So… February and March has seen some financial blows. I am skint. This is a term I feel is subjective as many people have different meanings for skint. Some say they are skint when they have only 1000 quid in the bank. Others say they are skint when they have gone into their 500 quid overdraft by a fiver. A few say they are skint when they reach into the ten thousand dollar (for all the Americans out there) savings and pull some cash out for a flight to Moscow. It is different for me. I follow the definitions of the word skint found on sites such as Urban Dictionary.
I have nothing. I am broke, poor, out of money. Literally.
Why do I let myself get into financial situations like this? Honestly, I really do not have a scooby doo (that means ‘clue’ Adam). I am good with money when I have enough. I paid off over 4000quid in debts in around 10 months last year while travelling and working in Chiang Mai. I had my butterfly to rely on and friends if I got myself into a sticky situation, but this year, this is something I am trying to improve. Actually improving.
It is a few days before payday and i’m living generally on a pack of 10B cookies for breakfast and Noddle Soup for dinner. I am walking to work as I cannot relieve my bike from its thirst. I literally have nothing. Until now.
As I was walking down Huay Kaew Road in Chiang Mai eating my packet of 10B Creamos (cheap version of Oreos) I was delivered an unexpected gift. As I walk along the unsteady pavement kickin my toes every few metres on the broken tiles, my eyes randomly look to the right and there laying in the foot of the hedge is my saviour for the month. What do I see?
In amongst a carrier bag and a bottle of sprite there is one, spanky thousand Baht note with the King of Thailand smiling at me. Without a thought I bend down and pick it up. This kinda shit does not happen to me. What was going on?
The universe provided.
Why did it provide? Again I have no idea, it just did. I’m a good guy. I can sometimes offend certain people, but it is always with absolute unintentionality. I smile, i’m generous with my time and I genuinely care about others. Bottom line is, I was skint and the universe heard my passive calling.
I needed. It delivered.
Respect the universe and keep your ears and eyes peeled. It does deliver when we least expect it.
If you read my last post (Ayahuasca – The beginning), I may have left you in as much suspense and anticipation as I had been feeling the moment I left the shaman on that intense first meeting. Weirdly, back in January after the first meeting I was sick. Really sick. I rarely get sick, but the next day my body ached, my head ballooned and Adam road tripped to Mae Sai on his own. I was ill. All the way up to the day of the ceremony. I nearly cancelled. I should have cancelled. I didn’t cancel. I was ill, tired, and aching, but this was an opportunity I didn’t want to miss. I wanted to drink Ayahuasca.
I brought everything that had I had made strong associations with over the past few years. In particularly, my spoon. This was the scariest thing about the ceremony. I knew I had to surrender and let go, let my spoon go, but, my heart was holding on tight.
I was eager to ensure the butterflies flew in formation.
Me and Adam paid a visit to the market to buy fruits and flowers as offerings to the spirits (fluffy I know, but I was willing to try anything). Lilies I could not find, so I settled with a cheap bunch of bright yellow flowers and an assortment of fruit, including the smallest oranges EVER. We met at a guest house. It was weird. Situationally, it had a feeling of a tour or trek where tourists gathered to only be bundled in the back of a truck for an adventure out in the jungle of some kind. However, socially, people were inward. This was a going to be a solitary journey. This scared me.
We arrived at this amazing space. Crystals, statues, and paintings scattered the room. The medicine was being prepared, and the shrine built with the offerings.
The butterflies were swarming.
The sun fell, the night darkened. The shaman prepared us. He gave us all small crystals. These were our swords and I was a warrior of light. He described types of demons that we may encounter, some evil, some good, some that look evil, but are in fact good. At his point I was somewhat confused. However, one of the main messages was to surrender and accept. This is how the demons cannot harm you. They can eat away at your physical being, but your soul they cannot touch. Or at least this is how I understood it.
We mediated, we concentrated, we Aum’d. This was my first group Aum’in experience and weirdly, it had some energy I did not expect. I was feeling more prepared. I was feeling less anxious.
The butterflies were understanding.
Me and Adam were split. I was alone, but comfortable as I had gained a certain trust in the shaman whom I was near. I was one of the first to drink. The shaman performed a ritual everytime he passed the medicine. It was some kind of energy transference from himself to the glass containing the medicine. Once everyone had drunk, it was time to drink the second drink. It wasn’t the best tasting of drinks, however, we did have the chance to munch on some sweet tasty fruits after. As we finished drinking the medicine, the shaman visited each one of us one by one. Some for a few seconds, some for a few minutes. This was when I heard a few words that stayed with me for the rest of the ceremony.
“Courage, patience and trust”.
I sat. I laid. I meditated. The medicine started to take effect. A feeling that I can only compare to having tripped on mushrooms or LSD previously where reality gradually goes from normal to a little weird, but good. I was anxious. The medicine had hit the butterflies and they were swirling and swarming around every part of my gut.. While my gut was filled with this chaos, patterns and images involuntarily popped up on my minds movie screen. My mind was active, my body was alive. Patterns, fractals, colours, snakes serpents and eyes domoinated the screen. Pleasure, pain, guilt and lust infected my body.
I was uncomfortable. My eyes opened. The space was weird.
Time to try again. I would meditate, lay down, close my eyes and very quickly my eyes would open once more. I took comfort in the surreal world around me. The distorted reality was my security. The medicine took me on a journey into my heart, mind and soul, this was somewhere I wanted to escape. I procrastinated. I played with my crystal, I drunk water, I went to the toilet, I washed my hands, I went to the toilet… again.
I was ready.
Once more, I laid down. A decision come over me and I decided I wanted to meet death. I held my wrists out as if they were to be slit and I was to slowly fall into death. A slow and gradual pain began at my wrists as if they were being cut and I was voluntarily offering myself to be sacrificed. I wanted to experience death. I wanted to visit another realm beyond our reality. I wanted to know the unknown. I had something to say.
Something wasn’t right.
Anxiety started to infect my body once more as I thought about burning my spoon. This wasn’t how I was meant to feel. I wanted to be ready to let go. I wanted to burn my spoon and release it back into the universe with no bounds or cages. I wanted both to be free.
I had courage, but no trust and no patience.
I resisted and I did not surrender. Disappointment rose with the dawn and I felt I let myself down. I had high hopes and expectations to come out of the other side feeling better, feeling healed, clean and stronger. But all I had was tiredness and disappointed as the ceremony came to an end.
…. reflections to follow.