LESS EGO / MORE SOUL

Since I first heard these ideas two months ago, my appreciation for Water and life has expanded in a very beautiful way. This is why I have taken the time to pass on this important message, channelled through a great teacher I found here in Israel. His name is Shir and his words run deep. Here I have put together the essence of his inspiring message. Enjoy.

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It is important to understand the role of Water in our life. Science has proven that Water receives energy and holds memory. We know this, yet so often we forget the importance of this finding.

Consider this: approximately 65% of each and every one of us is made up of Water. That’s more than half of our bodily composition.  The fact that Water is so receptive and open to programming by intention offers a great opportunity for self-creation.

The Water Spirit is a traveller. It cycles through the planet, from the underground spring, to the cloudy sky, falling back down with the rain to join itself in the rivers and oceans of our planet. This cycle of reincarnation continues again and again throughout eternal time and space.

One could even say that Water is the “collective consciousness” incarnate as it travels around the globe, communing every single living being. On the first day of creation, Water arrived on earth and took on the biggest, highest responsibility to care for all of the creatures of this earth. Without Water, life would not exist.

Today there is the same amount of Water on earth as there was on the first day of creation. Science has even proven, that not a single drop has disappeared from the face of the earth since the dawn of time. Over the millennia it has just recycled throughout the complex life systems that support its journey across earth.

As we know, Water holds memory, and memory is information. As Water travels, it collects memories, gathering together a huge bank of information, documenting all of life’s history and evolution. As we drink from the same Water and allow it to pass through us, we both receive and contribute to the distribution of this information.

Being 65% Water, means we have access to all of the information in the world, within us at all times. However, most of us are not really used to listening – and I mean, really listening – enough to understand the wisdom Water is so willing to share with us. Instead we play games of guess and check, questioning our inner knowing, not believing that we can know all those things until we see some physical “proof”. Then we are suddenly surprised when we have a “new idea”, when in fact, we are just remembering – or acknowledging this information that is being shared with us, always.

Unfortunately, Water is something we tend to take for granted. We have been conditioned to expect that when we turn on a tap, Water will come. But this is merely a convenience of the modern world and we must recognise this for the luxury it is. If there is no Water in your taps tomorrow, perhaps you wouldn’t freak out immediately. Instead you would go to the supermarket and buy some bottled Water. But what if that was unavailable also? Okay, so you would find another beverage to quench your thirst. But how long could this really sustain you?

We need Water; pure Water, to grow into fully conscious human beings.

Always remember, that without Water, life cannot exist. If we stop drinking Water we get dry. When we get dry, we get weak. When we get weak, we die and like this, we return to the earth. They tell us there are places where there is “no Water” but there is not a place on earth where Water does not exist. At the very least, the spirit of the Water is in the air and when we breathe with conscious awareness of this, we drink.

If you think that we humans treat the Water with respect, then you are very much mistaken. Perhaps personally one by one, yes, but as a society, there is very little respect for the Water that sustains us so generously.

When you turn on the TV and you see moving pictures of a boat with a motor and oil driving around the Kinneret, you may realise with alarm What? We are suppose to drink this Water? (The Kinneret used to be the biggest source for drinking Water in Israel, until recent years as it has become polluted.) This is our disease as human beings – we don’t take responsibility for our own Water.

Today, as you read these words, I am calling out for your awakening. Take care of your own Water. Give intention to your Water. Love your Water. Give thanks for every drop that graces your reality. Know that when you speak to the Water, directly to the molecules, it listens. Likewise, as you drink, you open yourself to receive to the Water’s message. For as we approach Water with love and respect, we prolong the relationship. Yet if we continue to make Water feel disrespected and unwelcomed on this planet, one day it will surely leave us.

The Water asks for love and we give love through our appreciation. That is it. Imagine when you are parched and those first drops of Water touch your tongue. This is the gratitude we should feel with every sip, acknowledging that without Water, we would not be alive.

So give thanks for the Water and use Water with divine intention.

When you drink, say thank you.

When you bathe, say thank you.

When you flush the toilet, say thank you.

When you turn on the taps to run a bath, or wash the dishes or Water your plants say thank you.

When it rains, say thank you.

Realise the role Water plays in your life and give thanks, because Water is Spirit.

With the awakening of this realisation, you will begin to open and become more receptive to its knowledge and wisdom.

Bless the water.

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Last week I had the privilege of both witnessing and participating in the manifestation of an event of a lifetime. Inspired to help support the healthcare of sick, orphaned children in Israel, a friend of mine – lets call him Al – put together a DIY fundraiser.

Over the course of two weeks, what started as a “nice idea” became a full-blown reality. This was manifestation at its best.

Hailing from Brazil, Al had bought with him Ayahuasca, the sacred medicine of South America. His idea was to put on a three-day retreat that exemplified a really high-quality way of life. His vision included three days of workshops on nutrition, yoga, healing, sweat lodges and medicine ceremonies. As he began to discuss his vision with others, inspiration took on momentum and it was not long before many came together to help make it happen.

Land was donated for the week, along with infrastructure to make shelters, compost toilets, showers, a kitchen, sweat-lodge and ceremonial space.  Food was donated by each of the 200 participants who came through over the three day period. This assured an abundance of nourishing wholefoods. Healers, yoga teachers, storytellers, an NLP guru and even a magician came together to share their crafts. The result was three days of deep spiritual work, and I can tell you now, it really has changed my life.

The whole event was run entirely by donation, and by the end of it all, 25,000 Israeli shekels were collected - all of which went straight to the children. The fact that such an epic event came together in such a short period of time, (and based entirely on donation!) is a truly inspiring example of collaboration. Add to that the intense healing that benefited all participants, makes this a fundraiser “pure genius” in my books.

The Sweat Lodge…

On the first evening, I joined 40 others to partake in the first sweat.  “We come together in this womb to pray together and our prayers are the songs that we sing…” said Matias, the facilitator, as he opened the ceremony. He was an interesting character with long brown dreads, clear blue eyes and a muscly body, heavily tattooed in sacred geometric symbols. A stranger may have been intimidated by his stature and alternative image, but when you heard him speak, his words were so full of love – his kindness undeniable. “Family is everything and the children are our future, and let us not forget that we are all children at our essence…” he reminded us.

One by one, we each held our hands towards the fire before crawling beneath the low ceiling of the makeshift cave. Inside we sat shoulder-to-shoulder loosely holding knees to chest. The women sat on the right, the men to the left. In the centre of the lodge was a dirt pit. One by one the stones were taken from the fire outside and gently stacked in the pit.

The smell of cedar filled the air as it seared upon the rocks. Once the entrance was closed, everything became dark. Voices hung loosely in the air, without bodies to ground them. We were no longer individuals, but a metaphor for disembodied consciousness. As the heat gently wrapped its warmth around me, I welcomed the steam into every cell of my body. It was comforting and I felt safe to melt into the darkness without having to project any self image. In the dark, I could pull any face I wanted, feel happy or feel sad, smile or cry, without worrying about being “appropriate” in the moment. In the dark, my feelings were mine to feel. Matias began to sing, shaking his rattle to the tune, heya heya heya heaya ho… Gradually more voices joined united in the darkness, improvising on his melody.

The ceremony was split into four parts, each representing the opening of a spiritual doorway in alignment with each of the four elements. After each segment, the door was re-opened and more hot rocks were added to the centre. After the opening of the third door, we were given the opportunity to share one of our own songs with the group.

Now I love to sing, but I can still have a lot of blockages when it comes to singing in front of others – especially acapella. Despite my inhibitions, I figured here, in the dark was the best time to conquer this fear. Though it took several false starts, I eventually found my voice, singing a simple portugese medicine song that I had learnt while traveling around South America.

Com suas flores, limpe o meu coração

Com tuas águas limpas a minha alma

Hey mama…hey mama Oxun.

This song is a prayer to the water goddess, Mother “Oshun” and roughly translates to “with your flowers, cleanse my heart, with your waters, cleanse my soul.”

I had hoped others would be familiar with the tune and sing with me. In fact, my biggest fear was that I would be left to sing alone. So guess what? This fear was quickly realised. It seems to be true – that which we fear, we become. Nonetheless, fighting my ego, I  continued to sing the song a few more rounds until, gradually more voices joined me.

When the third door was opened, a crystal jug of water was blessed and then passed around the circle.  More prayers were sung, more sweat released, and two hours later, we emerged together, dizzy beneath the moonlight.

The whole experience was intensely spiritual. Much more real than any other (non-psychadelic) religious ceremony I have experienced. Before the sweat, Matias told us “this is where we come to pray,”  and I get it now, I really do. However, prior to entering this sacred womb, I didn’t really have a reference point for what true prayer is particularly as I never connected to this idea of prayer as “asking God for stuff…”

In the hot, damp, darkness, sit bones in the mud, I realised that prayer is really about coming together, celebrating life and surrendering to the discomfort as the mundanities of day to day living dissolve. Singing together is a powerful way to pray and I am learning more and more every day about the spiritual power of music. It blows my mind.

Overall, this whole experience left me wondering why it took me so long to brave the heat and darkness, considering the numerous opportunities I’ve had to participate in sweats around the world. Contrary to my apprehension, the  perceived suffering of the mind is nothing compared to the benefits I reaped, because when I sweat, I find my answers.

…To be continued…

The fragility of intimacy

who you are and where you´ve been

the unbuckling of desire

sunlight, white sheets, take me higher

the transicence of a fleeting moment

can leave you in a state of torment

a beating pulse

that becomes and obessesion

a secret that

becomes a confession…

Relationships, sexuality, seduction and the enigma of true love have always been a natural curiosity to me. Most recently I´ve been reading about the art of seduction and reflecting on my own experiences with love, lust and attraction.

A common theme amongst all of this is love’s temptation. When a person stirs our emotions in such a way, love often calls us to surrender and lose ourself in the other. At first this can feel so right; a refreshing release of responsibilities. An indulgence in new and exciting passionate emotions where we find ourselves driven to do crazy things in the name of love. But this is loves test. She will push your boundaries, hoping not that you yeild, but that you define your position and take a stand.

I will be the first to admit, there are times when I have failed this test epicly. Failed, in the sense that in “surrending” over completely to love, I have withdrawn the greatest gift I could ever offer to a lover; me being me.

You see, you being you and me being me is the greatest gift we could possibly give to one another and a healthy relationship, however passionate, must be based on a mutual commitment to stay true to ones self. After all, a couple comes together because they liked what they initially saw in one another, no?

On pondering this truth, I’ve learned that surrendering or loosing yourself within another does not equate to intimacy. Rather, intimacy is a bond created through the transparent exploration of one anothers boundaries, coupled with the sharing of both past and present experiences.

For this reason, it is important to be conscious of the energetics involved when you approach another. Perhaps the most seductive way to approach another is with the inner mantra “I am my own person”. Don’t allow yourself to fall into the trap of being lame prey, going out of your way to please. Instead, remember that when it comes to new relationships, we are all excited by risk and mystery and this is generated through a little resistance.

You can read Part One and Part Two here.

That night we opened the dieta. I drank a fresh cup of Bobinsana about an hour before the ceremony. It had pungent a smoked-bacon flavour to it, though certainly preferable to the rancid bitterness of Ayahuasca. The ceremony came on quick and strong. I was surprised at how Arquelis and Maria began to sing almost immediately after drinking – where as traditionally I had experienced an hour of silence in-between.

Before the medicine had even been able to set in, there was a loud crash and bang which scared the shit out of me. It was the small tin roof collapsing over the kitchen, for no apparent reason. It pushed a wave of fear through me too suddenly and I felt like a timid little creature, too vulnerable for the outside world. Maria was sitting with me beneath my mosquito net, but her voice was sharp and scary to me in that state. I wanted space from her so I moved to the other end of my bed and curled up in the fetal position.

The medicine was strong and my emotional state became quickly amplified and disorientated. One half of me was in turmoil experiencing the discomfort of sad emotions and physical pain triggered by memories of other incarnations. The other half of me was in ecstasy seeing brilliant visions of me, claiming my full potential, though I found this beauty too intense to stare it straight in the eyes. It was simply too confronting to realize how great I could be, yet how much work I had to do to get there. So I meandered between states, unsure of what to make of the situation.

As I dipped into an emotional underworld of sadness, grief and suppression, I heard Arquelis reminding me that it was okay to just focus on the beauty. In any given reality there is light and dark forces at work. The darkness works hard to get our attention; to entrance us with the belief that it has more to offer than the light. The mystery reveals itself when we realize that each force is of equal value as they are rooted in the same source.

Often I have found myself undervaluing the light because I perceive it to be too easy, too beautiful and too obvious etc. As a result, I remember being confused with my initial Ayahuasca experiences during my first trip to Peru. After all, I had heard Mama Aya had a gift for conjuring up visions of ones personal hell, and I figured it was by confronting this darkness that the real work was done. “Bring it on” I begged her, yet the majority of my experiences have been all too beautiful. That is why, to Arquelis’ mild confusion, I allowed myself to indulge in the dark side of my visions.

Eventually enough was enough though. I saw his point. My personal growth was to learn to let go of this pain, by turning my attention to the beauty that was being presented to me. This is the alchemy of our existence. To realize that in any situation, there are both light and dark forces at work and that that which we give our attention to is what becomes real.

For the following five days, we all became noctournal creatures, drinking Ayahuasca at nightfall and fighting our own personal demons until dawn. Looking back, its hard to separate ceremony from ceremony as they all melt into one another.

The days also took on a dreamlike aesthetic as the diet and lack of sleep weakend our bodies to allow the plants to take up residence within us. We’d sleep intermittently throughout the day, lazing around in our hammocks. We’d bathe in the river around midday and have a main meal of fish, roasted plantains and quinoa around two or three in the afternoon. Yep, while I am mostly vegan, I found Bobinsana – the winged, zombi-mermaid goddess that she is, to have an insatiable hunger for fish. Honestly, the fish was so fresh and tasty despite the lack of seasoning. Other than that, most of the day would be in silent contemplation.

In the early hours of the morning, when all the hard internal work was done, I’d stay up whispering to Aster between our mosquito nets, full, satisfied, and in love with life. I was blissed to my bones, reflecting on my life experiences, as most ceremonies ended with comforting visions of all the beauty I had been blessed with in this lifetime – the people, the places, the joy, the love. Though these seemed such distant memories – far away from the present reality – it reminded me of why I was here. We’d share our visions and experiences, hopes and dreams for the future, occasionally indulging in our dirtiest food fantasies (several days of a bland monodiet can really give you a guilty apetite). Aster was also an incredible musician player and in our heightened state, my favourite thing would be to listen to him play and sing his inspired songs off the cuff.

I remember one night after ceremony, watching the sky with him. There was some strange lightning and noises going off in the distance – a very curious sight, like nothing I had seen in the sky before. We mused that it was aliens and playfully discussed common alien conspiracy theories. I love a good story after all and enjoyed hearing Aster’s own conscious conclusions.

Within the hour a forceful storm was upon us and it made me giddy with excitement. I remembered storms this epic as a child, how I loved to hide under the blankets listening to the rain and hail crash down onto the roof. Everything was blowing in the wild winds. We had to hold on tightly to our belongings – even our sleeping mats beneath us. While everyone else sought cover from the storm, I felt a strong desire to meditate in the midst of it. To me, this was a divine gift and I was very much enjoying the experience. Alas, it came and went too soon.

On about day four, after a rough night of ceremony, I found myself recapitulating on my whole life. Where in the past, this had been a daunting task, I found it effortless and healing. It was as if my brain had been re-wired with such clarity. I could see how the events of my past were interconnected and how they had shaped me to be who I was today. I could identify my beliefs and fears so clearly.

Inside my head, I was speaking directly to Bobinsana and she was helping me to make the connections I needed to understand myself on a whole new level. This brought me great peace and gratitude. I remember sitting by the river, recapitulating with her, feeling things I had not, until then, allowed myself to feel. While I felt pain, hurt, fear, frustration and anger, I was grateful for this opportunity to process these emotions in a healthy and timely manner. Where in the past I hadn’t really understood how to let these emotions flow through me, here, my blood had cooled and I was able to approach my traumas from a higher perspective, with appreciation for the gifts of growth that were handed to me in the face of adversity.

Part Four coming soon.

You can read Part One here.

I had my heart set on working with a curandera (female shaman) from the beginning, but they seemed to be hard to find these days. Nevertheless Aster and I went hunting. After meeting with two or three, we invited Maria to join us on our journey with Aquellis, thinking it would bring balance to the masculine and feminine energies of the dieta.

Maria is a strong jungle woman. She stands about 5ft tall yet has a jaguar edge to her that is not to be reckoned with. More than once Aster and I were astounded by her seemingly superhuman strength as we watched her carry huge buckets of water from the river to our campsite, obediently balanced on her head without the aid of her arms.

Originally we set out to a shipibo community south of Pucallpa, taking a three hour car ride along the narrow winding dirt roads into the jungle. There were five of us crammed in the tiny car together: the driver, Aquellis, Maria, Aster and I. We stopped to get some food along the way and I cringed to see Arquellis carelessly toss his plastic rubbish out the window as we drove on. Here is a man who shares a very deep connection with the plants, yet is so oblivious to the impact of his waste. Sadly this is a common theme throughout the third world.

When we arrived the sun was beating down strong. Upon leaving the car we walked into the chakras for about half an hour before coming upon a clearing. This would be our home for the next few weeks.

It was a humble abode; a simple thatched roof (no walls) over a dirt floor with chickens and dogs roaming free. Just outside the “hut” was an open fire and to the right of that was a simple wooden bench supporting two big buckets of river water. This was our kitchen.

Take a short walk down yonder and you would meet the river, which was abundant with fish. This was where we bathed daily, taking care not to disturb the sting rays or Yacamama (a giant water anaconda – the guardian of the river). Alternatively, behind the clearing there was also a lake, covered with pretty lillys but we were told this was also home to caiman crocodiles.

I remember feeling anxious when I first arrived, shocked at the simplicity of the situation, to think that this would be my home for the next three weeks. I calmed my self promising that I would get through so long as I took things second by second. Besides, I’d lived in simpler situations before, camping in the wild. I guess what really struck me was the fact that this was how these people really lived every second of their life. They didn’t have a fancy house to go home to when shit got too real. This was it.

We strung up our hammocks and set up our beds beneath mosquito nets, taking refuge as dusk claimed the day. For after dark, it was near impossible to find peace from the biting bugs outside.

The following day we rose early to collect the Bobinsana needed for my dieta. It was a three-hour boat ride upstream. Note: this “boat” was essentially a precariously balanced canoe with a motor tacked onto the end of it. There was no shade and the sun was hot. Both Aster and I got a little burnt with our white gringo skin, but other than that, it was an enjoyable ride as we sat in the hull eating watermelon and papaya.

Eventually we came upon a beautiful old Bobinsana tree, rooted by the river’s edge. Together we harvested roots, leaves and bark. The roots and bark were later boiled for hours, reduced into a thick, pungent tea. I drank this morning and night for the duration of the dieta.

On the way back we stopped at a little beach for a swim and Arquillies cast his net, reeling in over a dozen fresh fish with each throw. The fish were then gathered in the hull to be scaled and filleted by Nei, a seven year old local boy.

On the way back we got into a discussion with Aquellis about spirit guides and Ayahuasca visions. Aquellis spoke of his own spirit guide taking the form of a brilliant white Pegasus. He asked me about mine and when I told him I hadn’t quite found one yet, he asked me what I would like. I laughed at the idea of being able to shop for such strange and mystical creatures, but  thought about this playfully for a moment and envisioned a tiger with the rainbow wings of a macaw parrot. “I’ve always had a connection with Tigers… but I also have a thing with birds and want to fly…then again, maybe I just want the rainbow wings,” I confided. “I’ve never seen one of them,” said Aquellis. Aster and I laughed about this, but Aquellis was serious. “Very well, I will find this for you…” he said, looking pensive.

The next day he came to me with the excitement of a child on Christmas day. He was holding a special vine he had collected during his morning walk. “This, will give you wings,” he told me. It was a “bat wing” plant (though I can no longer remember its native name). He showed me how beneath the little wing-like leaves were little claws, like that of bats.  By afternoon he had made it into a thick ointment to be rubbed onto my back before our Ayahuasca ceremony. “If we do this 3-5 times, you will have wings by the end of the week.” I was open to his mad train of thought, so I gave it a go.

Read on, Part Three Here…

ayahuasca experience

Finally a moment to break this writing hiatus…

As you can imagine, a lot has been going on in my life. Its crazy to think that only three weeks ago I was living deep in the Amazonian jungle, doing dieta with a shipibo shaman called Aquellis. This was the most intense and revealing experience of my life and I am dedicating the next several posts to sharing the experience with you in detail.

For those of you who don’t know, a dieta is an ancient shamanic initiation in the Amazon which involves dedicating oneself to a non-psycho active “master plant” for a set period of time. During this time, contact with the outside world is minimized, often causing subjects to retreat like hermits into the deep jungle.

By eating a very bland diet, without the use of any sugar, salt, spices or other stimulants, the body is weakened, allowing the spirit of the plants to transpose itself into the human body. Thus a relationship is formed and a mutual exchange of alternative experiences between plant and man is shared.

Traditionally shamanic apprentices would do a dieta with a particular plant for 1-2 years. These days however, subjects are able to do dieta from anywhere between a week to a year. During this time Ayahuasca is traditionally taken 2-3 times a week (or more) and works as the translator or mediator between the master plant and the initiate.

This time, I chose to diet a master plant called Bobinsana, which happened to be the first plant that caught my eye when I first arrived in Peru. I took it as a sign and Aquilles later confirmed that B. had indeed invited me.

Bobinsana grows by the waterside with beautiful white/pink blossoms. To me, her spirit is a winged siren – a gorgeous (sometimes sharp toothed) mermaid with a fiercely protective mother energy. This is contrasted with the friendly playfulness of some childlike fairy creature. She works deeply with ones emotions and opening up the communication channels with the precision of a hummingbird.

This being my second trip to Peru, I found the dieta to be a very interesting and rewarding way to deepen my relationship with Ayahuasca. In particular, I found that my journeys felt much more focused on healing and letting go of past traumas and my visions were much clearer.

Finding the right shaman was essential of course, and I was lucky to have had a lot of the searching done for me by my good friend Aster who had arrived in the jungle a month prior. Considering the amount of Ayahuasca tourism that goes on in the Amazon these days, it can be difficult to find a legitimate shaman of pure intentions.

Our shaman, Aquilles, was a kind hearted man in his mid forties. He lives in the small town of Yarina Cocha with his wife, children, two daughters in law, grandchildren and a couple of young orphans they adopted from the streets. Altogether there is 21 of them, who share the dirt floor of their humble four-bedroom home.

What instantly struck me about him was his authentic generosity as he kindly opened his home and heart to us. Unlike many of the other shamans competing in the area, he encouraged us to pay him by donation after covering the expenses of our trip. This is unique considering how many mouths he has to feed and how money hungry the society is out there. Amidst pollution and overpopulation there is a lot of struggle to make ends meet in the “city”.

I first met Aquilles in a feverish state after arriving in Yarina from Cusco. The cold of the mountains had taken its toll on my immune system and I had contracted some parasites which left me in a cold sweating fever for three days. During this time he and his wife visited me day and night with medicinal plants and with their aid I recovered quickly.

Before heading out for our dieta, we spent a week with his family in town as Aster and I organized what was needed for our trip. This included finding land, transportation and gathering enough food and plant medicines (including Tobacco, Ayahuasca and Chiddy Sanagoe) for the duration of our stay. During this time we’d often go over to his home for dinner and his children and grand children would always greet us warmly, running towards us with hugs.

We celebrated his birthday that week and it was brilliant to see how similar things were to my own life back home. Family members gathered at his house to eat, drink and be merry. Speeches were made and children laughed and played chasy in the background. Despite the differences, it was humbling to recognize the cultural similarities of a family coming together to celebrate the life of a loved one.

…To be continued…Part Two coming soon…

So I am in South America, trying my best to get a grasp on the Spanish language and a little girl starts talking to me. After using up my limited stash of words with a little small talk, I ask my friend “How do I say I don’t know in Spanish?”

“Why do you want to say that?”

“In response to her…I don’t know what she’s saying…” I justify.

“You can say I don’t understand, but to say you don’t know isn’t actually true…”

“What do you mean?” I pushed.

“People love to say I’m sorry and I don’t know… they use these words as a crutch,” he pointed out to me. “It’s extremely devaluing of yourself because even though you may not mean it, every word you speak has power.”

This got me thinking a bit more about language and suddenly I am all too aware of the words that slip out of my mouth which essentially disrespect my self.

Curious, I decided to explore further some of the common phrases English speaking cultures use, which essentially limit us from recognizing ourselves as amazingly capable creatures.

After all, language is not only an expression of our inner world, but it also acts as our primary filter of our experiences. It shapes our thought processes and is an essential tool in understanding how a culture, or individual, interprets and relates to what we call “reality”. Fundamentally, the spells we weave with our words have a profound relationship to personal empowerment.

Perhaps the most common phrase I tend to misuse is “I’m sorry.”

But, am I? Really? Why?

Sorry is a very powerful word that has been engrained in my subconscious mind since childhood indicating that I have “done wrong” and sincerely regret. Knowing the subtle power of the subconscious mind I’ve come to realize that in saying “I’m sorry” without reason, I am polluting my internal space with the idea that I am “not good”.

Yet, these words escape my mouth too often over trivial matters. Like, when I accidently brush shoulders with a stranger. I’ve since decided that I really want to say in such cases is, thank you or Aloha – a cheerful hello to my fellow life-walker (and no, I don’t care if they think that I’m strange).

Another example is when I find myself beginning an email with Sorry about the delayed response… The question is, why? Am I just saying it to sound good? Who am I trying to please? It’s important to recognize that in doing this, I program myself to feel even guiltier whenever I do not respond to emails immediately… After all, the internet is great, but I have a life offline too!

In other cases, for instance, when I get caught deliberately breaking a rule that I genuinely have no respect for (e.g. lying in the grass in a park, despite the “prohibito” picket to my right… but sir, the grass was practically screaming to be loved…).

Here, I feel that excuse me, pardon me or forgive me is a far more accurate expression of my being. By using these phrases with intention, I can acknowledge the fact that I am doing nothing wrong so long as my actions are in accordance with my own morals. While I know this now, I notice that sometimes I still suffer often from the sense that an apology is in order.

This need to apologise, when no real harm has occurred seems to me to be a conditioned cultural illusion that encourages us to seek confirmation of our choices. Alternatively, by saying “excuse me” I am able to extend an invitation to the offended, so that in “forgiving me” they may share a more functional relationship with me.

Of course, sometimes a real apology is in order, which is why I want to keep “sorry” sacred and honest. I particularly adore the Spanish way of apologizing with the phrase lo siento (which translates to “I feel it”). I love this because it encapsulates a richer awareness of our collective interconnectedness – recognizing that when real harm is done, the wound is felt by all involved.

So I’ve returned to Amazonia and I’m loving jungle life. One thing that I am really curious about here is the shamanic paradigm of superstition that surfaces here in the context of shamanic work. Here, one must be careful in choosing who to work with as there are many stories of fake shamans and brujos (dark sorcerers) taking advantage of people with black magic.

This got me thinking a lot a about what white and black magic actually is…

In my mind, the difference between “white” and “black” magic is simple:

Black magic almost always asks one to prove themselves – to sacrifice something as an offering. To recognize the “great power” of external forces and kiss their feet. Often this requires precise, complicated rituals – and a lot of dogma.

In contrast, white magic asks one to prove nothing. It works on the assumption that we are all worthy of alchemy as we are all one. Of course there is still ritual, but it is born out of a desire to show respect and gratitude to the magic at work. Like the gift economy of the old world, one does not have to sacrifice anything to make an exchange. Rather, there is a sense of karmic knowing that there are no debts.

For example, if I give you something, you might not be able to give me something in return right away, but you might give X something (s)he needs tomorrow and a week later, I might need something from X. In this way, the exchange takes on a circulatory formation.

Recognizing this, I see self-doubt to be a form of black magic, that is conditioned throughout our modern society as an effort to keep us locked in our sub-human form. This program works on the premise that one needs to prove oneself to be successful.

From my personal knowledge, I know that it is totally possible to succeed without the experience deemed necessary to confirm talent or skill. We humans are amazing creatures, with an even greater untapped potential.

As I look around at my own reality, I can already see clues eluding to my full potential as a cosmic human being. I watch my thoughts noticeably influence my reality – almost instantaneously. However, I can also see this self-doubt program of unworthiness runs very deep in both my own, and the collective consciousness. This self doubt is a powerful spell that encourages me to second-guess myself, resulting in a sense of  unworthiness when invited to reclaim my full potential – often on a subconscious level.

It’s time to break free.

As David Wolfe notes, “many people think limited, negative thoughts because they think they have to.”

To reclaim one’s true self, in any moment two questions should be asked:

1) Who is my highest and best self?

2) Are my choices in this present moment a true reflection of this image?

By contemplating this, I give myself permission to myself to authentically express the full essence of my being.

As my friend Ray Nedziak, once wrote in a poem:

“We have wings to spread and the urgent terrain of fear to cross.”

I dive far and deep into the swimming pool and resurface beneath the sun. I’d rather be swimming in the wild somewhere, where the water isn’t treated with chemicals – somewhere that I don’t need to worry about being found naked in my own backyard by another family member or a gardener.

Its not so much the fact that they might see me naked that causes me to be concerned – I am quite comfortable in my earth body alone or with others. No, it’s the fact that other people make it weird. I know this because I’ve been “caught” before – I laughed while they blushed and backed away, afraid to see me exposed as human – just like them. I long for the day when there is sufficient  context in our society so that a naked body does not need to be sexualized.

I look at the artificially clear water and laugh at yet another example of our culture attempting to control our environment. We swim in swimming pools so we can see the bottom; so we can know with certainty who or what we are swimming with. So we know for sure that we won’t be attacked by a shark or stung by a jellyfish because we don’t really know how to share our space with other wild animals. Such an upbringing led me to fear swimming in natural environments for far too long. Exposure was the only remedy.

This brings me to fear.

Fear is incredibly attractive, just not in any way that you’d want it to be. It’s magnetic in the sense that it’s fueled by our thoughts and emotions which are key ingredients for manifesting. But what is the purpose of fear being so damn creative when it ultimately leads to pain and suffering?

It’s as if Life is challenging us, whispering: live through this, as we are bought to face our fears, one by one.

Life’s message is simple: There is nothing to be afraid of. By experiencing our fears first hand, we are given the opportunity to realize that pain is never as debilitating or painful as we tend to expect. As the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali state, if you are not your mind, nor your body, who feels the pain?

With this in mind, both fear and pain become potential keys to seeing through the delusionary nature of the everyday world. Yet, the more our culture seeks to control our environment in an effort to minimize the risk of pain (as if it could ever be separated from life itself) the more our fears become augmented and attractive.

Fear breeds tragedy, yet with fear, we are shown not to fear.