In the service of the Queen

One doesn’t suddenly wake up one day and ‘decide’ to become a Shaman. The journey of the poet-seer, the wandering mystic, or the healer is a continuum which ultimately has no beginning or end, but is wholly sourced from the inner and outer world, the sacred and the profane, the spiritual and the sensual.

Even so, the ‘awakening’ of the Shaman, the Awakening of the Warrior Sage is a singular experience. As my spiritual journey has deepened, dramatically, over the past three years, I have had several such awakenings - moments of pristine clarity of the Truth of my existence, my purpose, and the omnipresence of Love in its many forms and expressions on this plane and others.

However, none of these awakenings have been so profoundly humbling as the journey I took recently with the Mother of all plant teachers: Ayahuasca. What follows, below, is an account of my initiation, my journey with the Great Mother.

On a Friday morning, July 3rd, my wife awoke from a dream in which she and I had traveled to the Mystery School so I could take part in the ceremony. She said that I was profoundly moved and changed by the ceremony, and that it had resulted in my gaining a cellular understanding of what it takes to make beautiful music and that I had so embodied the teachings that my speech was song and my movements were the rhythm of the Great Song. She said that I had “become Taliesin”, the Great Druid Poet of myth. I thought that it was ironic that my woman was more attuned to these energies (about me) than I am myself, so I took heed of the dream and held it in consciousness.

On Saturday morning, as we planned our 4th of July day, I got a call from a dear friend of mine, a woman who is like a sister to me. She left a message saying she had a proposition for me. When I called back, she explained that she wanted to offer me her seat, her experience, in the ceremony that was to happen that night at the Mystery School. I knew at once these energies had aligned, and after speaking with my wife, I gave an emphatic and grateful “YES.”

I traveled to the ceremony with another dear friend, a brother, and the journey itself was filled with anxious energy, if uneventful in its course. Upon arrival at the School, the dome in which the ceremony was to take place had not been completed. We contributed our efforts to the process, helping to pull a many-hundred pound cover over the top of the dome. Following that, we helped move some haybales into the space, then proceeded to place our stuff in the space. We managed to get a quick shower in before the ceremony began at dark.

We were invited into the space, where 5 Shaman were inside, sitting directly to my left, my brother to my right. The introduction and opening of the ceremony was beautiful, and my energy was high, if somewhat trepidatious.

As the ceremony began, the Shaman drank first from the Mother’s cup. Pouring in both directions, I was the first participant to drink following the Shaman to my left. As my cup was poured, I offered my gratitude to the Goddess for her abundance, for her daughters who made it possible for me to be there, and asked for her to be gentle. My intention was to be shown the greatest offering I have for the world and, if it be music, to know from whence the deepest connection to spirit could arise for my music.

I sat, connected but mostly unaffected, in the space for approximately an hour before I had a very acute feeling of being “held” by the mother. I felt her hands on my back and holding me from behind and below. This feeling lasted about 5 to 10 seconds before I ‘popped out’.

At this point, we were instructed that anyone wishing to drink more medicine could do so. In the opening of the ceremony it was noted that if you had to think about whether or not you were ‘in it’, you should drink more. Being with the Mother was an ‘obvious’ experience, and she would make her presence known fully if you were ‘in it’.

I waited for another half hour or so without feeling any effects, feeling very clear. Others around me were clearly on their journey, so I went up to receive a second cup. I again offered my gratitude and intention, but also asked the Mother to show me what she wanted to show me.

Again I sat for about an hour - maybe a bit longer, unaffected. As I began to wonder whether or not I should get a third cup, it began.

Rocked by the Mother

Slowly a motion came over me, an uncontrollable rocking motion that started first at the base of my skull. A nod, though a nod as if someone were moving the back of my head for me…slowly the motion spread into a gentle rocking motion, alternating with what I can only describe as an ‘unwinding motion’. I immediately thought of my teacher, Satyen, and his story of the Big Woman whom he partnered with at a Deida workshop, who brought him into her bosom and began to unwind him in this way. In this moment, I knew exactly what he meant.

As I continued to be rocked, I understood that the Mother was rocking me as a child. And I began to weep at the beauty and the feeling I had of surrender in her arms. Before long, however, she shared with me that I was not being rocked for my sake. I was being rocked so that I might understand why it is we rock our babies, so that I would understand - when I held my own child - why I would rock him/her. At this point I began to weep even more, and knew that I was being shown by the Mother how to be a father.

Giving Up

As I wept and rocked, She began to show me the things in my life that I had been doing were for myself. After this night, all that I do must instead be for Them. For my wife, my child, for the world, for the Goddess. EVERYTHING. And at this moment I realized that even my deepest purpose had originated from a place of ego, of wanting to give to others from a place of self, rather than selflessness.

As She continued to show me this, I wept deeply, as I realized I must give everything I held to be mine. I was no longer for myself, no part of my life for myself.

Around this time I began to open my eyes and saw a few brothers and sisters going back for more medicine. As one brother approached for a third cup, She shared her heart with me. And I felt, completely and fully in that moment, how much it hurts her, when she is not allowed to enter fully into the hearts of Mankind, when she is not fully received. I wept deeply upon feeling her longing, and understood why the open heart practices are so vital to moving life force through the body. She wanted to be received both as lover and as Mother, fully, in every moment. She felt great pain at not being able to penetrate the hearts of those who were asking for more medicine.

At this point in the night, the waves became increasingly intense, and as I began to understand and experience her power, I began my spontaneous internal mantra for the night, “Yes, Goddess.” This phrase repeated in my head after every vision, every wave, every breath, every time I opened my eyes to breathe in the room and to breathe with others.

Yes, Goddess

This mantra became both a praise to her, a total acceptance of all she had to show me - under any circumstance - as well as an offering to the room, to the world. “Yes, Goddess,” became a way for me to acknowledge that I was no longer even experiencing this night for myself, but was now living the true heart of Seva, of sacred service. My presence here was for Them and for Her - not for myself.

Before long, She grew stronger within me, and my prostration became more intense. Her demands more powerful, and my prostration more utter and more profound. At one point I felt so deeply through my prostration that I met my own death, felt the weight of my flesh hard upon the ground, with my spirit completely detached from it.  In this moment I knew death, and I knew the level to which I must devote myself to utter service to the Goddess and the World.

In a flash I bent over to my left, knocked over my bucket, and quickly righted it so I could purge. As I did so, she exclaimed, “NO! YOU’RE STILL HOLDING ON TO SOME PART OF THIS EXPERIENCE BEING ABOUT YOU. GET RID OF IT. ALL OF IT.” “Yes, Goddess.” And so over the next minute or so, purged the last of what I held as my own, the last of my smallness. Everything that I was holding I let go…

And I stayed leaning over my bucket for some time, perhaps 15 minutes, until my prostration and devotion was utterly complete. At this point She told me to sit up again, for there was more to see.

The order of events from this point was somewhat scattered, but what follows is what I recall.

Flattery

There was a moment when one Shaman was playing the Kora, a beautiful African instrument. As I looked over and saw this beautiful phallic instrument, I laughed because I “got” that it was a penis in praise of the Goddess. She smiled and said, “Of course. I like to be flattered.” She made it clear to me that service to others, devotion to my family and praise to her were all acceptable. Anything FOR myself, was not.

The Great Song

At one point of clarity, I asked her about my intention, and she told me that the rocking is the Great Song, Nada Brahma, the Oran Mór - the pulse and heartbeat of the Goddess, the rocking of all creation, the original pulse of the Universe. I felt through that pulse, beyond the Goddess to something even older than she. “Yes,” she said, “I have teachers, too.” I knew that this was the place from which my music must arise in order to truly be a vessel for the power of the divine.

Longing for the Goddess

In between the beautiful songs being sung by the Shaman, the peepers and bullfrogs could be heard. There would a fractionary moment of silence before they began again, and in this moment I realized that the frogs longed so deeply for the divine, for the Goddess, that they could not hold to silence. Their croak and peep was a longing moan for the connection to Her.

She asked me never to speak of her, never to tell this story, unless my words were able to convey the pain and longing in her heart - the feeling of being disconnected from the beloved.

She told me that I was never to speak, never to sing, lest it be in the service of others, my wife, my child, or in praise of her (see: flattery).

All night, I watched as the response of “yes, goddess” was transformed into the true spirit of Seva - of being utterly in service to others. I was so opened, that I said I was willing to take on whatever she asked of me for the sake of the others in the room. If she wanted me to purge more for someone else, “yes goddess”. I breathed for the others in the room who needed breath. This dance of inward illumination and outward gifting made it possible for me to truly feel that I was breathing and taking the world into me, and transmuting their pain in the fire of Love.

The Importance Of Men and The Mascline

During this night I was shown the importance of the masculine and men. The importance of the structure and container that we bring and hold for her to manifest in this world. I looked over many times at my brother as he sat zazen. I was so grateful for his strength that night, and so grateful for the gift that he was when I was able to hold space for him when he needed it. I was shown, too, that music - while a creative and feminine power - can be channeled through the masculine container, that as a creative being with a masculine heart, I can act as a vessel, through which the goddess can be revealed. It lessens my masculine core not a bit to be able to be the ‘banks of the river’ through which her love can flow. I really, really GOT IT this time.

And so my journey begins.