LESS EGO / MORE SOUL

Just wanted to share this here for those of you who are interested in following my musical career… This was my first radio show Tomer Rozenblum on 106.2FM in Tel-Aviv. In addition to choosing the playlist, I got to play some of my own songs live with some incredibly talented musicians – Ohad Bar (vocals) and Asaf Rachimof on lead guitar. So far this is all I have online but I am looking at professionally recording a few tracks later this year. If you like what you hear, please show your support by liking my Facebook page! Enjoy!

Original Link: https://soundcloud.com/jiveny/keep-moving-with-jiveny-tel

Set List:

Thrill – Jiveny

Smoking Gun – Lady of The Sunshine

Cold…Shivering – Jiveny

Wasted – Mazzy Star

Why Do You – Ohad Bar & Asaf Rachimoff

Restless Sinner – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Jet Plane (Cover) – Captain Generous

Wolves – Jiveny

Another Blue Lady – Winter Moon

The Fragility Of Intimacy – Jiveny

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Update: A New version of my single, Cold…Shivering (The Piano Sessions) is now available on Soundcloud for download. You can also find it on YouTube here. Sharing is the currency of the internet, so if you like, please share it with your friends. 

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…

I wish I was blogging here more, however, I am currently working on a book and enjoying some down time with my parents. Plus, the last few months I’ve been traveling around Central America, immersing myself in the moment, seeing beautiful places and spending time with even more beautiful people.

Anyway, in the interim, I thought I’d share this poem I wrote at burning man last year with you.

I am the beauty.

The more beauty I see

the more beauty comes to me.

We find each other

when our eyes are equally open

and our minds equally ready

to accept all the beauty,

wonder and grace that we are.

Generosity is the only way to express

this gratitude that permeates all that is,

shedding light on what it means

to be alive

and witness us.

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…

I have been on the road for about three months now, and I have travelled to what I would say is the most beautiful place in the world. These mountains broke my soul, in the best of ways, taking me into a divine state of grace. With tears in my eyes and a dove in my heart, I felt satisfied and whole at the sight of beauty. I hope you feel this way sometime; empty and complete, full of gratitude, wanting nothing, needing nothing more than what is present. And the beauty of the world does not stop with the land. I have also found it refracted in the souls of many who were once strangers to me.

We were camped out in a valley in the Andes, nowhere in particular. The days were warm and sunny but the nights were crazy cold. My sleeping bag wasn’t really enough up in the mountains, so I would often Every morning I would wake up with numb fingers and toes. This is what got me out of my hammock, to run up the hill, over frost covered grass and sumberge myself in the warm waters of the natural hot springs. From dawn till midday, I’d stay naked in the hot pools, bathing and talking with new friends. As the sun rose over the mountains, we would gradually migrate down to the cooler natural swimming pools. The first week at the festival was a little isolating at times, as my spanish wasn’t very good and not many people spoke english, but by the second week my spanish had improved a lot and I made many friends.

I remember meeting David from Switzerland when I first arrived. From the moment my hazel eyes met his, soft and  brown, I  found myself crushing on him big time. He was perfect, bar the fact that he could not speak a word of english.  At first we both tried to communicate through our pigeon spanish, but it was frustrating and we both soon gave up (his first language is french).

A week later, on an ominous, rainy night, I went to check on my friends tent… Beneath the moonlight and raindrops, mud squelching beneath my boots, I made my way between the tents of “Camp Avalanche”. This is the name we had jokingly given the tents parked at the base of the crumbled mountainside.

I found my friend’s tent cold, damp and vacant. There was nothing I could really do about it while the rain was still falling, so I zipped it up and began to walk back to the kitchen where everyone was huddled. I’d taken about ten steps down the hill, when I heard the music; the most incredible, beautiful music calling me to find the source. I saw candlelight in a nearby tent. It took me a moment to find the courage to invite myself in, but when I finally did I was welcomed warmly by David and his Swiss brother from another mother: Jonathan. The two of them were so beautifully inseparable.

Tired and wet, I lay curled up like a cat in their tiny tent letting their melodies and rhythms wash over me as they  played my dreams into reality. What touched me most deeply about their music was that it was all improvised, never to be recorded or heard again. This was it and i savoured every note, tasting its flavour as it come forward and then melted into the greater composition of the moment.

Then the moment ended. Or changed, rather. After an hour of non-stop jamming, they were tired, but I didn’t want them to stop. Jonathan opened a box of cookies and passed it around. “Do you play?” David gestured, offering me the guitar. Swallowing my insecurities, (talk about a hard act to follow) I accepted the guitar and began to play and sing one of my own songs. It wasn’t long before  David picked up the other guitar and started to play with me. Then Jonathan fumbled for his flute and we played together in a timeless reality.  Without the need for words, music became our language and we jammed for another two hours, loosing all sense of time and pain despite our cramped positions, being three people and two guitars in a two-man tent.

Eventually we emerged from the tent, smiling, so god-damned high on life. The rain had ceased, the clouds parted and the moon was full.

After that it became absolutely necessary to jam together every day. We needed our fix.

Click here for part two.

You can read Part One here.

Today I find myself back in Cusco, sitting in the sun talking of loneliness with a timeless friend. If there is one thing I have discovered about myself through travel, is that I am not the lone wolf I once believed myself to be. Yes I love my independence and would never seek to have a relationship based upon dependency, however taking a very literal leaf out of a good friends book, I’ve found great value in following the trail of loveliness, walking the road with only the most beautiful people that grace my reality. I flow with those who make me feel good and feel blessed to find kin so easily. Community is key for me these days and I am delighted to watch it develop around me wherever I go. There is only love here, and so much love, at that.

Where in the past I  have valued solitude, these days I am all too aware that it is not the places I visit, but rather, the company I keep, that brings satisfaction in my life.

I am also learning to give and give and give and give, for as I give, I create space for me to receive more and more and more and it is the transience of these gifts that grace my reality which really excites me. And people are such divine gifts, for we can only go so far within ourselves, by ourselves. I believe it is the contrast of an alternative reference point that really allows one to grow. I see my connections manifesting perfectly as I become the medicine for those around me just as they become the medicine for my own personal development. Sometimes this comes in the form of a challenge – an invitation to transcend old programming as our interactions highlight egoic attachments that it is time for me to let go of . Other times, this human medicine is in the comfort of another’s arms and as they lend their ears and mind.

As I wonder through this hall of mirrors, I also become a gift to others through our interactions, naturally providing what is needed for them to grow. In turn, I have met shiny, shiny beings who live up to Marianne William’s manifesto. They remind me to be myself without fear as everywhere is a safe place to express myself. The implicit message is, a universal truth… if you are okay with every aspect of you, then the rest of the world will be too.

They say the jungle is not feared by the saint; that pure thoughts keep one safe from harm. If this is true, it must be the same in these cities which sometimes feel colder than they really are. I am learning to accept that I don’t have a dirty mind, that my intentions are always pure and how blessed are the amoral. Everything I do is okay. Adulthood is a myth. My choices are right and there is no need to doubt myself or suppress my desires and dreams as everything I could need or want is here for me. All I have to do is trust and it is given.

Sitting in the sun, we went on to discuss loneliness as a state of being vs. an emotion. One thing I have been really learning to do is letting emotions flow through me like food and water. I believe sadness and loneliness to be fleeting emotions, rather than lasting states of consciousness. That is, unless I allow my ego to engage in their illusions. Its become a yogic practice for me to consciously not attach to such emotions, knowing how the Ego loves to personalize emotions and create attachments through stories. I want to stress that this doesn’t mean suppressing emotions like sadness and loneliness. Rather its about giving myself the space to feel these things, without justifying them with a story.

Looking back, I can see patterns in my past where I actually believed that holding on to pain and sadness was worthwhile. Like it gave me a place in a twisted world focused on pleasure, pain, loss and gain. I wore my pain like a badge of honour, as if I had “earned my stripes” to be here. As if I needed this pain and sadness to fit into a world of lost souls. These days I choose to see things differently. I notice how more often than not my mood is affected by my environment. It’s not so personal. When I  am aware of the stories my mind likes to create to make my emotional state relevant to reality, I can detatch from the emotions that I do not enjoy and allow them to fall away like water off a ducks back.

Saying that, I can also recognize the beauty of contrasting emotions and the important role they play in allowing me to appreciate the good times, which is why I am prepared to feel them fully from time to time. Lying on my back, my eyes to the sky, I can let everything be as it is, with gratitude as I recognize that I am still alive and breathing. It is moments like this that I am able to tap into amazing states of interconnectedness, where I feel that no matter what becomes of this physical body, I will never dissapear.

Sometimes I wonder how sustainable this lifestyle is and how I can make it easier and more wonderful for myself. I have my doubts from time to time but it is these profoundly familiar moments I share with once-upon-a-time strangers that reminds me that this is what I want. A life of moments like this, where I feel at home with new friends, as if we have always been together, we are meant to be together, and the spontaneity of our interactions were always preordained.

People often ask me how I manage to travel so much, so here’s eleven tips to make it happen for you.

1. Save. As you already know, to travel, you need to get good at saving. I have a separate travel-savings account and essentially put all of my discrepancy income in there as soon as I get paid. And once it goes in, it doesn’t come out until I’m actually booking my trip. On top of that I have a regular transfer set up of $14/week inspired by Chris Guillebeau’s comment: “most people don’t realize that if they just put $2 aside each day, they could go on an international trip every 2-3 years”. This brings me to my second tip…
   
   
2. Don’t buy dumb shit. I try to lead a minimalist lifestyle and when I am in a frivolous mood I browse op-shops (it’s always more fun than regular shopping). I also buy all my food, fresh and organic form the local farmers markets for less than $50 a week and keep eating out to a minimum (I prefer my own food more most of the time anyway). It might seem painfully obvious, but I watch so many people around me buying crap they don’t need on a regular basis.  Listen up: it’s about quality over quantity. My own personal mantra is live simply so that you may simply live.
   
   
3. Learn to Share. Following on from my last point, sharing at home is a great way to save and ensure an abundant and luxurious lifestyle without the financial debt. If fashion is your vice, organize to swap and share clothes with your friends. If you’re looking at getting a new thing (e.g. surfboard, kitchen appliance or whatever else) at least consider the option of sharing the costs with your housemates. In terms of on the road, share your everything– your food, you’re clothing – whatever you have, and watch it manifest three fold.
   
   
4. Travel light. I once met an inspiring man who traveled with little more than the clothes on his back. I’ll never forget what he told me “the more you own, the more you are owned”. This is an invaluable reminder. When I travel, I take no more than three carry on size bags, and I can usually get away with taking it all on board with me when I travel domestically. This also allows me to save a little on airfares. I promise I’ll do a more in depth post on this in the future, but for now, its suffice to say that less really is more. Thoroughly consider what you take with you. You want to be prepared but not over prepared as this will only weigh you down.
   
   
5. Learn to detach. We all love souvenirs, so in the vein of traveling light, it can be nice to shed belongings as you go. I have a loose rule; whenever I buy something I give something away. Its cool to know that there are parts of me scattered all over the world with the people who have bought light to my journey. This can also be an extra kind of currency and keeps things fresh and interesting. As the streets put it “I came to this world with nothing / and I live with nothing but love / everything here is just borrowed.”
   
   
6. Travel hack. Do your research. Sign up for email alerts on upcoming travel specials. If you’re traveling domestically – book your own flights. If you’re going international, talk to multiple travel agents to get a good deal and don’t be shy to ask for a better price. Once you arrive, talk to the locals to find out where the best cheap eats are, along with any other conveniences like free internet.
   
   
7. Network. Couchsurfing.org is such an amazing resource for the savvy traveler. My own experiences have only been positive. For those of you who haven’t heard of it, Couch Surfing (CS) connects travelers with potential hosts, encouraging a worldwide network of avid explorers. It’s a great way to save on accommodation expenses and meet amazing people!
   
   
8. Develop a talent. Busking is a great way to support your travel habit as you go. Whether it’s making music, dancing, performing or making art, do not be afraid to put yourself out there. I know it might seem daunting, and believe me, if you told me I’d be busking eight months ago, I’d tell you you’re dreaming. But honestly, I’ve found that it really adds to the travel experience on so many levels. Firstly, you get to recoup some of your travel costs – I’ve made up to $365 on a good night, and funded most of my Tasmania trip on just a few hours of jamming. Secondly, it’s a really fun way to meet people – I enjoy it more than clubbing. Thirdly, it’s just a really cool way to share your art with the world. Ultimately you want to develop a skill that is portable, cheap and most importantly enjoyable.
   
   
9. Volunteer. Festivals are so much fun, but they are also a lot of work to organize in order to run smoothly. More often than not, event-hosts will offer workers discounted tickets and food for a half-days work, so it can be really worthwhile enquiring. Make sure you get in touch with the organizers early on though as such opportunities tend to go fast.
   
   
10. Make travel an educational investment. When one travels personal growth is inevitable, sure, but are you making the most of the opportunities? Travel can be a great way to pick up a new language or unique skill that could well inspire your future livelihood. There are plenty of NGO’s around the world that offer unique learning experiences – often including accommodation and food for little or no charge.  WOOFING is a great example of this, as travelers are offered free food and accommodation in exchange for working just four hours a day on organic farms. Plus, it’s a great way to learn about gardening and sustainability.
    
    
11. Be spontaneous. There is an old Huna proverb that states “Energy flows where attention goes.” When I hear about a festival or a nearby town that sounds like a place worth visiting, I simply make the choice to go there. I don’t worry too much about the details – just book a flight and let the rest fall into place. In terms of budgeting, I usually base it on my usual spending + and extra $50 per week. This budget generally covers my food and transport and the odd local attraction. In the words of Nike: Just do it.

Dear World,

Happy New Year!

I know I’ve been rather quiet these past few months, but its been important for me to get away from this cyber trance and get dirty with experience so that my words actually hold some relevance and meaning.

So, in November I set off around Australia again - this time exploring the NSW Hunter Valley, Sydney, the Blue Mountains, Melbourne, the Great Ocean Road, and the Mornington Peninusla. To top it all off, I spent my new years, closing the year full circle at ConFest (where I also started 2011). It was so great to connect here with so many of the beautiful people who have coloured my journey this year. It’s  also been so refreshing to spend a lot of this time close to nature, sleeping in my hammock under the stars again. I have no doubt this year is going to be a good one!

Already I have a year of gypsetting travel planned, starting in February with a tour of Tasmania. Later this year will see me returning to Peru to dive back into the depths of Amazonia as I look to learn as much as I can about traditional shamanic healing and working with superfoods and other plant medicines. I’ve also got plans to witness the desert madness of Burning Man, reconnect with old friends in San Francisico and explore Central America.

Just a heads up – this will mean irregular blog posts, so don’t be surprised if I dissolve into silence for a while. However, if you would like to keep in touch, take a moment now to subscribe to the blog (by entering your email in the box, top right). This way you can rest assured that I will always resurface in your inbox at a later date as your subscription to my journal will send new blog posts directly to you.  This will save you from having to check back here.

You can also keep up to date by friending  the Less Ego / More Soul page on Facebook or following me on twitter @JivenyBlairWest.

Wishing you a great year ahead – may it make you feel alive and awake and manifest all the wild and joyous dreams of your own divine imagination.

Love, Jiveny

Imagine living in a culture where magic exists, where spirits are commonly communed with, where to understand the fullness of what is really happening all around you, you must drop all preconceptions and open your eyes – really wide.

Well, that’s where I’m off to on Tuesday; into the heart of the Peruvian jungle, to walk the line between the visible and invisible. I’ll be on an ayahuasca retreat and then off to Brazil to rejuvenate.

In the meantime I’ve been reading the incredible experiences of Peter Gorman in his book Ayahuasca in My Blood and it’s blowing my mind.