18th August 2016
Air, Earth, Wind, Water.
It’s been a while since I have been using those words often. I’ve even been describing myself and other people with them: “I’m so earthy”, “She is all firy”, “He’s very airy”, and so on. I quite like how the elements’ characteristics very accurately describe someone’s character. However, it was only since a few months ago that I started to feel the need to not only be aware of the elements, but to honour them – or at least to try to.
I first though that hon
ouring was merely being thankful to them for being there, for existing in our lives, but I think this stayed a bit short. After a course I took about Shamanism back in March I just started to understand what honouring really means. It means not just being grateful for their existence, but also showing them our gratefulness, our respect, connecting with them in the same way that we try to connect with people, i.e., talking to them, observing them, understanding them, respecting them, listening to what they have to say…
During my Shamanism course – from the best days I’ve spent in my life – I felt fully immersed in a world that I thought no longer existed. The world of our ancestors, that point in time where our people used to live in the nature, making use of whatever the nature was providing, and lacking nothing because all what one needed was there to survive, to live, to be happy.
The words in these pages are not meant to be about that course, but I do feel the need to mention it because this was the first time I felt part of that ancestral world, the first time I remembered that I once was them… that I still am.
My second time was a few days ago… with Hikurito as my witness, as my teacher.
Where to start? It’s been quite a journey to even get here. Since that course my body and spirit started to itch, telling me that I was ready to embark into the journey and be part of such a sacred ceremony like this. I felt there was just so much more to learn and so much more to see, that with our consciousness as it is right now it would be quite difficult to do. Luckily the opportunity presented to me not long after and I would have the honour to share it with people that I know and that I trust.
It all happened in Monterrey, NL, Mexico, one of the places where Peyote grows naturally in the mountains.
I had been nervous for days! For weeks even. I had no idea how the ceremony was going to be and I didn’t want to over-read about it or investigate thoroughly so to keep the element of surprise in it. But still, the fear was there, I guess the fear of the unknown. The only thing I could think of is that I was going to see everything what I have been avoiding to see: my ego, my demons, my shadows… all at once. And believe me… this felt quite scary. Just thinking about it gave me nauseas.
Its not that I am a mean person, or at least I don’t think I am, but I do believe we all have those shadows in us, that are fed by our fears and that don’t allow us to grow and to continue in our paths. I do believe I have some of them, because no matter how much self work I do about it, they keep coming, they keep showing me that they aren’t going anywhere, not until I fully accept them and integrate them in my life.
Ironically, the experience was completely the opposite of what I expected. I was quite surprised and I still am.
The ceremony was held by David Mazatl and his son: two beautiful and authentic souls who very humbly took us through every step patiently. They run these ceremonies only for their community, the Native American Church (or the Peyote religion), but this time they opened it to us for the very first time. Tlazocamati (Thank You) for that.
The whole cerem
ony lasted all night; from the moment the Full Moon was shining brightly in the sky, until the sun rose fully on the East. We were around 18 people taking part of it, plus them 2. It all started with a round of sacred tobacco. We made our own cigarette with corn paper and tobacco, passed it around and smoked at least 4 times thinking about our intention for this ceremony, asking the help of our grandfather Fire burning there in front of us to guide us into this process and to help us see what we needed to see, and discover what was needed to be discovered. I myself chose to work on the beautiful but complicated subject: Love. I had a few specific things in mind, which during the ceremony and even after it started to unfold. I’m sure that more it’s still on its way… and in various different presentations.
What came next was the sacramental eating of Peyote rounds. It came in 3 forms: fresh ones that had been cut that morning, a powder one and a tea. During the night the whole thing went around 4 times, slowly. Each of those times were divided by rounds of prayer, contemplation, singing and playing of the drum and the rattle. We also had a couple of water rituals, one for the masculine energy and one for the feminine. It was really special, everything and everyone in that circle.
In the first round when the plate with the fresh buttons of peyote came to me, I couldn’t believe what I was holding. I took my first button and smelled it. It smelled like Earth. I tasted it. It tasted sour, with the consistency of a fruit… Difficult to explain, but depending on where you bit, it could be quite a strong taste. Before I put it in my mouth I talked to him, and I said: “You are the one who will show me, who will teach me”, and while I had it in my mouth I thought: “You silly one… you are not the one who is going to tell him how to teach you….” And I felt sorry for what I said, and while eating the second piece I asked him to forgive me and promised to surrender to whatever he wanted me to experience. Silly me!
3 more rounds came next. And nothing really changed in my body physically, nor did I feel any strange effects, apart from nausea at times. One of those times I did threw up. I throw up easily anyways, but I felt in that moment that I was cleansing myself from something. Nothing major, it felt like something really impermanent and unimportant, but that needed to get out in order to allow the rest to go in clean.
The night went on. Slooowly. At first it was hard, very hard to stay awake and alert, but it was amazing to be there, staring at the fire, looking how it moves and changes colour, forms and sizes; looking at the changes in the sky during the night, changes that we are not conscious of because we are sleeping: the gorgeous Full Moon, the stars shining above us, the mountains changing colours, the spirits waking up at certain times of the night (when animals start making noise or acting strange), shooting stars saying hi and even a satellite passing by.
Suddenly after what felt like an eternity, the sky started to change colour to a clear and bright blue, where you could see the morning star shining and twinkling as bright as I’ve ever seen. It was then when the ritual of the morning water began. This ritual was held by a designated woman in the circle, a woman who was meant to abandon the circle to go and stare and pray to the morning star, and then bring the water back. She then prayed again in the circle with the sacred tobacco and passed the jug around. This was the water of the feminine energy. We then all drank from it… asking so that it teaches us how to be women, how to drop all those walls of protection and the “I can do it myself” arrogance, asking that it teaches us how to empower and support men, how to use our power for what its meant to be used, to give us subtlety and femininity… because with time we are losing this, changing the natural cycle of life and filling ourselves with masculinity instead.
This moment of the early morning really touched me. There was a pregnant woman in the circle, with her couple next to her. She didn’t eat Peyote but was part of the whole ceremony. It was beautiful to see the support that they gave to each other, being there and showing their love to one another, to the baby which was on its way, that baby who has been already touched by the magic of this sacred moment. It was really beautiful to see, and there were many lessons I took from just watching them closely.
I was really impressed on how the ceremony was held in such discipline, in such perfection. There was nothing happening there that didn’t have a meaning. No false movements happened. If something occurred by mistake (because for many of us it was our first time), there was a specific way to make up for it, to clean it and to bring the energy focus back to where it was. No person crossed a physical space without asking for permission, until little by little we started to understand that if we move the energies in the circle as each of us pleased, it could cut the work that had been done. Everything in that altar had a reason to be, everything inside that circle had a place and a space.
The men who were all night looking after the Fire had one of the toughest jobs I’ve seen during a bonfire. This was not a normal bonfire at all. This was the one who was going to take care of all of us and all of our intentions that night. It had to be on all night. The wood had a specific direction where it should face to, depending on the stage of the ceremony we were into, and even the hot coal had a special place where it should be moved to, at specific times. Nothing was set in that circle by coincidence or by chance – it all had a purpose.
To tell the truth, I thought that my experience was going to be all psysicodelic and out of this world, but nah ah… Hikuri decided to show me in a different way: a VERY subtle and loving way. I would have never imagined it. And fortunately enough, it’s still showing me. Days later I am still trying to comprehend my dreams, my day to day experiences, and the thoughts and memories that my mind and my heart are bringing to me these days.
I appreciate and am thankful for each second spent in that circle. Even if I was struggling most of the night to keep myself awake, or if at times I thought that that has been the longest night of my life… At the end it all was worth it: Meeting the spirit of the grandfather, having it in my body and knowing that once inside, it will always remain inside. Knowing that one does not choose Peyote, but Peyote chooses us, bringing us to the right time and place where we should be. Knowing that whenever I have a doubt, I can always go back to that sacred moment, those sacred images that I will always keep with me – images that brought me back to my ancestral memories. Knowing that even if I am not even close to explain what happened that night with words, my body and spirit will remember… and whenever I need it, it will again manifest within me.
To the spirit of the deer… Thank you. Tlazocamati. Gracias. Aho! (I am one with you)
“To follow the red path, is to follow the path of your heart…”
lifeyesbylaura 