I didn’t celebrate in my usual way, but was a part of ceremony all the same… Feeling immeasurably blessed to have this opportunity and have already started battling my ego (one night in and approx. 0 hrs actual training lol)!
The house is quiet, only the sound of grandma’s oxygen compressor and the restless shifts of sleeping puppies punctuate the stillness. The overcast sky has overcome midsummer heat and a cool breeze wafts through the open front door, spun about the living room by the ceiling fans, tickling my skin at every bare side. Grandma is feeling well, things are calm, and the energy meanders about on the low end, right between “sleepy siesta” and “reading in a hammock.”
This is my harvest.
I’m not exactly opposed to chaos, in fact, at one time in my life a therapist told me “you can be addicted to anything, even chaos,” in attempt to wake me up to my patterns of poor choices back then. I didn’t get it then, but it’s become obvious as time and life’s lessons have wore on.
I have all the markers of an intelligent person: I cuss, do drugs, stay up late and seek other novel experiences. I travel internationally solo, my #1 bucket list item is “swim with sharks,” and I’ve taken myself far past my own expectations and boundaries again and again. Yet, as of late, all I have wanted is a bit of peace.
Actually, I’ve been craving it, deeply. All my efforts to “full speed ahead” in July were thwarted by reality and I spectacularly failed every last expectation and standard I had idealized for myself at the start of the month. So here I am, beginning a new month and even a new phase of the year’s wheel, hesitant to make another attempt at idealistic grandeur for the upcoming month. Though my intuition and awareness are making it hard not to get excited anyway…
Closing a Chapter
Lammas is a Pagan Sabbat, or holiday, and serves for celebrating harvest as the long days of summer begin to dwindle. There are 4 yearly Sabbats including Lammas (Aug. 1st), Samhain (Oct. 31st), Imbolc (Feb. 1st) and Beltane (May 1st). Each Sabbat falls at a midpoint between the Equinoxes and Solstices, and carries its own seasonal/archetypal energy.
The focus on harvest is an interesting one, because it allows for taking inventory. In this way, Lammas invites us to review what we’ve planted and how we’ve sown those seeds since Beltane. Personally, since May, I feel I’ve been caught in a whirlwind.
So much has happened in just 3 short months and they feel markedly halved. From May through the first half of June I was on dieta, preparing and then participating in a spiritual retreat and largely feeling centered, focused and excited. Mid June through the end of July however, were marked by stress, uncertainty and groundlessness. I am grateful for it all.
Despite my tireless devotion, nothing I did before my retreat was “enough” for me. I felt like I was simultaneously the donkey and the carrot, trying to manipulate my development and attention to the “perfect” degrees in order to activate to upmost potentiality of my spiritual experiences. I struggled to remain in my beingness, fighting my addiction to doership at every angle.
Since my retreat, coming home to grandma being ill, I have been unable to maintain strict control over my experiences, feelings or thoughts, and have largely been caught up in the moments as they’ve happened. I’ve been wading through turbulent waters, barely keeping my head up, let alone maintaining “good form.” Yet, I’ve also still managed to study, write, edit, contribute, encourage, connect, love, meditate, practice yoga, share myself and otherwise be authentically me in spite of it all.
The juxtaposition of these reflections is illuminating.
I’m not going to set standards for my organic spiritual disposition. I am this person who studies astrology, philosophy, yoga and practices meditation, development and awareness – regardless of whether or not I make it a “daily task.” I am a writer, editor, collaborator, contributor, consultant, healer, teacher and coach – regardless of how/when/why these things all get done. I’m not these things because of anything I do, I am these things, period.
This is my harvest: I get to be me. In the stillness and quiet, as well as in the chaos and noise. I am Mayryanna. I am a blessing. I am blessed. All the rest doesn’t matter.
So yes, I’m excited. I’m excited to accept where I’m at, appreciate myself and explore the ever-expanding heights and depths of my consciousness. I will certainly be fighting old habits – for some reason I love planning even more than doing lol – but it’s a lesson I feel fortunate to be learning.
May you all have a blessed, reflective and illuminating harvest as well!
“Huuuecckkeghhh-ughhh… HUUUECKKEGHHH!” My whole body shakes as I purge violently into my bucket. There’s nothing in my stomach anymore, the Aya has moved through my system and I’m just emitting bile now. My mouth tastes sour and bitter but I can’t drink water yet… Everytime I open my eyes I feel dizzy and ungrounded by their inability to focus as infinite geometric fractals take over my surroundings. “Thank you mama… thank you.”
With eyes closed, falling back onto my sweat-soaked mattress next to more than 30 other friends (who were just strangers days ago) on the yoga deck in the Costa Rican jungle, I begin to undergo visuals of exponentially greater intensity and depth once more. I’ve been journeying for what seems like days, but really only an hour or two had passed. I am transported beyond the boundaries of my perception, into the space of existence where the overwhelming unity of Source converges and separation completely dissolves. Pachamama revealing the intricacies of her boundless power and love in every variety of expression.
This is our second Ayahuasca ceremony on this retreat and it had been nothing like my first experience last year or my experience during this week’s first ceremony. My intention this time was “expansiveness” and oh did I recieved it fully. Laying there, feeling as though every cell in my body were vibrating, I pondered drinking a second cup of the medicine – though even the thought made me feel as if I might die.
“This,” I thought, “this I how I conquer fear…” Preparing myself to accept the challenge whilst Pachamama soothingly comforted me in the back of my mind, “you can drink if you want, but you don’t have to,” I knew, the answers to my intention laid just beyond this fear. I had to push my limit and drink again.
The second cup was gritty, filled with remnants of the holy vine. I braced myself add I returned to my mattress… But nothing happened. I felt better – actually, I felt amazing.
I would still be journeying for about 4 more hours, and it would remain full of psychedelic wonder and more purging, but I was able to regain some grace. I felt strong. I felt proud.
I would under go a series of “downloads” the rest of the night, receiving divine messages about my life, my purpose and my path. My future became clear. My past, my excuses and my fears now all obsolete.
During the night I would visit my loved ones, both alive and dead, to express my gratitude, love and even my grief. “It is an honor to mourn you,” would become a mantra as I kissed the faces of friends and family who had long gone. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” falling evermore from my tongue.
I kissed monsters and communed with the goddess in her ever-changing forms. My heart was opened to the endless expanses of possibility and I gained new appreciation for the spaces of infinity and creation that are Pachamama’s domain. I experienced true, unbridled and uncontained power, drinking deep of endless glories.
It was so hard.
It was so ugly.
It was so divine.
It was so beautiful.
I wish for a world where everyone understands that discomfort is the price of legendary. And fear is just growth coming to get you.
As fate would have it, I’m spending Beltane (today) through the Taurus new moon (Saturday) on the road, attending a festival, to read my poetry and some other spoken word, accompanied by one of my oldest and most creative friends. Seems just right!
Didn’t want to compromise my commitment to this blog or stress about posting from the road like I did on my last trip, so I’ve been preparing posts ahead of time… Meaning I’ve also been pondering Beltane… Wondering my misty mountains, filling my soul with the sights, sounds and sensations of spring… And of course, writing poetry:
feels cold and dry
skin pulls tight
eyes and nose water
the tips of
fingers and toes
feels soft and light
snowing so little
like crystal fairies
the corners of
lips and cheeks
feels strangely quiet
fog muffled sounds
failing to carry far
breath tucked in
holding to hear
feels so intoxicating
crisp, delicious spring
penetrating my soul
heart beating in
the rhythms of
and noticing the small blessings
Finding this assertion of life was such a charming and delightful surprise to me, I hope you enjoy too:
May your day be filled with the little glories and the big joys as well! Blessed be my beloveds!
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