For the purpose of protection all names have been changed, and you are free to write in you own figments to suit. Shiva would probably prefer it that way anyway.



Such enormous gratitude goes to the three women who had the clarity to recognize the need to share their home with the community, and bring us all the chance to accelerate.

Earlier last year, I was made aware of a guy who had been working with some waking locals in the boundless field of universal medicine. There was obstructions of a personal manner, at that time, that had me hold out from making the initial contact. Some of the obstructions I was encountering proved to be beyond the skills that I had, both personally and energetically, and it was in that state that I began working with Shiva. The consequences of the ensuing changes seemed dire at the time and for the many months that followed, as I began working into the bigger picture. From where I sit today, I can say that the empathy I accorded my self around my personal emotional struggle was an entitlement that lay a foundation for accumulating the strength to allow the shifting of consciousness that sees me here in Venezuela, with Shiva, Durga and Laksmi. More important still were the lessons that showed me beyond doubt that on the light path, obstruction is always imminent and though protections can be granted, diligence in your environment should precede any interaction that results in making choices concerning the adventure of the heart.

Well, in this adventure, obstructions have been prolific, complex in the sublime! Ill tell you about it when I see you.

After reconnecting from our separate flights, the group of us, and V and Maria, made our first ceremony on Sunday, be-fitting as it turned out, as our host is indeed a fervent devotee of Jesus Christ. It was clear from the outset that the nature of my trip here was not just personal, but also included the commitment to some work in holding space for the healing of black-magical threats and illnesses of others. References were relocated, names were changed, and ceremony began with the mechanical explanations of how the Shamanic Ecstasy of Consciousness functions as an energetic structure. In a word- super-conduction!

V is a powerful man. At this suggestion he would probably bare his well worn teeth, wrinkle his eyes into a perplexing wry smile, shrug his shoulders, turn to the fire, and grumblegruntgiggle a brief exhalation of latin-native indian-german-english resign. The weight of his wisdom in medicine, faith, the heart, and life on earth lubricated by genuine humility and the grace of God.

Well on the first night the lubrication was less obvious! Confronted by the culture shock of being in South America and sitting at the feet of a man of Catholic devotion in the context of indigenous Indian ritual, I can say that I was more than struggling early. As the site for our ceremonies was cleansed and the prayers began, I battled with the constant references to a religious and dogmatic Christ: past connections with the poisoning of the church throwing loops of resentment through the wiring, leaving me exhausted, and more than tight-bellied from just the fasting and initial tobacco ritual.

And it went on.

However the hours of prayers eventually dissolved my illusory fears, as V began reciting by heart, and with heart, calling up the myriad of ancestral fore-bearers of the Shamanic way, spirits of the totem animals, spirits of the plants, protective spirits of the cosmos, seemingly the entire pantheon Vedic Gods! and of course the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, the Saints, the angels and some of their mates too.

It became clear that to V, Jesus embodied everything he had encountered in his life so far, and a man with such experience at his back, doesn't need my respect. Whole lives, within a life, in Hindu devotion, Christian devotion, study of the worlds religious texts, shamanic medicine, occidental mental medicine, so much more as well as family, language, travel and personal achievements, would all arrive at the perfect moment, later giving substance to the visual morphing that is nearly constant in his face and form.

Those first 4 or 5 hours of prayer showed me my mental resistances, judgments and fears, and how grateful I am to see them absolved by the singular wisdom of the power of the love in my heart. And so we drank of the medicine of the cactus, surprisingly, we were given different medicines and doses for each. We then sat at the fire and waited.

Still as the medicine began to effect us each in a different time, V was not leaving much space to dream, his incantations were continuous for hours and his almost lecturing style had me fall in and out of connection, with the waves of San Pedro being handled by his sheer domination. Making a few cultural gaffs in ceremony, I - as Christopher, felt the sternness of San Pedro and at some indiscernible stage eventually fell into the total surrender to the plant.

Well......

To remark of just the light show would be remiss of me, not just because of the lack of respect it shows to the nature of the teachings of ceremonial medicines, but also because I have been recently advised by Mescalito, through Shiva, to begin making less importance of what I think my story in Shamanic initiation should look like. Last night, now 6 days into our work, Shiva took me to the heart of my keeper-ship and led me to the face of the healing required to fully align the prodigious and capable energies that await in support of the role I accepted to begin this life. To describe the grace and privilege and sheer excitement alone, again throws out the weight of responsibility that still stirs heat and nausea in my belly. And of course the resentment of facing up to the stories that till now I have vainly suppressed, to the detriment of the quality of my life, and potency of my work with healing through the magnetization and manipulation of spectral fields of energies. Thank you Shiva, for your seamless ability to instruct me in the tools of the trade.

Aho Metakuye Oyasin.

What I can say is that my initial meeting with San Pedro was ultimately a blissful and familiar encounter, that has opened already, universes of potential to arrive at the point that I am able to.

I’ll tell you about it when I see you.

Big Wednesday



There are few times when the privilege of our lives is not patently obvious. Perhaps a lot of us humbly forget how often we recognize this. There are certain experiences that stay with us solely for the unique nature of their unfolding. Wednesday night was one of those nights.

Our second ceremony began in a more relaxed and mutually inspired fashion. V and Shiva had already agreed to attempt the exorcism of Maria, a direction by Mescalito to Shiva in the last ceremony. We sat, we welcomed a new initiate, we talked, we prayed, we made ritual, and we drank and then again we sat. The pull through to the state of San Pedro was a little wearing, the medicines wisdom being in no hurry to expose itself or begin its teaching. We sang the heat into our hearts through V and Maria’s extraordinary repertoire of mantras both indigenous and Devic, devotional songs of indian folklore, Spanish catholic, Hare Krishna and simple rhymes mostly praising the good lord Jesus Christ. These vibrational offerings proving to be as psychoactive as the earlier nasal shot of pure liquid jungle tobacco. Tell you about that when I see you.

Borrowing from several languages, Shiva was attempting to explain that he was about to work in another language, one which he didn’t even know yet. I was impressed.V was unperturbed. Full trust and charming humility personifies our shamanic spiritual maestro.

Well, what happened next really depends on who you were at the time. It was obvious to me that we were in for something bizarre, as foot long t-rex-headed repto-worms began snarling, scurrying backwards as they appeared through the sporadically liquifying floor of the site. The fire seemed to be teeming with energies, but I was caught being able to hold a focus on these little big-worms, and I was more than transfixed. The natural reaction to close my eyes was met instantly with a clear instruction from the plant. ‘Pull down as much light as you can, Christopher.’

I was already siting cross-legged at the fire, my hands finding their own way into the frequencies of the new spectral realm, working like antennae, giving me a clear indication from where the process was coming, and where to hold light space for the now chirruping, squawking, and ripping work of Shiva and the sympathetic upheavals felt by us all, none more than our host, Maria’s soul twin, V.

My usual doubts that run alongside any of my conscious and intended extra-dimensional interactions found no foot-hole in my focus this time. It was on and it was urgent. I looked above from inside my head and was satisfied to see a huge spiraling electric blue/white light raising the sky and obliterating any sense of the massive Andean peaks that moments before where still visible in the weird paling night that we began with. I recognized it as available space to assist the healing and as I asked to draw it down, it met the crown of my head with a sudden change of perspective.

Now i was feeling, through my fingers, the story unfolding at the site, while i was sitting outside my body watching myself conducting this portal of christ, manifest as highly charged space. From this perspective it seemed as if the energy was hitting a skullcap shaped forcefield at the top of my head and was firing discriminate bolts of contracted loops in several discernible directions. The main one fed to the ground where Shiva was now carving up the obstruction. As he moved so did the arc of light. Where he flay extractions to the earth, bolts hit simultaneously.

A second followed V and hit the ground where his purgings lay disgusted. Less memorable were the many faster brighter flashes that shot out into the ploughed corn field, perhaps striking at the subterranean reptiles that rode side saddle to the bigger, dead-lost demon, black-cast into Maria over 12 years ago.

I could feel my hands monitoring clearly the spirt-scape that had so suddenly burst onto our senses, and so it was surprising to hear the occasional grunt or wretch coming from off my radar, so seemingly out of thick air. Scurryings at ground level also seemed to be out of sink with the connection I was being shown how to hold.

This lasted maybe some 20-30 minutes. All of those minutes I sat weightless but fixed. Pure heart space so rare in my recent life that I had almost no reference for the bodily feelings alone, and certainly little to draw from in regards to witnessing the unmaking of the dark-art manifest. A further 30 or so minutes of heaving, hooooching, hacking, scraping and searching, all with the same uncompromising resolve, and Mescalito had helped Shiva bring the voice of the Milky Way to the farmlands of San Rafael, and so these two men of the trees gave Maria back to the medicine, and V got back his medicinal miss.

Despite the presence of the unknown Senora N, herself there to work at the unwinding of black-witchery, never at any point was there doubt. My heart was filled with the certainty of Shiva, the magnitude of his capacity to hold the light of love to evil forces no myth in the lives of those of us fortunate enough to have stumbled into his shingle-less shack of divine intervention.

Last night went on to be an inexhaustible account of heart and fire, though for mine, the most significant moment of all, the recognition of an unfeasibly spiritful man and his hardweilded feral s(words), by a lucid old Shaman of experience and pedigree not explicable without sitting with him, San Pedro, and a healthy respect for the dangerous conditions governing the journey into the Shamanic Ecstasy of Consciousness.

Ill tell you about it when i see you

Aho metakuye Oyasin

Oh........

While i am Hollywooding the heros of this most illuminating occasion, I might add that what Peter Jackson couldn’t do with this script, just wouldn’t be worth doing. We were all there, and worthy in our walk ons- Durga and Lakshmi copiloted as the hobbits Peregrine Tuk and B, while Gandolph wisely took the back seat to the incorruptible Frodo, and me, fat Sam Wise eager to retreat and stuff his face in the relevant safety of the Shire.