Travels on ayahuasca - Journey #2.

Journey #2

Dialogue and notes at the 24 hour past zero mark.

24 hours past zero? I seem to be talking differently today and not entirely sure why except that 24 hours ago everything was, different. This was my second ayahuasca journey.

On reflection from the notes brought back.

It feels different to the last time. My first encounter was a completely serotonin fueled blissful awareness. She appeared so gentle and caring. But I feel her spirit stronger than before and already I can feel her knowing smile. Or is it a smirk, I can control the direction of this can’t I? She seems very serious tonight.

My intention is to learn who or what spirit is trying so hard to contact me. I am told quite clearly that it is time to learn to "listen more effectively to the sound in the quantum gaps, without using my ears." What does this mean? The direction given sounds almost absurd, a little too profound or too foreign. How does one listen without ears? She hints as to the answer as synesthesia envelopes me and I watch the sound without looking. Where am I?

I open my eyes at the end of the musicians’ first performance set of the journey and see my spouse in line. It may have appeared to her that I didn’t want to communicate with her, that wasn’t so. I am moving between worlds. Rapidly fluctuating. It is as if an interference is beginning to form in the frequencies between dimensions or so it feels, but I am not feeling anything except very present and yet completely oscillating. Keep breathing, open mouth more, sit up straight, breath through nose, and roll over in two to five minute segues. Constantly checking myself, am I doing this right? Her reply is always emphatically "stop judging this." Am I dissolving as this happens?

No, I can see my body, now I can’t. Immediately my attention is directed away to another immersion. She touched her eyelash against me, my cheek, my right cheek. She is enormous in stature. Green and purple skin, oriental in a way, yet perfect. At first it looks like makeup but it is her skin. Upon reflection, there was no racial feature that stood out at all. It was more like some profound ancient intelligence. She is of myth. How can I take a photo here?

Use your art to send the message.

It is an ancient beauty, so soft.

I seem to get agitated with the safety of it all. I need a real answer tonight, I want proof that you exist and I want to see these dimensions for myself. It has been an intense week traveling and learning. It takes a lot of effort for my family and others helping us to do this work. "Stop judging me as well, stop judging this, in fact, stop judging everything!" she sternly warns.

What is this, "where is my lesson?" My self appears as she departs and breaks my heart.

She abandons me, I am absolutely alone in a sea of my life. The crest of every ripple in every direction is an aspect. It is not water, more like a magnetic framework or viscous bond. Everything thinly three dimensional, notwithstanding I was floating in a plane.

My stomach is churning and I feel like gagging. It is a heavy load.

4 hours past zero

She has left me.

I shrink to a singularity, but there is something familiar to all of this. Was it big bang… "stop judging this!" This theory is just that, it is what it is, you need wisdom to understand. The impression falls that there is more to this but not for now.

I hear sound everywhere in every direction I seem to be moving in. Is there sound in every dimension? It seems as though there is, "stop judging, there is sound in EVERY dimension."

Where is the nurturing and sense of bliss?


I am abandoned.

My instincts have failed me.

So many around me sound so happy and in love with it all. This is fucking killing me.

I have to hear without listening. I should practice my art more carefully from now on, it has great power. At first the sounds I make are unbearable. Where am I now? Somewhere before a fifth dimension? The oscillations are everywhere, so many harmonics that are not consonant, nor dissonant. Are they real tones, I can’t hear like that, are they overtones? Am I playing in the cracks correctly? I begin sculpting musical shapes using colour in a very course way, like a child making shapes in clay with their hands for the first time. It feels interesting but weird. I am in a new body-like thing, utterly matter-less.


I don’t feel better for this, but it is not about the emotion. Transitioning back to this layer I feel terrible. It has taken every ounce of energy to travel through this. I have seen the galaxy, felt the galaxy, was the galaxy and been turned inside out.

I am working in a language I don’t understand and trying to interpret it to English.

About 8am

I sit up isolated, surrounded by friends, loving friends, and a loving wife, shattered.

We eat together, talk about matters. I am overwhelmed, confronted by death and art. Life and loss. I am completely lost. Where is the lesson? There is great advice from the circle. Was it my mother abandoning me again? No it wasn’t. But a terrific analogy of how it feels.

After I talk, and listen to the admissions of all present and advice, all so incredible and beautifully meaningful. She sinks a message into me, "I am proud of you."

I do not feel better for this at all. It must be the vegan diet I laugh to myself.

My attention is drawn to the windows at the front of the building. I watch a rocking chair on the front verandah moving in the breeze. Gently rocking, back and forth with rhythmic patience. As if a smiling elder were watching the mountains enjoying their comfort. There is great wisdom sitting in the chair.

In a shocking, face slapping, jaw dropping moment, the chair stops, dead still. Adrenalin fills my body. I can hear my heart thumping hard! There was no breeze. If anyone were looking at me at that moment they would have seen a shocked inspired and deeply humbled person. "There is your proof, take it with you into the world."

We traveled back to town describing our journeys, my spouse disappointed and myself mystified. My other two friends trying to help. Maybe it was an initiation, comes a suggestion. I think in hindsight they are right, maybe. But I saw a ghost and felt it through every nerve. I say out loud "be careful what you wish for on these journeys." My intention was answered in a way I had never expected it to be and I was left trying to understand it.

Home again

My daughter is unwell. I pick her up from her classroom smelling of the night just past. Dressed out of context in yellow happy pants, black shoes and a white tee-shirt I am the fashion statement of a mixed up mind. Occasionally questions are asked of me as to why I am clothed this way, I shrug them off as unimportant. A long night meditating I answer to anyone who must know.

A short sleep and back into the real world…hmm what is more real about this? My beautiful kids give their all at a concert. Then of course she rockets in when I least expect it. I am trying to hold back the tears in a hall with some three hundred parents from the school.

"No initiation is earned without great struggle and pain." Otherwise nothing is brought back and remembered. The memory of the initiation is as important as the process.

"Practice your ritual and use your magic. Your music has great power, use it very responsibly." How do I do this? The answer is of course to simply practice in the right way.

I am now of this place, of this land and allowed to walk between worlds. Last night my old self died and death proves itself to be a hard transition to master.