Ayahuasca by Starbucks

I recently gathered my anticipations into one container & it reinforced my understanding about that ancient adage on not putting all eggs into one basket. Big time!

I have been on Shamanic Journeys. These were meditative, quiet events, filled with deep breathing & visions, with tiny wispy thoughts – almost inklings – things to understand or study, do & say. They were a bit magical, like unicorns walking delicately through my imaginary meadow.

I signed up for one such Journey with a couple of minstrels advertised by a church. They were excellent entertainers & that should have been my first clue. Like, Buddha didn’t come out in a hat & cane, skirting his robes about, twirling a top hat.

I settled onto a hard floor with a thin yoga mat below & a good neck pillow. The gal explained for a longish time what to expect while my mind drifted outside into the beautiful Sarasota Garden Club setting; the foliage in balanced array, delightful bloom, the breeze teasing greens into a dance, birds flitting & probably singing out there in the overcasting afternoon. She finally shut up & her husband began to play guitar.

He was still plugged into his amp so the music hit like a flash mob of chords & words & really good lyrics. I flinched as the floor instantly became harder & more brittle. I closed my eyes to the landscape & tried very hard to follow the wife who was loudly (also on mic) directing me to head “down, down, down.” Um, it’s Florida. One cannot go too far down without hitting much mud & the occasional reptile.

Indeed, the first spirit helper up – described in incandescent detail – was Serpent. And while, yes, Serpent is wise, she’s not cuddly or reassuring to meet first up in the swamp (not much forest beng accessible here). She hardly got to flicker a forked tongue at me before we were off to another place. Husband hit a few more power chords, got settled into the chorus & began to rhymically breathe. Well, if you can call breathing blowing into the mic at four second intervals supposedly leading our breath. Was Serpent to accompany me? Can I have another Totem, please? Reliability over wisdom seeming the wisest choice…

Husband lit into the guitar. His rhythm induced a charging breath; it is difficult to go into meditation when one is breathing in/out/in/out/in/out loudly & forcefully. It rather mimics a storm coming in & the immediate response of my body was shelter! Get off the floor & under a chair or something! That would have worked under other circumstances, but I was supposed to be “sinking into the floor” instead. Alas, I stayed quite atop the surface, not even nestling into the neck pillow. I was tensed & heading into adrenaline rush as we ran, not walked, towards the woods, Serpent forgotten mid-hiss, wisdom unheard. There were places to be! There were visions to be had! There was breath to be force-marched out of the lungs!

“Find someplace dark & intimate,” she suggested at the top of the speaker’s range. You are heading into a hole you see on the forest floor! You are over the hole & it is Time To Enter Within! 5 4 3 2 1 JUMP!

Jump? On these legs? With these hips? How about ‘float’? Ok, are you at the bottom of the hole? What do you see? Notice everything! What do you hear? Is there anything in the cave with you? [Hold on, lady, there was Serpent here a minute ago, is that the rustling I hear?] My eyes were still adjusting to the imaginary dark as we leaped in: 5 4 3 2 1 JUMP!

Ok, earth element dismissed, we headed for the next which was air. See those clouds? 5 4 3 2 1 JUMP! Now wait just a damn minute here – but in retrospect, that was all we got in between the elements. What do you see? Notice everything! What do you hear? Is there anything on the cloud with you?

Husband kept strumming, singing over her voice, suggesting all kinds of nature stuff to experience…feel the breeze on your skin, etc. Blowing into the mic every 4.5 seconds with nary an idea about taking oxygen in.

Feeling a bit ridiculous, I opened my eyes to see if anyone else was (dare I say it) falling for this. It was like marching off to Africa in full bombast & camo gear, canteens clanking. Off that cloud pronto – 5 4 3 2 1 JUMP!

I was feeling peckish at this point. I sat up to make sure I could get to the exit if I needed to without disturbing too many bodies. People were shifting on their yoga mats, eyes darting under closed lids. Too vulnerable, I thought, a bit embarrassed. I rearranged myself & laid back down.

We approached a body of water & I braced for entry as he sang about frolicking with dolphins. What do you see? Notice everything! What do you hear? Is there anything in the water with you? Wait, didn’t you just tell me I was in a dolphin pod? Yes! There are dolphins here. Did I bring my bathing suit? Is it my “God I’m so fat in this” white one or the slimming but utterly faded-from-the-sun black? Is the water cold? Who knows, we’re marching up the beach blowing, blowing. Off to the desert, hurrah, hurrah.

I am finished with this. I scrabble to my feet, now quite glad of the closed eyes cuz rising from the floor is no longer graceful or elegant anymore for me. I tiptoe to a chair, slip on my shoes, silently roll up the mat, grab my carryall, sling my purse onto my shoulder & turn away from the gathering to see my roommate beating feet out the silently closing door.

The walk back to my car was silent, meditative. The sound of sliding the credit card back into its wallet sleeve, the crunch of the solid door, the sip of cold chai left in the cupholder, the dingdingding of ignition & a quick drive home wondering what just happened here.

Check your intentions at the door. Chuck your visions into the Butterfly Garden. Pull your expectations of finding Totem browsing in a sunny meadow waiting to commune, cold-nosed & delighting.

What’s for dinner? Oh, salad. More greenery? Reached for the popcorn instead.