Or, the first brew to ever touch my lips that has NOT been brewed by me. This is magical stuff.
The brew was preserved with 10% alcohol, so it was simmered on low heat for a few minutes. The smell was wonderful--sweet, and like cedar. The Sacred Smoothie was made (dosed 80g vine + .5g Mimosa), the house was smudged, and prayers were whispered at the altar.
I thought about the way someone here said I had everyone's support from hyperspace. I thought about the reality of that and smiled.
I was interrupted by the ungodly clatter of a bunch of drying dishes crashing into the sink in full poltergeist fashion. It's been a while since I've prepared a tea THAT strong. (There was another instance of doors slamming repeatedly in the house sometime over a year ago.)
I drank to strength, and to balance. I've been feeling out of balance. I also feel like I am too kind, in that my kindness and always thinking the best of people invites some terribly negative forces into my life. "Friends" pleading suicide for attention, and a bonafide, pathological stalker, to name a few of the highlights of my week. I was almost flattened by a minivan on my bicycle. As far as the law of attraction is concerned, these are not good things.
I drank slowly, and the taste was--actually--delicious. No bitter aftertaste whatsoever (granted, it was in a smoothie). I didn't flinch. It was incredible. It was also very dreamy; right away, my eyes squinted (I looked stoned) and fell out of focus in a blissful way.
At about 20 grams into the tea, I immediately had more revelations about the early books of the Bible than Saint John the Baptist. Eden... Cain and Abel... The serpent...
Zero bodyload. I snuggled up in bed beneath some blankets and found myself drifting toward sleep.
*BANG* Level 1 carrier wave. The medicine lifted me up and up. I felt the G force of a 250 foot rollercoaster, but it was the most fantastic loss of control. The visuals were light, the messages were quiet.
*BANG* The wave changed frequencies, and I was propelled further through astral space. It felt like an astral projection and I was floating above my bed, surrounded by jungle greens and verdant mandalas...
The vibration switched gears several more times, and I fell asleep. Didn't make it to the changa...
I woke up this morning, and my pupils were still huge. The medicine lingered; I spent the day in a harmala-soaked haze. I felt quiet. It was one of those "wear only white and talk to no one" mornings after. I felt generally good, but drawn inward.
I was so sensitive to everything today. Had to bike through the city at one point for some food and it was a depressing nightmare. Cars whizzing past aggressively, no trees, cracked asphalt...
All the tension I was feeling finally erupted into a flow of tears tonight. Other than the pain and yearning in my being for human contact, I faced the WEIGHT of my loneliness. The weight is everywhere in my body.
I overcommit. I want to do too many things and it always wears me down. I never accomplish as much as I want to. Granted, I've learned to become MUCH more compassionate with myself, I no longer BLAME or direct ANGER or LOATHING at myself for this, but there is still a point where I am spread too thin and it wears me down. I get enervated. I get physically exhausted.
I work 40+ hours a week. It is AHIMSA and I am so eternally grateful for that, but it is LONG work, HARD work, and REPETITIVE work, that, essentially, still wastes my life. I'd rather be doing other things with that time. I am expected to take it so seriously all the time, harsh management that isn't always healthy.
I've worked since a very young age, and never stopped. I left home. I left my country. I am all alone and have been all alone for a very long time, in that I have no family to fall back on. I have no one to call if I am desperately in trouble. Therefore, I've been carrying a ton of weight all by myself.
It wears me out...
I have basically concluded that I can't go on this way. I managed to--ha--WORK my way out of an unfortunate financial crisis, debt (from the time I opened a business that blew up in my face... look, MORE work!). I haven't taken a vacation, voluntarily, in forever, since I started working, really.
I called out this morning (I was feeling pretty run down the night before and gave everyone the heads up, so it wasn't like I recklessly drank Ayahuasca and bailed). I haven't ever even CALLED OFF since I broke my foot!!
It's this whole Tough-As-Nails-I-Don't-Need-Anyone-I-Can-Do-Anything-I-Solidly-Stand-On-My-Own Complex. It's NOT working!! It's not sustainable.
Cue the soundtrack for this week's psychotic episode: Big Girls Don't Cry.
Actually, they do.
I don't have anyone in my life that I can actually, physically lean on.
The solution: I need to TRUST that I will be provided for and work less. I like to have what I call an "OH SHIT" account in the bank (for those times in life when something unexpected happens and you say, OH! ----). It will be a month or two until I can pack that properly full of cash, and once I have some kind of failsafe, I am cutting my hours. Before the new year. The truth is, I need to spend more time with myself, more time caring for my body, more time involved with my spirituality, more time working on my art. I am just. too. sensitive. to force myself to endure the demands of my facade.
I have other options to explore. Maybe god will send me a roommate who is cool with a lifestyle that revolves around highly scheduled drug extractions (otherwise I pay steeper rent for a very private apartment). Maybe my book will publish quickly. Maybe I will end up in the Amazon and forego working (in the conventional sense) completely. The stiff demand I have for myself is that I stay involved in a profession where harm comes to none--people or planet. I can't stay sane otherwise. It makes options narrow. (Strippers probably make in one night what I make in three weeks, but dignity is priceless.
)
Anyway, that's all about me drinking some jungle tea, crying like a baby, and then reassessing things in my life I thought were impossible to change. As Mama Aya said to me once before, "If you don't like it, change it!" Well, I don't like working so much. We'll just have to see what happens. I would still be making enough to eat, keep a roof on my head, and drink Ayahuasca, with a bit of cash to spare, so...
There is no point in performing repetitive tasks that are meaningless in the scope of personal development, and there is no point pressing on senselessly, idiotically alone... it's just not good.
The brew was preserved with 10% alcohol, so it was simmered on low heat for a few minutes. The smell was wonderful--sweet, and like cedar. The Sacred Smoothie was made (dosed 80g vine + .5g Mimosa), the house was smudged, and prayers were whispered at the altar.
I thought about the way someone here said I had everyone's support from hyperspace. I thought about the reality of that and smiled.
I was interrupted by the ungodly clatter of a bunch of drying dishes crashing into the sink in full poltergeist fashion. It's been a while since I've prepared a tea THAT strong.
(There was another instance of doors slamming repeatedly in the house sometime over a year ago.)I drank to strength, and to balance. I've been feeling out of balance. I also feel like I am too kind, in that my kindness and always thinking the best of people invites some terribly negative forces into my life. "Friends" pleading suicide for attention, and a bonafide, pathological stalker, to name a few of the highlights of my week. I was almost flattened by a minivan on my bicycle. As far as the law of attraction is concerned, these are not good things.
I drank slowly, and the taste was--actually--delicious. No bitter aftertaste whatsoever (granted, it was in a smoothie). I didn't flinch. It was incredible. It was also very dreamy; right away, my eyes squinted (I looked stoned) and fell out of focus in a blissful way.
At about 20 grams into the tea, I immediately had more revelations about the early books of the Bible than Saint John the Baptist. Eden... Cain and Abel... The serpent...
Zero bodyload. I snuggled up in bed beneath some blankets and found myself drifting toward sleep.
*BANG* Level 1 carrier wave. The medicine lifted me up and up. I felt the G force of a 250 foot rollercoaster, but it was the most fantastic loss of control. The visuals were light, the messages were quiet.
*BANG* The wave changed frequencies, and I was propelled further through astral space. It felt like an astral projection and I was floating above my bed, surrounded by jungle greens and verdant mandalas...
The vibration switched gears several more times, and I fell asleep. Didn't make it to the changa...
I woke up this morning, and my pupils were still huge. The medicine lingered; I spent the day in a harmala-soaked haze. I felt quiet. It was one of those "wear only white and talk to no one" mornings after. I felt generally good, but drawn inward.
I was so sensitive to everything today. Had to bike through the city at one point for some food and it was a depressing nightmare. Cars whizzing past aggressively, no trees, cracked asphalt...
All the tension I was feeling finally erupted into a flow of tears tonight. Other than the pain and yearning in my being for human contact, I faced the WEIGHT of my loneliness. The weight is everywhere in my body.
I overcommit. I want to do too many things and it always wears me down. I never accomplish as much as I want to. Granted, I've learned to become MUCH more compassionate with myself, I no longer BLAME or direct ANGER or LOATHING at myself for this, but there is still a point where I am spread too thin and it wears me down. I get enervated. I get physically exhausted.
I work 40+ hours a week. It is AHIMSA and I am so eternally grateful for that, but it is LONG work, HARD work, and REPETITIVE work, that, essentially, still wastes my life. I'd rather be doing other things with that time. I am expected to take it so seriously all the time, harsh management that isn't always healthy.
I've worked since a very young age, and never stopped. I left home. I left my country. I am all alone and have been all alone for a very long time, in that I have no family to fall back on. I have no one to call if I am desperately in trouble. Therefore, I've been carrying a ton of weight all by myself.
It wears me out...
I have basically concluded that I can't go on this way. I managed to--ha--WORK my way out of an unfortunate financial crisis, debt (from the time I opened a business that blew up in my face... look, MORE work!). I haven't taken a vacation, voluntarily, in forever, since I started working, really.
I called out this morning (I was feeling pretty run down the night before and gave everyone the heads up, so it wasn't like I recklessly drank Ayahuasca and bailed). I haven't ever even CALLED OFF since I broke my foot!!
It's this whole Tough-As-Nails-I-Don't-Need-Anyone-I-Can-Do-Anything-I-Solidly-Stand-On-My-Own Complex. It's NOT working!! It's not sustainable.
Cue the soundtrack for this week's psychotic episode: Big Girls Don't Cry.
Actually, they do.
I don't have anyone in my life that I can actually, physically lean on.
The solution: I need to TRUST that I will be provided for and work less. I like to have what I call an "OH SHIT" account in the bank (for those times in life when something unexpected happens and you say, OH! ----). It will be a month or two until I can pack that properly full of cash, and once I have some kind of failsafe, I am cutting my hours. Before the new year. The truth is, I need to spend more time with myself, more time caring for my body, more time involved with my spirituality, more time working on my art. I am just. too. sensitive. to force myself to endure the demands of my facade.
I have other options to explore. Maybe god will send me a roommate who is cool with a lifestyle that revolves around highly scheduled drug extractions (otherwise I pay steeper rent for a very private apartment). Maybe my book will publish quickly. Maybe I will end up in the Amazon and forego working (in the conventional sense) completely. The stiff demand I have for myself is that I stay involved in a profession where harm comes to none--people or planet. I can't stay sane otherwise. It makes options narrow. (Strippers probably make in one night what I make in three weeks, but dignity is priceless.
)Anyway, that's all about me drinking some jungle tea, crying like a baby, and then reassessing things in my life I thought were impossible to change. As Mama Aya said to me once before, "If you don't like it, change it!" Well, I don't like working so much. We'll just have to see what happens. I would still be making enough to eat, keep a roof on my head, and drink Ayahuasca, with a bit of cash to spare, so...
There is no point in performing repetitive tasks that are meaningless in the scope of personal development, and there is no point pressing on senselessly, idiotically alone... it's just not good.
