Ayahuasca, part 1- HELL

Dear ayahuasca,

I had no idea how much power could be in a plant.The wisdom of mother Earth itself. Thank you for helping me, for putting me face to face with your beautiful teaching about fear and love, about the raging hell and the soaring absolute heaven present in all life, this planet and my own little soul.

DAY 1
HELL

First, before attempting to describe one of the most powerful experiences of my life, I would like to clarify something about the profound shamanic healing therapy that the use of the master-plant ayahuasca is. It is not to be taken on lightly, in fact it is one of the most powerful (read-difficult) ways of healing. The practise has to be entered first with courage and second with faith. Even if we do not have a faith system of our own, we do have to have faith that the shamans and the people involved during this process, know what they are doing. Never under any circumstances is it for people who simply want to see visions and just to have some entertainment, diversion or an experience. It is a time-honoured pure and natural gift from the deep jungles of South America, it is an ancient wisdom of the shamans for the purpose of healing and nothing less, and it has to be felt, respected and honoured. Before the actual intake of Ayahuasca the shamans were doing for us a ceremony of coca-leaves, asking permission from the plant itself and from Pachamama (Mother Earth), asking whether we had enough courage, enough heart, enough faith. It took some time for the favourable answer to come, but the ceremony did force us to unite as a group and get into the right spirit. 
And even then- with respect and just barely enough courage to enter, one should be prepared to come face to face with the deepest darkness of oneself even though of course everyone hopes to see some light. It is in fact the darkness, that is intended to be released and that is the main purpose of this pracise for if we had no darkness we would not even be on this plane of earthly school of life. With this note I will try to share how truly astounding and helpful this therapy can be. 

Fear. 

After the first session of ayahuasca, I am truly shocked that I have survived and I am astounded that no matter how much I was convinced at that time that I was dying, I am still here. Fear is indeed a thought, just like the shaman said. But oh my god- did I have a lot of that.

It started with a little cubic swirling demon-clown peeking into my vision- peekaboo! There wasn't anything threatening about this figure, or from hindsight about any of the scenery and characters I encountered on my 3-4 hours long vision quest. Yet it's hard to describe how it makes one feel to suddenly be in an altogether different reality, to have everything one is accustomed to and depends on, taken away. So when all of a sudden I was in a universe I can best compare to surrealistic cubic art- with all kinds of shapes like triangles, squares, but more than that- grotesque, moving, living shapes- coming at me at full speed and frightening intimacy, I was not prepared. It was a full universe of not only picture but also sound, all the formations were making horrible loud clicking, grinding, ticking sounds (later the shaman explained that this is the way the ayahuasca plant wakes up in the nervous system, a sign that it has reacted with the brain). Also the sounds of people vomiting all around me did not help to ease me into it, rather made everything more hellish. The vision shapes were not just objects, yet they were not fully alive either, there was something cold about it all, empty of soul.. It was like a huge surreal circus, also akin to being inside a huge multi-coloured clock, every devilish cube and tube kept winding up and coming at me.

I tried to open my eyes but the vision was there even with open eyes. It was at this point when everything spiraled out of control for me. Suddenly I felt the nausea which is the main cleansing tool of the vine Ayahuasca. The mixture used actually consists of two plants. Ayahuasca, the vine, acts like a carrier for Chacruna, another plant, which is the component that carries the active ingredient of DMT- also known of late as the spirit molecule. The Ayahuasca helps the Chacruna carry the DMT to the brain, after which it exits the body via a purge. A stunningly beautiful and perfect process of nature. 

The mixture had been swirling around my circulation for some time now, it was so easy to feel it from the first few minutes- a bit like a surge of electricity, a hot stream, bubbling at times like a hot spring of Mother Nature. It started by descending to the stomach, down my arms and legs, making a circle and moving up through the spine to the brain which is when the peekabooing started. Almost everybody vomits it, the shamans hold the vomiting the most important of the whole process, as a tool to get rid of the bad energy accumulated through the years. The more you vomit the better and if some poor souls go through 5-7 sessions of only purging and no visions, tired and disappointed at the "only negative", the shaman will smile and be happy of their progress. Some people have difficulty keeping the bitter brown liquid down for more than 5-10 minutes, I managed until about 15. And then things got really ugly. 

The setting of the therapy looks a bit like an army hospital at night. Mattresses lined up against the wall of the "patients". Darkness because the eyes cannot handle light during this process. Next to each of the mattresses the essentials- a bucket for purging, tissues for cleaning up, a huge bottle of water. And of course the participants, all wrapped up in warm clothing and sleeping bags as one of the side-effects is also freezing. 

So after 15 minutes the nausea was incredible, never-before experienced in my life. And the visions were all-encompassing, devouring me, drowning me. The vomit was the plant mixture come to life, engorged into a huge black-green vine-serpent. The bucket was a huge long black tunnel, where I was falling down along with the serpent next to me, circling me, which was at times turning into a demonic face which was making purging sounds and telling me- purge! I felt it was the vine itself speaking to me. So I purged, it was impossible not to. It was impossible to stop, the nausea just kept growing. Suddenly I could not move my head and I had to gasp for air. The collar of my jumper felt like it was choking me, killing me. I kept wanting to hide under the blanket to get away from it all but there was no getting away. I was concentrating with all my might to breathe, relax, change the vision, but nothing helped. I needed tissue and water but whenever I tried to feel around me for these, firstly the movements made me too sick and secondly I had no idea where I was or of orientation. Everything I managed to touch was soft and fuzzy and the wrong shape and texture. I felt I was losing control over the whole of my body, paralysed in fear. I kept trying to breathe as I held my head.

At some point I realised that the shaman was singing and that the helpers were making a fuss around me. I had heard them talking around me for some time but I was convinced it had nothing to do with me, so removed was I from reality. I couldn't make out any words, they seemed coming from a million miles away, also it seemed I had forgotten all English, none of the words made any sense. The fuss they were making made me feel two-fold. First- it was giving me a tiny bit of hope, just to vaguely know that there was somebody out there, far far away from the circus of animated cubism where I was, but there. At the same time it made me feel more nervous about my current state, I knew I was bad, but until then I had no idea that I was the only one having problems at that time. Why was everyone so quiet, why weren't they gasping for their lives like I was?! 
I had forgotten that I am highly sensitive to stimulation such as this, over-sensitive compared to most people, had forgotten to tell the shamans to have a lesser dose. But it was too late of course. In hindsight I know that the dose was too much for me, but I also know that I was helped so much namely because of the extremity of the experience and that there is a deep wisdom in life which never gives us more than we can handle.

At this time, though I was far away from the voices next to me, I heard a clear and loud sentence from a young 15 year old shaman apprentice (a very talented girl, in real life seeming like an ordinary teenager, but during sessions proving herself highly powerful and intuitive)- OPEN YOUR HEART! I knew this was the truth and what I had to do. I felt my heart closed, over-powered with fear and blocks that had accumulated in me which I kept releasing but which kept growing back. 

Because all this time I had been gasping over a bucket, there was a time when one of the helpers had removed it to empty it. At one horrifying moment I had no bucket, I was feeling like another purge, yet I could not open my mouth to ask for it, I could not move my hands to locate it, I was powerless, helpless, sick in torments of hell. After the helpers finally returned me to my tunnel of flying serpents, the bucket became the most important thing in my life, all that mattered. I kept feeling it. It disappeared you see. While it was under my hands, the whole molecular nature of the world was twisting constantly and sometimes becoming absent altogether. The bucket swirled, disappeared, I could never be sure if it was there, if it wasn't, the space around me was empty and not empty at the same time. Had I entered some kind of quantum reality of uncertainty?- it certainly felt like that. 

The Universe gone cubist, soulless and clownish was still raving away at me. I was drowned in it, utterly lost, with no power at all. I honestly thought that there was no come-back from this reality for me, that I would stay lost in it forever, thus forgetting the exactly opposite point the shaman had made in the preparatory talk, where she asked us to remember, no matter how we felt, that nothing lasts forever, ayahuasca, like anything else has a life-span in our bodies, an energetic curve. In other words the teaching of anicca- things always rise to pass away. 

How long passed I have no idea, it was a timeless hell. But there came a point when I heard and finally understood what one of the helpers was saying to me- relax, just relax.

So I tried again. At first I couldn't understand where was my bed, I still couldn't sense this reality. The longer I kept my eyes open and concentrated, the more I started to see however. I was on my bed still- yey! Only sitting diagonally over the bucket, that's why I hadn't been able to find anything. Slowly I lay down and after many more bouts with nausea and sitting up again to dry-purge, I could at last, with one hand on my life-line the bucket, just to make sure it was still there, rest for a while. There were still the physical feelings, of freezing and being on fire at the same time, but I was alive and back.

Other than facing terror I managed on that first night to also open my heart. While the helper was leading me down the stairs later to go to the bathroom, I felt my heart burst open in the sweet pain of over-whelming love for her. She was leading me a small step at a time, I was completely blind and I felt so much humility and gratitude, for the helpers this whole scene must have been so hard, so difficult to witness, and to try to help- when the people are as lost as that, on the border of staying lost. I hadn't felt that moved for a long time. 

And coming back, resting and relaxed, still under the effects of Ayahuasca, I heard a thought- BEHOLD BIRTH. When I looked at my experience with this thought, I understood. I had asked from the plant to help remove the blocks for me in my path of self-realization. It's crystal clear to me now that the only obstacle I ever had was fear, from a young age. Fear of this insensitive world, fear of failing, fear of succeeding, fear of taking the first step, fear- first and foremost- of not being good enough. In order to remove that block- fear, there was nothing else to do other than to put me in the deepest fear possible. And what is the deepest fear? For some its death, I have met death and made peace with that. What is the next in line as to the fear-experiences though people tend not to remember this one? Birth. Looking at it, birth seemed exactly similar to my vision. A dark long tunnel and a completely alien world around me all of a sudden which makes no sense and because it is completely unknown and alien is utterly terrifying. Shapes we don't know coming at us, talking a language we do not understand, it's just sounds, shapes, colours. Us being completely helpless, we have no control over our bodily functions. We want to tuck away somewhere warm and dark, a comforting place that is our only experienced reality at that point. Oh the compassion I now feel for a baby being born! What a trauma!

The day after, like a new-born babe, I felt like crying all day. The whole day-time, spent alone and in noble silence, still mostly in fasting like in the day before, I was preparing myself with meditation on the heart. I knew the heart was the key, I knew that all that was necessary for this experience of rebirth was love. I was scared to death of the next session, but the shaman had promised me a small dose and I couldn't leave the process half-way, come what may. 

A musical interlude- some of my favourite Estonian ethnic folk

Where else to go other than to more music and back to the roots. Sharing a few of my current favourites from Estonian ethnic folk scene. Enjoy!




Chorus: "So much life So much light So much silence and  graceful clarity above the sleeping fields"

This one's an old Estonian folk song about a girl who's being tempted by men with gold and silver, but she blows them off and lives for herself and the beauty of the world.

"He promised to carry me in his arms for my whole life

And to give me the treasure below the end of the rainbow

I replied to him: ''I'd rather drown myself than give in to the temptation of gold!''

Up and down, with un-tied hair I swing down from the edge of the sky 

Free as a bluebird
To fly here and there
when love and joy fills my chest
It's beauty that keeps me in this world"

"From within darkness 
I find my head
So you never have to 
stay beside me as a guard
Once again I am buying stars
from the sheer light of the sky"


And finally one of my all-time favourites, this ethnic metal band is simply class. The message of it nicely tying up to my previous blog and forming a circle..

"Everyone has a song of their heart Its different for everyone Everyone here has their own song but I can't find mine"

Ikaros, true names, and preparing for Peru

Only one measly month to go till another adventure, another exploration, this time in South America.
It was always the shamanic culture of it that called me, even though I have experienced that also in my native Estonia, which is still somewhat embedded with the same traditions. Same same but different as they say in Asia. :)

Anyway I very much intend to go to the core of it, all or nothing like always. These past couple of days have been spent in preparation for a part of the journey I am at once both most excited and also most nervous about. Research about the shamanic healing tradition with the plant mixture ayahuasca. If such a thing as research is possible.

One of the most enthralling and magical parts of the research has been the introduction to ikaros- plant spirit songs. It's simply such a beautiful idea that I have no trouble at all in trusting and that has an ancient wisdom behind it which I believe we all intuit through our collective unconscious. To basically believe that every single entity- plant, human or mineral, and even concepts such as peace and fear- have their own individual waving pattern of energy and sound. Similar to mantras in the East it also coincides with the concept and notion of a True Name. 

"A true name is a name of a thing or being that expresses, or is somehow identical with, its true nature. The notion that language, or some specific sacred language, refers to things by their true names has been central to philosophical and grammatical study as well as various traditions of magic, religious invocation and mysticism (mantras) since antiquity." See the page on true name in Wikipedia here

The notion of a true melody is to my mind an evolutionary step higher from a true name. How beautiful to envision that every single entity has its own melody, everything has its own song, and if we know this song, we commune with another truly, through the very essence!
Here is an example of ikaros- a clip from a beautiful documentary on ayahuasca "Other worlds" which you can watch online here



"One of the most striking features of Amazonian mestizo shamanism is the icaro, the magic song, whispered, whistled, and sung. The term icaro may come from the Quechua verb ikaray, blow smoke for healing, or perhaps from the Shipibo term ikarra, shaman song. The icaro is given to the shaman by the spirits of the plants and animals, and the shaman uses it to call the spirits for healing, protection, or attack, and for many other purposes as well — to control the visions of another person who has drunk ayahuasca, work love magic, call the spirits of dead shamans, control the weather, ward off snakes, visit distant planets, work sorcery. As one mestizo shaman puts it, you cannot enter the world of spirits while remaining silent.

Communication between the shaman and the plants through the icaro is two-way. Francisco Montes Shuña says that the icaro is the language of the plant. “If you have dieted with the plant and have not learned its icaro,” he says, “then you know nothing.” The icaro is the language by which the shaman communicates with the plant, and through the icaro the plant will reply.

In possessing these songs, the mestizo shaman is not different from shamans found among indigenous peoples throughout the Amazon, for whom songs are a key element of the healing ritual. Anthropologist Jean Matteson Langdon considers the South American shaman to be distinguished from the ordinary person in three ways that constitute the shaman’s power— the visionary experience, the acquisition of spirit allies, and the acquisition of songs. Among the Araweté, “the most frequent and important activity of a shaman is chanting.” Anthropologist Graham Townsley puts it this way: “What Yaminahua shamans do, above everything else, is sing.”

There are thousands of icaros, and shamans assert their prestige depending on how many they have in their repertoire; an experienced shaman will haves scores of icaros, perhaps more than a hundred. The uses of these songs are as varied as the needs of shamans. When the icaro arrives, one may know its use immediately, or its use may become clear as one continues to sing it. There are icaros for calling, for protection, for learning, for exchanging knowledge, for healing". Src

"One ayahuasca vision showed me how all levels of existence, including material and non-material levels as thoughts or feelings, have vibration, or sound underneath their surface manifestation. If one can reproduce the sound, vibration, or "song" of that which you are working with, you can enter into it and change it around! The shaman does just this using themselves as an instrument to effect the joining." Luis Eduardo Luna

Warrior of Light- Paolo Coelho

Painting from summer 2012, I think I shall name it "Alchemy", and will elaborate on it in some later blog perhaps... It simply seemed to fit the theme

Excerpts from "Manual of the Warrior of Light" by Paolo Coelho


A warrior of light knows that he has much to be grateful for.
He was helped in his struggle by the angels; celestial forces placed each thing
in its place, thus allowing him to give of his best.
His companions say: 'He's so lucky!' And the warrior does sometimes achieve
things far beyond his capabilities.
That is why, at sunset, he kneels and gives thanks for the Protective Cloak
surrounding him.
His gratitude, however, is not limited to the spiritual world; he never forgets
his friends, for their blood mingled with his on the battlefield.
A warrior does not need to be reminded of the help given him by others; he is
the first to remember and makes sure to share with them any rewards he receives.


A warrior of light knows that certain moments repeat themselves.
He often finds himself faced by the same problems and situations, and seeing
these difficult situations return, he grows depressed, thinking that he is incapable of
making any progress in life.
'I've been through all this before,' he says to his heart.
'Yes, you have been through all this before,' replies his heart. 'But you have
never been beyond it.'
Then the warrior realises that these repeated experiences have but one aim: to
teach him what he does not want to learn.


A warrior of light is never predictable.
He might dance down the street on his way to work, gaze into the eyes of a
complete stranger and speak of love at first sight, or else defend an apparently absurd
idea. Warriors of light allow themselves days like these.
He is not afraid to weep over ancient sorrows or to feel joy at new discoveries.
When he feels that the moment has arrived, he drops everything and goes off on some
long-dreamed-of adventure. When he realises that he can do no more, he abandons the
fight, but never blames himself for having committed a few unexpected acts of folly.
A warrior does not spend his days trying to play the role that others have
chosen for him.


Warriors of light always keep a certain gleam in their eyes.
They are of this world, they are part of the lives of other people and they set
out on their journey with no saddlebags and no sandals. They are often cowardly.
They do not always make the right decisions.
They suffer over the most trivial things, they have mean thoughts and
sometimes believe they are incapable of growing. They frequently deem themselves
unworthy of any blessing or miracle.
They are not always quite sure what they are doing here. They spend many
sleepless nights, believing that their lives have no meaning.
That is why they are warriors of light. Because they make mistakes. Because
they ask themselves questions. Because they are looking for a reason - and are sure to
find it.


The moment that he begins to walk along it, the warrior of light recognises the
Path.
Each stone, each bend cries welcome to him. He identifies with the mountains
and the streams, he sees something of his own soul in the plants and the animals and
the birds of the field.
Then, accepting the help of God and of God's Signs, he allows his Personal
Legend to guide him towards the tasks that life has reserved for him.
On some nights, he has nowhere to sleep, on others, he suffers from insomnia.
'That's just how it is,' thinks the warrior. 'I was the one who chose to walk this path.'
In these words lies all his power: he chose the path along which he is walking
and so has no complaints.


Every warrior of light has felt afraid of going into battle.
Every warrior of light has, at some time in the past, lied or betrayed someone.
Every warrior of light has trodden a path that was not his.
Every warrior of light has suffered for the most trivial of reasons.
Every warrior of light has, at least once, believed that he was not a warrior of
light.
Every warrior of light has failed in his spiritual duties.
Every warrior of light has said 'yes' when he wanted to say 'no'.
Every warrior of light has hurt someone he loved.
That is why he is a warrior of light, because he has been through all this and
yet has never lost hope of being better than he is.


A warrior of light is never indifferent to injustice.
He knows that all is one and that each individual action affects everyone on
the planet. That is why, when confronted by the suffering of others, he uses his sword
to restore order.
But even though he fights against oppression, at no point does he attempt to
judge the oppressor. Each person will answer for his actions before God and so, once
the warrior has completed his task, he makes no further comment.
A warrior of light is in the world in order to help his fellow man and not in
order to condemn his neighbour


A warrior of light is never in a hurry.
Time works in his favour; he learns to master his impatience and avoids acting
without thinking.
By walking slowly, he becomes aware of the firmness of his step. He knows
that he is taking part in a decisive moment in the history of humanity and that he
needs to change himself before he can transform the world. That is why he remembers
the words of Lanza del Vasto: 'A revolution takes time to settle in.'
A warrior never picks the fruit while it is still green.


The warrior of light knows the importance of intuition.
In the midst of battle, he does not have time to think about the enemy's blows,
and so he uses his instinct and obeys his angel.
In times of peace, he deciphers the signs that God sends him.
People say: 'He's mad.'
Or: 'He lives in a fantasy world.'
Or even: 'How can he possibly believe in such illogical things?'
But the warrior knows that intuition is God's alphabet and he continues
listening to the wind and talking to the stars.


For the warrior there is no such thing as an impossible love.
He is not intimidated by silence, indifference or rejection. He knows that,
behind the mask of ice that people wear, there beats a heart of fire.
This is why the warrior takes more risks than other people. He is constantly
seeking the love of someone, even if that means often having to hear the word 'No',
returning home defeated and feeling rejected in body and soul.
A warrior never gives in to fear when he is searching for what he needs.
Without love, he is nothing.


The warrior of light is a believer.
Because he believes in miracles, miracles begin to happen. Because he is sure
that his thoughts can change his life, his life begins to change. Because he is certain
that he will find love, that love appears.
Now and then, he is disappointed. Sometimes, he gets hurt.
Then he hears people say: 'He's so ingenuous!'
But the warrior knows that it is worth it. For every defeat, he has two victories
in his favour.
All believers know this.


The warrior of light has learned that it is best to follow the light.
He has behaved treacherously, he has lied, he has strayed from the path, he has
courted darkness. And everything was fine, as if nothing had happened.
Then an abyss suddenly opens up; you can take a thousand steps in safety, but
just one step too many can put an end to everything. Then the warrior stops before he
destroys himself.
When he makes that decision, he hears four comments: 'You always do the
wrong thing. You're too old to change. You're no good. You don't deserve it.'
He looks up at the sky. And a voice says: 'My dear, everyone makes mistakes.
You're forgiven, but I cannot force that forgiveness on you. It's your choice.'
The true warrior of light accepts that forgiveness.


The warrior of light is always trying to improve.
Every blow of his sword carries with it centuries of wisdom and meditation.
Every blow needs to have the strength and skill of all the warriors of the past who,
even today, continue to bless the struggle. Each movement during combat honours the
movements that the previous generations tried to transmit through the Tradition.
The warrior develops the beauty of his blows.


A warrior of light is reliable.
He makes a few mistakes, he sometimes thinks he is more important than he
really is, but he does not lie.
When people gather round the fire, he talks to his friends, male and female. He
knows that his words are stored in the memory of the Universe, like a testimony of
what he thinks.
And the warrior asks himself: 'Why do I talk so much, when often I am
incapable of carrying out everything I say?'
His heart replies: 'When you defend your ideas in public, you then have to
make an effort to live accordingly.'
It is because he believes that he is what he says he is that the warrior ends up
becoming precisely that.


The warrior of light is terrified when it comes to making important decisions.
'This is too much for you,' says a friend. 'Go on, be brave,' says another. And
so his doubts grow.
After some days of anxiety, he withdraws to the corner of his tent where he
usually sits to meditate and pray. He sees himself in the future. He sees the people
who will benefit or be harmed by his attitude. He does not want to cause pointless
suffering, but nor does he want to abandon the path.
The warrior allows the decision to reveal itself.
If he has to say 'yes', he will say it bravely. If he has to say 'no', he will say it
without a trace of cowardice.


The warrior of light is now waking from his dream.
He thinks: 'I do not know how to deal with this light that is making me grow.'
The light, however, does not disappear.
The warrior thinks: 'Changes must be made that I do not feel like making.'
The light remains, because 'feel' is a word full of traps.
Then the eyes and heart of the warrior begin to grow accustomed to the light.
It no longer frightens him and he finally accepts his own Legend, even if this means
running risks.
The warrior has been asleep for a long time. It is only natural that he should
wake up very gradually.


The warrior of light has learned that God uses solitude to teach us how to live
with other people.
He uses rage to show us the infinite value of peace. He uses boredom to
underline the importance of adventure and spontaneity.
God uses silence to teach us to use words responsibly. He uses tiredness so
that we can understand the value of waking up. He uses illness to underline the
blessing of good health.
God uses fire to teach us about water. He uses earth so that we can understand
the value of air. He uses death to show us the importance of life.

Thoughts on "Left in the Dark"

Continuing from my last post I felt like putting down some thoughts that have arisen since, I have rarely allowed myself to ramble on my blog, but there is a great passion awake, and it tends to rear its head on this theme in particular.

Even though only half-way through this great book I recognize its importance on many levels, and have to give it praise for something that I have seen missing in science- connecting the dots and having an overview of the whole picture. 

Years ago, as a student of genetics I was taught a view that this paragraph correctly illustrates: 

"DNA is usually thought to be the only conveyance for the passage of information to the next generation and hence to variation,  adaptation and evolution. The mechanism that reads the DNA is assumed to be stable. This is not usually included in the picture as far as inherited change and variation is concerned. The standard evolutionary model is based on the changes that come from glitches in the DNA code. These changes are taken to be accidental (mutation) and usually deleterious, but when they are of benefit, the benefits incurred will create a fitter animal with  enhanced survivability (selection). " 


Wright does a great deal with simply demonstrating that nothing in our body is isolated (nothing indeed at all is isolated but we are so deeply stuck with our paradigm of separation and looking at single separate mechanisms, that now all the different fractions of science are having a measurably hard time to re-unite and move forward which can be done only through recognizing inter-dependence with other fields, this seems such a long way off still). He shows how in fact what we eat can effect our endocrine system, which influences how the DNA is read, which in turn can be an evolutionary mechanism also. This is truly revolutionary.

"The standard model is totally DNA based: inherited traits are passed on via DNA codes but, if a different reading system can be inherited and passed on, there is, in effect, a transmission of a different DNA expression. The DNA and the reading system do not work in isolation. They go together. The reading system is built in the uterus. A change in this reading system will result in different structures, including the structures that read the DNA. If these are stable, the way the DNA is read will be changed permanently. This is a new and radical theory that has huge implications. It is a mechanism for inheritance that does not depend on changes in DNA. It is an inherited reading change.
This theory is not incompatible with the standard DNA model for inheritance. It is merely a variation that, we propose, had a marked affect on the evolution of the ape/hominid lineage. The key point is that the variation is coming from the neural-endocrine system and it is this variation which is inherited. However this does not preclude DNA variation working with, alongside, in response to, or independently of this mechanism."

"Steroid hormones in particular are an integral part of the mechanism that reads the DNA, the blueprint that ultimately dictates the structure  and chemistry of what is built and ultimately
how it works."

There are also brave and visionary people who have been doing studies on how emotions are affecting the coding of our DNA, postulating that the heart has even a bigger electro-magnetic field than the brain and feelings of love can actually change us right down to the cellular level. In short we are truly living in the time when the forgotten wisdoms are coming back to science.

This was always my main issue with some scientific fields, namely the ones looking after the well-being of humanity- they do not look at the whole picture, so how can we trust them to tell us a valid truth about how to look after ourselves? Apart from that- they are also corrupt so the notion of caring is even impossible.
Nutritionists live in a seeming la-la-land which takes into account no scientific evidence at all apparently and as shown in this book- no evolutionary evidence in particular. It is dominated rather by economics.
Doctors live in another la-la-land where they think that what we eat is only remotely connected to our well-being, it boggles the mind that nutritional studies are not really included in studying to be a doctor. But then if it was then would it really benefit as it is another impoverished separatist non-wisdom? And also there is no profit in knowing about food being the only true medicine, it would make the whole enterprise fall.
Psychology is a discipline of blind leading the blind. As Wright points out- a poorly functioning left-brain dominance, riddled with fear, separation, deceit, illusion- is a systematic disease that is not isolated to a percentage of human populace but present in all, including the psychologists we go to for healing. And once again- the pharmaceutical companies are really in charge.

We know almost nothing about human consciousness though it is long shown through physics in particular that consciousness plays a vital part in physical phenomena. 

We know almost nothing. We pin our puny microscopes on particular moments of life happening and say- this is what happens. This is perfectly fine as an evolutionary process of science, but it is certainly not fine if the paradigms and common dogmas from this way of looking at things- dictate what we put into our bodies, how to heal and in general meddle with our bodies- which of course are vehicles and seats of our souls.  

Evidence stares us in our face- we are getting more unhealthy by the decade. 

"Left in the Dark" seems like a pessimistic theory- stating that human beings as a species have been degenerating, and operate from a dominance of a deeply impoverished and hurt left-hemisphere. But it is also completely hopeful. Unless we recognize the problem, there won't be a solution. If we understand the cause and mechanism of the problem-the solutions are many. It is the denial that holds most humans back at this particular point.

As I always try to emphasize- we live in such a crazy, corrupt world where taking charge of our own well-being is really the only option. Questioning the system and self-education, looking at alternatives is really the only option. If we care about our well-being that is. If we are not dulled down in blind faith and trust and mollified by our inherent self-destructiveness. If we care to not only survive, but if we dream to actualize and reach our best possible state. 

Hence I have to always mentally applaud all those who give glimpses of a new possible paradigm and a healing of science. Such a long way off, but all the journeys start from small steps.

An investigation into the evolution of the human brain- Tony Wright

"A new theory of human evolution, proposed by Tony Wright and Graham Gynn in ‘Left in the Dark’, convincingly argues that the human brain owes part of its extraordinary development to the biochemistry of a specialist fruit diet. The hormone-related chemicals in tropical fruit initiated an internal hormone mechanism that increasingly promoted brain growth and elevated neural activity. When humans were forced from their tropical forest ‘Garden of Eden’ some two hundred thousand years ago, this link with biochemically rich fruit was lost.

The internal hormone mechanism that fuelled brain expansion stalled, and the process went into reverse. This caused a breakdown in part of the brain; some functions were lost and our sense of self changed for the worse – a golden age descended in stages to our present materialist, fear-based age of plastic and Prozac. These neurological effects are now being revealed and verified by today’s cutting edge science.

Virtually all cultures preserve myths with an almost identical theme; that from a past golden age humanity has suffered a progressive degeneration. Is this near universal tradition based on real events? The answer appears to be ‘yes’. Recent scientific evidence supports the idea that we suffer from an inherited hormonal condition that has damaged part of our brain. In an unexpected twist, it is the damaged part that is not only driven to play the major role in telling us who we are but also dominates our basic biological functions.
Such a scenario explains some extraordinary anomalies that have emerged from research into how our brains function. It provides an underlying reason for the present crises in health, from the dysfunction of the immune system to the declining age of puberty. It also makes sense of the diverse mystic and religious practices that are said to lead to enlightened states or ‘oneness with God’.

If our common experience of near constant low-level fear and anxiety is actually a consequence of a neurological disorder, there may be a fundamental solution to the problem. We all know that fear, distrust and a lack of connection lead to conflict and ultimately war. Such a solution therefore could be of crucial importance to our global future."

Read more www.leftinthedark.org.uk

Read the book "Left in the Dark" here


I accidentally stumbled on an interview with Tony Wright and was instantly fascinated. Kudos to Wright for explaining thoroughly and extremely well his theories, this with almost inhuman patience with the interviewer, watch and you will see what I mean. The interviewer and the interviewed wonderfully demonstrating the difference between the left brain and right brain action respectively, to my mind at least. I was convinced, and I cannot wait to read the book.

Keeping Quiet                      

                         ~                        

                          Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.


This one time upon the earth,
let's not speak any language,
let's stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.


It would be a delicious moment,
without hurry, without locomotives,
all of us would be together
in a sudden uneasiness.


The fishermen in the cold sea
would do no harm to the whales
and the peasant gathering salt
would look at his torn hands.


Those who prepare green wars,
wars of gas, wars of fire,
victories without survivors,
would put on clean clothing
and would walk alongside their brothers
in the shade, without doing a thing.


What I want shouldn't be confused
with final inactivity:
life alone is what matters,
I want nothing to do with death.


If we weren't unanimous
about keeping our lives so much in motion,


if we could do nothing for once,
perhaps a great silence would
interrupt this sadness,
this never understanding ourselves
and threatening ourselves with death,
perhaps the earth is teaching us
when everything seems to be dead
and then everything is alive.


Now I will count to twelve
and you keep quiet and I'll go.

-from Full Woman, Fleshly Apple, Hot Moon
Translated by Stephen Mitchell


Read this poem in Spanish

Causal reactions and all-encompassing Buddha nature

This one is going to be a controversial blog to others as much as it will be to myself.

I was re-listening to a wonderful Alan Watts lecture tonight "Zen Bones" which ends with a Zen poem.

He who would understand the meaning of Buddha nature

must watch for the seasons 

and for causal relations. 

Every voice is the voice of Buddha, 

every form is the Buddha form.

I felt it, I knew it. So I wanted to test it.

I chose the most awful experience I could get my hands on. To make it my meditation tonight.

This is a video which has made me suffer above all sights, animals are my true weakness, my love for them goes past even the love for humans. So this is truly intolerable cruelty for me. It has made me cry, shout and scream in anger, awful extreme rage. 

It was different- to watch it. Absolutely different. What I ended up with was this realization.

My reaction is also a season, a causal reaction, also a Buddha form, just as the cruelty on display, just as the suffering on display. Whatever the reaction is.

The sadistic tendencies of those who suffer and cause suffering
vs my warrior spirit which has suffered and gone into a violent outburst against the sadists
vs a non-dual state of being which can watch cruelty at peace with an understanding it is all light Are they different in nature?

It is a controversial state for myself, that I find myself in. Me- who at one time had deep crises when I discovered the nature of the world and cruelty. Who had panic attacks at work when I had to sell foie gras as a special, and I couldn't do it- I said to my boss to fire me- but I wouldn't do it! Many panic attacks, many identity crises, not from being me, but from being a human being cause of all the animal cruelty I found out bit by bit... I didn't want to be part of a species who was capable of the worst. 

Yet slowly it balanced from seeing the whole struggle of us humans. Acceptance emerged of being in-between darkness and light. And then slowly the understanding came that light cannot exist without darkness. That there are really neither alone. Both of divine essence.

And now- I am here. Is it less unjust, less horrendous? No. And yes. The peace that I have in me now- I am still at a loss- what is this peace- I am with the poem, the essence of it, I know that the peace comes from that same source. But this meditation was unsettling- the peace itself disturbing- its a strange dichotomy. My mind tells me that, it tells me I shouldn't be at peace, remembering the past feelings. Of course my ego is part of this also- what- take away the main identity of who "I" am...? The main thing "I" am against? Whats the point when there is nothing to be against...?

I am guessing I am at a stepping stone from one state to another, polar opposite states. Unsettling to be at peace with something that was the deepest unsettlement! 

It is a meditation I chose which will still be difficult for some time.

But its good to grab the Bull by the Horns I feel.

Homeless and at home

I live in a big apartment block, but it is the roof of it that is my real home. I go to the roof to connect to the sky, when I have crossed the safety bar and am dangling my feet above the whole distance, but at the same time under the vista of the whole city and the sky- I am truly at home. On the border of it all I feel safe. This has always been my place.

So tonight I was making my way up there again. To my surprise the door to the roof was blocked by two homeless huddling in their sleeping bags. For a second I was unsure. Then I saw one of them open their eyes and look at me. At once my uncertainty disappeared, I smiled to him, stepped over both of them and pushed open the door.

Of course after taking my comfort seat between all things, with the lyrics blasting into my ears from my earphones "This city is for strangers as the sky is for the stars", I felt a tap on my shoulder, across the bar, and I shuddered, I had never been disturbed here. It was the homeless. He had awoken cause I think he was worried about me. Later he called me- "a crazy girl on the roof", I think he thought I had gone up there to the ledge with an intention. 

So I explained. He wasn't too sure. Till the end he kept asking me, "Are you in trouble, did you have a fight with your boyfriend?" etc etc. My answer that I was there cause I wanted to feel the joy just didn't compute till the end. He was a simple and straight-forward guy from Mongolia gone on tough times and I know I must have looked mad for him. He asked me why I wasn't scared when I saw two men sleeping in the hallway, wasn't I afraid they were dangerous. I answered, "I know that you are here to find comfort and warmth and a refuge, and I am here too to enjoy my refuge, so we are equal. I believe that people are good." 

He stayed beside me talking with me, telling me about the reasons he was homeless. I was at home, complete, and he was like an old friend, we talked about everything. No masks from the beginning, a soul meeting a soul- me at my most private place and him at his, as he would tell none of his friends of his troubles, his culture forbade that.
I gave him my last cigarette, and then brought him some soup and some wine. We kept talking. 

It was a wonderful night. The place where I go to be alone to enjoy the sky, was the sky as I knew it, even at a time I shared it with a homeless even if I haven't really shared it before, it was a hundred per cent natural, we were both sky people and I reveled in the truth of this. I have brought a few of my friends there yet it has been a social gathering and the sky has got side-tracked. Of course we all belong there. Insecurity and impermanence is the home of everyone, its just the openness to that that is rare to find. 

I finally convinced him to cross the bars and sit with me on the ledge. He held on to the bars and breathed hard, it was the same for me-my first time. I asked him how he felt. Didn't he feel free. But then I felt embarrassed- he was free. Totally and utterly free, without a home or a job, and perhaps I am mad that I admired his bravery to sneak into a random apartment block, perhaps I am mad that I admired his absolute freedom. He was more brave by far to keep his smile in his situation, I was merely home. 

We had a long talk about Mongolia, Ghengis Khan, Estonia, religion, politics, friends, you name it. 

I will never forget the humanity of this night. It is rare. And its a pity that the freedom between souls comes from these extreme moments so easily and harder in everyday connections.

He didn't understand till the end why I was there, in the cold, between sky and earth, for him- in danger. The only glimpse for him was when I said I wanted to feel the sky- he said his only idol Ghengis Khan was also a shaman, and if I believed in that-really? No matter the alien situation for both of us though- it was a night to understand what it is to be a human being.

What a beautiful night under the sky.

Love me, love me

Say you do


Let me fly away

With you


We're creatures of the wind

Wild is the wind


Give me more than one grasp

Satisfy this hungryness

We're creatures of the wind

Wild is the wind


You touch me

I hear the sound of mandolines

You kiss me

With your kiss my life begins


Like a leaf clings to a tree

Baby please cling to me

We're creatures of the wind

Wild is the wind


You touch me

I hear the sound of mandolins

And you kiss me

With your kiss my life begins


Love me, love me

Say you do


Let me fly away

With you