LowSpace. Good ones. Helpful little subroutines for everyday living. Sweet Jesus, and no mistake.
It got to the middle of the afternoon, a really beautiful sunny day, and it was time for the (haha!) 'break'. As usual, neat joints of Santa Maria (weed) were distributed,a nd everyone formed circles, the women on their side, the men on theirs.
I took a wander outside, and found myslef a seat, and sat listening to the birdsong and quiet play of the afternoon. It was sublime. Perfect. Unchangeably Heaven. I suddenly had the sensation I was a pension age Chinese fisherman, sitting on a lovely sunny day by a river bank, considering fishing, but generally just whistling a happy tune and letting a perfect day take its course without interfering too much. It cracked me up. The Santa Maria helped, making me and a few others have a jolly good giggle. there are lovely Santa Maria songs as well,a nd these struck up. The percussion was in full effect by now, and effect beautiful.
My female issues of the previous day were totally done with, and I was really enjoying the beautiful (and I mean, sheesh) Brazilian girls hither and thither...Also, the kids there were being their usual demented selves, causing great amusement, with regular cries of 'VIVA!' followed by general mirth from all assembled. It was one of the most memorably pleasant meories of my recent life.
At about this time I became aware of one of our [members] having great trouble, a guy I didn't know. He was in deep shit, to be honest. It took four guys to hold him down and control him. his eyes were totally white, he was breathing in a crazy way, and struggling in a wrthing, spastic fashion. It was pitiful to see. He was not in the spirit of surrender, clearly.
you cannot, at all, fight the [brew]. You must receive whatever it has to give you. If you try to fight it, it will fucking squash you. You are not even fractionally big enough. This poor sod clearly hadn't sussed it, and was desperately holding onto something very painful that he should have let go. It was sad, and I sent huge flows of whatever help I could. It isnot uncommon, but was the first time I had seen someone really fucked up from the drink. Anyway, there was no cause for overreacting concern, it would sort itself out. The poor creature.
When this shit goes down, songs are brough in with real fervour. Everyone starts clapping mad rhythms, and it really takes on a Shamanic healing vibe. A circle formed around him, with shekere and perc and people giving it real welly. he started to calm down. i was in there, clapping a slow and slowing heart beat within the rhythms, really feeling the need to help this dude.
It's a strange thing as well, that stuff about the old Chinese man. The ceremony feels incredibly Hebrew at times, for whatever reason (the mythology helps of course)..but its more than that...the shape of the songs, the melodise, are very Hebrew sounding. yeah. Hebrew Magic. Visions aplenty of old mages and sages in headdresses and white robes with purple / black stripes, down the ages, doing this exact shit. And then Egyptian, it can take on quite Egyptian flavours as well, in and of itself. And my own Tao-minded flavours spinning Chinese into the mix pot. Ancient ancient ancient.
It gets better. Once the second half of the trabalho was well underway, with everyone stepped up several gears and really giving it 1000% now, I had my first ever 'real' gobsmacking encounter with something. I was in a cool, waiting room / bar type affair, some kind of interstellar drinking den star-port dimensional cocktail lounge. And there was this blue fucking thing with a beak! Humanoid, chilling, resting back on the bar. It looked a bit like that thing from the Muppets or Sesame Street with the bushy eyebrows...It seemed utterly unsurprised by me, and nodded, and, er, 'smiled' if thats possible with a beak. I asked its name and it told me it was called John Matthew. What the FUCK? (Biblical enough for you?) We had a good laugh kind of 'Phew!' and 'Brrrr'ing each other, eyebrows raised and immensity of the whole shebang. I was completely in awe of this marvellous thing, but together enough to be polite...In retrospect I wish I'd conversed a bit more, asked something, but it didn't feel like a Great Authority...more like me, really, some joker out in the hyperdimensions trying to make sense of the whole thing amidst the merriment and madness.
It faded away, I was gobsmacked, and making mental noteds to remeber this shit to check with my fellows afterwards.
The next really memorable thing was the one thing I really wondered about for days afterwards. i was feeling quite aware and super attentive, not caught up in visions or anything ---oooh, I forgot to mention --- i had decided to really go there this time, and during the break had asked for a really healthy top up dose of the darkest, most potent brew...Not only that, i somewhat fucked up by marching over to the girls side of the machine and stepping up to the 'waiter' who was dosing out the ladies. Oops! He didn't care, but my good friend who is one of the [xxxxx] 'carers' had a word when I returned to the mens side!! Watch out for that heading into the girls side in the middle of the work, dude! Still, who can blame me eh?
So anyway, in spite of the humongous dose of Special Ayahuasca Brew, I was feeling remarkably lucid and together. I retired from the lines for a breather and to do some yogic asanas, get a good stretch. After stretching, still lucid as a judge, I took a pew on the seating at the back of the hall....I noticed something which caught my eye...It was a glass of blue, and Imean BLUE liquid. Like, the consistency of water, but the same sort of colour as Fabric Conditioner...y'know, like Lenor or something like that. I was intrigued...What? I picked it up, and yep, it was really fucking blue. I frowned. This was not some trippy hallucination, some superimposed translucent distortion, this liquid was fucking blue. I thought to check with someone else, but laughed...If I asked anyone in that room if that was blue, they would of course tell me it was. With green bits,a nd teeth probably. I would not get a straight answer. I couldn't work out if it was contaminated water, bleach, what. I looked closer. On really close inspection i found out, to my increasing confusion, that the blue was a light, a really deep light, shining from inside the liquid itself...not reflected light, an internal blue light.
I was a bit freaked out, and put the glass down intending to return to the lines. But a nudging voice admonished me, and gently, patiently told me 'No, drink it....'
So I took a sip. It was nice. I drank the whole damn lot. I still don't know what the fuck it was, whether it was (which seems likely) 'just' water, or what. It was a gift. A present, was what I sensed, from whatever it was that urged me to drink it. One thing for sure, since this work, I am drinking more water than I have for years, and have been swimming 3-4 times a week. Feels right. Whatever.
The work continued apace, and I was in inner and outer vision glory for ages. I was in a sort of Elfin Enchanted forest, very Green Blue, perfect fantasy business, and there were little sprites everywhere. I mean, Everywhere. I was dancing a lot, and I noticed there were red demonic presences in the floor (the trapdoor / stairs???), which I was laughing at and stamping on as soon as they appeared, like that silly funfair game with the moles and the hammer.. I had to co-ordinate my dance until i was perfectly sequenced to stomp these little bastards as soon as their hornhead ugly selves appeared. It was too much fun.
For some reason, at this point, because darkness was falling, I had to really make an effort not to think about time...I wondered how late it was, and realised i had really ingested a shitload of Daime. I had a fleeting thought that everyone was continuing because and only because I had drunk so so much, and it was nearly morning...I silently thanked everyone for being so genrous and caring of my journey, and the sensation passed...
Too much more happened to go into, some of it extremely XXX and not for you prying folks out there! It was beautiful, having journeyed through the sex angle the previous day, I was allowed all sorts of beautiful experiences in the psychic realm on the Sunday...but that's private you perverts!
Once the work proper was done, I was still juiced up like a racing car, and had to lie flat on my back (the best posture for bringing the energy back under some semblance of control)...I was demented, laughing my little socks off for quite some time, and making my insane proclamattions for others enjoyment...lots of laughter at this stage...
As a bit of background, I have been a smoker for about 16 years, used to smoke a lot of Santa Maria, with tobacco, less and less these days unless clients at work are into it in which case I tend to so we all operate in the same space...other than that, I've been on the American Spirit rollies for ages, but recently drifted back into nasty commercial FAGS, B&H that kind of shit...The Daime had, until now, left me alone with it..assuring me that as long as I was OK with it, it was safe.
That changed on Sunday. I have never yet, in a year of drinking the stuff, been sick. The purge (La purga) is a very commmon and cleansing / healing aspect of the whole apparatus, but is had never happened to me before...In the midst of my merriment, I suddenly felt it coming. I ran to one of the many little buckets provided for just such an event, and was in huge pain for about 2 minutes, violently purging some thinck orrible shit from my system..As I did it, I was on all fours, fists clenched, knuckles on floor, and was informed (inside) that this was channeling energy correctly back to the earth...And was told, in no uncertain terms, that this was smoking...Smoking had caused this, and would continue to do so everytime I drank from now on. It was simple choice based stuff. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, but it really wasn't pleasant. My choice. You smoke, you pay, and maybe more than this one day. Your choice Hombre.
I quit there and then. Even turned down Santa Maria that was passed around later on...no more smoke for me. Today is the 14th day, 2 whole weeks, and not a molecule of tobacco or anything else has passed these lips since that moment. I am surrounded by smokers, and haven't even had a craving yet. I've done with it.
Occasionally I had to lie flat again, and really hug the floor...In my mind, Emergency Services Sprites arrived...it was mad....everytime I got a rush of nausea, I heard sirens and saw flshing blue lights, and these extraordinary vehicles in Emergeny Colours would arrive, with paramedics, and stethoscopes and 'bing' machines and shit, tending to me...I was airlifted out of a dark stormy ocean at one point, and lying like the victim of a road accident with entity onlookers, horrified, and medical teams! Cur-razy. I din't puke again though, and felt SO MUCH better after the purge, like a new lease of life.
At this point as well, when the madness was occurring, the shamans were all around me and I was so greatful. i felt great love, after my huge contribution to the work, from the others there, who wanted to heal my sickness and help me get back on my feet. Even the kids were all over me, jumping about on me until I had to tell 'em to stop! In fact, the kids were the most concerned, giving me loads of time, and the shekere rattling in my ears. Thank You! A huge flow of gratitude, yet again.
Once I was better, I had a food emergency. FOOOD! I was RAVENOUS! I was reminded of my I Ching - Delight, and Humbleness. Well, I'd had my share of both, and was reminded to look after my body. I got a huge plate of lovely food, all sorts, fruit, rice dishes, soup, salads, seeds, nuts and herbal tea, and headed back to my spot.
At this point, I had another mad rush of visions. I was made aware of some spooky stuff, the stuff I had some trouble with afterwards. Delusions of Grandeur? Or a glimpse of something awesome.
While I was 'sick' I was shown some mad shit. Not only had I been granted Administrator Privilege of the Source Code on the Local Machine earlier in the work, but having traversed some levels, I was given Guest Access to the GUI of the Host Server.
I can't describe it any other way. I may as well spill the whole fucking lot, and say I was told, and its a secret, that 'I' (and 'You') are THAT. Yeah, yeah what's new? Seriously, it said. Try it. You're God. Right now, change something, do whatever you like. It's yours. Fill it with what you Will.
Gaaaaaaaaaah!!! I'm always really wary of these megalomaniacal flights of thought, where was it coming from. But I did have, er, powers. I was building a day, on a beach, a beautiful sunny day, perfect breeze, palm trees, and it kept coming back, I kept adding to it, I was told, in no uncertain terms, SANCTIFY EVERYTHING IN YOUR LIFE.
Make evrything in your life holy, and praise and thank it, and if you can't or feel a bit ridiculaous song it (cigggies), get rid of it, It's yours, it's holy, keep the demons out. Sanctify sanctify sanctify evrything, all the time, evryday, before and during all your doing.
So, very strange. I was completely convinced that I was able, without thinking about it, to conjure glasses of water. I would be sat nect to an empty glass, and was thirsty. I would pick it up, check its emptiness, and put it down. ignore it for a few moments, and when I checked again, it was always full...It freaked me out, but i was quite badgered at this stage....
Slowly, the vibration slowed, and felt myself squezzing back into the lower vibrations of ordinariness, but with haunting echoes of these immense lessons and revealed visions. I had to talk, and gabble like a madman with all the other mad men and women who were equally keen to share their experiences. I understand why this is called trabalho, work.
It ahs changed my life so utterly I can't even begin to go ther. Well, anymore than I just have! The only way to adequately explain it would be to do it all agin. But it would, of course, be uniquely different.
It has stayed with me like never before. In all my years of magical works and drug explorations (I dislike the term for aya, it really is something other than that loaded and pejorative baggy term) I have NEVER been so deep down, excuse the cliche, the Rabbit Hole. Fucking scary, exhilarating, sanity bending, ancient, modern, hilarious, solemn, holy, witchcraft and wizardry of the highest order I've ever been near.
Sorry for rambling, but I feel I've gotten that off my chest!
Funny enough, the days afterwards can be quite 'hairy'...it is important not to dwell on it too much, it reminds me of Castenada, and don juan admonishing him not to speak of the Nagual after encountering it, for a few days afterwards...it really feels like that...best left alone for a time...I get struck by the inevitable, inescapable fact that it is an experience, and thus adding weight and direction to that which keeps you from and moves you away from what is...It adds weight to the knowledge / story teller, and stories are not where it is...again the Castenada aspect of tonal springs to mind...
I have wrestled with ll of this in the work before, and here's the thing...It ain't about enlightenment, or revealing the real workd, or unveiling the illusion or anything of the sort.
It's simply the most extraordinary way I've found to spend a weekend with some of the most beautiful, friendly, calm and ego-free people its ever been my privilege and pleasure to meet.
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