Ceremony 5

September 7, 2009

Teeth with Eyes



Prior to this ceremony we drank the last of the previous groups yage, the next day we prepared a new batch of ayahuasca with about twenty different tree barks and roots, additional plant helpers (We also brewed Sanango into this yage batch…) The spellings are going to be a little ‘off’, though here’s a list of some of the plants in the tea, we also had an eight day dieta with these:

Sanango, Cap’e Rona, Widda Caspi, Ia Umaa (The Headless Giant),
Punga Negra (The Black Anaconda), Punga Ammareya, Waka Pu Ranna, Waka Pu, Bobeen Zanna, Low Puna.

This ceremony, by far, is the strongest, most emotionally taxing journey I have taken to date. The notes may jump around a little since I wrote them down in a kind of stream of conscious process of recalling.

I went into this ceremony wishing to heal my mother and father of any and all of their dark material, anything I could do to assist them,
to retrieve parts of themselves lost in traumas, deaths in their families, etc.

This journey started right away, picturing me chained/tied down to the ground of Hades or what might be termed as the bardo; a desert wasteland and an immense empire of strife, pain, extraordinary evil and lagoons of the most heart wrenching suffering I‘ve ever collectively felt for this amount of time: I estimate that this ‘visit‘ lasted from 10:30 till 5 or 6AM.

A message came to me during the journey that said, “This will help your mother” or “This suffering will help your mother.”

While tethered to the bardo, I felt cosmically abandoned, this sensation saturated my entire fleshy body, cellular-ly… I felt as though I were being burnt, changing into a sort of skeleton and decaying. There was a point where I experienced myself as a dense, charcoal skeleton trying to lift itself off the ground.

The weather felt ’transparent’ in that although the impression of its effects were with me, the actual physical weather wasn’t; it was as if the essence of a desert wasteland that had experienced thousands of years of heat, war, bombing and hot arid ash plumes was permeating me ‘invisibly’, working on the dehydration of my heart and hopes.

Blankets of ash and worms/maggots lay on me (I would come in and out of this state and experience it ‘dividedly‘ in the ceremony house as well… This was a place where Death does not die, where pain and evil radiate, dives, thrives, constructs hibernations/hives… The kingdoms of degradation, filth, rude sex acts, torment, shame and psychotic annihilations churning to produce more of the same for The Same.

The main landscape/architecture colors here were white, black, red, gray, brown, muddy bluish and possibly gray-purple too.

The scenes that I saw were of a level of horridness unimaginable to me in this world I live; the detail was astonishing, more real than this world’s pictorial realism or anything I‘ve ever witnessed in Fantasy Artworks ; it was as if the visuals were over-lifed, imbued with a sort of exaggerated presence and overwrought attention to detail.

The information too was spirit crushing, in that I could perceive the emotions of these impressions, that these scenes expressed both a pictorial horror and fear-plot of loosing my life/mind and a dimension of themselves, the distinct aspect of evil that they symbolized, but rather ’were’; there was no concepts here, only pure perceptual reality…

There were absolutely no trees in this place. Everything in the landscape was either ’built’ or of an organic substance, like walls of
living-dead bodies and roads of blood and waste… Pigs eating the dead and drinking their decayed sludges; I could discern their munching and snorts…



A Deeper Descent of ‘One Form’

Infanticide was another one of the phenomenon experienced here… Living piles of bodies, foothills of bodies… Seemingly these bodies were un-individual, of ‘One Form‘, theme or consciousness, belonging to an aspect of whichever particular neighborhood of Hades I was being toured through. I did not choose to go where I did, I was being lead…

At some point I recall grabbing the elephant necklace that my mother gave to me and sending messages of love, wishes to heal her, my father, my step-brother Chris, my previous wife Laura and her son Christopher. Asking Laura and Christopher to forgive me for all that had occurred during our divorce process…

At some point in the journey I was laying down and could see a dark shadow moving quickly inside me, darting here and there, trying to dodge those looking down on it from above…

A multitude of fairies on seahorses arrived on the scene and began shooting arrows into me… I felt it as they hit, seeing the arrows enter the dark areas.

During one segment (most likely towards the end) I saw sheets of butterflies, a sort of healing ’bandage’ of sorts appear nearby; this may have occurred in the places where I was working to transform my mother’s and father’s dark material…

I witnessed the neighborhoods of Hades, ‘The’ mansion and armies of evil. These were made of huge slabs of decadent marble and curiously enough, these buildings were immaculately clean, although their surroundings were of the most horrid waste and torturous open-air chambers…



The House of Geometric Sinning

I entered the house of some sort of robotical/android feminine demon… The personal-ness-feeling of the house was overwhelming, everything was exquisitely laced with the most diabolical precision, it was as if the information of evil had been recorded in the interior design of the house…

I could discern/intuit her nature, her status and power through some sort of ‘Object-emanation‘. There would be a fight ensue here later in the night, a conquest to the death. Her sentimental attachment to me was of an order that does not belong to the Earth, or what our souls as human incarnations know or usually can perceptually grasp; although, in the soul dimension I could perceive these levels of attachment and possession/possessiveness through another sensory function. If there is such a thing as Evil-love, then it was she who was a high priestess of this ’tomb’.

She was robotic/insect like… A high-tech robo-walking stick. I also recall aspects of ultra thin blades and straight, very taunt spider webs. Magnetism comes to mind, narcotically hypnotic. Again, she seemed very attached to some ‘structure’ of me (within her own lifestyle).

Her dance of evasiveness and procuring of more diabolical time…

The sensation of being annihilated, existing as Annihilation.

Love and trust fading in and out, like a dream, a daydream in a cocoon of pain.

I recall that there were several ’members’ of her household who were fatally wounded (severed main arteries) and bleeding to death. The nervousness felt around their time bleeding out. The bleeding was not stoppable in the bardo. I do not recall seeing their dead bodies, though do remember feeling their sense of urgency in their last minutes.

Remembering that the robotical-demon’s main artery had been cut into and that she was bleeding to death; the sensation of its death’s footsteps nearing.

I am not entirely sure which ‘god’ or light-force did this damage; vaguely I sense that it was the Anaconda’s rampage, though too, it may have been a lateral result of the larger battle to take place later…



Brujo or Curendero?

I recall being given (This may have been a separate dream journey later in the proceeding day?) a multi-edged dagger of some sorts, a hand weapon and being explained to that it was a Brujo/black wizard-instrument and being told what powers/abilities I’d have while wielding it… I gave it back and declined. I recall that it had runes carved on it and possibly flourishes of vines, etc.



Mother and Father Storm Clouds

Towards the end of the night, possibly mid-morning, I entered the pain-locale of my father’s and my mother’s pain in Hades. These were distinctly different places, not mixed together or related in any way… Each locale was profoundly their own and I could feel this being-mood communicated to me throughout the ordeal…

I experienced all night, an oscillating of Love and Trust. Sometimes this would enter the bardo as a sort of theme…

Throughout the night, in intervals, I experienced allot of dry heaving, going to the bathroom and not being able to ’go’. It seemed that the yage and Sanango were working deep within, keeping the medicine in as long as possible. It wasn’t until the journey was absolutely over that I purged by going to the toilet, by the light of the new morning.



Arrival of these Parental Inheritances

I found myself in a wasteland, fires and darkness in the background, the air was wet with pain and locked down suffering, like a record album of the most horrid pain, skipping over and over…

In this place I saw an old house and a shed out back: In this house was a serial killer man, a sort of sex offender… Locked in the shed out back was a little black boy who had been this man’s victim for what seemed like an eternity or at least many years.

I opened the door to the shed, gave him new clothes and explained to him that “You can freely leave, its safe, you’ll make it, go…” He left...

I recall going to the house of the man, cleaning him up, telling him that “I forgive you.” and setting him free of this vicious circle. I believe he may have experienced a moment of positive-ness and remorse of conscience, a sort of freeing catharsis… At this point I recall that a large part of the bardo/Hades also became green grass and filled with flowers.

In another scene I met a little girl (who I assumed was somehow either my mother, a ‘shard’ of her soul or a soul associated with her.

This little girl had a huge secret, a secret concerning an item of jewelry she had, its story, the immense circumstances leading up to its existence, its invested energies, etc. Eventually I discovered that it was a locket with no pictures in it…

I vaguely recall that she shyly went from room to room and some brief places outdoors, being not sure about revealing this ’secret’ to me, i.e., sharing it; she was so used to possessing it as un-share-able and ‘an issue’ stuck in a sort of rigid resentment…

I wrote: The little girl that ‘I found’, her dark, pent up shame, dirty dress: going/living in one’s own toilet… Her primitive rage and bardo condition and its exactness of being there: At first her secret was shown to be a book or journal, though I believe that later it was revealed to be a locket containing no pictures; a parentless child?

In this place the little girl lived in a white & black/gray house: I went to this house and added color and beautiful objects/furnishings, etc. Also I gave greeneries to the surrounding yard and possibly a few plants/flowers… I believe that I also gave the little girl new clothes and cleaned her up.

The father-place (locale) in the bardo additionally revealed extreme anger and rage at my birth… I experienced a part of my consciousness as the sperm cells lit up red in their background/plasma by his anger.

I wrote originally, “…experiencing myself as enraged glowing red sperm cells exploding. Father disgusted with me (guilty conscience?): issues of possible molestation, extreme abuse… I have not ruled out that I was experiencing his father’s reaction to him, i.e., his body-soul’s conditioning, treatments and inheritances.



Hades Players

I felt throughout my journey into these places, the psychotic presences of various ’players’ in the bardo: I am not sure what I meant by ’players’, only that it may have something to do with objective aspects of Hades and those beings embodying those ’keys’ or subjects of psychoses.

The mingling of my consciousness with those of these beings was an immense onslaught of emotional anxiety and stress, bewildering insanities and life draining desperateness at times of the cosmic sensations of hopelessness and endless dirges…

I moaned throughout the night as I would wake up time to time and look around the ceremony house while still energetically latched to Hades. My sleeping mat had become a virtual wasted magic carpet, grounded and filled with layers of weight and entrapments…

I witnessed the different geographical stages of the bardo, i.e., the various layers of landscapes, the low lands, kingdoms, riverfronts, houses and settlements.



A Masculine Continuation

Further into the experience a demon surfaced, associated with my father, somewhat taking on an aspect of his identity: It was claimed (in the scene’s own third party intelligence-communication to me) that it was dead, though in the bardo there was a small hint that it was hiding in the thick forest bush, out of sight; although its presence ’there’ was not validated… By the end of the journey, this threat or ‘doppelganger’ seemed to dissolve, fade away from legend…



The Mermaid Archer

There was a point where (As I, my body, not consciousness, was pictured as pinned down to Hades all night) where a mermaid showed up, in the air above me and began stabbing a long spear/trident-sort of polearm into me, as another, larger, single dark shadow moved quickly around in me, trying to dodge its aim.

I could feel these stabs and also the immense back spasms due to the Sanango ingredient. There were moments where my consciousness would travel about in Hades, though now that I am rewriting this account I sense that my body or a part of my spirit-body was latched on the ground the whole time… I believe this shadow was eventually ‘hit’.

I visited a house where there lived a group of very diabolical demonic ’girls.’ They were in their early twenties, having very twisted sexual drives, perverted and maliciously insatiable. Nothing happened here, it seemed to be a sort of ’show and tell’, like many visits, where I absorbed immense amounts of data via the emotions and psychological issues emanated by these ’beings’. Around the neighborhoods of these houses were roads and ponds/puddles of maggots, feces/filth eating pigs and body parts nailed to furniture…



Demon Rising

This occurred between 12 and 2 AM ~

When dry heaving up the ayahuasca, I would feel that I got a sort of ’yage-spirit-smoke’ in my face, saturating into my jaws and around my eyes (smoke = fumes?). This felt insufferable, particularly for the demonic possession within, its ’nature’ was enraged and thoroughly menaced by it…

I recall being the demon’s consciousness, that the tobacco, ayahuasca burped fumes bothered it, irritating its comfort, its resting place inside me. I remember the demon’s evasiveness, defensiveness, pain of nearing a departure/exorcism, i.e., ’her’ attachment to me as ’home’ or ’lair’. Her twisting, rising and falling in my physical body, wearing it like a suit of poor flesh-armor, her growls and guttural soundings and even a little of what sounded similar to throat singing.

When Luco (the shaman) was at a distance from me, rattling his fan (10-15 feet) I could feel the breeze from it in the other dimension (while I was in and consciously outside of the possession), the fan’s wafting into the yage dimension as I was seeing him with my eyes and by the demon’s viewing that was in me…

The feeling was/is that the medicinal-forces are the ’ones’ who initially ’get at’ the malevolent within and that the shaman is a sort of protector of that process so that the doorway remains unobstructed, focused, true, etc.



The Possession and Galactic Confrontation

This episode had various stages throughout the whole experience, I do not feel that it happened all at once, instead, that it had its own chapters wedged inside the ’General book of Hades’, although it may have gone from A to Z without any other themes, plots, etc. in between. For the sake of reading I will write it out as a non-stop episode.

The demonic possession embodying me (A full blown possession) Two or three demons (Possibly a transformation of one into a ‘next’ of its same self?) One made of charcoal bones and one of a tiger/serpent spirit. The third may have been a memory of a transformation in-between these two as one consciousness.

There was a point where I was struggling with this demon’s hold on me and I envisioned a great black anaconda wrapping itself around the demon, trying to find its real head to deliver to it the fatal ‘latching onto.’ The demon had several fake heads, one being deflated/wrinkled in a false strike by the giant black anaconda (The Spirit of Punga Negra?)

Eventually the anaconda found the real head and latched on it; I could see its massive body twirling around the demon’s and that it was not going to let go, ever: Intuitively I could feel that it had laid out its destiny to be such a being in that moment to hold on till the death.

There was a point where Luco came over to me and started rattling his leaf fan and the demon (half tiger and half serpent) rose up in me,
while my physical body followed. It confronted the shaman with growls and hisses… It sometimes felt like two of me at the same time; during which I could discern the irritating smell of dust, smoke, etc. in the ceremony house.

I wrote in the original journal entry: Experiencing the struggling between the anaconda and the demon… I believe the demon was eventually killed.

In this struggle there began a huge parade in Hades (as a counter response), evil pageantry marching down huge, wide opaque quartz-slab thoroughfares, white marble; a pageant of the Hades militia taking place in a goliath castle of sin and doom… And the great puking, bleeding, withering, wrinkled and bloated messages, a sort of living gear of psychosis, condition and aspect…



A Cosmic Godhead move on the Board

In this battle, suddenly a scale change occurred and I found that the battle took itself to a cosmic height, i.e., appearing up in Space, above the Earth: I witnessed a Mayan god appear on the scene, in the form of a giant golden mask/face, larger than the planets themselves, and the god took my dark energy and began moving it into the sun to burn it away; I remember seeing it enter the boundaries of the sun’s rays and its slow fading away by the immensity of the flames…

Suddenly I saw myself appear in space, on a sort of battle field or sport arena: I was putting on some sort of shamanic outfit, calling up my totems and preparing to fight the main evil ’composition’, i.e., the collective evil deity/demi-god.

I saw the totems appear on the armor suit as types of living-jewels, sculpted objects, armbands, inlaid/inset motifs; tiger, crow, hawk, etc.

I wrote: Looking back and seeing the sun burning through the malevolent black substance that one of the Mayan gods had lifted up.
I do not recall that the battle between myself as a shaman-outfitted with my powers and helper spirits took place; perhaps this is where the Mayan god appeared and stepped up to ‘play.’ The mask by itself seemed to be alive, one great golden colossal head and headdress, like a spaceship moving forwards…



Messages

There was a message at some point that arrived about being someone ‘so in control and constipated in the heart.’ I believe that this ’thought’ may have come to me after the night-journey’s ending.

Throughout the evening (towards the end of the journey) I felt a culmination arriving, messages from the process that I had hidden something very deep, that it (the medicine) was getting to it and that a complete nuclear scream was on its way: This sensation of a shattering annihilation pending was awesome, emotionally nearly impossible to contain… It now reminds me of the tactile-psychological state I experienced in my third ceremony with the feminine and masculine demons (the temple and crib-room).

Additionally towards the end, there was a scene between a husband and wife that showed their only choice (final reconciliation) to end their sense of dread and entrapment would be to kill/shot one another with a single gun that was laying on a square coffee table between them. I could emotionally feel this heightened sense of death arriving, the absolute hopelessness embracing the moment; this was an enormous ‘Now’ that seemed to stretch forever, wringing me out…



Morning

In the morning there was an extra cleansing of my energy/spirit that would take place: I was sitting at the breakfast table, absolutely spent… Luco came inside and looked at me and motioned for me to come outside, I began to tear up at the table and then took a blanket with me… I knew that he had acknowledged that something was unfinished inside me, some residue… I left the table and he lead me to the ceremony house where he sat me down with a plastic pan, put a line of perfume on my forehead and began singing an Icaros over me:
I began to dry-cry, aching and dry heaving into the bowl… I could feel extreme stress issuing up through my face and neck, this quickly subsided and it was finished.