Prelude to Spirit Matters

Mystic Ink, Publisher of Spiritual, Shamanic, Transcendent Works, and Phantastic Fiction

A Waking Dream

I am outside of time and space where the normal rules of perception no longer apply. Colors with hues that defy description bombard me, then unfold in multicolored geometric progressions that could be microcosmic quantum expressions, or unfolding galaxies. Within these realms I have lived as an insect devoured by still bigger insects, which have in turn been devoured by lizards and snakes with long ethereal stomachs that have passed me into non-rational dimensions that both amaze and terrify.

Outside of my physical body the frogs, birds, insects, jaguars, and other creatures of the Peruvian Amazon fill the night air with their calls, cries, twitters, and buzzes. For me there is no difference between the infinity expressing itself outside of me and the infinity that I soar through inside of me. It is all one. Outside of time and space a noise from deep in the jungle sounds as if it is right beside me, startling me. Sometimes I feel myself fully present and aware in two places at the same time, often in different times and dimensions.

After experiencing the consciousness of predator and prey in the lower worlds, I have flown first as a condor, then as a hummingbird into sublime and exquisite high frequency realities exploding with neon luminescent pastel manifestations that defy rationality. While my spirit soars, my body quivers and my insides teeter on the verge of both vomiting and shitting.

I soar between agony and ecstasy as each experience awes my soul with a palette of emotions that range from heavenly bliss to a hellish, maddening terror that cannot be articulated, much less comprehended. I am vaguely aware of others sitting around me in the humid jungle night inside a circular open air hut called a maloca. Many of them vomit and sometimes cry out in fear or bliss as they pass through their own visions. I feel my soul connected to theirs.

Our visions are directed by the music of a white clad mestizo shaman who sings magical songs, plays different flutes, and a stringed mandolin like instrument called a charango. He is the keeper of a vast body of knowledge of Amazonian healing plants that dates back to prehistoric times. His specialty is a unique combination of plants that have brought me to this visionary state that continues to unfold outside of three dimensional reality.

In this waking dream where time and space become fluid, I not only soar through alien vistas of sight, sound, and feeling, I also travel through events of my life, both good and bad, often reliving them and their emotional content. Throughout my journey, I often confront hidden aspects of my self that have been ignored and denied because of the negative emotional charge that they hold. I sometimes vomit when confronted with something particularly unpleasant, which clears it out energetically in what is called a purge.

I have come a long way to this remote spot, deep in the primordial rain forest, far from civilization to spend extended time isolated in nature to learn what the plants have to teach me, especially about myself. To be healed I must confront the forces that have driven and tortured me throughout my life so that I can understand the lessons that they have to teach me. To get to their root, I must travel back to my beginnings so I can come to terms with the energies that brought me into this life.